#this shit is like trying to build an entire house out of one giant block of cement

[gunpowdercarousel]

I don't need therapy I need rabid gay people freaking out in my inbox

[mewintheflesh-2]

GB hosts a minecraft server for all the other Mikey’s to play on whenever they want. No creative, most exploits are banned. Has the mod where you get a players head if you kill them.

Mikey lives in a house in the sky OBVIOUSLY. Lots of parrots, ATLEAST 5 of each color. The server lags a lot when he makes them do their silly dances. Keeps a few phantoms as pets too. Has like 5 dragon eggs in his house and will go out of his way to bully any land or sea animal he sees by naming them dinnerbone. Has like 5 shulker boxes full of enchanted elytra. Is the main person everyone goes to when theirs breaks or they lose it after dying.

Nightsky ALSO lives in the sky, but he made a point to build his base higher up than Mikeys just because. and also lives nowhere near him. Refuses to speak with him and if they’re in room together they just keep punching eachother over and over again until someone just brings out their sword and kills the other. Then the other comes back, get their stuff, and the entire thing repeats. Nightsky has more kills on Mikey than Mikey does on him.

When nobody else is online, Fuse just gets on and does the weirdest shit to everyone’s bases. Puts villagers name tagged dinnerbone in peoples living rooms tied to the ceilings with chains. Red stone as blood across all the floors. Builds weird secret lab rooms in their homes. Kills all their villagers and steals their animals for himself.

Merryweather made his base in a cherry blossom biome, with a dark, Victorian aesthetic. Got GB to add in a gambling mod just cause.

Vamps made his home in a woodland mansion that was conveniently close to spawn. Killed everything inside and just took it over. He likes to fly around a lot at night. Almost uses as much elytra as Mikey does. