#like fr I wish I could quiz them about it

[im-no-jedi]

it always amuses me seeing someone be both a fan of Crit Role and TBB cause I’m like

do

do they know

do they know about Sam and Liam

do they????

[foggyparadisecandy]

On trauma processing ... I'm reading up on this stuff ... for my own needs but also because I'm still struggling with how I could have better helped my ex when she ran into her problem.

Another post that shouldn't be read - you've been warned - boring internal monologue stuff being written out.

I'm certainly smarter ... or at least more informed ... now then I was two and a half months ago.

Wishes are pointless and I don't generally indulge in them but ... yeah ... a time machine would be nice about now.

Not to salvage the relationship but to get her to a better place. Which tbh is really all I wanted with her - nurture and uplift ... nurture and uplift ...

But the thing I'm understanding the most is that most of us can work through trauma on our own. And most of us can build resilience and become stronger if we navigate the trauma properly.

That gives me hope for her. [My therapist and further readings have made me question this bullshit.] I need to let go of my savior complex ... she doesn't need me to "save" her.

Although ... also true ... she legit did not deal with her parental trauma properly. She just packed it down and it manifested in many self-hating ways. And this new trauma brought up some very horrible self-destructive, self-hate, nasty coping strategies.

So ... who knows who knows who knows how well she will do? I suspect ... strongly believe ... it will be more of the same for her until something even worse comes along. Will she survive it? IDK tbh. I'm not sure she's going to come out of the current round whole or alive.

Fuck. It doesn't matter. I mean ... it does matter to me ... fr fr fr ... but I'm powerless so it's not healthy to obsess. She made her choices. I'm not god. I have no say. It's over for me.

I understand it. I'm not sobbing any more. I'm not as lonely any more. I don't desperately ache and long to speak with her any more.

If I reflect back the stuff I've learned ... why tf was this break up so traumatic to ME? It was just a break up, right? And I know ... "you should allow yourself to experience what you experience and feel what you feel. Be kind to yourself."

But reading about people who go through SERIOUS stuff, it makes me wonder what the hell happened that I felt like I was hit by a truck and thrown into a bonfire and facing a firing squad.

Christ. I've always been so resilient and strong. Something about this triggered me in an extreme way.

My therapist had me take a quiz - I feel under "moderate trauma" - which I'm sure if I had taken it two months ago, it was a lot worse when I wasn't sleeping or eating and feeling ... pretty ... unhinged to say the least.

I need to ask her if she has any theories on this. It bugs me to feel so ... weak ... I guess ... Comparisons are the path to suffering but I feel like this wasn't "so bad". It was just a break up, right?

Fuck. Judging myself. Not a healthy pathway. I felt what I felt. I did what I did. I treated her as good as I could.

See ... no reason to read these things. Just sorting out thoughts and feelings. I am so much better and more even keeled these days.

I ... have ... accepted ... it's done. I really have ... I think lol.

I want to say "fuck her for treating me this way" and yeah ... fuck her for treating me this way. But also true: I forgive her and still care about her even though she did a really awful thing to both of us.

I keep repeating myself. But it gets easier each time to find peace in the situation.

I am getting stronger than I was. So she deserves thanks on many levels tbh. Even in the end, she did some lovely things for me - even though she did them in an awful way.

[gentlelime]

NO ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY I need to talk about this for a sec

Tldr: panic attack is fr about George or like. Idk some other bestie you have communication issues with that you can't live without

Pull me up, pull me out from the cage I've known

Meaning: You deliver me from imprisonment, you free me from suffering, very much lock-key symbolism and establishes a relationship of great importance that is capable of destroying a "cage" that makes up the perspective of narrator. The "cage I've known" seems like another way of saying mind, at least to me, in the context of the song. Could also be closet symbolism as well.

Pull me up, pull me up by the roots we've grown

Meaning: The phrase "roots" when referring to relationships typically refers to a close long-term bond, especially when combined with the phrase "we've grown." It could mean "you help me from this place of pain by reminding me of our long-term bond."

Alternatively, when I hear "pull me up" I think of marionette/puppet symbolism (pulling the strings up of a puppet) although I could see it just being easier to flow within the song to use up rather than it having a deeper meaning. BUT if you were to look at the phrase "pull me up by the roots we've grown" you could interpret it as 'string me along with our friendship'. So he's saying "pull me up," repeatedly, basically submitting to the puppeteer and saying they control his feelings because of how much they mean to him. (Tbh the lyrics just reminded me of puppet by Tyler somehow so I had to mention it)

Oh, the things you said keep me in my head. Wish that I could step into yours instead

Meaning: Very straightforward. "The words you say cause me to ruminate, or overthink. I wish I knew how you felt." Gives me flashbacks to the damn best friend quiz.

Alternatively, following along with the puppet analogy, when the puppeteer says his lines, the marionette is stuck in its head, being forced to mime the words and be pulled in different directions. When the writer says "wish I could step", they could literally mean they wish they could switch roles and be the puppeteer for once. He wants to feel "in control" of the person in the same way they have control over him.

You're so close, but, I'm on my own

Meaning: I read this as saying even though the narrator might be physically close to the subject, they're mentally apart. The narrator ruminates over what the subject says, and comes to the conclusion they're "alone" in their feelings. I definitely think the second line refers to thinking your feelings are unrequited, and you're "on your own" with your feelings.

Cause I just don't know where you're going

Meaning: "I can't tell what stage our relationship is going, I don't know what you want from me." Basically saying the writer don't know where they stand with the subject, evokes the line "what do you think you're doing?" From the context of the song, I could also see it as the subject pulling away from the narrator, which causes the distress and panic attack of the chorus.

.

Like I can do this all fucking day I need to stop why is this song literally about trying to confront someone whose been in your life for a long time with your feelings and feeling afraid of being apart from that person and possibly losing them because of your feelings. Why why why why I'm going crazy I'm just staring at my transcript from a twt video I kept replaying and it's like-What, why is this your fucking favorite song dream? Oh and resident dnfer Hannah's favorite song? awesome. Cool. If george says he loves it I'm killing myself

[florianniss]

Trouble with Angels

Chapter One

It’s eighteen days into Steve’s senior year, and he’s feeling trapped.

The only thing good about the all-boys school he’s been sentenced to are, well, the boys. Hundreds of them, most straight, but some not. He’s had his dick sucked by more people in the first part of this year than he’s had his whole life.

Course, that could be the fame, too.

Because all of the teachers know who Steve is. “Oh! You’re Richard Harrington’s boy.”

Yep. Dick’s son. That’s him. Because the staff knows him, so do the students. And hey, at least his father’s name is getting him blown.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“Amen,” Steve repeats, watching as the others open their eyes and their books. Everyone, that is, except for the new guy.

He’s been there for the first three periods, and Steve’s had him in every class. A quiet guy with big eyes, he sorta stands out amongst the others.

For one, he’s late. He didn’t start right away when everyone else did, so he’s a virtual unknown. For another, the teachers don’t interact with him like they do with the other students. They ignore him as he sits down and don’t call on him at all, even though he doesn’t volunteer.

(Steve never volunteers and he always gets called on.)

And then there’s his hair.

Long and curly, it’s pulled into a knot at the base of his neck. It shines coppery gold in sunlight, lighter on top and darker underneath. It looks soft and luxurious, and Steve wants to touch it to see if it actually feels that way.

It’s not a normal thing to wish for.

New guy’s head is still bowed as Mrs. Anderson begins with instructions for the quiz, reviewing the finer points of Calculus, and Steve can’t stop thinking about the dude’s hair.

Steve doesn’t hear a word she says. Either the new guy is serious about his prayers, or he’s fallen asleep.

It seems Mrs. Anderson thinks it’s the latter. She touches his shoulder gently and says his name.

“Mr. Munson? Mr. Munson.”

The boy stirs, nodding his head and saying quite clearly, “Amen.”

There are smiles all around Steve, and he can’t help himself from pulling one too. Mrs. Anderson makes a huffing noise and just continues on with her directions.

Mr. Munson ends up in band with Steve fourth hour, and it’s the only time the guy doesn’t fall asleep. He sits in the drum section two chairs down from Steve with his hands fisted on his thighs, leg vibrating with anxiety or happiness, or something.

As the bell rings and Steve waits for his turn out the door, he spies the band instructor, Mr. Norman talking to Mr. Munson in a very animated way. And he’s smiling.

(Mr. Norman never smiles. At least, not during fourth hour.)

Steve sits with the football boys during lunch and listens to them chatter about the upcoming Homecoming dance. They’re all excited because the school is teaming with the local public school for the event. And lord knows the religious officials are pushing the heterosexual event so they can raise a whole new generation of church donors.

Steve is jaded and he knows it.

Munson doesn’t show up for lunch, not that Steve is looking for him. (He’s looking because he wants to know what the deal is with him and Mr. Norman, that’s all.)

Jazz band proves interesting since there’s a new student there, too. He stands off in the far corner as students file in, watching with an aggressive expression that dares anyone to fuck with him. Steve feels something in his stomach that has nothing to do with the tacos from lunch, but he can’t help but notice the dude’s eyes are brown.

Mr. Norman waves Steve over, unsmiling. He crosses both arms over his chest and looks down his particularly long nose at him. “Mr. Munson is going to join you on guitar. You’ll share the parts, take turns. I would appreciate it if you work it out with him on which ones after class today. You think you can do that?”

Steve glances back over his shoulder at Munson who continues to glare at the other students. It’s not the best way to make friends at a new school.

“Yes, Mr. Norman.”

His music teacher was once quite the trumpet player. Steve looked him up. He was in a band and everything, a very non-christian band. Steve had hoped they’d play some interesting songs, but, no luck yet.

Steve doesn’t mind sharing. He is delighted, in fact. Solos always make him nervous, and he’d much rather play bass guitar or piano anyway. Munson can have the lead, for all he cared. As long as he was good.

They do their regular warmups and start a new song, something from the sixties that sounds exactly like the type of song his dad would listen to. Steve hates it, but he endures, because Munson watches his goddamn hands as he plays.

It’s incredibly unnerving.

After class, Steve zips his instrument back into its case and waits for the rest of the students to go. Even Mr. Norman disappears down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone and setting the scene for the turning point for Steve’s whole life.

“Hey, I’m –,” he begins, waving awkwardly and then shoving his hand quickly in his pocket. His voice cracks and he has to start over again. “I’m Steve.”

Munson nods with his hands at his sides. He pushes up his sleeves in a menacing move, showing his skin inked with the kind of tattoos Steve’s dad would immediately have a stroke over.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice deeper than Steve imagined. He brushes the curls off his forehead, something that’s probably a reflex, and assesses Steve with wide-eyed intensity.

Steve can feel his insides crawling as this guy takes in his perfectly sculpted hair, the brand-new clothes, the unscuffed white shoes. He’s drawing conclusions about Steve before he even knows him, just like everyone else.

“So, Steve,” Eddie says, big brown eyes focused dead-center on Steve’s. There’s something there that isn’t entirely hateful. A hint of mischief. A splash of pain. “You got a car?”

Steve’s mouth falls open and he stammers a reply. “S-sure. Y-yeah, I do.”

“Cool.” Eddie nods as if he approves of the answer. “I’m dying for a smoke.”

They ditch. Steve sneaks out the back door of the band room with Eddie close behind. They stick close to the trees and hurry behind the big utility building that’s used to store school vehicles. Steve runs the short distance to the parking lot where his BMW waits in the shade. (Thank god he has the keys in his pocket)

“Holy shit,” Eddie whistles as he climbs in the passenger side and slams the door. “You rich or something?”

Steve starts the car, heart pounding not only from the sprint, but also from the thrill of escape. “It’s my dad’s.”

Steve figures he’ll be buying the guy’s cigarettes, but that’s not the way it goes. Eddie pays for them with an ID that has a birthday listed as sixty-five, and Steve does a little math inside his head.

(Yeah, that kind of math he can do.)

“That ID yours?” Steve asks as they pull out of the gas station and drive for the park. Eddie doesn’t light up inside the car, which is kind of a relief. Steve’s dad would make him clean it inside and out if he smelled even the faintest whiff of smoke.

“Yup,” Eddie confirms with a sideways glance. “What? You got a problem driving around with an older guy?”

It’s a good thing Steve’s seated because his knees felt a little funny thinking about the way Eddie said ‘older guy.’

“No. Just wanted to know if it was real.”

Eddie turns quick and looks out the window. “It’s real. Nineteen-year-old loser here.”

It’s spoken as if being older is the real problem, and not the loser part. And Steve doesn’t know what to say.

They perch on a picnic table top at the park and garner irritated looks from a couple of moms who are there not watching their children play. Eddie sits downwind, blowing the smoke away from Steve’s face, which is such a thoughtful thing to do that Steve resets his own preconceived notions of the guy.

“Want one?”

Steve looks at the opened pack with a watering mouth. He hasn’t had a cigarette in months, not since the spring of last school year. Training for baseball kept him dry from both booze and smoke, but since it’s just football now, he figures, what the hell.

“Thanks.”

Steve takes it slow, determined to not embarrass himself in front of Eddie. He’s nineteen. He’s tatted. His hair is fabulous and he hasn’t said one thing about Steve being a rich daddy’s boy. And Steve will not choke.

“Well. What’s your story, Harrington? You’re the first person to introduce yourself to me since I came. You don’t seem a bit fazed about skipping class with a shoddy-looking burnout whose own foster family shipped him off to a Jesus-loving boarding school because he did some bad things. You fuckin’ stupid?”

Steve lets the confession make its way through his skull, working the words over and over again, and finds he isn’t the least bit offended.

Eddie takes a long drag and holds it inside, blowing it skillfully out of the side of his mouth. He watches Steve’s hand while he does it, studying the fingers holding the cigarette. The end has gone all dry and it’s about to fall off onto the bench seat. Steve taps it off and self-consciously runs a hand through his hair with his unoccupied fingers.

“Not totally.”

“Not totally, huh? Well. What then?”

