#or fuck up since ive never done em before

[chronal-anomaly]

Leg one done, leg two tomorrow

Moving but hard mode

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[writingoddess1125]

HI I LOVE UR EVERYTHING AND PAPA BUGGY WAS SO CUTE AND IF YOU CAN DO ONE WHERE HE HAS BABY FEVER PLEASE 🙏🙏 I'M ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏 (I love ur work it's so cute and sad, funny)

Lucky Winner to get Part 2!!

Fever pt. 2

Buggy x Femreader + Buggy Twins

Also PSA everyone Wrap it before you tap it!

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Check out the rest of the Old Men series

"YOURE PREGNANT!!"

Buggy shouted in total joy, Jumping around the room as his body looked almost like an accordion at his odd movements- you sitting there in total shock.

You'd expected that the twins would be your first and last, not that you would accidently get pregnant again especially by the same idiot who had done it by accident the first time.

Your hands went over your face as the reality of 9 months of this set in- For Fuck sakes... You could t help but giggle and hug Buggy there in the doctors office, Both happy and in total shock by this all.

After this things moved all too quickly it seemed. Of course you two told the boys who had been both excited and apprehensive- Like most kids worried the new baby would replace them or take the father they just gained from them, which had to be explained wasn't the case and you and Buggy created a gameplan to help the biys adjust. Then came the crew, who decided to have a 3 day celebration and get absolutely shit faced- Buggy included.

Why you were indeed happy, incredibly happy infant you knew what was about to come. HORRIBLE PREGNANCY SYMPTOMS! WONDERFUL-

Your first trimester was filled with morning sickness, Poor Buggy being as kind as possible as he helped clean you up and find foods that wouldn't make you puke your guts out. The twins even doing their part to find nice teas and things that smelled nice for you to also not throw up.

During this time Buggy bought so much stuff- Most likely boosting the economy of the village single handedly as he had the nursery built in the cabin and on the ship, You and the boys having a fun few weeks decorating both areas.

By your second trimester the hormones kicked in horribly, that and cramps. However that's when something magical happened as well-

Buggy and you were laying on the bed, both of you quite exhausted. Buggy was tired from dealing with the twins all day while you were tired from the baby and fatigue that was hitting you like a fleet. Since the start of your second trimester when your baby bump had become far more noticable Buggy always has his hand somewhere on your stomach rubbing the growing bump.

"I need to find a better way of tiring them out..." Buggy grumbled, You nodding in agreement leaned against the man and truthfully you both without single damns. Buggy in some pink boxers while you leaned against his naked chest in a large shirt rolled up over your stomach and underwear.

"They are still worried- Maybe take them out sailing or something? I'm sure they would enjoy tha- Oof!" You yelp as a sudden jolt hit you, clearly aimed right under Buggys palm which make both of you jump in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" He questioned as he pulled his palm away from you quickly and looked at your stomach. You shifting and rubbing the exposed skin smiling at him.

"They kicked, ive been feeling 'em move but not kick yet. Here I'm sure they will give you another little kick" You say calmly. Buggy sitting infront of you quickly and placing his palms back on your skin, You shifting his palms to the perfect spot before another jolt ran through you and Buggy giggled like a child at this.

"Thats so weird feeling!"

His eyes sparkled at this as he sat infront of you rubbing your stomach and feeling his child move under his palm and occasionally kick. It was a truly precious moment for the both of you.

As for the final trimester... Pregnancy was never too kind to anyone- Especially you. It wasn't with the twins and it sure wasn't now-

Leaned against the counter you glared hard at Buggy- 60 damn days you're ass! Try 8 fucking months trapped in this God forsaken cabin with your mentally unstable partner, two 12 year old boys and your bladder being utterly destroyed by little feet.

Oh and of course- THE GOD DAMN CREW THAY DECIDED THAT THEY WANTED TO STAY WITH THEIR FEARLESS CAPTIAN TILL THE 'VACATION' WAS OVER!

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Buggy questioned feeling the heat of your glare on his skin.

"I-..." You wanted to start Biting his head off but truthfully he had done nothing, you figured you were just emotional to the max at this point and the cramping didn't help.

"...I'm in pain-" You admit with a sigh, Buggy setting down his drink and walking to you calmly as he looked you over like he could spot your pain.

"Your stomach looks different" He said calmly, You shooting him a warning look.

"No shit it looks-" Buggy shook his head to stop you, "No its lower I mean, I think it's best we call the doctor" He said calmly, A shot of embrassment going through you at this point. Buggy truly had been giving it his all and learned from the doctor. With a chick trip from the Doctor and Midwife they confirmed you were in labor and got you set up to give birth in the cabin, The twins being taken to the Big Top with Cabaji while they waited for their siblings arrival.

"How are you feeling?" Buggy asked, Gently rubbing your back as you smiled.

"Not to bad actually- I'm glad you're here with me.." You say softly as another contraction shot through you.

At first it was fine- You'd been through this before. So it should be shorter and less painful this time around- Yeah No. You went from fine to screaming in pain very very quickly. Buggy sitting next to you trying to comfort you and get you through it- However the last thing you wanted was him there..

Which landed Buggy outside the house awkwardly, his crew also seated on different patches of grass as they flinched at every cry and scream that echoed out from the house and into the silent garden outside. You had kicked out Buggy 20 minutes ago, clearly just in too much pain to handle him at the moment and the doctor recommending him to try to return in 30 minutes. Which he did.

Truthfully he handled it like a champ once back in, holding your hand despite feeling like you were crushing it into dust and wiping the sweat and tears from your eyes. After a seven exhausting painful hours a shrill cry cut through the air as you slacked onto the bed. The doctor happily placing a little girl on your chest, now tears of joy running down your cheeks.

The doctors starting to clean her up as you admired her, looking to Buggy who was also crying.

You held the little girl in your arms, seeing her pink little face she had your facial features and (Y/H/C) hair like you but a bright rounded cherry nose/cheeks and ocean blue eyes. She was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. You saw Buggy stare in only awe as he felt tears hit his cheeks and he smiled.

"Shes.. shes.."

Your hand reached forward, Buggy thinking it was to caress his cheek or something gentle but instead you grabbed his neck in a iron grip- He squeaking in surprise as you pull him close.

"Buggy- This is the last... do you understand? Cause if the words 'I want another child' come from your lips ever again I am going to cut your dick off and throw it into the deepest part of the ocean. Do. You. Understand. Me" You said in the softest and kindest voice Buggy had ever heard, fear going through his system as he could tell you were dead serious.. maybe it was the lack of oxygen going to his brain or still the euphoria of the moment but he swore he saw literal hell flame in yours eyes.

"Clear- Crystal Clear" He wheezed, you releasing him so he could scoop up his daughter. He genuinely looked giddy at this point as he cuddled her close to his chest, you saw the anxiety just below the surface of his face as he stared at his daughter more her nose-

"Shes beautiful" You say softly staring at her from Buggy's arms.

"I won't let her go through what I did- I want her to feel special and perfect" He admitted, your eyes softening at his vulnerability as he kissed his daughters cheek.

"Im sure they will kn- Oof!- Fuck" You hissed in pain and flinched. The doctor peaked under the blanket quickly and called over the midwife who did a quick check. You wincing in pain as Buggy stared at you panicking and holding the now fussing newborn.

"(Y/N)?!" He said softly as another groan of pain left you. The midwife and doctor conversing quickly before beginning to prepare once again.

"It seems you're still in labor- Looks like another baby" He said proudly, Your eyes widening as you look at Buggy like you were prepared to kill him. The clowns face as white as snow making his face paint look dark at the realization of 2 sets of twins kicked in.

"Holy shit-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!" You yelled as Buggy kept his daughter and rushed out quickly to show off his daughter and avoid your wrath of damning you to another set of twins.

Eventually he would return with your guys daughter and sat through another broken hand created by your labor. That night another little girl was brought in this world, the little girls being 8 hours apart and identical to her sister.

It was later decided after you had properly been cleaned up and not ready to murder Buggy their names. Buggy coming up with the names Ali and Ari respectively for his daughters.

