#it's a fucking stupid bullshit premise anyway

[disgruntledseagull]

the "zombie update", ironically, is when a modern game dies in my eyes

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

[whetstonefires]

So the thing with the Matrix for me, right, was I could never get past the assertion that the motivation for keeping humans alive was as a power source.

That pinged as so so stupid, and was presented so late and half-heartedly, that I could not understand it as a sincere part of the premise. Like. We're told very dramatically and pretty early that the world was mostly destroyed by humans 'scourging the skies' to block off all solar radiation in the effort to shut down the solar powered robots, evidently forgetting that all life on Earth is solar-powered also. Too comedically dumb to be really tragic imo.

So to pivot from the premise 'there is no life on earth, other than human beings, because the sun is gone' to 'the humans were kept alive as batteries' is an impossibility for me. Our ludicrous mammalian bodies, incredibly inefficient engines entirely reliant on continuous indirect consumption of solar energy to even survive, were somehow yielding a net output? Not only that, but one superior to nuclear or geothermal???? Bullshit.

I mean. Bull. Shit. I cannot. We just underlined in the backstory how all life on earth relies on the sun! Because life is expensive just to maintain and requires constant external energy input! We get milk from cows by keeping them alive, but that's because they turn the grass energy into something easier for us to process; no such mechanism is proposed for humans consuming dead humans and somehow producing a form of energy more useful to the Machines than just waiting for the corpses to dry out and then burning them to run a goddamn boiler.

This makes the direct opposite of sense.

It had to be in-universe propaganda, right? Another layer of the deception? It couldn't be the real reason. It was too implausible. Which meant I was still waiting to find out why the machines were really bothering with humanity and the Matrix.

I would have accepted without quibble the revelation that humans have special psychic energy that the machines were harvesting; that's dumb but in a comfortable, comprehensible, and above all internally consistent sci-fi kind of way.

I would have been quite open to the idea that the machines relied on human consciousness for their own development to true sapience, and the Matrix was primarily an AI nursery with the enmeshed human brains providing complex inputs, that one's actually cool.

There are a lot of explanations out there aside from the dumb official one, or the Occam's Razor one where they were just keeping some humans alive out of sentimentality! I'm really not that picky!

So anyway I never managed to emotionally engage with the Matrix films well because I had this unresolved 'motives of primary antagonist??? cause of fundamental scenario??????' thing making most of the actual plot twist and drama feel kind of boring.

My sister maintains that this is something wrong with me, that I'm refusing to suspend my disbelief and engage correctly with the text, and this constitutes a hostile, bad-faith and therefore illegitimate reading.

(She hasn't actually said this last part and I'd respect her position more if she did, but this seems to be the broad thrust of her emotional position when she starts shouting.)

I maintain that if a central plank of your sci-fi premise relies on going 'fuck the basic principles of thermodynamics and biology this is a vibes-based system' you should be very careful to avoid invoking the relationship between basic thermodynamics and biology in your core worldbuilding.

[zan0tix]

I yap so much about the comic and the importance i find in its contents but i hope when i write dirk or jake or rlly any of them it doesnt come off as me dumbing them down😭

I know the core internal mechanisms at which they all operate from otherwise i wouldnt understand why they even do what they do and why they speak how they do since that is so crucial to analysis of their behaviour and Why they were written.

But i mostly write silly scenarios so the deeper messier parts dont get to show much😭 working on deeper things tho rest assured i am locking in🫡🫡🫡

I try to match the tones of how i believe the characters would act continuing off the ending of homestuck. With dirk and jake specifically i try to write them to where they still both kinda dont say everything they need to but they dont have the weight of narrative destiny on their shoulders anymore so they can admit they like spending time together and have actually confessed like normal people and got out those apologies they kept yammering on about in the last half of act 6

I try to reinvoke the ridiculous nature of the one time we really see the real dirk and jake talk (which was actually a dreambubble memory. jake is so gay.) but i try to make it feel how that did, they really do love spending time together and just being weird and cringe and bantering about stupid shit ❤️(the most we see dirk type laugh in the comic)

(Always Highly recommend reading this log if you havent in a while. Its just such good writing theyre so funny) https://www.homestuck.com/story/4844

I feel like the Best Bros part of dirkjake kinda gets lost alot of the time considering THEY NEVER SPEAK DIRECTLY (which is insane that hussie could craft this universe bending gender norm shattering yaoi with no fucking interactions wtf anyway) but there is alot you can gleam from jakes interactions with hal and this one log to tell us how they usually speak

Dirk always veers into making homoerotic comments because.. i dunno he might have feelings for jake or something whos to say. and when jake presses him dirk immediately diverts. I think from being around dave and everything daves realised thats bullshit about masculine standards and heroism that let him have a healthier relationship to masculinity, hearing abt that would loosen dirk up about Actually being affectionate to jake

But hes still somehow trying to no homo his way out of things that are incredibly homo just in a subtler way, not immediately going “Haha, what? I never said that. Anyway.” (Its both out of his fear for what his true identity means about him as a man but also because he doesnt think he deserves to get such affections cough thinks himself an evil)

And jake was always going with the flow. If his friends socially decreed something as okay to talk about then the fucking damn burst open and he couldnt keep it in anymore but they had to Very Clearly Clarify with him about it. So i think dirk going down a more positive road would lead jake there too seeing that if its okay for dirk to be less restrictive with his feelings jake can be too.

The Epilogues has a highly specific premise and was being manned by caliborn and calliope 2.0 cranked to the max in the deranged fanfic behaviour so. Of course it would not be a healthy environment for characters to grow💀 anyone who takes it as full confirmation about how theyd act or become as adults and ignores the fact of its premise Being “Homestuck but Sick and Twisted; The Fanfiction” is kind of stupid its like saying homosuck was in character. Ofc everybodys lives goes to shit because the two running the show dont know how the hell to be good puppeteers 😭

Said it on twitter but you can tell how much a dirk hates himself based on his relationship to a jake. Because tho ult dirk wouldnt ever admit it jake is dirks anchor of self worth just as dirk is jakes. When they show compassion and kindness to one another its a step closer to self acceptance because Jake is quite frankly a living embodiment of EVERYTHING that is “wrong” (queer, cringe, sincere, feminine) about Dirk to himself in his saviour complex surrounding manhood. (See Everything caliborn says about jake) jakes always waiting for dirk. If dirk were to step down and admit his own humanity itd mean hed have to accept he is capable of growing and isnt inherently evil, and jake would be ready to embrace that about himself too

Anyway all that to say. Even in my simple silly writing i at least do try to retain dirk and jakes strange emotional dodging olympics but also its just on a smaller level since theyve inching their way to fully internalising that Its Okay to be Cringe and Gay Together❤️ because the World isnt Ending anymore. Its in the little things they dont say because haha im the one who makes them say words.

Dirk and jake hate themselves because theyre not men in the right way but their love is because of them not being men in the right way so.. nerm.. Whos flying the plane?

[animereviewsbykyranskye]

My current top 15 Anime and why

Because why the fuck not. I'm doing top 15 so that I have some variety behind it. Otherwise I would just be gushing non stop XD

Apparently numbers go big now - AND THEY GO SMALLER IF YOU TRY TO TYPE IN THE SAME LINE AS THEM???

comparison:

15

15 -

DA HECK????

(Edit: I was going to colour all the numbers because I wanted a rainbow. WHY THE FUCK FOR THEY CHANGE TO SMALL WHEN YOU COLOUR THEM??????)

Guess the titles of the anime get a small heading. Anyways. Onto the actual list!

15

Technoroid OVERMIND

Ayo. Starting out with a really random one. So if anyone were to look at my Anilist then they might be a bit confused. I decided I'd keep movies out of here as well as anything I haven't specifically finished. Also takt op. Destiny needs a re evaluation.

Anyways. This premise is so sick and I feel like they managed it really well. The characters were all really fun and the music was fantastic which is honestly the most important thing about Idol shows. I really like idol shows but often struggle with the stupid drama in them that just leads to seasons upon seasons that didn't need to happen or wouldn't actually happen.

In this they're just androids. The fantasy twist works so well for the genre and I honestly don't know why it isn't done more often. This way they can bullshit the drama and it actually makes sense.

Honestly my favourite character was Kite. He was great and his voice always gave me shivers. Especially his piece in the closing. Damn.

I don't want to go into full reviews with this, rather just gushing about things I like and stuff. I really don't think this got the recognition it deserves - probably because of it's deviation from the norm - but it would be cool to get some sort of sequel.

(Edit: There's a manga releasing apparently. Imma check that out.)

14

UniteUp!

Continuing on with the trend of idol animes apparently. UniteUp! was so good. As I mentioned in my Reviews while I watch of the show, it felt so grounded and real that other idol shows just don't seem to capture. These were all real people with real problems dealing with real life.

I also like how we had such a large cast of characters but it never really felt overwhelming as they focused on group dynamics and specific individuals rather than trying to cram every single person into their own arcs.

Once again the music was fantastic and by god was this show pretty gay. Honestly I don't know what the sentiments of others are, but the Anela duo definitely weren't straight and neither were Akira and Daiki. That bath scene says it all.

Anyways. If you want a fun time with a really solid idol anime, please check it out. I saw earlier that we're getting a season two soon. I am so looking forward to it.

13

Trigun Stampede

Damn! I don't even know what to really say about this one. The visuals are absolutely stunning - there is no doubt about that. The score and the characters are excellent. And how dare they leave us on that cliff hanger.

I have absolutely no history with this story and still need to watch and read the originally but I am really looking forward to seeing how the story adapts between the three.

You can ask my partner. I've already said we're watching everything trigun related as soon as we are done with our current show.

I'm really looking forward to season two. And especially seeing how this all pans out. Apparently there will be tears according to the fandom. Concern.

12

Re-main

Damn this show came out of nowhere for me. I watched it quite awhile ago and have been meaning to rewatch it again.

The premise is definitely a sports anime but honestly so different. All because of one thing. The fact that he is an amnesiac is such a fascinating concept to work with - especially with how he was before (trying not to spoil - can't remember when this comes up in the anime)

And then the ending?? Damn. They seriously set up that cliff hanger and I really hope this show gets a sequel.

I really can't say too much about it without giving away some spoilers but damn does it change up the formula and do it so fucking well.

11

Given

Given is great. Such a pure but heartbreaking portrayal of love on one side with such conflicting but also nurturing views on the other. Having the different realtionships throughout this is really well done how they all bounce off of each other. Especially when they entertwine it with the music.

As it is said. That is how they communicate - through the music.

I'm busy catching up with the manga and really hope the anime continues with it.

Also the fucking is just fucking gorgeous. It has no write to hit you that hard.

Also - something else that shouldn't be allowed to hit you that hard. Damn Mafuyu has had a difficult past. We love how he learns to heal and grow with Uenoyama at his side.

Anyways, moving on.

10

Bakuten!!

Okay. Who said a sports anime could be this pretty.

I love the art style and the music throughout all of this. I love the portayal and the evolution of these character - seriously all their arcs are great. The interactions of the team is so tangible and real.

I watch a lot of sports anime and I often struggle with some of the drama used within the sports - it feels like the only thing that ever fuels the story is the matches. Whereas in Bakuten - the character seriously fuel the story. You can understand their motivations much more than just - I want to play this sport and be the best!

I also feel like they really captured everything really well in the movie. The whole concept of wanting to sore is great and really well executed.

I also love the interactions they have with the other team. It's not just a once off competition or practice match that they face each other. We actually get tangible characters for the whole team and see how much they two teams are similar to one another. It's a very healthy rivalry that isn't normally this expanded on in sports anime.

9

Sasaki and Miyano

Yesssssss. These two are just absolutely amazing. Their whole story arc and relationship is just tooth rottingly sweet. They bounce off of each other so well.

And I love the fact of how slow the actual story is. They meet at the start of Miyanos first year (from what I know - I still need to read the novels) and sasaki's second and they only end up confessing just before graduation happens. It really plays out well and is so healthy.

There is no problematic elements like in so many BL stories which is such a breath of fresh air. And the fact that sasaki is very specific about making sure to maintain boundaries to ensure that miyano is comfortable is also excellent.

On a slightly different note - I still need to see the Hirano and Kagiura movie. Been dying to watch it. I've been keeping up to date with both manga and both of these stories are amazing. I love the dichotomy of the two stories and how they are coming to their own realisations of their feelings in honestly very different ways.

I also recently watched the dub of the anime due to some videos on tiktok. Fucking hell it is absolutely hilarious. Kellen Goff as Sasaki has no reason for being that good. Seriously. Damn.

8

Link Click

On a completely different note. Damn this one makes you questions your own morals and reality as you know it.

I really don't want to get into this one much as I do believe watching it blind is the best way to go.

The art style is fantastic and that opening hits like a truck it is so good. The characters just click (pun not intended) and you just understand their motivations and don't know which side to side with most of the time. It brings about such high moral dilemmas that will seriously mess with your brain sometimes and there is one episode that will likely make you cry.

Anyways. Season 2 has just started airing and I am so ready for it.

7

Buddy Daddies

Why did a show about two queer platonic dudes who adopt a child while beings assassins hit so damn hard.

The show jumps between episodes with backstory and episodes with them just being good dads and it is balanced so well. This anime won't end up getting a sequel most likely with how it ended but damn I wouldn't say no to one.

Rei is my favourite character and I relate to him far too much. His interactions with the world are so fascinating and his whole arc with Miri is honestly some of the best media I've seen.

I absolutely loved watching this show weekly and it always brightened up my day when I realised a new episode would be up.

If you would like further thoughts on this one then check the Reviews while I watch on it for more chaos.

6

No Game No Life

So. This was the first ever anime that I ever watched. It was a random recomendation from a friend. Look at where we are today.

This show is honestly just so fun. The characters are silly and the whole plot is just absolute chaos. I really enjoy the games aspect and how it was all incorporated into the world.

I can't even really say much about it. It is just a guilty pleasure of mine and will always hold a special place in my heart.

Also. Please can it just get a second season already.

5

Assassination Classroom

So. Unlike everything else on the list - this one I only finished really recently. My partner and I were watching it together. And to put it out there straight away. I cried. That ending was far too emotional.

I really enjoyed the humour throughout the whole thing as well as the constant underlying dread of the whole situation.

They also really played out Koro-senseis backstory really well. The teasing to it was excellent. I must say though that one of the twists seriously came out of left field. Like damn.

I've just recently bought the boxset and am reading through the manga. Once again. It's absolutely amazing.

Also the openings of them all jumping are absolutely fucking hilarious and you can't tell me otherwise.

If you want to know what officially sold me on the show was just in the first episode. (Note we watched in dub)

Don't ask me why but I found this to be the most hilarious thing ever. The absurdity and the line delivery was magnificent. I annoy my partner by quoting it atleast once a day.

4

Life Lessons with Uramichi Oniisan

Speaking of comedies. This show has no right to be this good. The absudist dead pan comedy in the middle of whats meant to be a TV show is such a random premise but just works so well.

Due to the nature of the show, the characters are extremely relateable. I especially love Kumatani and Kikaku.

If your on the same side of anime tiktok that I am then you have definitely seen/heard snippets of the dub.

I think this was the first anime that I originally watched in sub and then tried it in dub and actually enjoyed it. (I often find that whatever I originally watched it in is the only one I can watch it in - it's very difficult for me to change it)

The voice acting on both sides just works perfectly for the show. And that final episode and how they did it was the best thing ever.

Please just give it a try.

3

Angel Beats

Okay. Time for a hard hitter. This comedy like assassintaion classroom is fucking excellent but will make you cry, like damn.

In complete and utter contrast to No game no life, this was the second anime I had ever watched. I had found a video that gave some suggestions and thought I would give this one a try. When I say it destoryed me, I mean it literally. I constantly think about the end of this and I absolutely love revisiting it.

The twist and turns along the way are fascinating and I love how each one alters the characters and the narrative. Each of the characters feel unique - even the lesser developed side characters - with fascinating and complex backstories.

The whole thing just makes you question your own place in life.