Steve finishes his cigarette and puts it out beneath his foot. “My parents are super religious and enrolled here this year because of the scare at the high school about satanic rituals.”

Eddie’s eyebrows peak and he looks more carefully at Steve, as if he can see right through his eyes into his soul. “That so?”

Steve shrugs. “That’s what they say. But actually, my dad is pissed they gave my football scholarship to somebody else.”

Again, Eddie scrutinizes Steve’s face. He frowns a little and opens and closes his mouth twice without saying anything. Steve fills the silence with a question of his own.

“You live in the dorms? What’s that like?”

Eddie’s frown intensifies. “You don’t live on campus? I thought everyone did.”

It’s like every single one of Steve’s worst nightmares. “No. My old man called in a few favors so I could drive home every night. He likes to keep an eye on me, likes to know where I am.”

There’s something in Eddie’s eyes that says he understands. “He doesn’t trust you.”

“Nope,” Steve laughs and doesn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Heaven forbid I go out and have fun and get someone pregnant before my long and successful career in ball is over.”

“Did you get somebody pregnant?”

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[imlosingmyfuckingmindgirl]

past week, feb 12

0216 in the morn, chanel frank ocean playing.

damn, it felt like a long ass dream lol, this week. they said to perform at the MC night, wrote a verse. wrote another 8 bars, made it 16. all them members were smilin all the time. it was fire as fuck.

it was supposed to be a test in the eve of 10th, friday. but because some guys also had yoga classes. they had to be cancelled. so i was relieved, as i did not study shit. but it was alright, but at the same time i hate it when things dont happen when they were supposed to. now i have to study again for the quiz. fuck. but whateves

the d night came. meaning yesternight. first they said its gonna be pavalion, then said its gonna be sac. then at the last moment, they said its gonna happen in pavalion. i said damn this management fucking sucks. the night started and it was alright, going in and out with english and regional songs in between.

i was waiting for our setlist to update on the whatsapp group, but somehow they wanted to save the best for the last lol. even tanay said he did not know when was our song. i drank like two drinks alone. a zero pepsi then a gatorade. i was so thirsty and so fucking sweaty, dawg. it was like 25 degrees but the amount of people being at a small place made it hot. plus i was in a full adidas drip so theres that.

i was a lil anxious, cause like, damn no one here truly knows me and this was about to be my first performance. my roomies who said my snippet sucked, i was about to prove them wrong i guess. then our song came. and i SPAZZED IT. FUCKING NAILED IT. fucking awesome. they said hype it up and do some magic, and i walked tf down the stage, and they started to shout even louder. the rap was so smooth. the breath control was nice and it felt awesome doing it. or thats whats i think. cause i was still a lil bit nervous. about what people are gonna think about me. first kaustabh said that hold the mic close, dont worry about the quality as the mixer will manage it. just make the words clear. then i wanted a wireless mic so they could not arrange it but later then they gave me. then i hyped the crowd right there. it was fucking fire. then i went at my first perfectly. perfect coming down the stairs and doing my verse and going back up. the whole thing feels like a dream. people congratulating me and hugging me like crazy. did not expect this ofc.

my friends even said i killed it. the same ones who were shitting on me. it was so good. they said that i was a performer lol. brodie this was my first ever performance ever lol. like fuck. thanks deepak for the hat. it made me gain confidence. thanks to my sister, for encouraging and embarassing me lol. thanks to jeet, that nigga called me just before my verse, but could not even understand what the fuck i was saying cause i was so hyped. so he just gave me wishes and cut the call. thanks to this nigga fr.

part 2 ig

[beels-burger-babe]

Sister's Keeper pt 6

***I have been WAITING for this one! Oh I am so excited. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I do! Thank you all for your patience and support of this series! I love you guys ❤️***

Summary: MC wasn’t pleased about being forced out of their home and into the Devildom for this so-called exchange program, however, they were pissed that their little sister Harper was brought with them. MC wants nothing more than to make sure their sister stays alive and safe while in the Devildom, but first they need to figure out why these Demon bastards won’t stop gawking at her.

Previous Part, Series Masterlist, Next Part

Amber eyes glared straight into yours from under a deep purple fringe.

Thin lips pulled back into a snarl revealing sharp, pointed fangs.

You could feel your palms line with sweat even as you glared back at him.

"Let the show begin!" Asmodeus cheered as he pranced between the two of you in mini denim shorts and tied-up, plaid blouse, as though this was a car drag race and not a competition to see who the biggest nerd was.

You allowed your eyes to skim across the crowd. Mammon and Satan were standing by Harper's side — forcibly equipped with glowsticks and cheer signs that she and Luke had made the night before. Neither of them looked particularly overjoyed about being there, but you had given neither of them a choice.

"Oh, so you finally came crawling back to us," Mammon pouted as you stepped into his room that morning.

You rolled your eyes. "I told you, it was a sleepover. Now, we don't have much time before RAD, so I need you to listen. Harper wants to go to the competition. She won't listen to me saying otherwise."

"You mean the competition that you definitely shouldn't be competing in?" You and Mammon jumped as a scowling Satan suddenly appeared at the door. "You're just going to get yourself hurt. Call it off."

You crossed your arms over your chest as you rose an eyebrow at him. "I already told you, I can't do that," not when your hands trembled just from being in a room alone with two of these demons — and these were the ones you reluctantly trusted. "I'm going to be competing. What I need you to do Mammon, is get Harper out of there the second things start to go south, and especially if Leviathan gets violent."

Mammon's head whipped over to look at you with wide blue eyes. "What!? No! I ain't just leavin' ya if Levi goes all crazy otaku!"

You narrowed your eyebrows at the behavior — For a second, you could almost believe he cared. "It wasn't a question."

Mammon growled as Satan observed you coldly. "And what about me? I assume you have plans for me in this death-wish as well, Master," he practically spat the word.

A shiver ran through him as your two gazes locked.

Satan shifted as he noticed your attention, and nodded his head in affirmation. Unconsciously, you felt your shoulders relax.

"Rules are simple!" Asmodeus continued. "The two of you will answer my wonderful questions on the series The Tale of the Seven Lords and whoever answers the most questions win! Should Leviathan win, MC will be required to attend and do all his weird nerd things for him so he doesn't have to pull all-nighters or wait in huge lineups," the demon sighed. "What a waste of a prize."

"Hey!" Levi snapped from his side of the room.

"And MC, you minx, if you win, Leviathan will form a pact with you," Asmo smirked and looked over shoulder at Levi as hushed whispers spread across the room. "See Levi? That's how you properly use bets to your advantage."

Great. The competition hadn't even started, and Asmo already had Leviathan looking like he wanted to rip someone's head off.

The strawberry blonde giggled. "Well then, we'll start with you, MC! Get ready for TSL Quiz question number one!" You held your breath, as he pulled a sleeve of cue cards out from his back pocket. "The seven lords are all brothers, and each has a specific name that people know them by. In birth order, name the older, second-oldest, and third-oldest."

A frown dug at you lips. Was ... Was he serious? That's it? Your eyes flickered over to Solomon, who had taken a seat near the back of the room and was smirking like an asshole in delighted glee.