Tag List-

@alastorhazbin @yuriwk

[msc137]

i wouldnt have been able to tell rick without evan.

ive stayed calm in a million different life-or-death situations but for some reason my hand was shaking when i went to open the garage door. so eve grabbed my hand and opened the door themself.

rick looked kinda confused when he looked up from the table and saw both of us come in. i guess it did probably seem a bit strange that they were with me, but then he just sorta shrugged and turned back to the workbench as he asked what was going on.

i hesitated for so long before i squeezed ems hand and said "i think i have a drinking problem" out loud for the first time and it felt like i was dying. it felt like i was dying.

rick dropped the screwdriver hed been holding. it wasnt that loud but i flinched anyway. he turned to look at us and i was almost offended that he seemed so surprised.

i was shaking even worse than before. i couldnt get another word out until eves thumb started moving slowly on the back of my hand.

so i told rick about how i had first started drinking. how after rick left me for the crows i couldnt stand how fucking lonely it felt. so i punched in the same code that id seen him punch in so many times and drank from his stash because it reminded me of him. i told him how ive been doing it more and more ever since then and now i drink every couple days and it just makes everything worse every time. and by the end i was crying and evans grip on me was even tighter than before.

ricks face had crumbled as i was talking. when i finished he pulled me into a hug.

i hugged him back with one hand because i was still holding evan with the other. and his voice was shaking like mine when he said, "god, morty, im so sorry."

ive heard him apologize before but never like that. he said hed change the code to the stash. that he was sorry hed never noticed. that he was sorry hed done this to me. that he wished id been able to tell him sooner. i almost said that it wasnt his fault, but i didnt. alcoholism is hereditary.

i was still crying when me and eve went back to my room, but not loudly. just these little straggler sobs that kept forcing their way up my throat.

ems been holding me ever since. i hope they stay another night because i dont think i can handle being alone right now.

[swearyshera]

Advance apology for the long ask in a likely sea of 'em. A lot of people talk about wishing they could experience something they love again for the first time, this series was genuinely as close to that as I've ever felt. Just given the span of time my attention flucuated on and off but once the latter half of s4/s5 began my attention was absolutely nailed to your feed. Its up with Dragon Ball Z Abridged as parody series that become so dramatically effective they become a valid or definitive way to experience the series. Goddamned sensational.

Your portrayals of the characters soar. They provide a hilarious, cruder take on each that still cuts right to the soul of who these people are and lays it bare, which I think is the mission of any good-natured parody. Adora, Catra, Glimmer, Scorpia, Bow, Prime etc. There is not one that does not shine. It tackled a ton of issues and misgivings I had about canon, and even elevated or clarified many scenes and arcs through addressing them a more direct fashion. You took full advantage of not having to dress up and dance around the dark subjects canon was sort of doomed to handle inadequately given its age bracket and thematic priorities. Many scenes were jawdropping. Ive raved about it before, but your scene with Glimmer actually talking about her mom with Catra still leaves me gobsmacked every time I reread it. Your big moments towards the finale btwn Adora and Catra are obviously sublime and tie their wonderful arc off fantastically, but in my heart of hearts that cell talk will be the crown jewel of this project. Loved seeing the LGBT message take center stage in way canon had to hold back. To paraphrase Tolkien, I'm can't count myself among those gifted people, and youve def got a target audience in mind, but if youve ever worried if your stories resonate on a quote unquote "more universal" level, I promise you can put those worries to bed. Since becoming an adult ive intentionally sought out more and more queer-inclusive/created stories and I havent regretted it a bit, and the rising tide of fascist sexist/homo/transphobic bile in politics gets more and more frightening. But I've also seen how strong and resilient LGBT people are in the face of it, empowering themselves in no small part thru stories like yours. Please don't ever give up on your art. The world needs artists like you. Sorry if I come off pretentious or condescending, I feel like that when I try to get everything I think out at once. I'll be among the first to come running if you ever start another project like this or make something on an even grander scale. Thank you a thousand times for this. Also writing a wholeass sitcom pilot based on an offhand quasi-joke I made is the most weirdly touching thing I think anyones ever done "for me" (at least nominally cuz of me), especially a stranger. So thank you for that too.

Aw, you'll make me cry, you know! I think you've understood everything I wanted to do with this strip (or at least, when I started thinking beyond just 'characters saying fuck'), and... yeah, it's been an incredible journey, both for the blog and for me personally.

I've always tried to keep the parody good-natured. You can often tell, particularly in parody, when the creator dislikes one particular character (I mean, Horde Prime was probably the exception here), but I love all of them, so it really comes from a place of love. It's quite odd because I never set out to "fix" the show, and I wouldn't want to, but some things I've done seem to have had such an impact that a lot of people think I have done just that.

The Glimmer/Catra conversation is absolutely one of my favourite things I've written from this. It's such a pivotal moment in both their stories and character development, and I am truly humbled that multiple people have called it 'better than canon'. Like... I'm just some person trying to be funny and occasionally serious, and people are saying something I wrote is better than what a team of experienced professional writers did? Give over, no... But it's still a moment I can be proud of.

I won't be stopping writing things. This whole blog has given me a new lease of life and something to aim towards. I've got an excellent pilot script pretty much finished, and I do want to bring Hellspawn up to that standard too (thank you for suggesting someone make a Sweary Frosta sitcom - I'm someone!). That may well involve a complete re-write, but I'll be sure to share it.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your kind words along the way. It really keeps me going :)

[heartsoulspiritelite]

La Knight x Jon Moxley

Yknow how they were roommates? Yeah I made a fic about it.

~

Summary-

Sharing an apartment with young Moxley wasn't bad, almost every night was like goddamn party. Knight liked it, he really did. But all this partying, also meant women. and sex. But he should be the one sleeping with em instead of being jealous of who they're sleeping with

~

Roomates

Sharing an apartment with young Moxley wasn't bad, almost every night was like goddamn party. Knight liked it, he really did. But all this partying, also meant women. and sex.

He wasn't the one sleeping with the hookers. It was Mox, and it fucking annoyed the shit out of him. Why you may ask? Because Knight has had the biggest fucking crush on Jon for aslong as he could remember.

You'll never hear him admit it though. He was a eye catcher, he should be the one sleeping with the women. Not the one jealous of who the women are sleeping with.

Here he is again bringing home yet another women. Knights been getting so tired of this shit. Can't he just use his hand for once. Like holy shit.

Watching them sneak of into his room from his seat on the couch just hurts. It really did hurt. Mox never really talked to him much anymore, To the point where he pretty much just ignores him. Why couldn't he come to him for his pleasureable needs. He'd sure as hell be much better than the hookers he brings home.

He figures the man would be busy fucking for about a solid 10 minutes, so he decides to jack himself off. Why not? If Mox can so can he.

But the thoughts of women aren't helping, So his mind wonders off to Moxley, He can hear them. They aren't quiet whatsoever.

The way Jon sounds, He pictures him shirtless, dominating the slut he has in his room, he want's it to be him so very bad. He feels slutty for thinking this, but he can't help it, Why couldn't it be him goddammit.

He whimpers. He hears himself fucking whimper.

He has his cock in his hand and jacks it off slowly, while he tries to control his breathing. The last thing he wants is to be caught, but even that thought hardens his cock. He soon feels shame come over him and heads to the shower to cool off.

The water feels incredible as it runs down him, the cold water cools his flustered body, and his boner has gone down some. He's still sexually frustrated but he doesn't feel that he deserves it, like what kind of friend gets off by thinking sexually about his roomate?

He turns the tap off and dries himself off. He doesn't even care anymore. he walks out naked and into his room. To get changed. What he forgot his clothes?

But turns out Moxley was out there, He just flashed his bare ass to his roomate. Eh they've both done it countless times, but this time feels different.

He walks out after changing into sweats and staying shirtless, He finds Jon sitting in the living room looking quite flustered if he must say so himself, staring at him with wanting eyes.

He was also shirtless and just in a pair of basketball shorts.

"Your girl go home?" He asks the shocked man coldly

This snaps Mox out of his shocked state

"She aint my girl what?" he states bewildered

"Well what is this? The fucking 10th women this week? Like Fuck Jon calm down" He yells before walking into the kitchen

"Get your pretty little ass out here. Since when has this bothered you"  He fights back

Knight walks back out looking a little flushed trying to explain

Mox smirks at this.

"What are you jealous pretty boy?" He whispers

He slowly walks over to the flushed man and runs his hand down Knight's chest while putting his mouth close to his ear

"You wish it was you huh?" he whispers teasingly before backing up so he can breath

"I-I huh?" The older man mutters not being able to comprehend anything.

Mox laughs

"It all makes sense now!!" He cheers victoriously

He looks at the older mans confused gaze and continues

"Man ive been bringing these women honestly just to fuck with ya. I didn't think you'd get that pissed though, But i've wanted you for so fucking long, and that ass.." he trails off

Knight finally breaks out of his trance and rushes into Mox's hold and kisses him like his life depends on it. Moxley kisses back just as passionatly

"Holy fuck..." Knight whispers against his lips

"You dont how bad ive wanted to fucking jerk off to you" he continues

"Why didnt you?" Mox asks slightly confused

"Shame" He replies simply

"Well you have me now, so cmon" Mox encourages and leads him to couch.

Knight laughs slightly and follows.

~

Im to lazy to write smut im sorry.