2

Moriarty the Patriot

Another one I just randomly tried because I saw a video on tiktok. The first episode immediately pulled me in. I thought it was just going to be some simple detective story (At the time I didn't know much about Sherlock Holmes and who Moriaty was so I didn't have any of that to guide me into this story.) But nope.

I keep saying this but in this one I really mean it. The characters are built so well. The dichotomy between William and Sherlock - as the fandom would probably agree - is just amazing. How they bounce off of each other - i don't even know how to really descirbe it.

Honestly just go watch it.

And if you enjoyed the anime - please go check out the manga too. If the anime was done well - then the manga is done to lamost perfection.

This show was what got me into reading and then eventually buying manga. I now have every single one that is out.

1

Yuri!!! on ICE

Did I make the title gay? Yes.

Okayyyyy. This is just going to be me going on about how much I love this show. Bare with me.

So I was in an anime watching slump just before I picked up this show. I had been seeing some videos popping up talking about it and decided to give it a try (this was in 2020)

I immediately fell in love with this show. Literally everything about it. I ended up rewatching it three times over the course of a week. It got to a point where I was so upset that there wasn't more content for it that I just cried for half a day. (Ask my partner - it was chaos)

This show is the reason I now read fanfiction - all because I found a way to technically have more content for it.

This show holds such an important place in my heart that I sincerely cannot express it properly.

If you've never watched it - go give it a try. It would mean a lot - and hopefully one day we might get a season two.

----

Thanks for reading, if you managed to get to this point. I find it interesting how my explanations managed to slowly get shorter throughout the list as I just started becoming more emotional than factual.

I hope you enjoyed it and maybe grabbed a recommendation or two. If you'd like to know more or hear me ramble on more about anything in particular then please let me know.

[tyrantisterror]

While I usually find myself railing about how old works of fiction I love have their characters get mischaracterized to the point of being unrecognizable in modern adaptations, every Halloween I'm reminded of my own hypocrisy. Because man, the exact thing has happened to the characters of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," but I'm 100% for it every time.

Washington Irving hated Ichabod Crane with a passion that drips from every word of his short story, and clearly loved Brom Bones. And every adaptation of his story has inverted that dynamic, to the point where Ichabod has transformed from a know-nothing charlatan coward to a genuinely intelligent and heroic figure, while Brom Bones has gone from a good ol' slice of idealized American Masculinity to a rock-stupid overly macho brute or even an outright villain. The only thing they take from the story is the basic premise and, like, the tension of the ghost scenes, which is great, those are the only things worth taking anyway, fucking Washington Irving and his anti-intellectual bullshit.

[alicepao13]

A lot of my thoughts about the second episode can be summed up in one phrase:

Why the hell wasn't that the first episode???

But I'll try to go a bit more in depth than that.

I'm sure we've had episodes with more action but this was a dynamic episode. Yeah, Charlie and Rex spent a lot of time being just the two of them again, yadda yadda. I can't keep talking about that after every single episode. In fact, since it's kinda the premise of the show, they could very well turn and call me stupid for assuming it would be centered on the rest of the characters as well. But I should also judge what was in the episode, not only what was missing.

Charlie character backstory in season 6? Okay, I'll take it. Daddy issues isn't something revolutionary (then again, you can't do anything remotely revolutionary in a cop show, much less a cop show that's comes from a previous show) but it's something. It's a character moment. Hopefully, it wasn't just that and we'll see Charlie's father.

The action scenes were nicely shot and very dynamically and made you feel like you were in the middle of the action. Yeah, they used a few too many dutch angles at times (they're not supposed to be used so liberally) but I can forgive that.

I don't have much of an issue with the plot as plot. The script was funny at times, some scenes were heartwarming, it was all pro-military bullshit of course, but it's a cop show and Charlie is a navy brat. I've seen 1,500 episodes of NCIS, I can cope. Even when the military-ish music started playing when Charlie was talking to the female perp (forgot her name and also don't have a better name for the genre of music). Props for them hinting that most vets fall through the cracks after they serve while they need help (this episode also aired 2-3 days after World Mental Health Day, and they did discuss a bit, or well, slightly brushed, the fact that soldiers come back after combat, often traumatized, to a world vastly different than how the military works, and they have trouble adjusting to the real world).

Sarah needing time off to buff up a resume that she makes clear she doesn't need? Do not want. Unless it's setting up some future storyline but it better not be her breakup with Charlie. I'll be honest, I'm on the fence about the lack of Charah. The way this show is being written, it could very well be nothing, so I'm not getting that worked up about it. But as a shipper I'd obviously have liked to have seen scenes with them by now. Especially considering how S5 started. I consider seasons 4 and 5 pretty much equal in quality, for different reasons (season 5 being a constant flat tone in terms of angst and stakes only to show "signs of life" in the end got some negative points for me), but season 6 is not starting off great for a variety of reasons which I will not list here, and I also reserve the right to watch a few more episodes to understand what the heck the new showrunner is doing (Names! I want names! I want to know who I'll be cursing this season. Why don't all shows just put a showrunner credit for fuck's sake?)

Things like getting a bunch of motorbikes, only to make a half assed scene, which wasn't bad but didn't offer much either, in which you also can't make your protagonist do the chase and subsequent stunts (unless you hate him), I don't understand. And let's not forget your other protagonist is a dog. And said dog in another scene is indicating that Charlie needs to be getting back on his own bike? Why would Rex care about that? Is he going to ride with Charlie?

Anyway, while this episode wasn't spectacular, it was on par with a lot of typical crime show episodes. Which is where I put the quality of the Hudson and Rex show overall. Yes, I do like the show and I do pay more attention to it than any other crime show I currently watch (never mind the strikes, I'm talking the last two years at least), but that doesn't mean I consider it revolutionary television. An actual 7/10 episode would be considered a good day for this show, in my opinion. If anyone feels differently, I'd love to talk about it with people who have watched at least a few more crime shows. Because if you don't have something else to compare it to, then you can't compare it to anything.

[hazardworld]

Part 2 of Monster Town. Part 1

------

30 minutes later, Steve was snacking on another fish, watching Dustin pace as he angrily ranted in front of Robin and Eddie, who had tagged along purely because Robin needed a ride and Dustin wasn’t letting Steve "escape," even after Steve reassured him he wouldn’t try anything.

He would’ve tried something.

He wasn’t their problem to deal with.

"So you’re telling me not only has Steve kept his monster status from me, his bff for life, but he’s also risked his life because of his shitty parents telling him to restrict being himself?" Robin gave him a pointed glare as Dustin confirmed, whereas Eddie just raised an eyebrow, purple eyes laced with befuddlement.

"Guys, look, it’s not your problem! My parents are shitty, sure, but this isn’t an issue any of you should deal with, especially you, Eddie."

"Bullshit, Harrington." Steve’s brow furrowed as Eddie rubbed the side of his face, exasperated, with a small smile. "You and your stupid fucking martyr complex, wasn’t it you who told me I was part of the Party now, anyway—"

"And when one party member requires assistance, it is up to the other members of the party to provide that assistance!" Eddie raised his hand towards Dustin as if to say, 'exactly, you shithead,'

"See? You listened to my problems, now I’ll help you with yours, deal?" Steve nodded slowly, hugging his arms to his chest and looking away from the rest of the group. That didn’t last long though, as he was being yanked up by Dustin, and soon, pushed by Robin and Eddie, to where he quickly realized the pool was.

"Guys I literally just got dry—"

"Shut it Steve, I’m seeing your fish form, even if I have to possess you to get in there myself!" Steve let out a puff of air. It wasn’t like he was resisting, honestly, so before he got close enough where Dustin would fling him in, he spun himself to the side, making his friends all crash into the pool themselves.

Whoops.

So sad.

"STEVE!" Dustin’s voice was the first one he heard, angry, sure, but not in danger (poodles can swim, right?). He sighed, smiling lightly at his younger brother and best friends’ pissed faces. Robin shot him the finger, and he returned it right back.

"Fuc—St’ve!" And then there was Eddie, sputtering and splashing, and immediately, Steve went into panic mode, diving in and keeping the man up above the surface as he caught his breath.

"Eds, you ok?" Eddie nodded, coughing out water.

"Yeah, shit, I uh—" Eddie froze, eyes widened, staring at the pool floor. Steve raised an eyebrow, was there a bug, a spider or something? He looked down, and immediately realized Eddie’s distress: Steve’s tail had wrapped itself snugly around Eddie’s ankles, keeping Eddie afloat, but also 100% tied down.

Also, not to mention it was Steve’s tail, which was weird, because usually he had to contemplate the change before he made it, but this time he’d dove in and gone full form without even thinking.

And also, it was Steve’s tail.

On Eddie’s skin.

Fuck.

He started to loosen it, drifting away, but Eddie quickly put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"No, no, it’s keeping me upright, keep it there, just…" Eddie bit his lip and looked away, Steve pretending not to notice the red blooming his cheeks, "you’re real pretty like this, Harrington. No wonder the girls find you so irresistible." Eddie finished off with his signature cocky smirk.

"Found, Munson. Stopped using sirenspeak after Hellkins round 1," Steve watched as not only Eddie, but Dustin and Robin’s eyes all widened.

"Holy shit, that’s why all your romance tips were such bull! Because you’ve never actually tried to swoon someone!" Steve sputtered and crossed his arms indignantly.

"Of—Of course I’ve tried to swoon someone, Henderson! I’ll have you know, I only used sirenspeak to get Nancy to notice me, not make her fall in love with me. That I did by hand. Besides, in a romantic context, it’s really only good for one-time things, the whole premise being to kill the person after, so…" He gave a weak smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, you’re too sweet to kill people, Steve," Robin smirked, and Steve stuck his tongue out and gave her a little splash. She phased it out while putting up two middle fingers, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. It’s also against the law, Rob, in case you were wondering." Robin laughed lightly as she flew herself up out of the pool, grabbing Steve’s towel from earlier. Dustin quickly followed up the pool steps and shook himself off, which left Eddie, who was still bonded to Steve by his ankles.

"So how is this gonna work, Stevie?" Steve smirked.

"I’ve got an idea," He laid his upper body back onto the surface of the water, and gently moved Eddie up and back until he hit the edge of the pool. "Let me know when the lip is on your kneecaps." Steve moved Eddie up and down until he was given an indication, and Eddie took the obvious hint to sit, and Steve finally unwrapped himself. He then moved himself next to Eddie, and crossed his arms over the edge, plopping his head on top.

"So, you never learned how to swim, eh Munson?" Eddie rolled his eyes, blushing in embarrassment. He crossed his own arms and kicked the water in front of him.

"Yeah, yeah. We didn’t have a local pool close enough for me to walk to in Indy, and by the time I got here it was kinda too old for someone to be using a floaty for reasons other than relaxing." Steve nodded.

"Fair, fair. I feel like it’s pretty useless If I try, but if you wanted, one of the other party members could come teach you here? I promise all the insults you get will be in good company." Eddie chuckled.

"So sure I’m that bad already, Stevie?" Steve felt his cheeks heat up the the nickname.

"No, but you’ve met Erica. That girl will take every excuse to tell you what you’re doing wrong." Eddie laughed. Steve decided he loved Eddie’s laugh.

"Damn straight, man." Eddie pooled some magic into a glowing purple ball, and tossed it in his hand. "That girl is a fucking powerhouse," The two sat in silence for a minute, and Steve turned his attention on the house, to where Dustin and Robin had both disappeared.

"You know," Eddie spoke up, and Steve immediately turned to him. His magic ball rested in his hand now, not being tossed. "I wasn’t lying when I said you looked real pretty like this, Harrington." He looked Steve up and down, and Steve gulped.

"Really?"

Eddie frowned, tossing the ball once before it disappeared into his hand, the magic returning to its source.

"Aren’t you supposed to be? Catching the attention of humans to devour and what not?"  Steve chuckled and shook his head.

"No, dude. I had to explain this all to Dustin before you got here, but like, sirens aren’t entirely meant to look pretty, we’re meant to kill. Mermaids are the pretty ones." Eddie hummed, his frown forming into a smile showing off his own fangs, glinting in the sun.

"Well you look plenty pretty to me, Stevie." Eddie leaned over and ruffled his hair, making Steve’s face grow hot. Before he could respond, however, the sliding door opened up to a sauntering Dustin and Robin.

"We have a way to try and get you to a natural form, Steve!" Dustin’s voice boomed across the pool deck. "Monsters who shift forms like you and me usually shift out of fear!" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Dustin, you and I both know that’s not tr—" Dustin grinned.

"Just get on out of the pool, Steve!" Steve groaned, shifting back to his bipedal form as he climbed up and out next to Eddie, who stood as Steve’s more aquatic features faded away. Steve noted his second set of fangs stayed, as if they had already gotten used to themselves being there in the two times he’d moved them there that day.

Suddenly, Robin disappeared, and within minutes, Steve was tossed and tugged around blindly. Ahh, so Robin was trying to spook him into shifting? Two could play at that game.

He felt the magic rush into his throat as he started to sing to her. He was only singing for friendship, not romance, since romance wouldn’t’ve worked on her. As the notes kept coming out, the forces gripping his arms started to loosen and still as Robin slowly took her corporeal form again, enamored with his voice.

He swayed along to the song a bit as he willed Robin to dance with him, and they did for a few seconds before he stopped and booped her forehead with a finger. He felt the magic drain back down to wherever a siren’s magic resided, and Robin groaned and rubbed her head. Steve looked around to find Dustin and Eddie gaping.

"Did you—Did you just—" Steve laughed lightly.

"Yeah, Dust, I just used sirenspeak. But in my defense, as the person who taught you to form shift, fear is never the best way to shift! I know what I’m doing, Henderson." Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Says the person who didn’t even know they were binding their form, Steve!" Steve passed Dustin the finger, and he stuck out his tongue.

"I feel…like I got hit by a bus. Did I survive?" Robin grunted out, pressing two fingers into the gap between her eyebrows.

"You did, Robin," Robin groaned disappointedly as Steve turned his attention to Eddie. "Eddie, I have some of your pain potion things in my bathroom. Think you could help Robin?" Eddie nodded once, and ushered Robin back inside with calm whispers.

"So what are you gonna do, Steve? Figure it out yourself? Because I don’t think that’s been working out for as of late." Dustin panned his hand from Steve’s head to his feet, frowning.

"It’ll work just fine now that I know what’s wrong!" Steve snapped back.

"You’ve been binding for so long you might not know how to get it out on your own!"

"I think I can do things without a idiot 15-year-old nerd trying to baby me every step of the way!"

Oooh, too far. Even though he tried not to show it, Dustin’s ears flattened against his skull and his tail tucked tight between his legs. Steve sighed.

"Sorry, pup. That went too far." Dustin perked back up, though cautious.

"No, no you’re right. Sometimes I forget that not everyone needs my help with everything. That was my bad, Steve."

"Still shouldn’t’ve snapped at you. It was bitchy and unkind." Dustin smirked.

"You can make up for it with a hug." Steve snorted and opened his arms. Obviously, Dustin could get a hug from him anytime. Not only was companionship and touch something instinctually needed for werewolves, but Dustin was his little brother. Obviously, Steve was gonna let Dustin hug him whenever he wanted.

"Did you two finally make up?" Steve heard after a few minutes, and the two released. Standing in the sliding glass doorway was Eddie, with Robin behind him, hands on her hips. "I don’t think either of us would make for good mediators." Steve rolled his eyes and ruffled Dustin’s hair, making the kid laugh and bat his hand away.

"No, neither of you would," Steve grinned at his friends, "Eddie, you’d just avoid the issue and move on, and Robin, you’d get too anxious about it to even get involved,"

Eddie shrugged, and Robin sighed. Steve was very emotionally intelligent; he couldn’t tell if it came with the territory of being a siren or if it was just him, but if there was anything he was good at, it was reading people’s emotions.

And like, swimming or something.

"I can’t help it, I’m skittish towards conflict!" Eddie grinned, raising his hands in surrender.

"I’d like to prove you wrong but the only rebuttal I can think of is about Hellkins 4 and I’d really rather not think about that right now," Dustin commented, and the atmosphere of the room changed instantly. "Can we change the subject?"

"Let’s talk about Steve!" Robin supplied after a minute, "We don’t know much about sirens besides the whole," she made rapid circles with her hand, "shifting and sirenspeak thing. What else can you do?"

Part 3!

[theclampdown]

dump of scattered lad:iw thoughts because i have. a lot to say about the game. i have not proofread this at all. these r just my opinions please don't me mad at me lol

[IT WAS NOT GOOD]

im able to put up with a lot of stupid bullshit in media i like so its pretty impressive that this game pushed me to my limit in what im willing to let slide lmao

i do wanna say that i actually really did enjoy playing it though, i think it smoothed out a lot of what i found annoying about 7 (mostly the leveling system and skill jumps and stuff) and added a lot of new content. i did like the new map and i thought they did a pretty good job making it feel different than the other areas of the game. the battles felt very fun and were challenging but didnt ever really feel like a slog for me which is usually my biggest gripe with games that involve leveling like this but i had a good time! loved his fucking scooter. to be quite honest.

enjoyed the drink links and party chats and party bingo and stuff they were very silly but it was enjoyable! did really like the party members overall but ill talk on that in a sec

also ill say it ran much better on my shitty laptop than most of the recent games have which is definitely a bonus. my graphics for rgg7 were so fucking awful but i didnt have to change a single default setting for this one so idk i guess the only plusses for this one is that the gameplay rocked and they optimized their shit a lot better. like it genuinely was enjoyable to play

unfortunately the story was just dumb. i cant even say it sucked shit it just felt stupid.

the initial premise wasnt even bad tbh. ichiban and co get fucked over due to ~society~ or whatever and perceptions of ex-cons and such, coinciding with ichiban seeking out his mother since her identity was left pretty open ended in the last game. like not bad at all imo. idk how they fumbled it that bad. Actually i do know how. they just overshot it too much. they could have just kept it to something related to that like with the seiryu clan and ebina/hikawa whatever. that could have been interesting! unfortunately the tie in with whatever palekana was doing just turned the story in a completely other direction in a way that just didnt make sense? i just found that whole part of the plot shallow and difficult to suspend my disbelief about. and this is the same series that had the whole baseball betting and idol concert as a serious plot point in the 5th game so maybe my standards are too high but idk that actually felt meaningful even if it was stupid and silly. this just didnt make sense and felt too overblown. i think in general my problem with the series as of late is that its conflicts reach Too High and are Too Grand and concern world governments and massive schemes and shit in a way that takes away from anything actually interesting thematically.

in terms of character i actually did quite like tomizawa and chitose and i think they were good additions and balanced well with existing characters. at the same time though i feel like the game kind of forced their friendships with ichiban too early and it made it feel kind of flat. i also feel they lost the plot with tomizawa a tad as to Why he was even sticking with ichiban at a certain point (ie what stakes he had in the conflict after he got what he wanted out of dwight). but i did like him. i thought the rest of the party members from the last game all factored in pretty well otherwise and i VERY much enjoyed having seonhee as a party member this time she rocked and i think they made the right choice including her. And also her being bisexual?

sorry quick seonhee break. anyway. my beef with characterization otherwise was like 80% with kiryu. Personally i believe his ass shouldnt have been in any of the games after the 5th game at least because im a hater. if they were gonna kill him off to retire they shuold have let him retire in the 6th game and not come back. Okay fine they had to give him his stupid cameo in 7 but that was supposed to be him 'passing the torch' to ichiban and then he could go fuck off again. THERE WAS NO REASON FOR HIM TO BE A CENTRAL PLAYABLE PROTAGONIST IN ANOTHER GAME. LIKE EVER. GAIDEN ASIDE. THEYRE DRAGGING THIS MANS CORPSE AROUND THEY'RE WEEKEND AT BERNIES'ING HIM. on the one hand i was nostalgia baited by them intentionally making parallels to rgg1 and also the whole memoirs thing unfortunately because i see 1 mention of haruka and lose my mind. but if they were gonna make intentional parallels wrt lani and haruka then they should have put their whole pussies into it and leaned into it and explored it bc as it was it just felt shallow. the cancer thing was okay ig they did explore like why he was refusing treatment so much and him seemingly accepting his death while everyone around him was trying to drag him out of it but idk. it was just okay to me. but just with kiryu being there in general it was just so annoying because i specifically just want him to fucking retire. i dont care about him. every game for the past 4 games has made it out to be kiryus last and they keep bringing him back and its just tiring. i dont careeeee. will say takaya kuroda did another phenomenal job voicing him though. and the black shirt black slacks and belt was doing somehting for me. Who said that.

on the topic of lani and also akane i wish they would have explored that more since akane is half the premise as to why ichiban is stateside and they insisted on the paralel with haruka for lani. like i just felt like they got very little screentime when they were arguably pretty plot central characters. like why did they get less dialogue than like fucking yamai. i wish they would have explored akane and ichiban more specifically though that one cutscene of them actually talking was really sweet

SPEAKING OF YAMAI. in a vacuum i honestly did like him he was kind of funny and i respect him for his taste in women and his weird little ragtag syndicate. i feel like hes nishitani part 2 if nishitani was in literally any way enjoyable or likeable and not a piece of shit (wasnt there a nishitani in gaiden or something?) but i cant explain my thinking often. but the treatment of yamai and his syndicate vs wong tou and the ganzhe vs dwight and the barracudas jsut stood out to me as. particularly not good? yamai and co as the japanese group were portrayed as very sympathetic and were fully humanized and fleshed out. wong tou was characterized decently well i think and was given a point of sympathy with his son and like literally everyone betraying him. but was also killed pretty quickly and the ganzhe otherwise were portrayed as just being infallibly loyal to bryce. and the barracudas and dwight were portrayed with no nuance whatsoever and were arguably seen as the most violent of the three organizations. which tbh i think definitely has something to do with the barracudas being largely Black and brown otherwise (its noted in narration that they consisted of all nationalities and ethnicities but in practice in the game most of their models seemed to be men of color). because rgg studios has shown its ass time and time again to be generally racist and colorist and nationalist. that really stuck out to me throughout the game tbh

i dont want to speak on this as much just because i dont want to talk out of my ass but it also gave me a bad taste in my mouth that the big evil cult palekana utilized indigenous hawaiian religion and language but was also run by a white guy. also was not a fan of some of the job options such as 'fetishized depiction of a hula dancer that resulted from american tourism and imperialism' and such. was just not good.

side note i just thought the whole palekana brainwashing cult deal was stupid it was just dumb. not in a fun way. maybe thats just me being a hater but it was just STUPID and far fetched. it was like the part in rgg5 (sorry to always bring up rgg5 but actually im not sorry because it was a good game) where it revealed that there never was a nagoya family and everyone was fucking with shinada specifically. which was silly then but this was just worse. it didnt really make bryce any more formidable or hateable as a protagonist it just fell short in any of their efforts to make it believable and to raise the stakes in my humble opinion.

the daigo and saejima and majima tie in was also jsut kind of stupid. I just cannot believe they would have ended up in a fishing shack like that. Saejima definitely i would see him fucking off somewhere like that. but i just dont see how daigo or majima would end up there man it just doesnt make sense. i thought their goodbye in rgg7 was kind of dumb and if the game leaned more into the struggles of being an ex yakuza or ex con trying to reintegrate into a society that wants nothing to do with that, maybe their story could have been more interesting! unfortunately the game went another direction and their inclusion felt stupif and it just felt bastardizing of these characters that have also kind of been weekend at bernies'd for the last few games. I just cant see daigo being there. Daigo wheres your fucking mom. Can you call her. She misses you. Shave that ugly beard. Just leave the damn country at that point all of you.

this is not a problem unique to this game but i hate how allergic they are to making these characters look their age. i appreciated that they made kiryus hair gray but his haircut was stupid though tbh he looked quite nice when he put it back up at the end and looked probably closer to his actual age. saejima and daigo were pretty okay. WHY IS MAJIMA ALWAYS SO DAMN SMOOTH i know hes been doing like coke since the 80s he literally should not be looking like that. actually did love the part where they were support party members in the finale sequence though it was just really fun. but they shuoldnt have been there at all. All of you go retire.

in terms of the finale honestly ebina/hikawa was kind of right tbh. and i think the game wanted me to agree with him in a sense? he was right to hate arakawa these games will never make me like these deadbeat father figures (except genda he ruled) but what i didnt agree with was kiryus whole... deal at the end. i dont know. i dont think he was ever wrong for fucking off out of the tojo clan and i definitely dont thing he was wrong for not taking on the responsibility of chairman and trying to 'change things' or something like its not literally a massive criminal organization. wasnt a big point of this game that people should be allowed to leave the criminal life and reintegrate in society? so why should the game be blaming kiryu for fucking off from being chairman in the first game to do exactly that. we COULD be blaming him for never actually cutting ties with the tojo clan fully and always having one foot on each side and not ever doing much but trying to maintain the status quo through that rather than change anything. which honestly would make much more sense than blaming him for not trying to do anything as chairman. but i digress. i guess. wild that this was like one of 4 or 5 times that this man has ever cried on screen and its him cradling another man on the floor and then passing out.

the fact that they didnt have the haruka reunion on screen is criminal i was so fucking MAD. they HATE ME SPECIFICALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!

and the ending with eiji made no sense to me in a lot of ways. that was the major part of the plot that they didnt wrap up very well besides just having his ass go to jail -what for? collaborating with the yakuza? that wasnt clear to me. i get it that they were trying to show how manipulating or releasing information can sway public opinion very easily. but how did he grow his hair and beard that quick how much damn time had passed??? is that a nitpick? maybe. i did just have to go on the wiki for a plot summary about him if that shows how it was kind of unclear how he ended up in that position. but also tbf i am usually having to go on wikis after i finish rgg games because im stupid and these games are annoyingly complicated. #1 media understanderrrr

with eiji otherwise he was an okay twist villain but the wheelchair thing was just stupid.

why bring back sawashiro anyway i truly didnt see a point to it. i dont think it needed to have been him at all in that role it could have been any other new game character. Did like how everybody took every opportunity they could to dunk on him though

in general the theme wrt atonement and doing over. on the one hand i always believe you get a second chance and i think the 7th game already did a good job showing it with ichi and co. but i always am annoyed that their insistence on atonement must be done through the legal system because im a communist but also in-universe its stupid because of how often theyve shown that the legal system is innefficient and corrupt and i know theyre never gonna challenge the status quo like that bc theyre a generally reactionary series overall but like. its annoying. im over it. im not. anyways back to the theme of atonement i dont think its really bad at all but the rest of the game didnt make me feel anything enough for it to mean something.

liked that the theme of friendship was once again so prominent though and that the cast was dragging kiryu out of being a lone wolf kicking and screaming. did make me smile admittedly. the whole thing with saeko. honestly i was willing to just let it happen after a certain point ichiban is allowed to be happy i guess . the ending was just. i dont know. it would have been silly on its own but after the trainwreck of the rest of the game i was just sitting there like. ._. they hate on my man ichiban for his communication styles and his comprehension of directions and subtleties i guess. though they were right to criticize his stupid ass proposal lmao

sorry i forgot about this point earlier but the whole seiryu clan -> bleach japan thing was also fucking stupid and i found it very diffiuclt to suspend my disbelief for that ie i did not. it was just out of left field and lame and didnt really fit in well with the message of atonement I DONT KNOW like i dont care about believability in a lot of ways their machine gunning the millenium tower again theyre always blowing shit up and doing silly action movie stuff i dont care about that. their plot point choices just tend to be stupid.

side note. the kashiwagi and kiryu initial conversation was genuinely so fucking funny. their more genuine conversation made me tear up actually. sniffle. theyre brothers.

i think im running out of steam here i think i hit all my major points that i didnt like in the game. tldr it was very forced and many of its plotpoints werent believable, and it lacked direction and a strong message in the end, and it bastardized a lot of recurring characters and generally was very flat emotionally. was fun to actually play but it was just stupid.

they could never make me hate you ichiban.

screenies dump

whatever. everyone play rgg5

shinada palate cleanser

[andysandfordcomedy]

5 Rules You Don’t Have to Follow, but will likely make you better at stand up comedy

***Ahoy-hoy! Mi llamo Andy & je suis comedian. Sometimes I will blog a lil comedy thingy like this and some people, likely comedians, tell me they find it helpful. That’s great, but a mere coincidence as I blog these blogs for me. As a reminder of my own principles/opinions/hard earned wisdom by way of experience (I’m old). I’m just putting this little caveat here to let the readers know that you may disagree with me, or think I’m super duper double bubble bug ass wrong…but idgaf, and I don’t wanna hear what you have to say about me bein so wrong. Also, you’re wrong, not me. I’m right about this stuff and little else. That said, here are some “rules” no one has to follow because there are no rules really. You can be as bad at comedy as you want.***

Rule 1: ask yourself, “am I *really* grinding?” Did you answer “yes?” Well, knock it off.

Who are you? This isn’t 8 Mile. No shadowboxing! No grinding! Nnno! a grind is a grind. It sucks. I do comedy all the time because it’s what I want to be doing. This getting a boner over how many sets you got in this week won’t make you a better comedian. It’ll make you think other people must think you’re working hard…does that do something for you? Well, it’s stupid and not anything to work towards. I guess the rule here is never forget that comedy is fun. No one asked you to do this. You don’t ever have to do comedy against your will. If it’s grueling, quit. For real, if what keeps you going is career accomplishments, or how cool you think you’ll look to Jimmy and Janey Applesauce: quit now. The Applesauces are worried about their own Applesauce bullshit. Also, one sure fire way to not do well is to not have fun. So have fun. It’s fun.

2.) Keep it simple. A common mistake many comics make is to try and weave some complicated tapestry that ventures way out the margins and “all comes together” at the end. I put quotes around “all comes together” because it doesn’t. And if it did, there’s no benefit to that. No audience will appreciate how aimlessly yonder bound your bit got in the middle. People, en mass, are kinda dumb (sorry people). It is true though that when people become part of a crowd, they are less discerning in their listening and more so become part of a single organism: the crowd. Do one joke, then the next joke, then the next joke. Keep doing this and don’t complicate it. It is simple (not easy). The more clearly and concisely you get your premise across, the better. Don’t add filler, identify it and cut it. Make yourself easy to listen to, and make sure everything you say is crucial to the joke. The effect of super concise jokes over time equals more than the sum of their parts. Trust me, or don’t. Moving on.

3.) Don’t be a dick to other comics. These are your peers, asshole. You don’t have to respect everybody, but treat everyone with respect. Only talk shit in a very tight circle of homies really late at night. Do not try to big dawg people and act like you having put more time into comedy buys you bully points. That’s gonna backfire real fast when the inevitably funnier comic who started way more recent than you bullies back and you can’t say a damn thing. Don’t be a dick. Don’t do it. Why ya wanna be a dick anyway? Be as cool as possible; especially to newer comics that are openly excited about things you forgot meant something to you once upon a time. Catch some of their comedy placenta goo and rub it in. That’s that pure shit. Being jaded is for fucking losers.

4. Don’t run the light. People often go way over time trying to get one decent laugh to dismount from a laughless set. Why?! Get outta there! It’s a wash. A gymnast doesn’t stumble around on the balance beam, arms flailing, racking their nuts, and then nail a dismount to save the routine. No, they blew it already, and imagining that is way funnier than your dismount joke taking you way into overtime. Also, the light is a light so that no one has to hear about it. Do not announce that you’re getting the light. It’s not clever or subversive in some way. It’s just unprofessional.

5. It is always a good time to be professional. I understand the temptation at an all comic open mic to be the kid at the back of the class giving the least fucks. I laugh at that person too and appreciate them, but I don’t ever wanna be them. It takes no balls to not give a shit. No skill. There is a different sort of satisfaction to go up 10th at a shitty open mic where everyone is throwing it and tryin to cool guy riff, and you just work out material like you give a shit and make the whole room feel dumb. That feeling is palpable, and it’s a different kind of killing. It’s what ya want, trust me. Or don’t trust me AGAIN. My point is, why do this thing just to not really be doing it in the face of it being hard? If it were easy, everyone would be great, but everyone isn’t. Very few are great, and when you see them you know. It takes time and serious effort and tinkering to get really good, but it’s the best tbh. Comedy is only more fun to me with almost 16 years under my belt. I don’t get that excited when I do well enough to find no fuck ups; I feel content. It’s better than feeling stoked because I know it’s not outside the norm. That’s that shit IMO.