"Corruption, then Fools, then Shadow," you answered easily. "Easy."

Leviathan rolled his eyes as his hands curled into fists by his side. "Any normie could've got that!"

Asmo squealed and threw his hands in the air. "You're absolutely correct! Way to start off the game on the right foot, MC!"

You raised an eyebrow at the excitable host. "Aren't emcees supposed to be unbiased?"

The demon giggled and blew a kiss towards you. "Oh, but I can't help being biased towards you when you're so cute!"

You nearly gagged.

Asmodeus either didn't notice or paid it no mind as he turned to Leviathan. "Alright Levi, it's your turn! Here comes question number one!" Leviathan's gaze hardened as he sharply nodded his head. "In what year did the Lord of Shadow build the Blue Palace for his imaginary mistress?"

"Year 693 of the ancient era," the otaku answered without hesitation.

But you weren't so sold. "Wait," you demanded with a clipped voice. Leviathan's stare was once again locked on you. "Why is his question so much harder than mine? That's not fair."

The room went silent — so quiet the only things you could hear were your own jack-rabbit heartbeat and your breaths. You swallowed thickly as you lifted your chin. "I ... I mean. This is a competition to see who knows the most about TSL If you're asking us questions at different levels, it proves nothing and you might as well be giving Leviathan the win now."

The Avatar of Envy smirked as he tilted his head. "Is that your way of giving up? Tossing in the towel already normie?"

You scoffed, "Hardly. I don't want your pact through a stupid trick like you made me do to Mammon before I knew any better," said demon blushed in recollection. "I want to earn it," it was your turn to smirk this time. "Unless you're scared that I'll beat you if put at the same level?"

Maybe Satan was right. Maybe you did have a death wish. It certainly felt like it as Leviathan growled and whipped around to Asmodeus. "ASK THEM BETTER QUESTIONS!"

Asmodeus shrugged as he peered over at you with what could almost be described as respect glittering through his eyes. "You're funeral," oh, it certainly felt like it.

He cleared his throat as he looked back down at the cue cards. "Okay, MC. You said that last round was too easy for you, so let's try something new! Question two! The Lord of Flies loves to eat cursed goat tartare sandwiches with cheese," you could hear someone's stomach growl in the audience. "But there is one, and only one, instance where he doesn't eat it. Why?"

You took a deep breath as you racked your brain — doing your best to ignore Leviathan's smug expression across the room. The now-familiar buzz of magic spread across your skull.

"So what is this again?" you asked Solomon as you frowned at the pale green vial he handed you.

The wizard grinned while arranging pillows in front of the television. "It's a memory retention potion! If you drink it now, it'll ensure that you will remember everything that we're about to watch plus anything that Simeon will tell you."

Your frown deepened. "Isn't that cheating?"

Solomon paused for a moment before glancing back you with a curious expression. "Would that be a problem?"

You huffed and tossed the vial back to him. "I'm a lot things, but I'm not a cheater. I like to do things on my own."

A bubble of irritation swelled within you as the wizard cackled. "Oh, believe me dear, I've noticed," he took your hands into his own and pressed the vial into your palm. "You're indepent. You don't trust others. You're used to only working alone because you've never had anyone else," your breath hitched as he leaned in close to you. "This isn't cheating. It's putting you at an equal playing field. It's not you asking for help. It's me giving it to you."

You ripped your hands from his, the vial still in your grasp, even as a faint blush dusted your cheeks. "Don't act like you know me."

Solomon chuckled, his silver eyes flashing victoriously as you downed the potion. "As you wish."

"He didn't eat it because the Grand King's mage, who is well known for inedible cooking, made it. Even he couldn't stomach the taste," you answered confidently and took exceptional glee as Leviathan's jaw dropped.

Asmodeus let out a genuine laugh — his entire being lighting up with pure amusement. "That's correct! Very impressive," he purred. "That was a tough one. You really know your stuff, don't you?"

Your scrunched up your nose and instinctively took a step back. "Just move onto the next question."

He let out a small sigh, now looking at you with more interest and intent than you had ever seen from him. "So demanding," with a flick of his hair, he turned back to Leviathan. "Now back to Mr. Reliable himself, Leviathan! Here comes question number two! In the Tale of the Seven Lords, volume 3, page 724, what does the Lord of Fools say in the fifth line from the top?"

You couldn't help but be irritated by the difficulty of the question in comparison to yours. They still weren't taking you seriously.

Leviathan gained an almost whimsy look on his face, as his entire demeanor changed. You made a mental note of his ability to shift so drastically. "Money is my dearest friend and closest companion. It's everything to me. The blood bonds I share with my brothers are like the weak, wispy threads of a spider in comparison."

You gritted your teeth as Asmodeus cheered him on. Of course, it was an exact match. You needed to step up your game.

The demon of lust turned to with that ever-present, stupid smile on his face. "Final round, babe. You think you got this?" He loudly laughed as you glared at him. "Alright, alright. Calm down, tiger. Question three. Regarding the fifth brother, Lord of Lechery, who does he love more than anyone else?"

To most the answer would seem obvious. But after a conversation with Simeon about some of the flaws you had noticed in the characters, you knew better.

"Most would say, himself," you began, catching everyone's attention. "But the truth is that he loves no one. He loves his appearance, but the Lord of Lechery doesn't even know who he is until he meets Henry. And that's when he finally begins to experience true love for the first time. So the real answer, is Henry."

Something in Asmodeus's flawless expression cracked, if only for second, at your words. His glossed lips were parted, but no words came from them.

An impatient grumble of frustration came from the other side of the room. "Come on!" Levi whined. "Hurry up, it's my turn!"

Asmodeus shook his head, a faint blush painting his cheeks as he looked at you and cleared his throat. "A beautiful interpretation and one that is correct," he finished softly. He peered at you deeply, as though you were a creature he was trying to dissect before turning his attention back to Leviathan. "Final question Levi, if you get this, we'll have to go into final death and pull out the big guns to see who really is the biggest nerd," he looked down at the cards once more. "Why did the Lord of Emptiness try to kill Henry even after all the other lords befriended him?"

Your blood froze as Leviathan let out a near-psychopathic cackle - his orange eyes alight with mania. This was it. "That's your big tough question?! HA! This is easy! Everyone knows that he killed Henry because he hated people like him and wanted to slaughter all of them!"

Your heart stopped as you stared at Levi with wide eyes.

That ...

"That's wrong," you whispered.

The crazed laughter suddenly stopped. The air felt heavy around you with the pressure of a thousand stares. Leviathan took two steps towards you. "What did you say?" He hissed — phantom pains shot through your wrist once more.

You felt your legs tremble lightly beneath you, even as you stood your ground. "You're wrong," you spoke firmly. "He didn't kill Henry because he hated him or because he wanted them all gone. He's the Lord of Emptiness," you emphasized. "He's been empty since the death of his sister. He didn't hate Henry or people like them, he used to love them. But because of his sister's death, he couldn't process that. The real reason why he tried to kill Henry is that he wanted revenge for his sister and to fill the emptiness inside him."

Not a word was spoken. Not breath taken.