~Cross-posted on wattpad and ao3~

[goremet-chef]

HI i just got back from a like. 7 hour gaming session of the forest and SHITT MANN (RAMBLE)

we had a few goals, one was to put up spike walls for our upper base, n then another was to finish just small furniture things

the main one was to go to the caves and get the schematics cuz i wanted a glider. we GOT IT and it was all good and we made em but MANNN

my throat started to be like? TIGHT? feeling horribly paranoid and on edge for 7 hours straight will do that to you i guess

we went to the village for cloth and then fucking megan was there and i was like HM theres a PROBLEM leave now so we ran and listen

I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION that if you SLEPT they just despawned. my impression was incorrect ofc, when you sleep they just move a bit farther away

so.... we went back assuming she was gone and man! she was not gone! i pretty much made direct eye contact with her and my friend is so. SHE. the way like.. WHAT IF I DIDNT KNOWWWW

anytime i see somethin im like PROBLEM theres a problem theres an armsy, cowman, WHATEVER but no she has a sort of. freeze and then flee rresponse, so she saw megan and then saw it start to chase me and ran, said nothing which. GOOD THING I WAS PAYING ATTENTION.

i made some really interesting noises cuz i thought she was RIGHT on my tail like i kept hearing a weird whipping noise and i just thought it was over for me man. literally my friend was shocked cuz like.. IVE MADE SOME WEIRD NOISES WHEN IM SCARED ALRIGHT

being chased in horror games is one of my favorite like... TO ME thats the scariest thing i hate chases they mentally overwhelm me to the point where when im watching someone play a game and their getting chased, i have to pause the video every 3 seconds because i physically cant handle how stressed it makes me SKFJS

so... imagine that but its me and there is no pausing!!!!! horrible awful

we antagonized her a bit and lured her around cuz. for SCIENCE i needed to get close to this creature and hear how she sounded, so i know what to listen for

she despawned eventually which sucks cuz it was right when i was gonna call upon my monster hunter skills and kick her ass but no she vanished (scared obviously)

THAT WASNT THE END THO, no of course not.. so we built our house in the same exact spot markiplier and his friends built theres. it looks pretty similar too (rock walls, 3 doors, you get it) and last time we played, we branched upwards to the area above us. so we built proper walls and weve got 3 cabins up there for each of us and its cute its our little base with our other watch towers

i hate it up there!!! actually despise it, cuz of how the trees are and the hill its hard to see incoming threats, and we tend to log up there for convenience so. ITS EVEN WORSE when im trying to track several things with my ears at once. gotta listen for deer so i dont get scared, gotta tune out my friends chainsaw (i never log with the chainsaw for this reason, i need my ears so bad when im playing horror/survival games KSJFS), gotta listen for THREATS and look too im reallllll paranoid. IT SUCKS

last time we played, we got wormed, i didnt even see it because i was just hanging out up top finishing our walls and this bitch said "WORM." and she had ALREADY ziplined down to our main house since the cabins werent done yet. i was HORRIFIED because i didnt hear a damn thing!!!! i know worm is quieter but.. when SHE notices something before i do, something has gone wrong KSFJSF so.. it spawned behind, i forgot we had a zipline and threw myself (successfully) down the mountain by habit and i saw little worm bits fall down behind me before i quit the game

THIS TIME, it spawned behind her, and right in front of me while we were going to place the tower for the gliders

literally just glooped up from the ground i didnt even realize what i was looking at at first?? and i was like ah! WORM and we left the game so fast (we dont want that smoke hush)

but we got paranoid because. last time it spawned, she saved and THEN left, so it despawned and that was our worm spawn of the month right

but this time we both just LEFT so i was worried maybe it didnt save the spawn and it would spawn again, yknow? so bottom image is us both hiding up in the towers cuz i was. GENUINELY AFRAID TO TOUCH THE FLOOR

i thought it would just. POP UP BEHIND ME. i think we got really unlucky. cuz i dont think its meant to spawn AT US yknow? like i dont think its programmed to spawn where we are on purpose, its jsut really unlucky that BOTH TIMES it was RIGHT UP HERE SKFJSFS

thats why i hate it up here, its worm hell!!!!! fuck all that

its fine tho we did it, we made our gliders and flew around a bit it was fun

it sucked cuz like... we needed cloth and her cloth things were kinda bugged? cuz they werent respawning for her so.. IT WAS ALL ON ME and i HATE going anywhere in the forest. limited visibility, too far from the water, its all bad man

and the last few times!!! once was a cowman, 2nd was megan twice!!!!!!! so i was so fucking reluctant to go grab them but the last time we went, we put on our paint, we were careful (also i told this mfer i said bestie i need you to be my eyes while im trying to look for cloth and she said okay o7 and i turned around and shes like all the way down the hill not looking for me 💀💀)

we went in and got everything and no one even showed up!!! man i was nervous tho kSKFJS so we go it, finished our gliders and flew

overall, horrible day! everytime i got scared like when i was being chased my heart wouldnt even just drop, it would SEIZE UP it legitimately HURT

only good part is i realized i wanted to recreate my cabin in sons of the forest cuz i could put on overhang over my patio like i wanted to (mine is the house with the red icon)

anyways im fucking exhausted and i need to destress so im gonna keep writing my story lmao

[bungoustraypups]

For the fic writer ask game!! 14, 19, 22 (because I lowkey need advice too >.<), 29

(Also it makes me send asks from my main blog but this is @rashoumon-homo)

(questions are from this post! i am still accepting these asks too!)

sorry this took forever ahaha idk why i just. did Not answer these. but!

14. where do you get your inspiration?

anywhere and everywhere! usually from listening to music, or reading other works of fiction, but not always! sometimes i recycle ideas from old fanfics from old fandoms ive written, too

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

oh geez uh. i've micro-researched lots of things for fic reasons, but a lot of what i include in fics comes from things ive like, already known about them in my life before writing the fic, but uh

i've done quite a bit of research into pregnancy for my fics since i write a lot of pregfics and babyfics and it's actually super interesting imo! its such a common thing ppl (not me, im the son of a biologist lmao, biological functions are never simple & i assume nothing) just assume they either know everything about already or that cant possibly be that complicated when it really is

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

i'll admit i used to worry a lot more but now, i may have brief moments where i worry, but i honestly just don't care anymore. i relieve myself by saying "the people who matter will react well and the people who won't react well don't matter" and it's def advice i pass on. the more you tell it to yourself, the easier it'll get to believe it!

i also rarely get hate comments, probably bc my fics never get all that popular and i'm fairly unknown in most of my fandoms, but if/when i do, i just delete em lmao. fic is not the place for "constructive criticism" or w/e and i don't give a fuck about the feelings of people who feel so entitled to other people's work and time they leave nasty comments on a fic, mine or anyone else's

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

it's not lmao. i can't explain my process, but chances are, if a fic title isn't a song title/lyric or a parody of the title of something else, i had to think on it for A While before it came to me suddenly in a flash of inspiration

[syrupspinner]

i just played the demo for beat, heart, beat

i think im just gonna start linking the steam page in everything i review. now its your job to click that link and try the demo. but read my post first cuz i like it when people do that

so this game kinda confounded me when i first saw it. i knew it was inspired by mad rat dead, like cmon the protagonist is a little rodent of some sort and theres this whole motif about following your heart. but then i saw the gameplay and it was an auto scroller with... idk the terminology but its a muse-dash like where youve got the top and bottom rows. and then i actually played the game and realized how much of its own thing this game was going for

so in muse dash your character is kind of in the centre between two single-width lanes, yes even if it looks like theyre on the bottom one, because the upper lane is always mapped to a dedicated upward button and the lower to a dedicated downward button. unless youre using a touch screen, this usually splits your controller in half, one side being up and the other down. i always end up holding it sideways

anyway, thats not how this works. its way more like a platformer, as in when you attack, you attack relative to where you are. the right key attacks in front of you, the up above, and down... down. this really fucked me up at first believe it or not, cuz my silly rhythm game brain is used to a perfect parity between lane and input

let me break it down cuz i dunno if that makes sense. if theres a note in front of you, hit ->. if theres a note above you, hit ↑, cuz youre on the ground and that note is in the air. now that youve done that, youre gonna hover in the air for a bit. theres another aerial note coming up, and since youre still in the air, you hit ->, because its in front of you, even through its in the air. i feel the need to be this granular because i really havent played a game like this before, lane relativity is uncharted territory (intentional pun)

they do some fun stuff with this! so theres this enemy that looks like a blueberry pancake and/or deflated balloon? look we were moving fast and i was focusing on the beat. anyway, its always gonna be below you (in the air over a pit) so you always down-attack it, but when you do you bounce right back up to the elevation you were at. this sets up for some really cool patterns where youve gotta be attentive to know what the inputs are thanks to the lane relativity, and that makes a fun and challenging section of the level! im really excited to see the patterns they use in the full game

i do have a few snags. first, the cue notes really fucked me up. all the notes are really visually distinct, and thats important cuz theyre gonna do different things to your character and fuck with your note relativity. but the cue notes are only different from their colour, which i find a lot harder to process than shape if ive got half-a-second to register what input i need. one cue has a different tempo, and another starts on an offbeat, so it really threw me off whenever i had to react to em

another thing, really minor, no controller support. not a problem since i, yknow, own a keyboard, but the menus use the mouse way too often? the main menu is permissable, but even the results screen makes you click confirm with your cursor instead of being able to highlight it with buttons and stuff. whats weird is that the song selection lets you use arrow keys, so i really dont get it. the last point was just me struggling with the gameplay, this feels like something that id actually wanna see changed in the full release

but heres some things i LOVE. first, the vibe, fucking obviously. i love the gritty overtoned garageband soundtrack i love the mishmash collage visuals, i love the design of the main character i wanna snuggle them to bed.