Anyway, that’s all. Just bloggin around. Toodles.

-Andy

[basichextechml]

In The Dog House // May-sturbation Collab 2022

@thedreamlessnights , @dicax-asina , @heraldeez , and I may or may not (haha funny) have put together a collab affectionately titles May-Sturbation. Get it? cause it’s about masturbation and it’s in may???? We’re here everyday folks- anyways, if you enjoy the premise please go check out their fics for this collab that’ll be linked at the bottom of the post <3333

Viktor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit // 1.6K Words // Reader is AFAB, uses she/her, and is referred to as wife, Mutual masturbation, Vaginal fingering, Angry sex (sort of)

It had been a month since Viktor last touched you.

Well, six weeks and four days, but who’s counting?

---

This was all Viktor’s fault.

Everything, all the time, no matter what- but especially now. 

It was all his fault it was your hand between your legs, and not his. It was all his fault that you were whimpering to an empty room and not into the crook of his neck. It was all his fault that you were alone, because he’d rather have his fingers knuckle deep in some stupid project than you.

You had been understanding at first; how could you not be? When he looked at you with stars in his eyes, detailing all the plans he had to make the world better. So you bit your tongue and curbed your urges when he said he’d be busy for the next few weeks, coming home in the wee hours of the morning only to leave again when the sun rose. The only proof of him being home is the lingering warmth on his side of the bed and the contents of the fridge being moved. 

A few weeks, he said. Absolute bullshit, you thought, your fingers dipping between the apex of your thighs. A practiced motion that once would have been satisfactory — no, pleasurable — now hollow. Viktor truly had ruined you for anyone else, even yourself, because even as desperate as you were, the fact that you knew your hand wasn’t Viktor’s stayed at the forefront of your mind, dulling any sense of pleasure. 

You huffed, shucking off your pajama pants and hiking up your shirt to spread your legs further. This wasn’t just mindless touching, you needed this. 

It had been a month.

And that was you being generous, the calendar marked 6 weeks and 4 days since the last time Viktor had touched you in any way that wasn’t a peck on the cheek as he settled into bed or a hand on your hip when he was getting up. You needed him, and he was still in that fucking lab. 

What had once been a pool of sadness boiled into a rage, climbing up your throat as you gathered more of your wetness onto your fingers, trailing through your folds to massage at your clit. The jolts were small and absolutely maddening, keening your head back and closing your eyes in an attempt to focus on what little satisfaction you were receiving. But even as you sped up your wrist and tried to imagine someone else- it only felt okay.

“Viktor-” You sighed into the room, both in longing and dissatisfaction. Your fingers were wrong, the pressure was wrong, the technique wrong- wrong, wrong, wrong. And he wasn’t here. No one to whisper in your ear, telling you how much they loved you as they worked you over the edge. No one to hold onto and kiss as you pleased. No one at all, because the one person you wanted wasn’t there.

“Viktor- you bastard-” you hissed, fingers speeding up as your back curved inwards- the worst orgasm you ever had slowly creeping up on you at a snail's pace.“You fucking bastard-”

“Honestly, not the name I was expecting, but if that would be something you’re willing to try-” 

You were going to kill him, honest to the Gods. You’d be on trial by tomorrow, your photo in the paper, and a lawyer by your side. You’d plead on grounds of insanity, because he truly was driving you fucking insane. 

“Although I feel as if you’re getting on quite well without me?” Viktor teased, a brow raised as he entered your shared room. Underneath the tired bags and his pallid complexion from overworking himself, there was a certain hunger in his eyes that you’d only seen directed at you. There were few things you wanted to do more in that moment than give in as he stalked towards you, loosening his tie and stripping his sweater in a preliminary effort of what was to come. And as much as you wanted to welcome him with open arms (and open legs), those small flickers of rage lived on.

You’d read stories of tiny little stovetops burning down forests, their meager beginnings spiraling into a blaze that brought down even the biggest of trees. You wondered how they could do it- thriving beyond the greater forces. But you understood now, because that small ember of rage began to grow as Viktor approached.

He had to learn.

Viktor was halted in his tracks by your foot connecting to his chest, keeping a distance between you.

“No touching.”

“But I-”

“You don’t understand, do you?” You bit out, holding steady as you licked across your fingers and brought them down between your legs. It was better- felt better now that you knew he was watching, “you don’t get to leave your wife all alone for a month and expect her to be happy, do you?”

“Well, no, and I understand that-”

“I’m not finished yet.” You could see Viktor gulp, eyes darting between your legs and up to your face, then back down again. His face was flushed, and his pants were already growing a tent, the poor thing, but he messed up. He had to pay for it, “I had to take care of myself, Viktor. All alone, no one to help me, take care of me, no one for me to take care of.” You suppressed a whine and a jolt of your hips as your fingers traveled lower, subsequently drawing Viktor’s eyes with them. Brushing your entrance, you dipped in for a moment before pulling out again and holding up your fingers. The cool air chilled your wetness as you spread apart your fingers, the gossamer strands stretching before snapping. Viktor let out a shuddering sigh at the sight, hands coming up to grasp at your ankle, begging silently for you to let him come closer. 

He began to plead his case.

“I know I haven’t been home a lot lately-” doing well, “but-”

You huffed, kicking your foot forward slightly before pulling away, your soiled hand gripping into the sheets. 

“Sit.”

And he did. He knew he’d be in the dog house at this point, he might as well mitigate whatever punishment you have in store. The moment he took one step forward, you scooched one foot back, until your shoulders were flush with the pillows, and he was finally perched on the foot of the bed. Viktor kept moving though, his hands trailing up the bed, and only when they reached the inside of your knee did you stop him.

“I thought I said no touching? You’re going to sit there and think about what you’ve done, while I get off the way I've had to for the past month.”

It was a lie, you hadn’t even tried touching yourself lately, always hoping Viktor would be home soon, but never was. But Viktor didn’t have to know that, especially not as you spread your legs again, feet planted firmly on the bed and out of Viktors reach. It was nearly impossible, seeing Viktor like this. His face pink and eyes lidded, staring at you as if he’s Eve and you’re the apple, ripe and tempting — wondering how you’d taste on his tongue. With every touch, every mewl, every jolt, you could see the way Viktor strained — in multiple ways — to hold himself back, his fists clenched tightly in the sheets, lower lip between his teeth. 

You sighed airily, an act of nonchalance betrayed by the shake of your fingers and the arousal between your legs. Your tone held a vibrato that continued to defy you, “can’t you see how you’ve neglected your wife?” 

He wetted his lips slightly, pupils blown, “Yes, I-I see, I’m sorry,” He groaned, eyes still on you and your little show as his hands slowly drifted to his belt buckle. You only heard the soft clink of it being undone as you slipped two fingers inside yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the reprieve. You weren’t full, no — not by any means — but the way Viktor’s fingers curled around himself, dry and undoubtedly a bit painful, had you feeling whole.

You picked up the pace alongside him, thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself at an angle that had you keening, the soft feel of your walls and the heat being zapped through you causing a sweat on your brow, falling into your eyes. Lidded eyes looked at your husband, and he found your own, hips jerking awkwardly in time with his own hand, his hand working in time with yours, a perverted little dance you both engaged in as you sought your own highs while focusing on the others’. Inching closer, spreading wider, going faster — all things that should’ve been for you affect him more, hitching his breath and stuttering his hand, a soft schlick shlick shlick echoing through the room. 

“Please,” He begged, voice slurred, and frame wobbling, “Please can I- please?”

Small mercies.

“Go on- cum for me.”

He jerked himself through his climax, small moans falling from his throat, his hips stuttering — practically rutting — against the sheets as he stained them with his cum. At the sight, you felt a familiar rush creep up on you, washing over your toes and enveloping your senses until you rode out the wave alongside Viktor. Your head fell to the pillows, body sticky and aching, and despite it all, unsatisfied.

Viktor stripped himself, and discarded the top blanket on your bed, now soiled, in the laundry right next to his work clothes, wedging himself next to you, gently kissing across your face, “ ‘m sorry, I promise, I will never be away from you like that again.”

“You’ve got the weekend here, right?” you asked, letting the hope slip through your words.

Viktor smiled softly at your excitement, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your nose. “Yes, all weekend.”

“Good,” You said, that hope turning into confidence, “Because you’re going to start making it up to me right now.”

---

Roomates by @thedreamlessnights // Reader gets caught by Jayce

Synaptic Spark by @heraldeez // Viktor gets caught by Reader

Amplitude and Frequency by @dicax-asina // Jayce gets caught by Reader

[lonely-lost-soul]

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

[getougender]

ok i lied i’m making it now.

anyway pov you are getou suguru, twenty-eight, and the only thing that’s kept you from snapping and committing a felony at your place of work that you fucking hate is the webnovel equivalent of pulp. it sucks so bad that you are the only reader, but no matter what, it just draws you back in, over and over again. you’ve been reading it since you were fifteen and you could barely stand the protagonist at first, but he’s grown on you like mold. he’s cocky and ruthless and fun to read about, even if he’s a little cliché. you’ve been waiting for the conclusion of the novel for a long-ass time, and the day it’s scheduled to drop, it…doesn’t. instead you get a dm, and then the world fucking ends. you realize with a start that it’s familiar. you have been isekai’d, reverse-isekai’d, isekai’d sideways while rolling down the highway in a loose tire, and then you hear gojou fucking satoru, protagonist, blowing a hole in the side of the next subway car. what the fuck. is this your life forever now. before the day ends you have thrown a punch at your childhood blorbo and he has dropkicked you off the side of a building. you survive. you will beat his ass.

anyway jokes and jests aside getou’s mindset after riko’s death is something that i could see translating really interestingly into kdj’s role, especially early on. he’s depressed and angry and resentful towards the world, but riko isn’t dead (here, at least; i was serious when i said she and sys would go really well), he hasn’t been carrying the mantle of “the strongest” around, and he still has a very strong moral code throughout canon—it just. uh. changes forms, to put it extremely generously—so here, he’d probably still strive to do what he perceives to be The Right Thing, which could be comparable to kdj’s stupid fucking savior complex. i’m not sure how he would approach his knowledge of what’s going to happen according to the story vs how kdj would or how jjk’s world could be neatly integrated into orv’s premise with scenarios without making it a copy of orv, but he could absolutely pull off some of the bullshit that kdj (and, for that matter, hsy) does with a straight face. also, kdj’s ability to cobble together stories and a whole-ass body for himself reminds me of how getou’s technique grows and changes with the curses he eats, so i’m jotting that down too.

my thoughts on gojou are a lot more straightforward. ridiculously op protagonist with massively destructive abilities, etc etc, but yjh being, as i said, hellbent on bringing down the star stream reminds me a lot of gojou’s hatred of the higher ups and the flaws in jujutsu society. gojou is less likely to try and brute force his way through every obstacle (he still can; don’t get me wrong), though, and his desire to protect people/live up to his role as The Strongest/preserve youth is actually something i associate closer to kdj. that being said, i can see him regressing over and over to see the conclusion and Fix Things very easily and it’d be really interesting to see how the whole shebang with 41!sys, secretive plotter, and the other outer gods plays out, especially given the way he seems to approach grief in canon.

shouko. man. shouko. i think about that line where hsy calls joongdok bastards during the final scenario fight and how they never tell her anything a lot, and then i think about shouko saying that she was there too, and then i throw up. but shouko’s neutrality during the kfc breakup is something i think is so interesting and i think could play a part in the whole good and evil scale that orv has going on, especially when they start to mess with it, and i think it says a lot about her, too. i think that, when push comes to shove and she’s run out of options, i could see her adopting something of 1863!hsy’s role—stepping up and finding her own conclusion when the protagonist goes awol and then, later, writing the things she’s lost and clawing at them to bring them back to her. i think her grief is quiet for a long time before it boils over, and that’s when she starts destroying universes. in a similar vein, like i said, i think it’s SO neat that she’s one of the few people we know with a reverse cursed technique that can be used on other people and how she works in a morgue. she’s the beginning and the end, and she could create and destroy worldline after worldline and start and finish the story. and she’s a doctor. her job is to save people. what else should she have done, seeing one of her closest friends as a teenager in a hospital bed?

in conclusion i’m obsessed with trios and the fact that the three of them are a Set never fails to make me want to eat drywall. i have more thoughts on this but it’s also almost 3:30 and i have work in the morning

jjk orv au sashisu inspired by yoohankim. gojou, the protagonist. shouko, the writer. getou, the reader.

this story is for that one reader. tell me you fool. i want to live in a big house with everyone. getou as kim dokja with his patchwork vessel found in the dumpster in the industrial complex arc. swapping names. we’re the strongest. gojou as the unstoppable protagonist hellbent on bringing down the stars. oldest dream arc. shouko as han sooyoung, director of the false last act. the fuckingn story repair scenes. everything begins and ends with them DO YOU UNDERSTAND. DO YOU UNDERSTAND. ARE YOU PICKING UP WHAT I AM PUTTING DOWN ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I AM SHOWING YOU

[cdroloisms]

I have seen a few fanfics with this premise, so now I wanna see your hands drabble with it. AU where everything is the same except nobody knows that Dream is actually the youngest member of the SMP at 14-15 years old. Bonus points, revived Wilbur figures it out and makes some plans for how to use this knowledge to his advantage.

ooh yeah !! this au is one of my favorites - it’s a really interesting examination on the mindset of different characters in the server, plus just fun for just Angst Purposes. this is a little messy but i hope you like it! 

tw: abuse, torture mentions, broken bones, branding mentions, trauma, emotional distress, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking, mental illness, panic attack, mentioned death, dark portrayals of ,, most of the server, prison arc/pandora’s vault 

“Hey. Thought I’d find you here.”

Wilbur turns at the familiar voice at his back, smiling.

“Dream,” he pulls him in to clap him on the back, ignoring the other’s full-body flinch at his movements. “How’ve you been, man?”

“Don’t pull that bullshit on me,” Dream’s words are biting, but he smiles as he says them - a small, bitter thing that stretches over his scarred skin. His new mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing the dark bags beneath his grey-green eyes, the varied scars that fall over the bridge of his nose and under his jaw to trace down his neck below his collar. Wilbur watches him as he walks forward to stand by his side with a small spark of fascination, enhanced further when Dream’s eyes narrow at him. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing- nothing,” Wilbur laughs. “They just really did quite a number on you, huh?”

Dream stiffens, then rolls his eyes. “Well, he did have seventy four days, or so I’ve been told,” he quips back, words dry. “Not that there was any keeping track in that hellhole.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wilbur smiles tightly, amusement coloring his words as the other scowls. “I kep track of my thirteen years quite well.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” Dream huffs. “You have a cigarette?”

“I almost feel bad, y’know. You’re kind of underage, man,” Wilbur feels his smile widen when Dream glares up at him, eyes glinting dangerously from behind his eyelashes. “I don’t know if I should.”

“I was younger when you gave me one the first time,” Dream retorts immediately, not bothering to hide his annoyance, sharp-edged and acidic. “And even younger when you drafted child soldiers to fight in a war for your own glory. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Ouch, really know how to hit a man where it hurts, don’t you?” Wilbur mimes pressing a hand to his heart like he’s been shot with one hand, the other fishing through his jacket pocket for his pack. Dream rolls his eyes again, but stretches a hand out for him to press a cigarette and a lighter in his palm.

“Learned from the best,” Dream drawls, going quiet as he focuses on holding the end in the flame and then pulling the lit cigarette to his lips. He chokes, as he always does, on the first drag, sputtering slightly as the smoke seizes in his chest like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, and Wilbur watches the little flickering light at the end of the stick in his hand as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Surprised I can stand the sight of these things,” Dream says suddenly, quietly, as Wilbur pulls out one of his own to light. He looks up, meeting Wilbur’s quizzical look with a faraway one of his own. “Quackity was a fan of making me his personal ashtray.”

He reaches up towards his collar, pulling it away slightly to reveal a collection of puckered circular burn scars that dot the skin of his shoulder to trace to the edge of his collarbone. Wilbur hums in vague sympathy and acknowledgement, breathing in a drag of his cigarette slow and smooth and feeling the smoke fill his lungs.

“Guess it didn’t make the cut of torture methods bad enough to become a trigger,” he laughs, sharp, the bitter punctuation of a joke he’d realized would fall flat halfway through speaking and fidgets awkwardly with the cigarette in his hand as he looks off into the distance. “I should make a tierlist. It could be...useful.”

The words are empty - Dream wouldn’t be able to stomach torturing anyone and they both know it; Wilbur cocks his head to the side curiously, deciding to press the point anyway.

“Useful?” He takes a deliberately heavy drag, blowing the smoke out slowly from his lips and watching as Dream flinches away from it. “How so?”

Dream keeps looking stubbornly away, the only indication he’s heard at all being the way his lips press tighter together. Wilbur laughs softly.

“You mean with Big Q, don’t you?” Dream’s hand, which never seemed to stop trembling since he’d left Pandora, starts shaking harder, the smoke rising from the cigarette clutched tightly between his fingers making a jagged pattern in the air. “I won’t judge man! He tortured you for- what, 72 days?”

“74,” Dream’s shoulders rise to his ears, his head pitching forward as his arms wrap around his torso in a futile attempt to hold himself, “74 fucking days, and no one gave a single shit.”

Wilbur hums, encouraging, trying to tamp down his curiosity from making itself too obvious in his voice. Dream had been closed off for as long as Wilbur had known him, his walls only rising more after they’d pulled him out, half-starved, half-dead from the depths of the prison, newly revealed face startling young even deprived of the baby fat that would’ve otherwise lingered in its corners. For the other man to actually say something, to give more clues into his head than his usual one-word answers and bitter sarcasm - Wilbur settles in place, raising his cigarette to his lips once again. This will be interesting.

“I just-” Dream’s voice cracks, and he goes quiet, looking down at the cigarette in his hands like it’ll give him the answers he’s looking for. “I don’t understand. They’re all perfectly fine with throwing me in there and leaving me to rot, with letting Quackity come in every single day to make my life hell, but all of a sudden because I’m fifteen that changes? Because I’m a “child”? Because that makes them feel guilty?”

His grip tightens on his arm, breath seizing in his throat. “It doesn’t change a damn thing and they all know it. All of them were perfectly fine with watching me die, with sticking me in that hell, with letting Quackity- fucking-” his free hand reaches for the long tangles of his hair, the sandy locks peeking out from between his fingers, “He did- everything he could fucking think of, carved words on my goddamn back, broke every fucking bone in my body just because he could, branded his fucking NAME on me I-” he squeezes his eyes shut. “I screamed for them every single day. All seventy-fucking-four and I was still calling their names and-” Wilbur reaches towards him, watches as his head snaps away once again. “It didn’t fucking matter.”

“Dream-”

“None of it mattered. All that matters is that I’m a fucking child, that I’m fifteen fucking years old. Not that they stood by while I died twice with no means of defending myself! Not that they threw me in a fucking torture chamber! All that matters is how old I am and I fucking hate them!” He shouts, voice breaking and dissolving into a choked sob, and Wilbur watches quietly as Dream swallowed back his cries, shoulders shaking silently. “I- I hate them. All of them. At least Quackity still treats me like normal- the rest of them just look at me with this- this stupid pity, I don’t need their pity, I don’t need anything from them, not anymore-”

“Dream. Look at me.” Dream’s head snaps over, fear flashing in the backs of his eyes before it disappears as fast as it came. Wilbur ignores it, shucking off his jacket and draping it carefully over the other’s shoulders. “They’re hypocrites, I know. That’s why we’re doing this, yeah? We’re blowing it all up to kingdom come. You know how it goes.”

Dream meets his eyes, a storm warring briefly over his face before he looks down. “It was never meant to be,” he says, sounding tired, sounding resigned, and Wilbur smiles darkly at the self-same bitterness that shadows the words, recognizing the ashy taste from when they had coated his own tongue.

“Atta boy,” he says, grip firm on the other’s shoulder. “See you tomorrow. You can keep the coat for tonight; it’s getting cold.”

“Thank you,” Dream murmurs, quiet, and they both know it’s about more than just the jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

[aquafaith]

My lengthy, angry ACOSF rant review.

Spoilers, TW for mental, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.

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.

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I loved ACOTAR. I still love ACOTAR. I always will love ACOTAR. But every book afterwards made me give up more and more. ACOMAF romanticized an abusive relationship and assassinated characters for the author's convenience. ACOWAR was a bunch of boring and inconsequential death scares. ACOFAS was all-round dreadful. And each book kept shitting on and pushing away Lucien for no reason.

I'd like to preface this by saying I hated Nesta too. I hated the way she treated Feyre in ACOTAR especially, and I wasn't even too excited for this book because I wasn't that keen on Nesta as a character.

Nesta's POV and her backstory changed my perspective. It does not excuse her actions. All Nesta stans can hold these characters accountable for what they do - trauma is a reason, not an excuse. I, and many others, sided with Nesta because of the way she's treated by everyone else in this book. Also, if you're going to hate Nesta for not teaching Feyre how to read and letting her hunt at fourteen, (which I did, and are very valid things to hate), AT LEAST hold Elain accountable too.

This book. This fucking book.

Shall we start with the intervention? Feyre on her little power trip thinks that her boyfriend that hates Nesta and Nesta hates back, Nesta's ex-best friend, and her possible mate who she never talks to should be at this stupid fucking intervention??? Excuse me???

Remember in ACOMAF when Feyre wouldn't shut up about how rich Rhysand is? Feyre literally has four or five houses and is always talking about how much jewelry and lingerie she can afford because Rhysand is so rich??? Well, Nesta has a few shots. So you know what Feyre does? Humiliates Nesta at this "intervention", TEARS DOWN HER HOME, and forces her to go to the Illyrian training camp.

That was the god awful premise for this book.

Did you think Elain wasn't there because she was against the "intervention"? Nope! She was packing Nesta's belongings without permission.

Remember in ACOMAF when it's made a big fucking deal that locking up a traumatised woman is extremely damaging? Well, when Nesta decides she doesn't want to be in Illyria, Feyre locks her in the House of Wind. Nesta can't fly, so her only way of leaving is down the TEN THOUSAND STEPS, that Feyre KNOWS Nesta isn't capable of climbing.

Feyre's pregnant. In ACOFAS she randomly decided that she wanted a baby to remember Rhysand by if he dies. Which doesn't make any sense because they made that stupid fucking death pact in ACOWAR. It's just SJM superimposing her pregnancy onto her early 20's protagonist. Ignoring the fact that Feyre isn't ready for a baby and Rhysand CERTAINLY isn't, and with a war just ended and another looming and so much trauma and a DEATH PACT are all such horrible circumstances to bring a child into, Feyre is already pregnant. Remember when SJM made a big deal about Fae babies being so hard to conceive, and Feyre said in ACOFAS they wouldn't have to worry for a long time because it can take years to conceive your first Fae child? Well it's been no more than 3 or 4 months and Feyre's already pregnant. Yep.

Also the birth will kill her. Because of course it will. Rhysand KNEW this, and still agreed to try for a baby.

There's no solution. Abortions don't exist for some stupid reason, and a C section would apparently kill Feyre?

(Wasn't this book supposed to be about Nessian?)

In ACOWAR, Cassian was on the battlefield with his entrails around his knees. Someone had to literally hold his guts in for him, and he's fine, but you're telling me a C section would kill Feyre?

Don't worry, this is just setting up the AWFUL ending to this book.

ACOSF amounts to Nesta being gaslit into believing her abusers are right. Her friends and family slut shame her and shame her for her lifestyle constantly. Cassian says it took him decades to work through some of his trauma, and he tried to drink and fuck it away too, but suddenly when Nesta does so it's heinous? Nesta's barely twenty five and she's expected to cope better than these ancient immortals.

Hell, didn't SJM write ACOMAF? Nobody expected Feyre to pick herself up so quickly. The IC (excluding Rhysand) respected her boundaries for the most part and understood when it was grief, trauma, and turmoil that made her angry, sad, want to be left alone, etc. But that's all forgotten here.

Amren also compares Nesta to the people in, and says she belongs in, The Court of Nightmares. You know, the murderers, abusers and rapists? This innocent woman who had a few shots and a bit of sex is on par with them, apparently!

The sex scenes.

SJM is scared to say vagina so she says sex.

She says seed to mean semen.

Apparently the word cunt turns SJM on. I just found Cassian saying that kinda cringe because I'm Bri'ish so the word cunt really isn't a big deal.

Back to the baby killing Feyre, because this is definitely what we all wanted from this book as indicated by the change in covers and format and title... Rhysand decides not to tell Feyre. He tells her friends and family, and tells them not to tell her.

SJM loves sweeping Rhysand's abuse from the first book under the rug and claiming it's always about Feyre's choice... where is that here, MAAS? WHERE IS IT?

Anyway, when Nesta rightfully decides to tell Feyre (although it is kind of out of spite), Rhysand threatens to kill Nesta.

And I believed him. With the way he treats his """mAtE tHaT hE lOvEs sO mUcH""" and all the people he's mindlessly killed before, do you really think he wouldn't kill the person who gave Feyre an inch of autonomy?

So what does Cassian do? His lover who he cares deeply about and suspects is his mate has received a death threat from tHe mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lORd iN hIsToRy.

Cassian simply gets Nesta out of the court.

EXCUSE ME?

He doesn't breathe ONE word to Rhysand about this. This Illyrian WARRIOR who fought with his GUTS HANGING OUT didn't dare step up to the hIGh lOrD who he considers his brother and sparrs and fights with all the time?

Cassian literally does nothing.

Was it not Rhysand himself who said Mated males are dangerous? Can kill anyone who looks at their mate? Can be dangerous simply leaving the house? Rhys and Feyre both pull the Mate card to justify their bad actions on the other's behalf... and Cassian just tried to get Nesta out of the court?

Also, this High King bullshit.

I swear to fucking god, if SJM DARES to make this abusive, power-tripping, mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lOrD eVEr, husband-insert of hers hIgH kInG, I will fight her in the street.

My beloved Lucien is in this book. Only for him to be used and shat on.

I really liked it when he calmed Cassian down with just a look though. Yes please fox man.

Helion is also in this book. Nothing to do with Lucien.

Eris is also in this book. ERIS. Lucien's eldest brother. The same one who abused him for years, but according to SJM he's slightly better, because at least he didn't agree to kill Lucien's lover. He betrayed his daddy that one time, therefore Eris is good. Y'know, the same Eris who abused Mor? Left her laying on the Autumn Court border with a nail in her womb? Well SJM is going back on her own canon to redeem yet ANOTHER abusive male, while continuing to demonize Tamlin for things he only happened to do when SJM decided the villain from the first book was sexy.

Nesta and Cassian are Mates.

Remember when Mates were supposed to be a rare and sacred thing? Now SJM dishes them out like Oprah.

I don't want these characters to be mates. I want to see them slowly fall in love. But SJM is incapable of writing that so she forces them together with the mAtInG bOnD. That's literally the only basis for most of these relationships, Feysand especially.

The only relationship where the bond would make sense is between Helion and The Lady of Autumn. Who still isn't named. But I will die on the hill that they're mates, I can feel it between them.

I wanted someone to die in this book. I predicted that it would either be Helion or Tarquin, but Tarquin isn't even in this one.

And the ending.

SJM can't write a decent climax, so she kills both Feyre and Rhysand for the second time. Yep.

The baby is being born which stupidly kills Feyre, and thankfully takes Rhysand with them.

Nesta decides to save them. Bad choice. But she decides to save them! Because she's so powerful and she ATE THE CONTENTS OF THE CAULDRON and she's CONNECTED TO THE MOTHER.

Do you know what happens.

Nesta loses her powers.

NESTA.

LOSES.

HER.

POWERS.

The powers we've hardly seen, the powers that were briefly mentioned and used ONCE in ACOWAR, then we saw like two flashes of in this book? They're GONE now. GONE SO NESTA CAN SAVE HER ABUSIVE SISTER AND ABUSIVE HUSBAND WHO ABUSES THEM BOTH.

Nesta is just an Amren now. They both fought for their powers, and had to give them up to save people who didn't deserve it. Now they're anticlimactically trapped in powerless bodies.

Also, and I can't BELIEVE I didn't originally include this - do you know what else Nesta TRADED HER POWERS FOR?

Illyrian anatomy so she can carry Cassian's baby one day.

EXCUSE ME?

I am so fucking SICK TO DEATH of the narrative that every woman needs a man and children to be happy. SJM clearly loves this because she's literally only keeping Amren and Nesta alive now to be sex objects to their partners and nothing else seeing as their POWERS WERE RIPPED AWAY FROM THEM, and now NESTA TRADED THOSE POWERS TO HAVE A BABY SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WANTS? Nesta does NOT strike me as a motherly type. She's the wine aunt, she and Cassian are the couple that go on holiday a lot and and babysit their nieces and nephews, but nope. Nesta HAS to have children.

The Feysand baby is called Nyx. That's just so underwhelming, you go from these huge, multiple syllable names like Amarantha and Morrigan and Lucien to Nyx? I get it's supposed to be unique but it's not even meaningful. It's just more shit-flavoured icing on the hAHa nIgHt uWu cake. I prefer Renesmée.

Nesta is wrong somehow. She says she's sorry as she's saving them. FOR WHAT? For being a little rude to Feyre as all sisters are? And rightfully hating your sister's abuser?

Oh yeah, remember in ACOWAR when Nesta took care of a comatose, starving Elain for months? Elain is randomly okay now because she takes care of her mental health the stereotypical way of baking cakes, and not drinking and fucking, which she shames Netsa for.

Remember the slut shaming, demeaning comments that the whole iNnEr cIrClE made about Nesta? They all expect apologies from her. For some reason.

Nesta has done nothing wrong. She coped with her trauma and minded her business in her own ways, and she's expected to apologise to the people who control and emotionally abuse her.

Nothing that any of these characters did to Nesta is right. Nesta wasn't okay at the end, this wasn't Nesta's healing story. This is Nesta being shamed and degraded until she submits.

Oh I can't believe I forgot to write this in my first draft of this review, do you know how Nesta "overcomes" her grief about her Father's death and her conflicting feelings about him and his life and her guilt? When she visits his grave for the first time, she takes Nyx.

NYX.

She holds NYX up to the grave and talks about how it's his grandson.

GO AWAY YOU STUPID DEMON BABY THIS IS NOT YOUR BOOK.

Speaking of, it's revealed that Nesta was abused by her mother and grandmother in this book? Something we were all looking forward to is seeing more of the Archeron's mother seeing as Feyre was so young when she died, but... nope. She gets a few vague mentions, and this newly revealed abuse is entirely glossed over. Nesta was also actively groomed by an older man at 14. But SJM glosses over this because of course she does.

Finally, the bonus chapters.

My edition came with a bonus chapter from Feyre's POV. It was pointless and I hated it.

There's another bonus chapter from Azriel's POV. Once I'd finished this book, he was one of the few characters I still harboured a shred of respect for.

Then I read his bonus chapter.

This exists to purely objectify Elain.

Whether you ship Elain with Azriel, or Lucien, or neither, this chapter is disgusting. He thinks about her coming on his tounge, and other things simply just to please him.

He then dares to suggest that "the Cauldron picked wrong" in choosing Lucien as Elain's mate?

No Azriel, SJM picked RIGHT in not giving each Archeron sister a bAt bOy.

Rhysand does the only right thing he's ever done by telling Azriel to stay away from Elain, but then he has to ruin it by clarifying that it's only so they can manipulate and use Lucien more.

Oh, and Azriel wants to kill Lucien.

Need I remind you that Lucien respects Azriel? Lucien is another victim of the Night Court's needless, baseless torment, and Azriel is no exception.

Lucien stays well out of Elain's way because she makes it clear that she's not interested in a mate, but Azriel wants to kill him simply for being her mate.