Amber eyes glared straight into yours from under a deep purple fringe.

Thin lips pulled back into a snarl revealing sharp, pointed fangs.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

"They're telling the truth!" Diavolo spoke with pride from the audience. "MC is correct! What a twist!"

Silently, everyone's faze turned back to you. You gulped nervously as you widened your stance and readied yourself for the inevitable.

Asmodeus's stunned expression slowly shifted into a radiant smile. "That settles it then! The person with the most TSL knowledge is -"

"I won't stand for this!" Leviathan growled. The shadows of the room almost seemed to cling to him as his chest heaved in pure rage. He slowly began stalking towards you. "All you did was stay up one night and marathon the DVDs! You haven't even read the books! The idea that YOU could be a bigger TSL fan than ME, is ... it's..." he frantically looked around, searching for the answer.

Mammon held tightly onto a shaking Harper. "Woah, calm down there, Levi," he called out nervously — cautiously eyeing the tension between the two of you. Satan pressed his lips into tight line.

"NO!" The otaku shrieked — a sound like nails on a chalkboard that you couldn't help but wince at. "I WON'T STAND FOR THIS!"

You couldn't help but gasp in fear as Leviathan split into his demon form and began to charge toward you. "Mammon! GO!" You called out as you held up your arms in defense, doing your best to ignore the sounds of your sister screaming as the white-haired demon dragged her away.

That was all you managed to get out before you were tackled to the ground, your head bouncing pathetically off the solid marble with a loud CRACK. You let out a sharp cry as you felt the gangly demon latch himself on top of you — his claws sinking into your shoulders.

But just as fast as he was on you, a loud roar ripped through the air and he was torn off of you.

You opened your eyes to see Satan snarling over you as Lucifer restrained the struggling Leviathan. You winced as you sat up and felt something warm trickle down the back of your neck. "Thanks," you grunted.

Satan didn't dare glance back at you. "Just following orders. Sorry I wasn't fast enough."

Your breath caught as you finally realized that Lucifer and Satan were in their own demon forms as well. "You're out of control, Levi," Lucifer scolded as he held the demon by the scruff of his neck. "Go back to your room and cool off."

The envious demon's deadly gaze flickered between you and his elder brother and he found himself once more. 

Diavolo stood from his throne in the back of the room. "Levithan? You heard what he said. Enough," you couldn't help but shiver at the utter power in his voice alone. Lucifer set Leviathan back on his feet as the younger demon nodded. 

"Wait," you croaked as you stumbled back on your own two feet. "We ... We had a deal," you spat as you began to slowly walk towards him. 

Satan reached out to grab your arm, "MC-" you weakly slapped away his hands and continued forward. 

Lucifer held his own arm out in front of his brother — ready to interfere if needed as you approached. 

You had never fallen victim to such hatred as you had looking into Leviathan's eyes in that moment. 

"As per the deal, you lost," you snatched his hand into your own trembling grip and clung onto it with all your might as you pulled him closer to you. "I bind thee to myself and my command, you, Leviathan, third born of the Seven Lords, Avatar of Envy," the second you felt his magic course you — a disgusting sludge that burned slowly like magma across your skin before searing into your inner wrist — you dropped his hand. Cold relief finally washed over you.

Lucifer lowered his arm, cautiously eyeing the two of you. 

He gave you an opening. 

You reared your fist back and relished in the feeling of your knuckles colliding with the demon's nose. You bared your teeth in a bloody, feral grin as he went tumbling to the ground. "Leviathan, you sore losing bastard, you will not ever hurt me again." 

Lucifer scowled at you as he crossed his arms over his chest. "That was unnecessary."

Feeling particularly done with the day, you spat a mouth full of blood onto his shoes and flipped him off. 

Without another word, you turned on your heel, facing a wide-eyed Satan and began to walk away.

Or tried. 

You made it two steps before your legs gave out beneath you. The last thing you heard before the world turned black was someone calling out your name.

***

You awoke to warmth. To sniffles. To a weight curled up into your side.

It was all so achingly familiar that, for a second, you were able to ignore the splitting migraine you had, and just turned over to curl up around Harper.

"MC?!" Harper cried you hugged her tightly. "Y-You're awake! I was so scared! Satan said you needed to sleep, but your clothes were all red a-and you wouldn't wake up, a-a-and-"

You didn't say anything in response. There wasn't much you could say. Instead, you just held your sister as close as you could and buried your face in her hair. 

Each of her sobs felt like a knife straight through your heart knowing that you were the cause of them this time and not -

You shook you head, wincing as you did, to brush off the ghosts of your past.

"I'm here," you murmured quietly. Harper only held you tighter. "I'm not going anywhere. I promised, remember?" You smiled lightly as you felt a faint nod against your chest. You lightly kissed the top of her head. "You remember what I told you the day that social worker tried to take you when Mom and Dad left?"

Harper sniffled as she finally pulled away and wiped at her tear-filled eyes. "Y-You said that even if we're split apart a-a-and you weren't around that you would be f-fighting to get back to me. That we- we would always find our way back to each other."

"Exactly," you whispered. "I'm sorry I scared you, cupcake. But I'm okay. Just a little hurt. And even if I was taken away, or needed to go somewhere for a bit, I will always, always, come back to you. Okay?"

Harper nodded as she launched herself against your chest once more. You did everything you could to hold back a yelp from the flare of pain that shot through you. 

You took a moment to glance around the room and finally noticed that you were alone. "Where's Mammon and Satan?"

Tiny fists curled tightly against your uniform in response. "No more demons allowed in our room. They hurt you."

You smiled as you ran a hand through Harper's hair, wondering what kind of hell she must have given them to actually get them to leave. "That sounds like a good plan to me," as you lifted your hand to caress her head once more, a brilliant orange mark now branded into your wrist caught your eye. 

A stone sunk into your stomach as you sighed. 

Three down. Three to go. 

This better be fucking worth it.

*** This ended up MUCH longer than I anticipated but MAN did it feel good to finally get this out! Thank you all so much for the love and support and just being here. You're all amazing and I can't wait to hear your guys' thoughts on this one! ***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @greenlit-mess @k1ngan0n @chirikoheina @tanspostsblog @kadythethief @fun-ghoul-neela @l0v3r666 @siniy606 @porgs-are-space-puffins @nebulosalumine @attackonhoseok @darkfaethedestroyer @amaya-writes @nexxy-is-lonely @sutsuxan @hobin-gnoblin @idiotic-canadian @cubandevil04 @dweeb-central @keqingsfavbestie @marvelous-maniac @stupidwingboy @bestblob @gallantys

[striveattemptfail]

Football Vs. Husband: Which Do You Know Better? | Zimbits ft. Tater, G, 1.8k

Summary: Bitty gets quizzed on two of his favourite things: Jack and...... football?

Based on the Buzzfeed video of the same name. Takes place sometime in Sept-Oct 2019. Minor spoilers for 4.25 Faber and 4.26 Check, Please! (If you can call em spoilers LOL.)