so heres something ive never seen a rhythm game do before, right? and i cant confirm this is the case, but i feel like this has to be what happened just watching the gameplay difference: they make the judgement windows tighter on higher difficulties. thats genius, why are you the first person to do that, that feels so obvious in retrospect but it just makes sense as a thing to do. i understand in a lot of more 'professional' traditional rhythm games, yknow the beatmania kind, wanna give you a more uniform experience across songs and let you personalize your input windows and yadda yadda we dont do that here. you are a little mousie and hard mode makes the timing harder too, thats badass

dont worry about the difficulty btw, from what i can tell the game is pretty forgiving to newcomers while still offering a challenge. all the levels defaulted to easy mode in the level select (no story mode in the demo, whatcha gonna do) but you still get tutorials and stuff on the higher levels, so its accepting if you just wanna jump into tough shit. either way though you cant really fail a level, theres no health bar and no minimum score. if you fall down a pit you just head back to your last checkpoint and you dont get a medal on the results screen, so if you dont care then you can just blitz through. they dont even have overstrum so you can just spam that shit and look at the pretty backgrounds

so i think BHB is gonna be something special. i love the looks, the sounds, everything has this raw vibe to it. like, the singer has a really scratchy and heavy singing voice, and i think that adds a really good emotional quality to all the songs. the cue notes are gonna fuck me up and itll probably take the whole game for me to get used to the lane relativity thing but you know i dig a game that lives on its own terms.

if you like rhythm games then youre gonna try the demo and youre gonna wishlist it because you like psychedelic visuals and alt-rock vibrations. if you dont like those youre gonna wishlist it anyway because that really helps the algorithm pick up indie games and more people need to see this, i think this really has potential to be a gem and it deserves the recognition for it. after youve done that youre gonna play the demo again until you like it. its a good demo for a probably good game, i dunno cuz its not out yet but i just have a good feeling about this one. its 1 am and i woke up early as shit today so thats the best youre getting

[sincelastsession]

Joshua that number I left for my past EMDR therapist is the only way I've gotten in touch with her. I did request my records, she said she'd send them. They weren't delivered ever. I really really do want to get my files from her I am entitled to a copy via state law. It contains a fuck ton about me that I really feel will help because the sheer amount of traumas to bring up again is going to jar me trying to list em out. I feel like it'll definitely assist you on my treatment plan greatly because we did A LOT.

I assume that there's a place files of this nature are supposed to go?

I assume you would know who to call to help me secure them? Or perhaps we could find out. Even if you don't want to use them...I would very much like a copy of her files on me.

I can sign paperwork for you next session for you to get my files if I haven't and idk who else you'd like to talk to or option to chat with other than psychiatrist and primary care but I'll sign documents with them.

I think she still has a profile on psychology today and email...but the text number I left has been my only way to catch her...

I don't want to be nasty but if she can't produce my files I will call a lawyer. Because yes they'll be great for therapy but I asked a while back.

I'm going to send an image of your card to her and request she leave a voice-mail or talk to Chelsea so we can get that done.

It's just BOTHERING me.

I do understand your treatment style us very different.

Also fuck Robyn. I got so much "feedback" to say about her. She takes literal young men and women who are struggling and honestly I see those patients struggling more with thier gender identity and transitioning. I don't think she's safe for LGBTQA+ folks. That's imo something that should be between a psychiatrist and endo foremost before hitting therapy. Like ive spoken to mine about it and we have different views but now that I have I can open up abt that. Like she invited a client to her home. I feel she pushed a bi male into transitioning and imo the trans ppl I know are happy and she doesn't seem happy now at all. She told me to break up with my now ex and treated me like a liar and literally sessions with her felt like interrogation and SUPER judgy and she was VERY FAKE with my parents who were ofc putting on a show for her.

I cannot begin to explain how well my parents are at manipulating therapists and turning it into everything being on me and as soon as I say something in response or try to blow their cover it's WILD because the one thing they don't realize they do is thier facial expressions. They'll either over mask or forget to do it. They always trip up.

Mom likes to play victim and very clueless kind. Dad does this in a different manner, he's subject to get pissed and walk out or raise his voice unless he's gonna act right because you're not a woman.

The weirdest part of having been raised by these people. The way I've studied them since childhood to please them. They adapt and use therapy against me. They don't remember what they've said or done. They seem put out by me telling them "hey what you did was fuckin wrong and yeah I've brought it up before and you shut down and we never settled it" then they'll be like "you just love to hold grudges" etc... but it's not that. I'd like to process it all or what I can. The reason it comes up over and over is because it's not going into memories to be forgotten in my brain. It's just hanging out in the fuckin trauma bay. Like a packed ER.

I am open to whatever type of family therapy is beneficial. Often times my dad is nasty to my mom when she's calling or texting about me. I don't think she deserves any bullshit if she's just relaying a message.

Like they got divorced and still fight like idiot assholes.

She left and I had a fucked up back and was a stoner and kept to myself because my father treated me like a partner to abuse and daughter to control and there's a ton of emotional incest. Dad also talks to young ppl online and what I saw years ago looked like grooming behavior and poor pity me with women of age I hope but still younger than me. Probably because many older men try to influence young women and never emotionally mature correctly and actually accept their age. I remember him on dating sites complaining about how ugly certain women were whose profiles imo were quite lovely and impressive. He acts sorta like an incel.

My sister you'll probably see straight through. She's an actress.

I do want to see with a few sessions if it may be possible to salvage anything with any of them.

What's upsetting is that though I have a poor sense of self...they don't really know me or seem to want to know me.

My psychiatrist thinks it's due to me not being healthy and also that I'm not married and doing the "normal" thing so there's resentment.

Since NONE of them listen to anything I have to say because they're all under the impression I'm trying to control them based on well nothing other than I'm gonna guess THE PAST.

They think I'm frantic. They haven't really read anything about what I deal with. They don't listen to listen. They listen to reply and they cherry pick and twist things I say to mean things they don't.

I don't know how to have a conversation with any of them without them exploding. My dad and mom have literally put me on speaker and walked off and my sister idfk last time I tried to speak to her she was FADED and I hung up.

They all have excuses.

It hurts that they won't accept and educate themselves like my friends do. It's not hard.

I fear they are both VERY mentally unwell and I'd really like to hear what you think.

I do have audio I keep forgetting to show you. I feel it's important and it will give you an idea of what a "light" encounter with them both while having a fucked up back and asking for help because I couldn't do laundry on my own sounds like. I recorded it because it'd already been happening that day and they do the narccistic tornado and I wanted to make sure my words weren't twisted more.

I wish I had more recorded. It's wild.

I'm concerned my dad is fucking with Piper's head but she's already a shitshow (I love my sister but I'm gonna fuss about her crap still)

I feel like I'm playing Squid Games and talking to any of them is a test.

My dad has told me to kill myself and to die and he's left me alone in the hospital after relieving my mom where I was then abused and left in a waiting room with a dead phone and no way to go pee for HOURS because my back was out.

We almost sued OLOL for the maltreatment.

This is not the first time I've been left alone in a hospital and abused.

People think I'm a hypochondriac but I just have a special interest in medical. I grew up in medical environments. Knowing as much as I can retain has kept me safe from further misdiagnosis and malpractice bullshit. I wish I could actually just gent sent to a mayo clinic or idk one of the big hospitals where they use diagnosticians and run you through the gambit.

I know it's not a thing unless ppl are very sick. I mean it was traumatic as a child to be put in NIH testing for a Dermatomyositis study. I don't remember meeting other kids. I just met Ted Kennedy one day while I was playing waiting on another test. It was scary being like 8 and seeing secret service fill a room and guard a door so he could have a photo with me. He did talk to me a ton and I really don't remember what he said. My parents were thrilled and I'm sure there's a cat piss stained picture somewhere.

Did you know that my sister and dad just threw a ton of my things away and donated or tossed most of my books. I had a massive bookshelf. Now it's covered with things that are mine and shit my sister used to make her room aesthetic without asking me.

It has always been hard to go home and get anything from her. I really just want to take everything that was or is mine. Things I gave her and things she stole.

I don't think she realizes I have 2yrs to file a report on the assault and I could take her to court for emotional distress too and probably more.

I've never gotten justice for any of the things that have happened to me.

I wish I could just send all thier asses to prison but they wouldn't survive.

They all think I won't do anything. That's been taunted at me.

They have no clue. They have no clue what they created and they have no clue what goes on in my head.

Sometimes I think that there's something supernatural at play.

I believe in those sorts of things. I don't talk about it much enthusiastically because ofc people like to shit on it.

I know most of the things that haven't been proven by science will eventually be.

I know that also it does exist. Our govt wouldn't have done studies to use ppl with ability for war purposes.

I know a lot of cold reading is fueled by trauma. I don't like to cold read. I think people who sell cold reads etc are just very good at telling others what they want to hear...or they're so desperate they will truly take advice.

When I read things come through and there's this process. It's mind's eye where pictures and words come through. Then I just ask about what I see or deliver whatever messages. I was pushed out of a group that was threatened by my reading. They were threatened because they are frauds. If a message doesn't make sense for someone then I tell them to just take what makes sense. It's often like a crowded room when I read for people. It's been a while since I tried beyond simple shit. I've scared the crap out of friends holding thier hand and reading them. Because they never told me about the people I relayed messages. I didn't just guess. I opened myself up to it and flooded in.

Sometimes I want to get Reiki certification so I can just do that for ppl. I was told by a master that I was a natural energy worker. I was told by native shamans that I was a gatekeeper. My grandmothers had thier little superstitious practices.

This is the part you'll probably want to ask more about if I haven't talked abt it. I've exorcized a demonic or spiritual entity out of a person before. There's no way to prove it. I know what I saw and heard. I wasn't high.

It makes me wonder how many cases are actually supernatural and how many are actually just mental illness.

Also it's been driving me insane Joshua but I know you somehow outside of therapy. I do wonder if we've just been at the same place at the same time more than once and that's why I remember your face or if we have many mutual ppl. This is a big city small town so who knows. I hope it doesn't fuck up th Or you have a doppelganger 🤷🏻‍♀️

Idk.

I think one reason ppl think me and Travis would be a pair is because he's just a really kind good person. This extends beyond me and to others he knows. His family really is picturesque. They are excellent people. He will make someone incredibly happy one day. I am really bothered by people passing him over. He's actually looking for a therapist. I wouldn't be bothered if any of my friends saw you as a patient. The whole "oh no we can't do therapy with people you know" thing imo is silly. People in this state all know each other to the point it's just goofy.

My partner called me all excited that he didn't have to work overnight. He called because he was going out and felt bad that he wouldn't get to chat with me and had planned on doing so and had been excited to do so. He actually said "I Love you" more than once and I told him to go have fun. Saying I Love you is difficult for him sometimes. Am I sad I'm not getting to talk to him? Yes. Am I happy he got out of a stressful work night to enjoy time with his buddies or other partner? Yes, why wouldn't I be? I do get sad that I can't be there but it's still better than half the mfers that are just overgrown fuckbois etc that don't even have the emotional maturity to call.

I'm gonna go smoke out, do smol bit of laundry in my travel laundry bucket thing, eat decent food, stay up to an asinine hour, and play Sims4.

Hopefully no dumb bullshit occurs.

I cannot and I'm not the one this evening.

Goodnight

[winderlylandchime]

1/2 And we are at 5x08. There was a 20 minute break and he had to call our mom and when she told him he’s being ridiculous, he went ‘but moooom, they played you are my sunshine song while he walked away’ He also keeps giving me a side eye and just looks pissed at me. The episode starts with Brian fucking guys off the list ‘what the fuck is this shit? *looks at me* can you imagine if Justin’s name was on it? We all know Bri Bri is gonna win this childish game, so just wrap it up’ *looks at me during the Brian/Brandon bar scene* ‘why is Bri dressed like he’s pushing 70? Where is the leather? Where is the brown jacket?’ ‘So now Mike and Justin are best friends? Nah. I want a refund! I liked this when Mike was normal and Justin was with Brian. But this? No. (Justin says mike has done plenty) mhm, aint that the truth. (Justin says hes wanted things for long time) since when? Episode 4 of season 5? This is brand new! Stop lying to me. And you. FUCK YOU MIKE! Bri didnt ruin the friendship! You did! You let your stupid new friends talk shit about him to him and did nothing! He’d burn their house down if that was you. Im so fucking sick of everyone being so rude to Brian’ ‘ugh. So let me get this: brian and Justin are forced apart cause the writers suck. Lindsay and Mel are playing house again even tho they suck even more. Ben and Mike are fucking annoying. And Emmett has a stalker. Throw this whole fucking season away right now *looks at me suspiciously* unless if they get back together in the next 40 minutes’ and we are with Brian/Ted ‘HE DID LOSE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE! Finally someone says it! Fuck the best friend tho. I hate the fact that he makes jokes instead of talking his feelings out (Thee frigid bitch scene happens) *gasp* OH MY GOD. *pauses tv after Brian says he lost two people who mean the most to him and just stares at the tv with his mouth open and then slowly turns to me* he actually did it. Where the fuck was *waves his cast around* this shit after season 4? I have to process this, give me a second.’ He then went outside to smoke. He then walked in and went ‘i want to fight his dad. And his mom. Hug him and smack sense into Justin.’ We are now at the scene with Drew and Em ‘DREW?! HES BACK? He’s getting divorced? He’s being blackmailed? What the fuck is going on this season?’ ‘This bet is actually so fucking dumb. Would make sense in season 1 or 2 but not now. *looks at me like ive never seen qaf before* i told you they made him all season 1 again! What happened to the bike race? And the spending time with Gus? AND JUSTIN! And cancer? Although im okay with that fucker gone. shit the last dude on the list is leaving the country? Damn. That’s sad. Oh well, back to Justin we go’ And we are at Justin/dad scene ‘why is he wasting his time with him? (Craig calls Justin an abomination) the only abomination here is that hair. (Craig says justin is the reason for divorce) *throws a pillow at the tv* FUCK YOU’ ted tells his story about the fraternity and how he got punched for having a crush ‘Ted, if that was me, i would’ve protected you! Although i never stayed longer than a few months in college but id still protect you!’ And we are on the plane scene with Brian ‘BRIAN! Where the fuck is he going? NO FUCKING WAY! That’s actually fucking hilarious, im not gonna lie. *starts laughing/almost fake sobbing and puts his hand on his face* and I actually thought he’d let that stop him. But he needs to go back to Justin. Please’ ‘BRIAN AND EMMETT! They keep giving me little moments like this just to tease me. Emmett please, knock some sense into him about Blondie! You’re my last hope since nobody is fucking listening to me.’ And it shows that Drew got outed ‘WHAT THE FUCK?! Oh god, this is bad!’ ‘HE DID NOT GET BLONDIE ARRESTED! OH MY FUCKING GOD. Wait hold the fuck up *spreads his arms out like he wants to run but doesnt know what direction* someone call brian to bail him out that way: BOOM they get back together! Im surprised he hasnt gotten arrested sooner tho. Love him but hes a bit dumb’

He's pissed at you like you wrote the show. LOL

(Justin says hes wanted things for long time) since when? Episode 4 of season 5? This is brand new! Stop lying to me. And you. FUCK YOU MIKE! Bri didnt ruin the friendship! You did! You let your stupid new friends talk shit about him to him and did nothing! He’d burn their house down if that was you. Im so fucking sick of everyone being so rude to Brian’ Just speaking the truth Brother Anon. I completely agree.

Brian says he lost two people who mean the most to him and just stares at the tv with his mouth open and then slowly turns to me* he actually did it. Where the fuck was *waves his cast around* this shit after season 4? I have to process this, give me a second. That scene with Ted gives us so much. But whatever S5 giveth, it taketh times ten.

THEY MADE HIM ALL SEASON 1! Truer words have never been spoken.