Lucien has done nothing. And I mean literally NOTHING to warrant any of this treatment. From the bAt bOyS, from Feyre, from his family, from SJM, from the deluded part of this fandom that think he's done wrong. NOTHING.

All I liked about this book was the Lucien scenes (which is a given), ((although I hated the way everyone talks about him behind his back)), Nesta's relationship with the house, Emerie and Gwyn, the evidence that Gwynriel is endgame and subsequently Elucien, and the book love. Everything else was horrible. Oh, and Nesta hates Rhysand. I love that for her, because everyone else bows at his feet.

Oh yeah, when Nesta DARES suggest that Rhysand is an "arrogant, preening asshole" which I think is a compliment, Cassian can't take Rhys' cock out of his mouth for one second, and has to get mad at her for having an opinion. Don't even get me started on Azriel in that scene.

If each book after ACOTAR made me slowly give up, this book made me give up altogether. I cannot go on to support this victim-blaming, abuse-forgiving, misogynistic series. I've given up on SJM, and the only characters I care about anyone are Lucien, Nesta, Helion, and Tarquin. I'll continue to read this series to see if SJM redeems herself, but I'll be downloading them for free. I'm not giving this piece of shit any more of my money.

I hope we don't get the Lucien book. I don't want her to slaughter my fox in the way she slaughtered LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE.

Thanks for listening.

Edit: I put the review on Goodreads!

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part II

[ previous ] 

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 10.2k

Warnings: specific character attributes (not appearance, mentioned favorite color, movie, etc.), oral, rough sex, multiple orgasms, Erwin is kind of annoying, semi-exhibitionism, too much testosterone  A/N: And, here we go again. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part and told me about it. This one’s for y’all~

Mike immediately notices when you start to avoid him. You had already been doing it, but now it's to the point of ducking into buildings you have no business being in and walking a little too briskly when you catch sight of him somewhere on campus. You also won't get anywhere near the Pi Kappa Alpha house.

 And, he gets it. He fucked up that night. Or, he didn't fuck up, but he opened up. Too much. Showed that he was willing to be vulnerable, and you obviously had not liked that. 

 The first week of watching you duck and cover from afar isn't so bad. He's a little bummed, yeah, but he figures you'll come around, if not for him then at least for his dick. 

 But, one week turns to two, and Mike gets irritated, a little angry even. Because it's not like he did anything wrong. It's not like you haven't wanted it every time. 

 He doesn't know your class schedule exactly, but he does know when you get out of your 11 AM and have to cross the courtyard to your dorm. It's where Mike caught you last time when he was playing frisbee with Nile, and it's where he catches you now. 

 Your speed walking is no match for his normal stride, and he easily closes the distance between you two and grabs your wrist to tug you toward a more private area by the library. 

 "What the fu—what are you doing?" You spit, pulling yourself free. 

 "What are you doing?"

 "Trying to get to my fucking room to nap! Is that okay?" 

 Mike ignores it, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then asks, "Why are you avoiding me?" 

 Scoffing, you mumble an unconvincing, "I haven't been avoiding you."

 "Bullshit."

 "I've just been busy, okay? Midterms are coming up, and I'm falling behind…" He can tell you're lying by the way you can't meet his eyes. "I need to focus."

 "Am I that big of a distraction?" 

 You don't miss a beat—"Yes," and your eyes widen at your own answer like you're surprised by it. 

 Mike raises his eyebrows, taken off guard, and you try to cover your tracks. "I mean, like, I don't have time to be fucking frat boys. And, I know you have the pick of the litter, so it's not like you'll go without." 

 He has to bite his tongue, a confession right on the tip of it—I pick you—but knows that's the last thing you want to hear. It's too early for thoughts like that anyway. You're too closed off, and he's too transparent. It's not like anything serious could work out anyway, and even if it could, he shouldn't tie himself down. 

 "I mean, yeah, but—"

 You hold a hand up, take a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You seem like an okay guy, but you should find some other girl to do this with. I don't wanna be another notch on your bedpost—"

 "Then, don't be. We can just hang out."

 "Yeah, we tried that at the party and still ended up sleeping together."

 "We can make it a rule then." He's trying too hard, he knows, but he can't help it. "No fucking. I won't come onto you, and you won't come onto me."

 You snort and pick at the hem of your shirt, obviously not buying any of this. "Why do you wanna be friends so bad anyway? Is it the hard-to-get thing? Is it that I'm making it difficult?"

 "Maybe but not entirely."

 Why does he want to be your friend so badly? You haven't given him any real reason to. You can bond over nerd shit here and there, but other than that, you don't have a lot in common. 

 You just seem… Cool. Aloof. Like you don't give a shit about anyone or anything, and Mike never thought he'd find that attractive in a girl, but apparently he does. 

 "Just come over one more time. We can watch something again or—"

 "I'm not going into your room again!"

 "You don't have to," Mike says, speaking with his hands to emphasize his point. "We can stay in the living room. Totally public. Any of the guys could walk in."

 "Has that ever stopped any of you before?"

 Not a hundred percent of the time. Mike has definitely seen more of Erwin and Gelgar than he'd like, but he can tell a little white lie.

 "Yes." 

 You stare up at him, a skeptical look on your face, and then, "I'll see if I can pencil you in." 

 "Fuck yeah, I promise I'll show you a good time without, like, showing you a good time." 

 "Yeah, whatever." 

 You're unimpressed, turn to walk away, but Mike is feeling a little too triumphant, a little too bold, and catches you before you can get too far. 

 He premises, "Just to get it out of my system," then bends down and kisses you. Palms covering your cheeks, fingers curling around the back of your head kisses you. He uses both of his thumbs, just under your mouth, to part your lips so that he can slide his tongue past them, and you push at his chest half-heartedly, no real force to it as you let him lick into your mouth. 

 The first whimper that escapes you is what makes you break away, your hands stronger against him to shove him back, and Mike smirks when you glare at him. 

 "You're on thin fucking ice, Zacharias. Thin ice."

 "I'll keep it in mind."

 With that, you leave the little alcove the two of you were in, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Mike just watches the sway of your hips and licks his lips. 

 *

 You come over on a Saturday afternoon. Mike can tell you've tried to make yourself look not cute in loose, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it doesn't work. Mike still smiles, and you still roll your eyes at him before kicking your shoes off by the door. 

 "Okay, so what are we doing?" You ask, sitting two cushions away from him on the couch. 

 "I brought my Switch in here, so we have that…"

 "Oh, do you have the SNES games downloaded?" 

 "Dumb question. Of course I do."

 "Rude. Open that shit up."

 He does, and you demand to play Donkey Kong, which Mike has no problem with, but, "A please would be nice."

 You click your tongue, holding your hand out for the second tiny controller and tell him, "You don't get to hear me beg anymore."

 Mike feels his shorts tighten, but all he does is kick a foot over his thigh and warn you, "Best not test my self-control like that."

 "Is that a threat?" You laugh, toggling down to 'Two Player' on the screen and clicking it. 

 "Not a threat." He bobs his head to the theme music. "Just lettin’ you know."

 You get as far as Mine Cart Carnage together, but Mike ends up getting tossed from the cart, leaving you to take over as Diddy. He watches the way you move with your character, sitting up straighter, raising the controller to your chest, swaying one way then the next as if your body is tied directly to the game. 

 Erwin walks in a little while later when you're focused on Stop & Go Station. He sits down in a plush chair, phone in his hand that he ignores in favor of asking, "What are you guys doing out here? Shouldn't you be in Mike's room?"

 Mike glances at him, gives him a look and shakes his head, but you're much less subtle when you snap, "Can it, Smith," eyes never leaving the screen. 

 "Don't count on that," Mike snorts. "I think it’s physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut for longer than four seconds." 

 "Wooow," Erwin drawls, thick eyebrows high in offense. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now you're just talking shit right in front of me."

 "For some reason, I get the feeling your ego can't get bruised that easily," you muse out loud. 

 "I'll have you know I can be very sensitive," Erwin informs you matter-of-factly. "I have a heart. I have feelings. And, I've been told on multiple occasions that I'm more considerate than most men, so there."

 You laugh, a silly sound that gets stuck in your throat. "Oh, really? And how many of those women—'cause that's what they are, I'm sure—were left behind after they built you up like that, hm?"

 Biting both of his lips, Erwin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I plead the fifth on that one."

 "Uh huh, that's what I thought."

 While you're fixated on the screen, Mike glances over at his friend, sees blue eyes shining as Erwin stares at you, a tell-tale smirk on his face. He's amused by you. Interested, even. 

 You stay for about an hour longer before going back to the dorms. As soon as the front door shuts, Mike swivels around and points a finger at Erwin, uttering a low, "Don't you dare," that makes the blond chuckle. 

 "Wouldn't dream of it."

 *

 You mostly hang out on weekends and only in small bursts. Alternating between movies and video games, it's a little hard to speak to one another, but Mike is still able to pry some information out of you and share more about himself. 

 You're majoring in geological and earth sciences while Mike is working toward a degree in environmental science— "Kinda weird we haven't run into each other before." 

 You played basketball for a year in high school before getting annoyed by the other girls. Mike, on the other hand, made some of his best friends on his old soccer team. 

 You had a ferret growing up and now you'll "Never get another pet again 'cause when he died, I died a little with him." (It's the first time Mike has ever seen tears in your eyes, but you blink them away at record speed). He tells you about the dogs his family has had and how the one at home with his parents now is actually his. (Her name's Scout, and I would take a bullet for her.") 

 Hitch is your best friend even though she irritates the shit out of you, and Mike says something similar about Erwin. "He's a good guy. He's just… Passionate about so many things. He gets obsessive. Drives me insane."

 "Obsessed with that pussyyy," you joke in a deep, stupid voice. 

 Mike snorts, "Perv," and keeps watching the movie that's playing. 

 And, speaking of movies, your favorite Disney film is The Fox and The Hound— "Good taste," while his is Lion King— "Classic." As far as other movies, though, the two of you spend half an hour arguing over which Mel Brooks is the best, end up having to agree to disagree (Young Frankenstein vs. High Anxiety).

 Your favorite color is green. Your favorite food is pizza (“What are you, twelve?”). Your favorite animal is the pangolin. They’re all little facts that Mike stores away, and by the end of the semester, he actually feels like he kind of knows you, and somehow, against all odds, you've managed to not hookup through it all. 

 That's not to say it hasn't been hard (that he hasn't been hard). Sometimes you come over in skin tight jeans or crop tops, outfits that accentuate your body in all the right ways, and Mike is pretty sure that you do it on purpose. 

 You're both careful not to drink too much at parties, aware of the likely consequences, but you hang around him enough to gain people's attention—jealous girls watching in disappointment, curious guys sizing you up. 

 Questions inevitably arise. You complain about Hitch pestering you for details that you will not give her, and he tells you how he has to keep brushing off his brothers. 

 "She doesn't, like, know we've had sex—would never fucking leave me alone if she did. But she and all her other little friends are so annoying about it."

 You're on the steps outside of the frat house, jackets zipped up, nursing steaming cups of cocoa you got from the nearby shop. 

 "So, what do you tell them?" Mike asks. 

 You shrug your shoulders. "That we're not fucking. Just friends. They don't believe me, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it, dammit."

 Mike laughs through his nose and takes another drink. "I mean, it's not a lie since we're not fucking and we are friends."

 You make a high pitched noise, doubtful, challenging. "Friends is a strong word."

 "Whatever." 

 He's used to you doing that now, denying him every chance you get even in a joking way. You've never once admitted to any type of feelings out loud, and he isn't sure why, some kind of avoidance behavior, but he won't complain because he knows you're at least a little fond of him. You wouldn't keep spending time with him if you weren't. 

 Deciding to change the subject, Mike prompts, "So, Erwin's party over the break," and you glance at him over your cup with interest. "You're coming, right?" 

 "I don't know. Isn't it at, like, his ranch house in bum fuck nowhere?" 

 "Kinda. It's only about a two hour drive from here, but it's definitely off the beaten path."

 "I'll have to see. Need to spend time with my mom while I can." 

 Understandable. He's looking forward to seeing his own parents (and Scout, of course). 

 The last game of the season is played and won, then finals pass after too many all-nighters and too much Red Bull. Mike actually sighs in relief when he slides into his white Wrangler, all packed up and ready to make the drive back to his house. 

 He sends one text before pulling out onto the main road—Be safe—and hopes he won't have to wait an entire month to see you again. 

*

 Staying with your mom is nice but always slightly depressing. The house is empty with just her in it, less lived in than ever before. You can tell exactly which spots she spends most of her time in—her office to work and the couch in front of the TV to wind down. 

 You sleep in your old bedroom, spend most evenings texting Hitch after your mom goes to bed, but a few conversations with Mike slip in too. He sends you several pictures of Scout—beautiful but always wearing one of those perpetual Boxer frowns—and in return, you send him pictures of the pretty betta your mother has in her office. It's the best you can do. 

 After a week of being in your hometown, you're ready to leave it again. It's not terrible or in a bad part of town. It's just… lacking. You'd never tell your mother this, but you have a feeling she knows. It's probably why she doesn't put up a fight when you tell her you're gonna run off for a couple days to attend Erwin's party. 

 "I promise I'll be back. It's just one night and then the drive back."

 Her tone is very serious when she tells you to stay out of trouble, but then she walks you out to your car and hugs you, watching and waving as you drive away. 

 You text Erwin on the way there to ask if it's okay to arrive early—like a few hours early cause I needed to get out of my house—and he replies enthusiastically.

 Absolutely! Mike and Levi are already here 😃

 You have no idea who this Levi is outside of hearing Erwin mention him a few times, but you very quickly find out when you get to the large but secluded house. You see Erwin's stupid (gorgeous) vintage Mustang parked in the gravel driveway as well as Mike's white Jeep and an unfamiliar, black Prius. 

 All three of them are on the porch occupying outdoor chairs that probably cost more than your fucking dorm expenses, but Mike and Erwin both stand when you make your way up the sidewalk. Staying seated, or really sprawled out with his hands behind his head, is a fairly small man (boy, maybe) with inky hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s dressed much differently than the other two, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and a striped long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved band tee. 

 “What in the e-boy fuck…” You mutter to yourself, nodding at the blonds and letting Mike take your backpack—not that you really have a choice considering your grip on it is no match for his. 

 “Was the drive okay?” He asks, swinging the bag over his shoulder and making it look incredibly small. 

 “Yeah. Once I hit the backroads I could start going, like, eighty-five, so that shaved some time off.”

 Mike snorts. “You sound like Erwin. Dude’s always speeding.”

 “Don’t fucking start with me. I was in the car with you when you almost hit a pedestrian on a crosswalk.”

 “We don’t talk about that.”

 Everyone follows Erwin inside the house. It’s just as nice as you thought it’d be, sprawling and open with wood floors, plush furniture, and rustic decorations. There are moose antlers mounted in one room and a god damned bear head in another. It makes you roll your eyes, but to say you’re unimpressed would be a flat out lie. 

 “Not everyone is staying the night, but I know you have to, so just pick an upstairs room,” Erwin tells you after the grand tour. “I can take you around on the golf cart once you settle in.”

 You see Mike roll his green eyes and amend, “We can take you around.” 

 “Yeah,” Erwin nods. “That’s what I meant.”

 Levi is making a face up at Erwin, furrowed brow, squinty eyes, and a little grimace. He hasn’t said more than two words to you since you’ve arrived (“I’m Levi.”), but he doesn’t seem like the chatterbox type, a little more standoffish, and you can’t blame him for that. 

 “Just in case you’re wondering, I’m in the middle room,” Mike tells you with a grin.

 “And why, pray tell, would I be wondering that?”

 He basically sings in his deep voice, “No reason,” then walks back downstairs with Erwin and Levi, leaving you to make yourself comfortable. 

 You take the bedroom at the far end of the hallway out of spite more than anything, but you figure the farther away you can be from Mike the better. After setting your things down and organizing deodorant, perfume, and every day jewelry on the dresser, you join the guys downstairs to find them huddling over the kitchen island talking about plans for the night. 