Read on Ao3

A/N: Fun fact: At the time I wrote this (2017), it was set in the “future” (2019), but now that year is literally the past for us hahahahahahskfjasldfjasldfjklaskdfj. In the fic summary I say “minor spoilers” because what I originally wrote as wish fulfillment in 2017 became canon in 2020.

Anyway, this is a near verbatim copy of Ned Fulmer getting quizzed on his wife vs football—like fr some of the dialogue is exactly the same LOL. Thanks to @smol0ctopus​ for the beta and the omg stream! please server for advice!<3 Any other mistakes are mine.

YouTube transcript of Football Vs. Husband (Check, Please! #151: A Falconers Special!) [Descriptive captions by biittyyreciipees, airhockeycanbeviolent, and f4lcsboy: Check, Please! Captioning Team]

Eric Hey, y’all! Didja miss me? Because I sure did miss you! Now, today’s video is a lil special. Y’all’ll see that I’ve got myself some lovely guests here from Providence’s own Falconers team. (gestures towards Jack and Tater) Say hi guys!

Tater (waves) Hi!

Jack (single nod, smiles) Hello.

Eric I’ve got here regular guest and my husband, Jack Zimermann, and his teammate, Alexei Mashkov—

Tater But you call me Tater!

Eric (laughs) But we call him Tater! Tater, why don’t you explain what’ll happen here today?

Tater Is collaboration with Falcs TV! We had special tournament to see if players knows their SOAPs more than favorite thing.

ONSCREEN CAPTION SOAPs = Significant Others And Partners, for all y’all non-hockey fans out there! Click here (highlighted annotation inserted) to watch the tournament on the Falconer’s official website or check this video’s description!

Eric I had me such a great time over on Falcs TV with Jack that I wanted to share the fun with y’all here!

Tater (nods) Zimmboni crush everyone in tournament!

ONSCREEN CAPTION “Zimmboni” is Jack’s hockey nickname, like “Tater” is for Alexei. Everyone on the team has one! In fact, I have one too: Bitty! But Alexei likes to call me “B”.

Jack (shrugs, gives small smile) I know history. I know my husband.

Eric (laughs, blushes)

Tater Now, is time to see if B know Zimmboni just as much!

Eric I’m feelin’ pretty confident that I do. What do you think, sweetpea?

Jack I think Bits knows me better than myself, to be honest.

Eric Jack! (blushing again)

Tater Yes, yes, is very cute! But I’m want to ask questions now, yes?

Eric (turns to camera) Now, I tried to get ‘em to quiz me on baking—because y’all and your mama know that I love it—but Jack here insisted that I get asked about football instead.

Jack Baking’s too easy. I figured you’d appreciate the challenge. You know a lot about American football, eh?

Eric (rolls eyes) “American football”—I know y’all in Canada just call it football too! Now, I’d argue, but that’ll take up the rest of this video, so I guess it’s time to get to the quiz!

Tater Yes!

(video transition with dramatic music)

Tater (holds up stack of cards in hands) Here, I’m hold questions about NFL and college football, plus questions about Zimmboni for B to answer. Like during Falcs’ tournament, I’m ask SOAP about their favorite subject first, then ask about their partner. B, is ready?

Eric As I’ll ever be!

Jack Gonna crush it, Bits.

Eric Let’s hope so, sweetheart.

Tater Will be good, B, I’m sure! Question one, name five offensive positions in the NFL.

Eric Lord, how easy—quarterback, running back, wide receiver, offensive tackle, tight end.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater See, B! You be fine! Name five of Zimmboni’s favourite foods.

Eric Ooh, alright. So PB&J sandwiches, chicken tenders... scrambled eggs, uh, cassoulet... (Caption Note: French food pronunciation is not butchered, because food)

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 4/5

Tater One more, B.

Eric Hm, let’s see—

Tater (snickers) Remember this easiest question in stack.

Eric Oh, hush, you.

Jack Bits? Maybe a dessert?

Eric (hits head with base of palm) Oh, goodness me, right! Maple sugar crusted apple pie.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater (nods) Yes. Okay, how many minutes in football quarter?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Quarters in the NFL and NCAA football are 15 minutes.

Eric 15 minutes.

Tater How long is Zimmboni’s pre-game ritual?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 15 minutes max. Like all athletes, hockey players have specific rituals before their games.

Eric About thirty minutes?

Tater (whooping laughter) 15 minutes, max.

Jack (laughs)

Eric (gasps, shakes head) That is not true, that can not be true! Honey, I’ve seen you take 15 minutes making your pre-game PBJ sandwiches. (scoffs)

Jack (makes a face)

Tater Sorry, B. Must give big zero for that question.

Eric (rolls eyes) Hmph!

Tater B, you get 20 seconds—name as many starting quarterbacks in the NFL as possible. Ready, set, go!

Eric Matt Ryan, Aaron Rodgers, Josh Allen, Philip Rivers, Tom Brady—ugh—Baker Mayfield, Derek Carr, Carson Palmer.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 8

Tater Have 10 seconds, name as many as Zimmboni’s lineys when he finally move to first line.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Lineys = Hockey linemates. Fun fact: Jack moved from third to first line during his first season in the Falcs back in 2015!

Eric (opens mouth)

Tater But! Must name them by nickname!

Eric (single nod, determined expression)

Tater Okay? Ready, set, go!

Eric Alright so excluding Jack, that’ll be you, Tater, then we got Marty, Thirdy, Guy, and Snowy if you count the goalies!

Tater (solemnly nods) Always count goalies!

Eric Then that’s five for five. Gettin’ a lil easy there!

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater Haha! Okay, who are on cover of Sports Illustrated for this season’s NFL and college previews?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Jarvis Landry and Odell Beckham Jr. were on the cover for the NFL preview. Trevor Lawrence was on the cover for the college preview.

Eric Oh, Coach and I were just talkin’ about this! I know the NFL preview was Odell Beckham Jr. and Jarvis Landry, but the college preview... (brief pause, placing chin on fist contemplatively) I think it’s Trevor Lawrence?

Tater Correct! What magazine cover did Zimmboni appear on first?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Trick question! Jack’s first ever appearance on a magazine cover was not as a hockey player. He first appeared on People Magazine as a baby with his parents, Robert “Bad bob” Zimmermann and Alicia Zimmermann.

Eric Can I ask a question?

Tater ...no.

Eric Well, shoot, alright. If you mean his first cover as an athlete, I’ll say Sports Illustrated, but if you mean his first one ever I think it’s People Magazine when he was a baby.

Tater (censored beep) Wow!

Jack (raises eyebrows) You remember that?

Eric Well, you told me! And Alicia did show me when we visited for Christmas one year. (smug smirk)

Jack (covers face in hand, exasperated sigh) Of course she did.

Tater Next question! How many Super Bowl rings does Tom Brady have?

Eric Oh goodness. I think it’s five?

Tater Six!

Eric What?

Tater Is six!

Eric (groans) Of course it’s six. Whatever, it’s fine, I try not to think about Tom Brady anyway. I don’t mind getting this one wrong. In fact, I’m kinda glad because I certainly don’t care for the man. Like, who—

Jack Bits. We’re in the middle of a game right now?

Eric (blushes) Oh, right.