Brian should have been the one to bail him out. MAYBE YOUR BROTHER CAN WRITE A FANFIC WHERE THAT HAPPENS

[voidsumbrella]

so ive been using window 7 since high school, right, first on my laptop, and i stuck with it for my desktop bc windows 10 had only come out pretty recently- windows 8 had been such a fucking mess that i wanted to make sure it was, yknow, functional. i continued not upgrading bc i found the format to be kind of irritating, and also bc im lazy and have a pretty firm "if it aint broke dont fix it" policy. i continued not upgrading after they discontinued support bc i have become increasingly bitter about how much corporate spyware is crammed onto every electronic on the face of the planet.

this was fine until last year, when i finally started running into programs i actually wanted to run flat not working on win7, and by programs i mean games, and by games i mean elden ring. so i dissected my old gaming laptop, removed the 2 500gb hard drives, shoved 'em my desktop, and used one of them to dual boot the thing to windows 10, which i had to spend enough energy on setting up in a way i was comfortable with that by the end i was just like "ill use this... later..." and then didn't. i still haven't played elden ring.

im now running into more programs that aren't compatible, including csp 2.0, and i want that align tool badly enough to bite the bullet and switch to using win10 full time. this means i have to swap which drive is running which- win10 needs to be on my main hard drive (2tb, runs faster) along with all my files, win7 needs to be on one of the 500gb drives with any older progams incompatible w/ win10 (the other 500gb drive is for overflow storage; i like to micromanage my file organization).

it doesn't appear to be possible to just switch them simultaneously, which tracks, that feels like a bit of a tall ask. so the gameplan then became to:

1) empty the storage drive and merge both the 500gb drives into one 1tb partition

2) shuffle files onto flash drives so my win7 side is under 1tb (~200gb, no i do not have any one device that fits that, i had to play data tetris on like 4 different ones, if someone wants to give me $100 to get a better external that would be great)

3) make a disc image of the win7 data on my 1tb external

4) wipe the 2tb drive, move the win10 data onto the clean disc (possibly by merging the partitions?)

5) restore the file data to win10

6) re-dual boot and restore all win7 data on the 1tb side

7) make sure all my shit got shuffled over properly; move anything fully win10 incompatible onto external storage (may involve wiping external hard drive, we'll see)

8) factory restore win7 to default settings, fully clearing file data

9) repartition the 500 gb storage unit; untetris all the overflow data back into place

10) manifest an extra hundred dollars or so and purchase an external drive with 4+ tb data as i should have done like 5 years ago ._.

im currently on: step 3! and have been for roughly 3 days now, bc large backups are Fucking Slow and it took me a hot second to find out that win7's native backup+disc image creator straight up won't process a 2tb disc, you need to download some other software. also because tech problems are bad for my blood pressure, and i have other shit to do in my life.

the backup software (it actually came with my external but i never actually installed, because i havent had to backup the entire drive and os for this pc before. the os backup was technically. like 7 years old. from my laptop. and i never thought to replace it, i just kept the files updated as needed) is currently like halfway through and if it gives me another error message before it finishes i will. i dont know. lay down and cry, probably.

did i ever actually post the tech saga. i havent been able to use my desktop properly in like a week.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Superman's Dishcloth

A small cute headcannon thats been sitting on my tablet?

Summary: some people use pick up lines to get a womans number, henry uses a crochet lesson.

Warnings: Fluff?

Your fingers twisted the yarn around the hook automatically looping and pulling untill you made another double crochet stitch that the pattern required.

To be honest you wasnt paying that much attention as you worked your project, which was stupid really because you were making a new pattern, a bobble popcorn style head band.

You couldnt concentrate for two reasons

One. You were on a goddamned plane soaring across the Atlantic ocean. And if things went tits up you cant swim.

And two? You were seated next to none oher then mr henry cavill himself.

Not that you made a thing about it or even dared to look at him.

He he was watching you, eyes frowning as your fingers twisted the yarn into an intricate looking yet fairly simple pattern.

Youhad to stifle a laugh as his fingers twitched tryig to follow the moves and figure out what you were doing.

You growled missing count again. One, two, three three, skip three. A crochet, half double crochet, two double crochet in one stitch then skip three stitches and repeat untill the end.

Normally youd have no problems but your audience was putting you off.

You dropped the project in your lap as you miscounted again and realised you had to undo the last twelve stitches otherwise you'd be a set out on the end.

You closed your eyes grunting before slipping the hook out and began to tug the working yarn slowly before pinching it and slipping the hook into the loop catching it before it all unraveled.

"Why'd you undo it?" You jumped a little as the huge man beside you spoke up after watching you quietly since take off.

"Huh?... oh i misscounted i skipped four instead of three so it'd be out of line on the end and curl round..."

"How'd you know?" He frowned now leaning over even more curious then before.

You chewed your lip trying not to freak out as he peered over your little project.

"Err well i just counted the stiches i had left on the row, see i was up to here and there was five left not six, so i pulled it taught to spot the odd one out" you explained pulling more yarn through so you could point out the stitches to him with the hook.

"It looks complicated, you twist it so many times?" He said as your fingers began moving once more creating the repetitive pattern.

"Yeah... its not too difficult, Im doing a few different stitches is all, once you know a single crochet stitch and a chain stitch your good to go" You muttered with a smile.

"I doubt its that simple" he replied trying to keep up with watching your fingers guiding the hook jthought the piece making the fabric grow.

"It really is, here you see the little v on top?" You said slowing deciding to show him just how simple it was.

"Yeah?" He hummed quietly watching keenly.

"Thats the row before, so you slip your hook under both strands like this and loop your yarn over then pull through under that v so you have one loop on your hook" you said moving slowly and loosened the stitch with a light wiggle so he could see properly.

"Then loop the yarn over again so you have two loops, and pull the second one through the first... and thats a single crochet stitch" You explained showing him slowly.

"So you make lots of tiny loops and pull them through one another and it some how becomes fabric?" He asked fascinated by it, watching as you began to work on the next stitch.

"Yeah pretty much"

"But that one you pulled the wool over before you did anything at all?" You paused impressed he had noticed the slight difference... he had been watchkn that closely?

"So that was a half double, when you do a half double or double you yarn over first, then you just keep yarning over and pulling through until your left with one loop on the hook" you tried explaining as simply as you could.

"... it still sounds hard" he uttered still focusing on your hands that had been creating stitches.

"Honestly its not, i taught myself in about an hour and a half? Here try it? I've got extra yarn in my carry on if you want to give it a go?" You offered and instantly flushed you did not just offer to teach superman how to crochet like a fucking granny!

Before you could take it back and apologise he beamed.

"Really? That would be fun, i've never tried anything like this before" he said eagerly.

"Err yeah sure lemme just get you started, i'll give you a 5 hook... here" you said surprized digging about pulling the small ergonomic crochet hook out and some mustard yellow yarn.

"So you start with a slipknot... and then a few chain stitches" you began guiding him through it slowly teaching him the steps.

"So do you always crochet on long flights?" He asked pokeing his tongue out as he tried concentrating on the stitches he was doing.

"Yeah, im not good with confined spaces... especially confide spaces that are a good few miles in the air over the open ocean" you chuckled nervously chaining a stitch then turning begining your next row.

"Honestly im not either, usually i have kal- my dog but... not this time... this is good though, its helping take my mind off it thank you" he said sincerly.

"Dont mention it"

"Oh... i think ive done it wrong?" He said andnheld it out to you, you prodded it and to be honest you were impressed, it was neat, not a dropped stitch in sight... just a few loose stitches here and there, but he was finding a good tension.

"No, thats not wrong... just your tension thats all it comes with practice" you said handing it back to him.

"Tension?" He said making you pause. Oh yeah, he wouldnt knpw what that is yet.

"Yeah, how tight you hold the yarn and hook determies how tight your stitches are... mines pretty bad, i have to always use a size bigger hook" you expalined simply

"Really?"

"Yep, i do it too tight- even snapped a metal hook in my hand before" you chuckled remebering the way the hook had just... snapped mid project.

"Wow that sounds painfull?" He huffed eeingnyour hand curiously as if expecting you to snap a hook then and there.

"Yeah, i will admit i was frustrated with the project so it probably didnt help" you chuckled sheepishly.

"Frustrated? Was it complicated like that one?" He asked nodding to your growing head band.

"No, i kept loosing count on a pattern of 78 stitches" you said trying to wave it off but in actual fact that project had been murder.

"So what are you making?" He finally asked eyeingnyour work that had grown wider.

"A little headband, and hopefully i will widen it at the ears to keep em warm" you giggled wrapping it around pinchingnthe ends together proudly presenting it to him.

He grinned and looked down at his little square fiddling with it.

"And im making a... mess?" He laughed holding up the uneven square cheeks tinted pink when you giggled again.

"... Dishcloth?" You offered prodding it gently.

"Perfect, im making a dishcloth!" He bellowed nodding proud of his new diy dish cloth.

"I'm henry by the way. But from the way you were shaking in your seat im guessing you knew?" He finally introduced himself holding out a hand.

You smiled shyly and took it shakingnhands trying not to fawn over how huge hot and soft the palm was.

"Yeah... sorry i was nervous and you probably dont want to be bugged. Im y/n" you tried explaining nervously but he chuckled.

"I wouldnt mind being bugged by such a cutie~" he uttered quietly smirking at you tipping his head down a little too make sure you heard him despite his voice being quiet.