 “Should we get a keg? It won’t be that many people, but it might be easier to just pour from one,” Erwin thinks out loud. 

 “Don’t bother getting a keg if it’s gonna be the same shitty beer you guys have at Pike parties,” you chime in, hip checking Mike so that he’ll scoot over and allow you join their little meeting. 

 Levi lets out a little laugh, the most expressive you’ve seen him so far, while the other two pout at your criticism. 

 “Why don’t you pick the beer then?” Erwin prompts. “Since you have such refined tastes.” 

 Eyebrows lifting, you laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a smartass in the house tonight.” The blond smirks and dusts off his shoulders, making Mike groan in either annoyance or embarrassment. You can’t be sure which one. 

 “Fuck, is this what it’s always like between you three?” Levi asks, looking between all of you. “Just constant bickering?”

 “More or less.”

 “That seems exhausting.”

 “It is,” you confirm. “‘S’why I can only hang out with them in small doses.”

 “Ouch.”

 “Wounded.”

 “Anyway,” you let your head hang so that all they can see is your shoulders shaking as you giggle, and when you look back up, you make sure that the smile is mostly wiped from your face. “I’m not saying I’m some kind of beer expert, but I at least know that the shit you serve at parties is rancid.”

 “And yet, you always seem to forget,” Mike teases. “I always end up having to finish yours.”

 “You don’t have to. You choose to, you fucking alkie.”

 It’s hard to come to any sort of decision with the non-stop push and pull of the conversation, and eventually Levi just walks away to let the three of you work it out. Erwin orders a keg of Rolling Rock, says something about, “Dad won’t mind me splurging a little since I downsized this whole thing for him,” and you scoff at him. 

 He’s well aware of his privilege, talks about it in an ironic manner that’s both maddening and hilarious— “Father is going to let me take the yacht out this weekend,” and, “Oh, that’s not country club appropriate.” It makes you laugh every fucking time, but it also usually earns him a smack or two. 

 The next few hours are spent gathering party supplies and getting the house ready (as in moving some furniture around and hiding valuables). Erwin leaves to pick up the keg after assuring the vendor on the phone that he can drive to them and pay extra for the short notice. You don’t know how he manages it, but you assume his confidence has a lot to do with it.

 Only about twenty people are supposed to come, “An Erwin Smith exclusive,” Mike jokes with you as you stash a couple of vases in the kitchen cabinets. 

 “Oh, does that mean I’m special?” You play.

 “Absolutely.”

 There’s something churning in your gut as you move around downstairs with Mike and Levi, an omniscient feeling, like you know how the night will end, but you’re going to fight it every step of the way. You’ve made it this long without a slip-up, and you’re determined to make it one more night. 

 Erwin gets back with about three hours to spare. He and Mike disappear to change into what you assume to be their usual douche-y attire, and you and Levi sit alone in the large living room waiting quietly. 

 You’re surprised when he speaks first, stating, “You don’t seem the sorority type.”

 Turning, you try to make sense of it, respond, “Well, I’m not.” You’re almost offended that he’d even consider you were.

 “Then what are you doing hanging around with those frat boy fucks?”

 “Oh, that.” You sigh. “Uhh, my friend made me go to one of their parties, and I just… Made an impression, I guess.”

 “You fucked one of ‘em, didn’t you?” Levi is smirking, so sure of himself that you don’t really see the point in denying it.

 “Yeah.”

 “Rich boy or the giant?”

 You look over at him, defenses rising like they did your first night in the Pi Kappa Alpha house. “The fuck is it to you?”

 Holding his hands up, Levi chuckles, “Alright, alright, forget I asked.”

 You cross your arms over your chest, stare off as you wonder if it’s actually that hard to tell. You figured it would be obvious that you’re more comfortable with Mike than with Erwin, but you have been getting more used to the other brazen blond over the last few months, just like you’ve been getting a little more used to Nile and all the other brothers. You haven’t sucked any of their dicks, though. 

 “How’d you meet Erwin?” You try.

 You’re not surprised when Levi snarks, “The fuck is it to you?” 

 You can’t tell if the two of you are going to leave this ranch house as mortal enemies or as friends, but it’ll definitely be one of them. 

 “‘Cause you don’t seem the type to hang out with them either,” you tell him.

 It's definitely odd. He and Erwin have to go back some time to have been able to stick together through their college years and all of their superficial differences. 

 Levi admires the black polish on his nails then informs you in a bored tone, “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but it’s no big deal. Just can’t get rid of him.”

 The corner of his mouth turns upward, so he can’t be too heartbroken over it. You understand that, haven’t quite been able to shake your puppy-dog of a friend since the beginning of the semester, but you’re not as annoyed about it as you pretend to be. 

 “They certainly do get attached,” you hum.

 The two men in question join you once again, looking much more palatable in jeans and v-necks. Erwin has a button-down hanging open and rolled up to his elbows while Mike is wearing a black and white flannel in similar fashion. It’s the most casual they’ve been at a party, and you can’t help but joke, “Wow, look at you two. More human, less lizard people for once.”

 Erwin rolls his eyes while Mike mumbles a Doctor Who reference that makes you suck on the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. 

 He’s got his charm turned on tonight, the kind that appeals to you, which will definitely pose a problem.

 People start arriving at around eight, some you recognize from the college, some you don’t who you assume to be some of Erwin’s older friends. Gelgar taps the keg within minutes of walking in then plays the role of bartender for the next ten minutes as everyone lines up for a drink. There’s liquor and mixers set up on the counter, and you consider just making your usual, but you figure you should have at least a little of the beer since you’re the one who fought for the more expensive brand. 

 When you get your cup, foam nearly overflowing past the rim, you take one sip only to cough it back up when Mike shows off his usual party trick—appearing out of thin air—and asks, “You gonna finish it this time?”

 You splutter as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand then glare up at him. “I’m gonna try, but it’s gonna be pretty fuckin’ difficult if you keep making me spit up like a god damn baby.”

 He’s amused, light eyes dancing mischievously, and you know you’re in for a long night. 

 Erwin has a playlist filtering through the house’s sound system, a nice balance of several different genres playing at a bearable volume for the first time. Games start up in the kitchen, rage cage around the island, beer pong at the table, and while you’re content to just wallflower in the corner, Mike drags you into it. 

 “You’re just as bad as Hitch," you complain, but he isn't fazed, just plants you in an open spot at the island and stands right beside you. He's gonna regret doing that; rage cage is one of the only competitive games you're actually good at, but he'll find that out. 

 It's fast-paced, full of screaming and laughing, jumping and shoving. You get to slam your cup into Mike's on several occasions, drawing curses from him every time. 

 "Honestly, it's a little embarrassing," you ridicule with a smile. 

 He downs the small amount of beer in the cup he pulls, adds it to the stack, then challenges, "I'll show you embarrassing. Just wait." 

 You've had maybe two beers altogether, but it still sends a jolt down your spine. 

 The two of you play another couple of rounds, and Mike does seem to catch on a little more, but he eventually bows out and pulls you away with him. 

 More beer. Meandering around the party. It's pretty tame in comparison to all the Pike events you've attended, but the later it gets, the rowdier everyone becomes. Music gets turned up to dance. The keg stops being used for pouring and starts being used for stands. You have the absolute pleasure of watching Erwin hold Levi upside down as the smaller man chugs as much as he can. He beats Nile's record, raises his arms in victory as Erwin shakes him by the shoulders in excitement. 

 "They're pretty close, yeah?" 

 Mike looks down at you as you stand on your tip-toes to get closer to his ear as you speak. 

 He nods. "I don't really understand them, but yeah. They've been friends since, like, elementary school, I think."

 "No shit?"

 "No shit."

 You play beer pong against Gelgar and Nile, end up losing by quite a lot, and by the time you finish the remaining cups and another full drink, you're feeling good. Warm, happy, dangerously giggly. 

 Mike stands too close as you make your rounds to talk to people, many of them asking how the lacrosse season went. He puffs his chest a little, tries and fails to act modest, but instead of getting irritated like you usually do, you find yourself resting your cheek against his arm as you shake your head. You don't know if the action is to disagree with him or to get closer, but it makes Mike chuckle and shift so that he can wrap that arm around you and pull you to his chest instead. 

 He smells nice—woodsy with a sweet little bite. It makes your mouth water. You try to call back your determination from before, that readiness to fight and deny, but Mike's body is firm and massive and hot against yours, and he's also drunk and smiling sideways. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous when he peers down at you. His stubble has grown into that perfect length, the kind that feels incredible between your legs, and you can already see your hands tugging at his shaggy hair as he flips it from his face. 

 "You okay?" He rumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

 He knows. You know he knows. And, he knows that you know that— 

 Fuck. Stop. Just…

 "What do you think?" You're aware of what you're saying. The words make perfect sense. You just can't stop them from falling from your mouth is all. 

 "I don't know," Mike says, a playful lilt to his voice. "Why don't you tell me?" 

 You're not sure if he's asking for your consent or if he just wants to humiliate you by making you spell it out for him. 

 "I mean…" Your gaze travels from his face to his neck to his pecs and downward. "The semester is over."

 "It is," he agrees, hand moving from your waist to your hip. 

 "Don't really need to be, uh… What's the word…" You squeeze your eyes shut, splaying your fingers on his stomach. "Studious," you snap. "Don't need to be so studious on vacation."

 Mike very slowly starts walking backwards toward the staircase, holding you at arms length by both your hips now. 

 "No, you really don't." 

 Voice of reason fading away, you step around him but grab his hand, taking the stairs two by two until you're on the balcony that wraps above the living room. Once you slip into the closer room, yours, you lock the door. 

 Mike's mouth is familiar in its desperation—tastes like beer and want and him. He pulls his flannel off behind him by the sleeves just in time for you to start pushing his shirt up over his abs, in awe all over again at the muscle group. 

 It's really not fair. 

 You pause between kisses to strip, smiling and groaning whenever your lips meet again. You've missed it on some level—the heat, the fucking attraction you just can't shake. All the times you hung out with him, purposely keeping distance, avoiding flirting and touching and staring—you figured it would come to a head. You even guessed there was a good chance that it would be at this party. 

 But, that doesn't mean you're prepared when he throws you onto the bed, doesn't prepare you for the way he bites your lip and sucks on your neck and pinches your nipples until you moan his name and grind against him, and it certainly doesn't prepare you for the way he spreads your legs, runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, then drags his tongue over your slit. 

 "Fuck, Mike." 

 He groans, quick to slide the muscle into your pulsing cunt to taste you. His fingertips are digging into the fat of your thighs, keeping you still save for your trembling which makes the feeling of his mouth even more intense. You want to buck against his face, want to put out the fire raging inside of you by moving somehow, letting some of the energy out, but you can't. All you can do is lay there as Mike licks around your hole and nibbles at your clit and laps up your juices. 

 "Missed this fuckin' pussy," he breathes, sucking on one of your lips and then the other, pulling blood to the surface and making them puffy and sensitive. 

 You card fingers through his hair before fisting your hand in it and shoving his face further into your cunt, trying as hard as you fucking can to ride any part of him you can manage—his tongue, his nose, anything that will give you friction. 

 The sound he makes at your pathetic attempt is bestial, a low, throaty grunt as he rubs his chin up and down your slit, drenching himself in your slick and quickly overstimulating your swollen clit with his stubble. 

 "Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

 "You wanted it," he grits. "You pushed your sloppy little cunt right in my face, so now you've gotta take everything I give you." 

 You cry as he continues the motion, pussy drooling as the little bud starts to grow raw. "Mike, please, please…"

 "Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." He stops only to lean back down and suck your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue is soft in comparison to the coarse hair, but it still makes your hips twitch, and when he grazes his teeth over it, you squeal and kick. 

 It's so close to hurting, right on the edge, but it's that helplessness that has you steadily leaking on the bed. It's what makes it easy for Mike to push a finger into your clenching hole, pump a couple times, then slide another one in beside it. 

 Your climax is coiling in your gut, compressed like a spring and only getting tighter with every thrust of long, thick fingers and every measured flick of his tongue. 

 Gripping his hair again, you ride it out. Mike loosens his grip just enough to allow you to undulate in time with the waves that wash over you, and you moan loudly as he moves to flatten his tongue over your entrance so that you come on and against it. 

 He gives you some time to settle down, but you know he isn't done yet, and since you're not quite ready to take his cock in your sensitive pussy, you pull your legs from the sides of his head and crawl to lay with your head off the side of the bed. 

 Mike gets the picture immediately, and you hear a huff of air leave him all at once before he clambers off the mattress to position himself at the edge. You're a little too low, so he grabs all four pillows to shove under you, and as he does, you lavish his bobbing cock with kitten licks, going as far as sucking on his balls when he leans over you. 

 "Jesus fucking—" 

 You can feel the way they tighten, his cockhead dripping pre that lands just below the notch of your sternum. It isn't until he's thoroughly coated in spit that you stop and let him straighten, then open your mouth and relax your shoulders. 

 Mike is careful as he slides his tip past your lips, letting you adjust to the weight of his cock in your mouth before he pushes in a little further. Your eyes start watering as soon as he passes between your molars, making you stretch your jaw and drool from the corners of your mouth. 

 He pulls out then, taps his cockhead on your cheek, leaving a mix of precum and spit on your skin before lining himself up again and sliding back in. 

 He repeats the process a few times as if it'll actually get you used to his size, but it's just not possible. You gag and gurgle, slurp back drool when you're given the chance, and your entire body throbs when Mike tells you, "I'm gonna give you more now, okay? Wanna see your throat bulge with my cock."

 You moan around him, try to make the passage of your mouth and esophagus as straight as possible then let your eyes roll back as he slips into the tighter sleeve for a few seconds. Your toes dig into the bedspread, fingers clawing at the material as you fight back the panic that comes with not being able to breathe. 

 Mike pulls out panting, and you wish you could see his face, the look in his eyes, but you can't. All you can do is lap at his cock until he pushes it into your mouth again. 

 This time when he slips into your throat, he reaches down to press a hand to your neck, letting out a deep, disbelieving laugh as he feels the way his length moves in it. "Holy shit. I could—" he just barely gives you more, and your responding whine is completely muffled by him, "—Could come like this."

 The thought makes you tingle. Or maybe that's the lack of oxygen. You are feeling a little lightheaded. But the idea of him coming down your throat, right into your stomach, fuck, it makes your cunt pulse again. 

 Mike pulls out, and you suck in deep breaths, a little sob making your chest heave. Tears are streaming from your eyes, getting caught in your hair, and you have to wipe other various fluids from your face. 

 He helps you sit back up, rubs your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck as your heart rate returns to normal. As soon as he sees you relax, though, he's tugging you from the bed and bending you over it. 

 The scream that's pushed from you is hoarse as you're split open on his cock. Mike holds you by the hair, pulling your head back as he snaps his hips forward and back relentlessly. He slides in and out of you easily, but that doesn't mean he isn't stretching you to your breaking point. 

 You shake on the bed, thankful when he lets go of your head so that you can fall back to the mattress, crying and moaning all you want. 

 "Feel so good, baby," Mike groans. "So good."

 He punctuates it with a slap to your ass that causes you to squeeze him, and that only encourages him to repeat the action until both your cheeks are radiating heat and stinging from his hands. 

 He flips you like a doll, and you're finally able to see his face clearly as he stares down at you with a dropped jaw and heavy lids. You know you're a mess, fucked out and sloppy, but as he abuses your g-spot with the ridge of his cock, all you can do is grin drunkenly and let your eyes roll. 

 "So pretty when you smile," he praises. Fingers grip your chin, and when you're able to focus your gaze again you find Mike leaning over you, face level with yours. "Open your mouth for me." His tone is soft yet demanding, and you don't hesitate for a second as you do what you're told. 

 Mike pushes spit through his lips, letting it drip and stretch until it lands on your tongue. It makes you feel cheap and disgusting, but it doesn't stop you from squirting around him. 

 Devolving into nothing more than grunts and groans, Mike continues to fuck into you but straightens so that he can reach your clit better. He flicks it back and forth until your true orgasm hits you, and then he keeps going. 