Tater It’s alright, B, haha. But we move on with game now, yes? (single nod) Now, how many rings Zimmboni normally wear?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1.

Eric One! He usually just wears his wedding ring, but today he’s got his 2016 Stanley ring! Wanna show it off, honey?

Jack (sheepishly holds up hands to show the two rings)

ONSCREEN CAPTION Fun fact: The team who wins the Stanley Cup get matching rings. Jack got his first one when the Falcs won the Cup in 2016!

Tater Is tough one now: How many times have the Atlanta Falcons made the playoffs?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 14.

Eric (sighs) Oh Lordy, that's hard. Alright, so by the time I was born they were at five so— (voice continues in fast forward) —they did in ‘98, then... ‘02? After was 2004, not 2005, or ‘06... so the next one was 2008. Then there was that streak from 2010 to 2012. Then the next one was 2016, and then ‘17. Not ‘18 and ‘19. So that’s... (begins to count on fingers)

Tater (back to regular speed, looking impressed) You have answer, B?

Eric I'm gonna go with fourteen as of this year.

Tater (censored beep)!!!

Eric (laughs)

Jack (censored beep), Bittle.

Tater Is amazing! You have both number and years!

Eric I’m Southern, and my daddy’s a football coach. (shrugs) Can’t help it!

Jack (chuckles) This is why I wanted you to answer stuff about the football instead of baking.

Eric (rolls eyes, swats Jack’s arm) Oh, this boy.

Tater Next question! What is most number of times Zimmboni fight in one season?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 3 fights.

Eric Ooh, shoot. I should know this one too, huh? Okay, so his first season he only got in one fight— (voice continues in fast forward) —and second season was also one, I think. After that, uhh, I think he finally got in two. Last year was three maybe? And this season hasn’t even started. But last year? Was it three? I don’t quite—hm.

Tater (back to regular speed) Your answer, B?

Eric I’m gonna go with three fights for last season.

Tater (shaking his head)

Jack What did I say?

Tater (censored beep) Is correct. (huffs) What year did Falcons join the NFL?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1965.

Eric Uhhh, oh goodness, I know Coach told me this at some point... (pause) I think it was 1965?

Tater Correct! What year Zimmboni first try skating?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1992. Fun fact: Bad Bob had Jack skating as soon as Jack could walk!

Eric Skating, huh? ‘Cause I’ll bet the son of Bad Bob tried on his first skates before he even turned one, huh? (smiles cheekily)

Jack (nudges with elbow, gives Eric a small smile) Not the question.

Eric Oh alright, not the question. Hmm, I know it was before you turned three so, I’ll say... (drawling out answer) nineteen-ninety... two?

Tater (throws cards out of hand, shaking his head) Is correct again!

Eric Oh my god!

(high pitched sound as Eric fist pumps the air)

Jack (laughs, bringing an arm around Eric before kissing his cheek)

Tater B, I'm frustrate to say you know Zimmboni as much as you know football.

ONSCREEN CAPTION FINAL SCORE: Football = 6, Husband = 6. T I E ! ! !

Jack Knew it. Told you so, Bits.

Eric That sounds like a chirp, and I will not have that on my vlog, Mr. Zimmermann. So with that, I guess we’re done! (looks towards camera, claps once) Well, that about does it for today’s video! Thank you so much to my special guests, Providence Falconers’ Jack Zimermann and Alexei Mashkov, for joining me today. (gestures towards Jack and Tater)

Tater (nods with a wide smile) Thanks for having us, B!

Jack (smiles and nods) Always great to be here.

Eric Be sure to check out the Falcs TV videos too! Link in the description or right over here! (points to space, highlighted annotation inserted) And thanks for tuning in! Next week, I’ll have a new video for y’all on the best ways to add protein to your favourite sandwiches.

(Eric, Jack, and Tater wave at the camera)

Eric Bye, y’all! See ya next time!

(More notes on Ao3.)

[grapesodatozier]

happy trailer day!! here are some soft madwheeler hcs 💕 (this got long, so most of it is under the cut) (fr this is basically a fic in bullet format lol)

the party is in their junior year of high school, which means they’re learning physics

which means the boys are in heaven

but max is in hell

(el isn’t in the same classes as them bc she still has catching up to do)

will, lucas, and dustin all have physics together with mr clarke, but mike and max end up in another class with another teacher

mike and max are on good terms at this point, but they’re still not super close. still, they sit next to each other on the first day without questioning it, and then those are their seats for the rest of the year

they mostly make small talk the first couple of days, but then max comes into class with a huge smile on her face bc the funniest thing happened in art class and she has to tell someone about it

and mike is right there, and curious about what’s so funny, so max tells him the story, sounds effects and hand motions and all

she doesn’t notice, but mike is listening to her with undivided attention, his eyes soft and the ghost of a smile on his lips

they start actually talking after that

cue to their first quiz

max doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s been struggling in the class

when the teacher passes mike his quiz back face up and murmurs a “well done, mr wheeler” right before she passes max’s back face down, she can already feel the shame heating up her cheeks and settling in her stomach

she peeks at her grade and finds a 35/50 at the top of the page, right above a big red C-

she crumples up the quiz and shoves it in her bag despite the fact that the class spends the next 20 minutes going over the quiz

max can feel mike looking at her

one glance at his quiz explains why he’s paying attention to her and not the teacher: 52/50. he even got the extra credit right.

max rolls her eyes and slumps further in her seat, her arms crossed as she pointedly avoids meeting mikes eyes. she bets their wide and brown and full of pity she doesn’t want or need

they’ve fallen into the habit of chatting a bit after class and leaving together, but max leaves without a word and doesn’t bother to wait for him

unfortunately, she only has one period of reprieve before she has to see him at lunch again

she gets there before him, which turns out to not be in her favor as he sits right next to her when he arrives with el

he gets a few weird looks from the others, bc that’s where el usually sits, but el just shrugs and takes mike’s usual place next to lucas

max has had an hour to cool down, so she gives mike a smile and congratulates him on being nerd

mike gives her a small smile before getting right to the point

he leans in and says it softly so that the others won’t hear, and max is grateful for that, but now he’s so close that she can smell the laundry detergent sticking to his clothes, she can feel his shoulder bump against hers, and it makes her heart beat a mile a minute

“why didn’t you tell me that there was some stuff you didn’t get?” he asks, his voice soft and genuinely confused “I can help you if you want”

and max feels embarrassed and indignant and almost too proud to accept the offer

but mikes eyes are wide and brown, and they’re soft, and what max finds in them is closer to affection and encouragement than pity

and also he’s giving her an excuse to spend time with him, something she’s been looking for (not that she’d ever admit that - she’s barely admitted it to herself)

“okay, yeah, if I’m feeling lost I’ll ask you about it. thanks.”