"Oh stop it" you flushed quickly looking down at your headband noticing your stitches werent as even as they could have been, but it couldnt be helped you had handsome distraction.

A very distracting handsome distraction.

"Its true. Besides i think it was me bugging you... and i have managed to plunder through your wool" he grinned sheepishly holding up his little dishcloth.

"Its fine, it not expensive, this is left over yarn from other projects" you waved him off. It was true ou had lots of odd ends and half skeins of woll from other projects.

"Well still i appreciate it, i hate flying" he said sincerly.

"Well now you have something to practice. Youll leave the plane with a new skill to stick on your cv" you added with a grin nudging him playfully.

"Indeed... And perhaps i can leave the p,ane with err...maybe your number to? You know to replace the wool and erm swap err instructions?" He said nervously jumbling his words.

You paused and looked at him shocked blinking. Did he just?

You blinked again watching as his face grew red and he chuckled nerously plucking at the woll on his dishcloth.

"Well i suppose every student needs to be able to contact theor teacher~ and these instructions are called patterns" you smiled to him nodding slowly.

"Right right i knew that of course they're patterns" he chuckled grinning ear to ear relived you hadnt turned him down.

"Well we have a good few hours, perhaps a few more lessons for my little student?" You teased picking up the pattern to show him some of the abbreviations. Mostly to try and concentrate on somthing other then the fact superman had just asked for your number... and was taking crochet lessons.

"Of course" he said excited eyes glittering with glee whilst looking at the small page.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[mde1011]

when i got into the dsmp i started a note and wrote down any quotes or moments i thought were funny, and im bored at 3 am so enjoy some of them

how is being arrested real? just walk away!!!”

⁃ “once an american always an american. go...go protests masks...or something”

⁃ “...yEAH BUT DID YOU HAVE WAP” “what’s...whats wap?” “...WORSHIP AND PRAYER”

⁃ “HOW DO YOU LIKE POLITICS MOTHERFUCKER”

⁃ “i’m naked” “...no you’re not” “i can be...”

⁃ “uhhhh i’m in a high stress situation....i deal with these poorly”

⁃ “i should go first i’m naked”

⁃ “yEAHHHH WE KILLED AN OLD MAN WITH HEART PROBLEMS”

⁃ “what are you going to do?” “i...have no idea i think i’m gonna start out by punching a tree”

⁃ “tOmmy...did i just hear you say shit ass looking mofo?”

⁃ “i aM gOinG to gEt nAkeD to iNtiMidAtE HiM”

- “...i want freedom !” “you want BALLS.”

⁃ “...down the line. yeah that’s where we discover the art of cannibalism” “oh it’s an art?” “it’s an art”

⁃ “oh there’s some logs here. wonder what they’re saying to me. uh huh. uh huh. oh yeah that’s very racist” “tommy you gotta burn those logs.” “burn ‘em before they spread their racism to other logs”

⁃ “are you pooing?” “*whisper* i’m charging up-““ “he’s ejaculating on the tent.” “he’s WHAT?”

⁃ “he’s sPEEDING. LOOK HOW FAST HES GOING” “i’ve taken so many drugs. someone tell badboyhalo”

⁃ “we should make a pact. and that pact is, uh, we make a book...and in that book...we declare that saying ‘muffin’ is a, is a slur”

⁃ “i was thinking what if one day your bladder just,,,,stopped working.....AGGGFFFFF i was tHINKING ABOUT THAT THE OTHER DAY IVE GOT TO PREPARE IVE GOT YO PREPARE thisiswhydiapersaintthatbad”

⁃ <sapnap> i think i was ordered to um

<tommyinnit> boobed

<sapnap> kill you

<tommyinnit> boobs

<sapnap> if this happens

<tommyinnit> think about boobs man

<sapnap> tsk tsk tommy

<tommyinnit> iM DISGRUNTLED

⁃ “why is this deadman so good at making drugs”

⁃ “i just learnt that a girl hero is called a heroine and it freaked me out”

⁃ “memento memento me-“ “that’s actually the worst word i know so you can’t keep saying that” “oh, really.....? have you ever heard the term ‘racist’?”

⁃ “the person who invented the phrase ‘be yourself’ hadn’t met you!”

⁃ “you seem like the type of guy whose dad would throw him overboard as a joke but he would just drown”

⁃ “shout out to dream for twerking!”

⁃ “let’s talk......let’s talk about sex” “wonderful. what do you think about sex, lazarbeam?” “i ain’t saying SHIT in front of a sixteen year old”

⁃ “what the- i think i’m seeing things” “....tommy i told you not to drink the sea water” “well i DID drink the sea water because it TOLD ME TO”

⁃ “it’s like the movie when that guy gets stranded on an island and has sex with a coconut” “whAT?? dream- dream, you vastly misinterpreted this” “it one hundred percent does”

⁃ “oh mastICATE.....isn’t that when a fish turns inside out?”

⁃ “what are some bad words YOU know, clay?” “i don’t-“ “what about ‘terrorist’?”

⁃ “my mind has to be on the same frequency as jesus when he walked on water”

⁃ “you wanna know why i was late?” “no i really do-“ “i was having a MASSIVE poo. really just a HUGE poo”

⁃ “jUST CUZ YOU TALK ABOUT POO ONCE AND THEN YOU SEE A BIG GREEN BASTARD AMD YOUR LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES AND THEN YOU CANT REMEMBER- YOU CANT REMEMBER IF IT WAS YESTERDAY OR TOMORROW YOU HURT THAT WOMAN”

⁃ “i love america. mmmmm patriotism

⁃ “LIFE IS NOT A HAPPY SONG KERMIT THE FROG”

⁃ “please stop taking the cock”

⁃ “two four six eight who do we appreciate? not the government let’s gooooooo”

⁃ “oooo look at the dogs😍” “wHAAAAAT. WHAT. THERES ACTUALLY LIKE. A MILLION DOGS HERE. WHAT THE HELL.”

⁃ “yeahhhhh bitch i stab- i don’t stab women-“ “woooooooah tommy you stab women?” “heyyyy sapnap”

⁃ “do you know what happens whne you reach the top of the ladder? there’s only one place to go.” “.....side to side😨” “down.” “...i really thought you were gonna say side to side🥺”

⁃ “one last time.” “just like in hamilton😓”

⁃ “you don’t know how many times i’ve mistaken trees for hot women”

⁃ “ i don’t feel better i just destroyed penis”

⁃ “i’ve never seen a snail with bad morals”

⁃ “awwwwwwww😢 i’m doin’ drugs🤧 just like the good ol’ days😓” “.....define the ‘good old days’” “back when i did drugs”

⁃ “have you ever fought a baby? i have and it was trivially easy to defeat, phil.”

⁃ “the only other i egg i know about was the one i learnt about in school....not allowed to say which one....”

⁃ “did you know one of my new years resolutions is to be more like 2010 justin bieber?”

⁃ “apparently cats don’t lay eggs”

⁃ “thinking about trees- if i saw a tree with a beard mmmmmm...holy shit id hit it”

⁃ “we’re in hell dude. science doesn’t matter here”

⁃ “i cant die i cant die i’m GOD”

⁃ “hey pig your letter is the same as pussy, hmm?”

⁃ “are we cool are we COOL guys? CRYSTAL COOL like CRYSTAL METH”

⁃ “he- he’s crying because - because i killed his mother isn’t that right? mother dearest mother deadest mother gonest”

⁃ “bro ive been drinking since i was six and let me tell you...it’s not good to be drinking that young. led to some poor life decisions when i was 8” “what did you do” “i cant say” “...who did you hurt” “....only myself”

⁃ “je suis” “ay i know what that mean you prick” “what does it mean” “it means you’re racist dickhead”

⁃ “i’d never poo in the presence of a women- which is why i’m scared to get a girlfriend i think i’d just explode”

⁃ “biff tannen is one of my idols”

⁃ “black widow died and i thought ‘wow it should’ve been the man’ because he’s a man”

⁃ “there’s a character called captain america and i think he’s stupid”

⁃ “i’m a GOOD LAD i’ve got GOOD MORALS and if i’ve DONE SOMETHING WRONG it WASNT MY FAULT I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED”

⁃ “sam....what’s the longest you’ve ever wiped your arse? for me it’s 48 minutes”

⁃ “why are you standing in the shitter?” “....that’s a SINK” “uhhh welllll” “hAVE YOU SHAT IN THE SINK?????”

⁃ “you’re like a living ghost” “...i think that’s called a human, tubbo”

⁃ “maybe i accidentally kill ranboo and we just never see him again *laughs* ay? and then i go ‘april foooools!!!’ and then i kill their child. i kill him”

⁃ “you built a penis” “it’s a PENIS OF SAFETY”

⁃ “i saw the penis of safety and i pressed mouse button four my friend”

⁃ “the penis on the other side of the river is larger” “ive heard that before....”

⁃ “you’ve turned the penis into a wall” “a wall of safety is better than a penis of safety” “i think the penis was better”

⁃ “if you wanna make a penis i know where we can make a penis and i know how big we can make it”

⁃ “i don’t conceptualize death but i think i just saw it!”

⁃ “yeah i- yeah i know i’m- my first impression on eret was making him read a shrek fan fiction so- i’m not one for first impressions”

⁃ “i-i’m scared for him- i’m scared OF him. yknow the first thing he did when he saw me was imMEDIATELY strip down then jump off then immediately die?”

⁃ “where are you?” “getting stabbed, one second”

⁃ “you’ve seen the joker?” “yea-“ “i resonate a lot with that man” “...oH. oh. that’s- that’s not-“

⁃ “he bURNT DOWN MY HOUSE” “out of LOVE”

⁃ “ohhhh my god stop making me play with the neighbor kid” “o-okay if you don’t go play with him i’m kicking you out of the house-“ “wHAT THE FUCK???”

⁃ “there’s a STRIP CLUB” “oh yeah for wood!” “are you into strippers?” “i mean all it does is make the wood look different so....yeah it doesn’t really do much”

⁃ “no no we have categories, we have the poo-saster- you might have to take a shower after-“ “no, no i’m gonna stop you right there”

⁃ “as i was saying you can have a 1-to-3 wiper, that’s an A-tier poo, my friend”

⁃ “i want you to eat your sock”

⁃ “you know i’m a child- i’m a minor” “sO AM I DICKHEAD”

⁃ “everyone is calling you dresus” “yeah i am”

⁃ “ayyyy ayyyy los DROGAS LOS DROGAS” “no no big q- she’s thirteen- how does this happen with every 13 year old girl you meet?”

⁃ “my poo has muscles like i do”

⁃ “i cant hear the words among us without crying they’ll say there are aliens among us and in the back youll just hear me *choking noises*”

⁃ “tubbo...tubbo is like...tubbo is like mary” “.....did you just call me the Virgin Mary?”

⁃ “i’m just saying, have you ever seen me and jesus in the same room?”

⁃ “do you smoke sam” “all the time”

⁃ “i thought you were talking about the- the speeeeed drug”

⁃ “have you ever sold drugs to kids sam?” “......no”

⁃ “we can’t let the girlboss rule because she will gatekeepe my feelings” “that would not be good”

⁃ “THEY DIDNT INVITE ME TO KILL ME???? NOW I HAVE FOMO”

⁃ “you have obviously taken part in scientology-“ “i have not-“ “you’ve donated to tom cruises cult shit”

⁃ “....am i worse than david dobrik?” “are- are we worse than david dobrik?” “oh- oh god”

⁃ “he has broke one of the rules of the hit best seller ‘the bible’- this kind of looks like a cock”

⁃ “well i’ve moved now, KING”

⁃ “what is an angsty teen and am i one? because when i USED to hang out with my friends they use the word angst a lot”

⁃ “yeah yeah yeah i bench”

⁃ “sam i think i’m angsty i think i’m an angsty tik tok teen looking for a community to help me out”

⁃ “i don’t think you’ve followed the train of logic all the way-“ “there’s a TRAIN INVOLVED????????”

⁃ “i’m like the orange fucker from that animated rom com”

⁃ “i’m under the influence of big cock”

⁃ “it’s meeee big cock man”

⁃ “i cant look away” “sam please use your twitter alt for this” “he’s horny on maaaainnnnn” “and what’s wrong with that?” “.......”

⁃ “you’re a FUCKING IDIOT” “IM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT, BIG COCK”

⁃ “i’m gonna call you ‘cockity’ big cock” “sHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP-“

⁃ “STOP LOOKING AT IT” “ITS SO VIBRANT”

⁃ “at least this guy doesn’t have a cock-“ “itS NOT A COCK” “horny on main jesus-“

⁃ “is that a cock” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

⁃ “.....i wanna see the inside of it again do a split”

⁃ “okay sam-“ “tommy that guy wants your cock-“ “no- no he doesn’t sam”

⁃ “sam, sam and i need you to hear this....dont. act. up.” “i don’t act up-“ “you were acting up-“ “i-“ “you were caught in 8k.” “but- but we both agree it’s not a tie-“

⁃ “please don’t tell me to kill cockity i am overwhelmed”

⁃ “why is there an anus in my tie?”

⁃ “what are the legal implications of this?” “...i mean besides hell you’re good”

⁃ “whatre the legal implications?” “i mean usually that’s a no-no but today, today it’s fine” “yeahhh lets go murder his family”

⁃ “i’d be an antivax landlord”

⁃ “jesus never does drugs” “well- well you turned water into wine king and wine is alcohol”

⁃ “can you put on pants i can’t- i cant stop looking at it- sorry tommy i know you said-“ “yeah sam i know you tried-“

⁃ “you know i fuck with satan”

⁃ “i’m sorry jesus lucifer is just such a good man-“ “oh you- hold me BACK FROM THIS FUCKER HOLD ME BACK ILL SEND HIM TO HELL YOU LIKE HELL-“

⁃ “are you jesus or just a man who grew a beard and put on a suit?”

⁃ “even the guy with his cock out is telling you to stop-“ “oh jesus, and i mean jesus-“ “shUT THE FUCK UP MAN”

⁃ “the best best way to slander him is to stop his offspring; we need to kick him the balls.....no? not a good....? alright us four each take a ball-“

⁃ “......why did jesus give him four scrotums man🙁🙁”

[bellamyblakru]

fic tag game!🥰thank you for tagging me you lovely humans. ilysm❤️ @sourdough-morbread @shana-rosee sorry it’s taken me so long to actually do it LOL i was suddenly in the mood

how many works do you have on ao3?

30 even😌

what’s your total ao3 word count?

134,532 holy fuck

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

technically two but i am doing an original story so that would make it 3. the 100 and merlin, tho!!

what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooo interesting okay at number one we have: the truth is finally breaking through at 1,148 kudos🥺 two is when the meaning is gone (there is clarity) at 703 kudos, then i’m pretty sure the world is out to get me with 620 kudos, and finally, and lastly, we have the situation is fraught at 510 (which was a surprise to me kakskska) (just realized i did four and cant count but whatever)

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

UH ABSOLUTELY. i am a bit behind, but i try to answer every single comment. they are the reason i write, so being able to respond to them with my gratitude is the least i can do.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

hmm i don’t believe in angsty endings. i do like angsty pain throughout tho.

do you write crossovers? if so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i do not😌but ive been thinking with my discord fam to do a hp merlin crossover soon, so we shall see.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

kinda LOL it was mostly passive aggressive criticism that was anything but helpful. i thought about that one comment so much that now it’s permanently engraved in my head

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

absolutely not🥰 IMAGINE LOL. “they did the no-no act in arthur’s chambers. merlin never felt so 🥵”

have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don’t believe so LOL why would anyone steal my shitty stuff🤪

have you ever had a fic translated?

NO BUT THAT WOULD BE A FUCKING HONOR. god, this would mean i finally made it™️

have you ever co-written a fic before?

almost? but i suck and lose motivation faster than a….something fast that i cant think of. i was gonna say fly, but i dont think thats the saying sksjsksksk however, i might soon with my loves🤪

what’s your all time favourite ship?

tis an evil question 😠 ill have to go merthur but rowaelin is up there as well😌

whats a WIP that you want to finish but dont think you ever will?

all of em🤪

what are your writing strengths?

um bullshitting everything i write. im rlly good at that

what are your writing weaknesses?

ive had a problem with my tenses since i was like 5. my father says “this sentence is in the past, present, and future” and that sums it up LOL i also lose motivation, as i said before, and i suck at dialogue/movements of body.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

ive done it in like merlin magic language, but that was the extent. i think if you can do it, thats badass and you should go for it. im not fluent enough in anything to be comfy with that

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

the 100 (bellarke)

whats your favourite fic you’ve written?

OHOH INTERESTING okay ill actually have to say two. my most kudos fic, the truth is finally breaking through, because!!! i remember fucking enjoying myself the entire time. this was a guilty pleasure fic and i enjoyed writing every fucking second and the fact it is my most liked literally means the world to me. people liking the one i had the most fun writing just really makes me 🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰 (plus i added my ToG ladies in it and i LOVED IT) and the second being the book im writing now because i am in love with my characters and i have incredible friends hyping me about it all the time❤️it wouldn’t be possible without them

tagging!! (no pressure ofcc) @kandi-pendragon @peggysousfan @cosmiicmalex (i went to write tkstrannd again?? its been months what is wrong w me LOL) @voiddrop (my smut legend😏) @merlypops @useralyssa @southfarthing and anyone else🥰