 You cry out, squirm wildly beneath him, but all it results in is two fingers being shoved in your mouth. Stroking over the back of your tongue, more saliva pours from your mouth just like the slick that pours from your pussy while he toys with your clit. 

 You come again. And again. When Mike finally removes his hand from between your legs, you're nothing more than a puddle, moaning and crying for him. 

 Every orgasm has made your walls swell around him, his cock feeling longer and thicker than ever as he kisses your cervix with every thrust. That lightheaded sensation is back, white dots dancing around your eyes, and you just barely manage out his name, tapping in his forearm. 

 "Need… need…"

 "What do you need, babe?"

 Your arms curl up by your head, fingers moving and spasming as every one of your senses is overwhelmed.

  "Need you to—t-to—to come. Need you to c-come." 

 You've never had to tap out before, but you can't take him anymore. His size. His expression. His lack of fucking mercy.

 "Yeah?" He coos, but his cock is still dragging in and out of you. You nod, but Mike draws it out, asking, "Where do you want me to come?"

 "Don't… Care…"

 "You don't care?" He's still moving, fucking you absolutely stupid as he lists out, "Your face? Your tits?" He gropes your chest, pinching both nipples, and the fact that you don't even whimper must clue him into the fact that he's about to lose you. 

 Your mind is swimming, fading every time he pulls out only to be brought back online when he pushes back in. 

 "What about your pussy? Want me to come all over your pussy?" 

 You moan, the simplest part of your brain apparently finding that appealing, so after a few more thrusts, Mike pulls out entirely and jerks himself off until he covers your folds in hot cum. He gets some on your thighs, some on your pelvis, soaks your peaking clit so that you take in a stuttering breath. 

 His hand is between your legs again, fingertips spreading the viscous fluid around and dipping into your slit.

 Your eyes shoot open for the first time in God knows how long, a panicked, "M-Mike," tumbling from your lips, but he hushes you.

 "I'm not pushing it inside or anything. Just having fun."

 And, fuck, tonight is the night you learn how filthy he is. Mike spends a few solid minutes rubbing his seed over your puffy lips, fingers the raw tissue around your hole so that you leak for him, then uses it to massage your clit slowly and softly, pulling one last orgasm from you that makes fresh tears spring in your eyes. 

 You're going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you can't regret it—not when your legs continue to shake long after your climax, not when you can already feel that satisfying ache deep inside of you, not when Mike crawls to sit on the bed and lifts you into his arms. 

 "You okay?" He asks into your hair. 

 He's rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you drift in and out. You know you need to shower, but you're so tired and so wrecked, you doubt you'll be able to stand for long enough to clean yourself. 

 "Did I hurt you?" 

 "Mm, little bit," you tell him honestly. You can actually feel his heart start to beat harder in his chest, so you reassure him, "Liked it, though."

 You think something like twenty minutes pass, but you can't be sure as you keep dozing. It's hard not to with Mike rubbing your stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with every breath he takes. 

 When your eyes open more than halfway, you begin to move, grimacing at the soreness between your legs as well as the mess. 

 "'m gonna hop in the shower," you announce. 

 Mike sits up too, stretches his arms and asks through a groan, "Want me to come with?"

 "You've done enough coming tonight," you snort. "But nah, I can clean myself on my own."

 His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you get up and walk to the bathroom on shaky legs. 

 The hot water almost puts you back to sleep. You manage to rinse off where you need to, step back into the room fully expecting to see Mike passed out in your bed, but he's nowhere to be found. 

 As you crawl under the covers, you try to swallow the feeling of disappointment that's stuck in your throat. 

 *

Mike is up before almost everyone in the house the next morning, so he spends most of it trying to clean up alongside Levi, though he apparently isn't doing a very good job of it according to the smaller man. 

 "Jesus, have you ever mopped a floor in your life?" 

 "Oh, so we're just throwing everything in the same trash bag? No recycling? Your future kids will thank you for that, I'm sure."

 "No, there's no way I’m letting you wipe down the counters. Just move." 

 Levi is lucky Mike is as laid back as he is otherwise he would have thrown the little fuck into the koi pond behind the house a long time ago. 

 Erwin wakes up around nine and walks down looking a little rough, but Mike has definitely seen him in worse states. 

 "Thanks for cleaning up," he says, bent over the island and holding his head in his hands. "Pretty sure I would have thrown up if I'd tried. Several times."

 He tells the other two that pretty much everyone else started heading out at around three and that he has a list of party-goers he needs to text to make sure they made it home in one piece, "When I can actually fucking see straight."

 Naturally, the conversation turns to Mike. Erwin, with his cheek now pressed against the cool, granite countertop, smirks up at him and asks in a sly voice, "So, how was your night?' 

 Mike bites his lip to hide a smile, leans out of the kitchen to make sure you aren't stumbling down the stairs or traipsing about the house, then looks back to his friend and laughs, "Fucking mind-blowing, dude." He doesn't go into explicit detail—that's never been his style—but he does whisper about you taking him better than any other girl and that he's, "Addicted, dude. I genuinely think I am addicted to her pussy." 

 "Don't be fucking dramatic, Zacharias," you pop out behind him, slapping his back as you pass him to get to the fridge. He can see the ghost of a smile turning your lips up, but it's hard to feel satisfied at that when his own face is beet red. 

 Looking at Erwin, Mike throws his hands out by his side, mutters an incredulous, "Dude," that makes the other blond chuckle. 

 You grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, making Levi grumble, "Are none of you guys concerned about the planet? God damn."

 Standing between Mike and Erwin, you take a few gulps, all eyes on you until you swallow and question, "Can I help you?" Now that you're right next to him, Mike can hear a scratchiness to your voice, almost as if you're getting sick, but he knows better, knows exactly where it came from, and fuck if it doesn't make him twitch in his sweats. 

 "Have a good time at the party?" Erwin pries once again. 

 You look at him with a deadpan expression, then answer, "Seems like you already got the deets, so sure. I had a grand time."

 Mike isn't sure if you're being sarcastic about it just like you are everything else. You had just kind of left him hanging when you'd gone to shower. He hadn't thought too much into it even if he'd been a little bummed, but he thinks he understands. You just need more space than he does. 

 Or, it could have been that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Oh god, what if you'd just been faking? What if you'd lied to him when he asked if he hurt you? What if you're in pain right now and just hiding it? 

 Mike zones out while you talk with Erwin and Levi about plans for the day, works himself into a nice little panic but is still able to hear you tell them you're just gonna head back to your mom's. 

 "You sure?" Erwin asks. "I know you only planned to stay one night, but you're more than welcome to hang out for longer. We’ll be here for at least another few days."

 Levi adds an, "Unfortunately," that earns him a hair ruffle he swats away. 

 "No, it's cool. I can't leave mom alone for the holiday or she'll start to think I don't like staying at the house."

 "You don't, though."

 "Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that."

 Mike stares after you as you take your water bottle and return upstairs, and it doesn't escape the notice of the other two men. 

 "You're so fuckin' whipped, man," Erwin teases. 

 Mike doesn't deny it, just holds up a middle finger. 

 Erwin isn't entirely wrong, though. Mike has been trying to deny it or play it off as nothing more than lust, but there's more to his feelings at this point. He tries not to be obvious around you, to keep his cards close to his chest because he knows you just want to keep things casual—barely even want that if he's being honest. 

 So he can hide it. He can pretend it isn't happening. In fact, Mike should be thankful that you only want sex (sometimes) because it leaves him to do whatever he wants. He could fuck other chicks left and right, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That's a good thing, right? 

 That worry about last night still has him on edge, though, so before you can leave, Mike catches you in your room as you're packing up and closes the door. 

 He expects you to make some kind of comment about not being able to go again, but all you do is tilt your head to the side in a dangerously cute way. 

 "Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you felt okay after last night." 

 You blink at him, pause in folding your clothes, then show a wide, real grin. 

 "Yeah, I'm fine. Sore in various places—like, super sore—but I'm fine."

 Mike's mouth twists to hide his smirk, and he mumbles a low, "Sorry."

 "Don't ever apologize for your monster cock," you tell him, setting your shirt down on the mattress before pacing over to him. "Like, unless there's tearing of some sort, which there really shouldn't be since you're good at preparation, whoever you fuck should be okay. Sore but okay."

 His eyes go a little wide when you stop in front of him, looking up with an expression he's really never seen before—or maybe that you've never allowed him to see before—and the longer he stares, the more he realizes that you're god damn glowing. 

 Taking a chance, he finds your waist with his hands, inches just a little closer, then leans down when you stand on your toes and tug him by the shirt. 

 You taste like peppermint and already smell like the perfume you wear every day, the scent that has made Mike dizzy for the past few months. He moves a hand to your back to press your body into his, and when you take his bottom lip into your mouth, biting and sucking, he groans and pulls back before he can get too hard. 

 "What's all this? Why are you so perky this morning?" 

 "I get giddy after good sex," you say with a shrug. "Sue me."

 "That why you run away every time I fuck you?" He questions.

 You nod. "Couldn't run away this time, though."

 "I'm sure it's really bruising your pride, letting me see you all warm and gooey." 

 "I am not warm and gooey," you protest. "I was last night, but—"

 "Aw, gross, why'd you have to say it like that?" 

 You giggle—giggle—then remind him, "You're the one who felt the need to fucking fingerpaint."

 Mike vividly remembers the way your pussy looked covered in his cum, the way it felt to smear it and play with your swollen entrance and clit, and now… Now he is definitely hard again. 

 "Better stop before you end up on that bed again."

 Your eyes are dancing, tone mischievous when you respond, "Only if you're gentle."

 "Christ—"

 He's got you naked and spread on the mattress in less than thirty seconds, tongue buried in your cunt as he soothes every part of you he can reach. 

 It would be cruel to actually fuck you again. He knows you're probably a little more tender than you're letting on, so Mike settles for licking into you and flicking your clit, never using teeth as it swells in his mouth so that you pant and moan, and promise, "I can handle it, Mike, I can…"

 "I don't care if you can or can't. Just lemme do this."

 And, it's not like he hasn't pulled his cock from his pants, pumping it and coating his length in the pre-cum he drips at the mere sight of you.

 He can tell you're getting close when your thighs start to tense. You alternate between shifting your hips and going slack. It's the latter that you leak the most, pussy opening around his tongue only to clench a few seconds later. 

 "Just one finger, Mike, please, I want—I need something inside me, please, please," you moan. 

 Mike turns his face to kiss your thigh, sighing but giving in easily when he acquiesces, "Only one."

 The noise you make as he slides his middle finger into you is like music, high pitched and drawn out, with an awe one would sing hymns with. 

 "Yes, yes, yes, thank you, fuck, tha—"

 He understands why you wanted it so badly when he pulls it out and sees his finger coated in white, considers fucking you with it to the point of tears, but before he can, the door to the bedroom swings open and fucking Erwin walks in to ask, "Levi and I are going to the store—"

 “Jesus fuck, Erwin!" Mike swears. "A little busy here!"

 His friend is unfazed, but more importantly, you are too, arching your back, pulling Mike's hair to get him back where you want him, then moaning his name like you never have before as you come. 

 You tremble and take in stuttering breaths, and Mike does his best to hide your exposed pussy from prying eyes as he looks at Erwin and barks out a furious, "No, I don't need anything from the store. Get out."

 The blond shrugs and turns, walking out without shutting the door, and Mike swears he's gonna kill him. He's too bold and too entitled and now he's seen far too much of your body, and Mike doesn't like that. 

 "Did you come?" You ask in an airy voice. Mike guesses you could feel the rhythm of his hand on his cock, probably pushing his face harder against you with every pass. 

 "Uh, no. I don't know if you noticed, but Erwin walked in."

 "I noticed," you snort, sitting up on your elbows. "Why do you think I moaned your name like that?"

 "What?" It had seemed a little odd. Mike knows he's pretty good at oral, but you've never made a sound like that before. 

 "Fucker wanted to see what we were up to, I decided to show him. Now he knows how good you are."

 Mike stands, peers down at you skeptically and says, "You're being too nice to me today. It's freakin' me out a little."

 He doesn't think it's necessary to add that Erwin is already aware of his sexual prowess considering they definitely had a threesome with a rather adventurous girl back in freshman year. It's just not pertinent information. 

 "Soak it up, Zacharias. I'm sure the good mood will be gone by tomorrow."

 "Why, cause I won't be at your mom's to fuck you stupid every night?" His voice comes out cocky, but it's stifled by the way you squeal when he slaps a hand over your wet pussy.

 "I'm sensitive, you asshole!" You're smiling even as you whine. "And, here I was about to give you head to get you off."

 "I mean, you can still do that."

 You glare up at him the whole time you slide off the bed to your knees, warn, "Better hope I don't bite."

 *

 After you leave (and after making out against Mike’s Wrangler for a little too long), he goes back inside to find Erwin and Levi lounging in the den with a movie playing. He wastes no time in snapping his fingers at Erwin and commanding, "We're gonna talk."

 "Oh, are we?" Erwin doesn't even look away until Mike grabs the back of his shirt, and only then does he move from his spot. "Okay, okay, watch the wrinkles, bro."

 He follows Mike into the kitchen, out of earshot unless either of them raise their voices which… Could happen. 

 "What the fuck was that?" Mike hisses. 

 Erwin looks at him with big blue eyes and plays dumb, "What the fuck was what?" 

 Taking a deep breath through his nose, Mike makes sure his voice comes out low and steady, "Smith, I swear to God, it's been a long time since I've punched you, but you're fuckin' testing me, dude."

 Erwin smiles, face lighting up with what looks like excitement but could also be fury. 

 "Mike," he starts. "Don't tell me you're getting violent over a girl." His tone is patronizing, his eyebrows are high, and his grin is downright menacing. 

 "I haven't gotten violent yet," Mike grits. 

 "Hey, how was I to know what you two were doing up there?" 

 "It's not about you walking in, dude! It's about you just fucking standing there!"

 Erwin chuckles and blows him off, "Mike, I've seen your dick before. You've got nothing to worry about."

 "That's not what I'm worried about. You just, like, came in when she was in a vulnerable position, and that's fucked up."

 "She didn't seem to mind."

 Mike sucks his teeth, takes another grounding breath, then asks again, "Why? Why did you wait to leave?" 

 "You want me to be honest?" Erwin rolls his neck then his shoulders. Mike has seen him do that many times before lacrosse games to loosen up—to get ready for a fight. 

 Mike's fist clenches at his side. "Yeah, I do."

 "You've been making yourself crazy over this girl since the start of the semester, and I want to know why."

 "What do you mean?" Mike doesn't know why he asks, has a pretty good idea of what Erwin is alluding to. 

 The blond still dodges the question but in about the worst way possible. "It's not like you two are exclusive or anything."

 Mike feels the way his lungs fill to the point of burning, how his jaw clenches until his molars begin to ache under the pressure, and before he really knows what's happening, he's bowing up to his best friend. 

 Erwin matches him, only a couple inches shorter, chin tilted, that maddening light in his eyes. 

 "Walk away, Mike," he warns. "And, we can forget this little spat even happened."

 Mike peers down his nose at him, trying to rein in his emotions because Erwin is right. You two aren't exclusive. You don't want to be. You told him it was because you need to focus on school, but it could be that you want other options. 

 But fuck, Mike doesn't want Erwin to be one of them. He's stolen more than a few girls right from under Mike's nose with his stupid charm and stupid face and stupid money. He doesn't want you to fall prey to all of it too. 

 Mike doesn't even register the quiet footsteps padding into the kitchen, but Levi's smartass, "You guys about to kiss or somethin'?" definitely snaps him out of his head. 

 Stepping back, Mike resists the urge to punch the counter and break his fucking hand, then turns and strides out. 

 He's supposed to stay at the ranch house for a couple more days, but Mike needs to distance himself before he does something stupid. 

 When he comes back downstairs with his bag on his shoulder and his keys in his hand, Erwin seems to realize his error on at least some level and stands from his place on the couch. 

 "Mike, come on, I'm sor—"

 "Let me cool off, dude,” Mike snaps.

 Erwin shuts his mouth and sits back down, smart enough not to follow Mike outside.

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