they smile at each other softly and join the group conversation, but max’s heart is beating too loudly for her to hear much

a week later and max admits defeat

physics ends and max feels about ready to cry

“mike?” she calls gently across the aisle, hating how her voice breaks. and she knows mike noticed it, bc he’s giving her his soft eyes™️ that make her want to melt but also punch him, but she manages to swallow back her stubborn pride and tell him, “I didn’t get any of that”

she tries to say it with a laugh, but her voice is choked up

“yeah this unit is confusing” he agrees, and max can’t believe how kind his smile is. “do you wanna work on the homework together? we can go to my house after school if you want”

max can’t help but smile at how eager mike is to help other people

“yeah, sounds good.” then, after mike smiles and finishes packing up his bag, max adds on a “thanks”

“it’s no problem” mike assures her

max is suddenly regretting saying yes bc if mike looks at her like that the whole time she’s gonna have a problem paying attention during their tutoring session

it’s all she can think about for the rest of the day, which nearly makes her gag at herself, but she can’t help it

butterflies erupt in her stomach when she sees him after school at the bike rack

just as mike is getting on his bike at the end of the day, max rides past him on her board and shouts at him that she’ll race him to his house

the way he shouts after her warning her about the giant hill on the way has her both rolling her eyes and smiling; she’s been down that hill hundreds of times, but it’s still sweet that he’d want her to be safe

they get to mikes house at pretty much the same time, so they have a foot race to the basement door - max wins, but her victory cry dies on her lips when she turns to see mike right next to her, leaning on the house, smiling at her as he catches his breath

“you got a head start” he accuses her, but there’s a smile on his face and no real hear behind his words

“you keep telling yourself that” she grins as she pushes the door open, trying to ignore how nice mikes hair looks when it’s wind blown

they get down to business pretty much immediately, much to max’s chagrin

they start out just doing the homework side by side, the textbook open in front of them on the table, surrounded by capri sun pouches, chips, and cookies

max can’t help but notice how much farther ahead mike is than her

the she gets stuck on a problem for so long that when she throws herself back into the couch in frustration she notices mikes been waiting for her so he could turn the page and go onto more problems

“you don’t have to wait up for me if I’m slowing you down” max grumbles

mike completed ignores that offer. “which one are you stuck on?”

max shows him, and he walks her through it. his patience melts her heart, calms her down. but then the next problem is even harder, and with her anger quelled now she just gets sad that she doesn’t understand what mike is trying to explain to her

she can feel the tears stinging in her eyes, and she does her best to hold them back, but then her vision is blurring and she hears the tell tale sound of a tear hitting loose leaf

she shoves her binder away and furiously wipes her eyes, wondering if it’s more embarrassing to leave or stay

she freezes when mike puts his arm around her. he’s never done that with her before, but it feels so natural, max wants to melt into it so bad

“hey,” mike says, in the gentlest voice max has ever heard, “it’s okay, we’ll get it eventually.” max nods, but she still doesn’t look at him

he starts rubbing little soothing circles on her shoulder with his thumb, a small gesture that has max’s heart kicking into over drive

“do you wanna take a break?”

max wants to say no. mike clearly didn’t need a break, why did she need one? but she is pretty drained, so she nods again

“can you teach me how to skate?”

that surprises max into finally looking at him

“what?”

“well, I’ve been wanting to learn, and it’s gonna get too cold to learn soon, so”

“you know what? sure, I’d like to see you make a fool of yourself”

“wow, thanks”

and max was kinda joking, but mike truly is terrible

like, she knew he would be, but he’s genuinely shaking even as he’s just stepping onto the skateboard

he reaches out for her instinctively, and she’s immediately there to support him

his grip on her arms is so tight, and she can feel his hands shaking as he gives her a small, bashful smile that makes her heart melt

“you need me to walk you down the street?” she asks, only half teasing

mike rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t leave his lips as he says back, “are you actually gonna teach me or are you just gonna make fun of me?”

“can’t I do both?”

and max loves this, she loves this banter that’s blossomed between them in recent weeks, she loves that she knows it’ll make mike smile

she drags him around for a bit, first clinging to both of his arms and then gradually shifting to holding his hands, a gesture that had her blushing even harder. his hands were a little clammy, but she liked how tightly they gripped hers, she liked how they were bigger than her own. she liked the freckles on them.

eventually she insisted that he try pushing off a few times without her. he hesitantly agreed, on the condition that she stay close

max really thought he’d do better, but after pushing off for the second time he falters, loses his balance, and the board flies out from under his feet

max is at his side in an instant, kneeling over him to make sure he’s okay

he props himself up on his elbow and checks his scraped up palm and mutters a quiet “shit”

“does it hurt?” max hold his wrist gently, the contact sending electricity through her as she feels his pulse under her thumb

“I mean yeah, but I’ll probably live”

she finds that their faces are level, and closer than she’d realized

“guess you still need me to hold your hand” she jokes, her heart racing

“yeah” mike smiles, and the autumn sun is setting, bathing his skin in golden light and bringing out the red highlights in his dark hair. he takes max’s breath away as he says, “you make it look so easy” with that soft smile again

“yeah, well,” max scoffs. she tucks her hair behind her ear, looks down. “you get used to it, it’s really not that impressive”

“I think it is”

and max really wishes he’d stop looking at her like that, stop making her stomach flutter like that

he continues: “I think it’s really cool. especially now that I know how hard it is”

“I think that might just be you”

they laugh it off and go inside to clean mikes hand

“thanks,” he smiles once it’s bandaged. “and thanks for teaching me... or trying to at least”

max giggles “hey, you’re teaching my sorry ass physics, i owe you one”

mike shakes his head and smiles at her like she’s a sunrise “no you don’t, I like helping you”

max scoffs and blushes and tries to walk away, but mike catches her gently by the wrist

“you know you’re really smart, right?”

max doesn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully mike senses that and keeps going

“and I really do think it’s cool how good you are at skateboarding, and... I’m glad we’re talking more now”

max melts

“so am I”

“and I actually think you’re really funny” he grins

“oh, do you?” max beams. “you’re never gonna love that down”

and now mike is smiling big too, and he says “I think I’m okay with that”

and somehow they’ve drifted closer together, and max is so trained on mikes smile, on how soft and pink his lips look that it takes her a moment to realize how intently mike is looking at her

then their eyes meet, and it’s like that both get it. he caresses her face, and she lets him, leaning into it and placing her hands on his sides

then their lips are meeting, and they’re kissing, and max’s heart is going wild

his lips are just as soft as she imagined, and he’s so gentle with her, almost shy

they’re both smiling as they pull back

“so you know how you’re smart and cool and funny?” mike asks, his arms slipping around max’s waist, making her blush

“you may have mentioned it” she grins

“you’re also really beautiful”

max hides her face in his shoulder, blush creeping over her as she giggles “and you are ridiculously cheesy” but after a moment she meets his eye and adds with a smile “but you’re also smart and cute, and sometimes even funny”

“not cool?”

“never cool” they both giggle and kiss again, smiling into it. “you’re the cutest nerd ive ever met, though. definitely the cutest tutor I’ve ever had”

mike grins regretfully, almost apologetically: “speaking of which...”

max pouts in protest and presses light, slow kisses to mikes lips

“okay, that’s a compelling argument” mike concedes with a grin

they do get their homework done soon after tho, and once it’s done they reward themselves with pizza and more kisses

[arturobain98-blog]

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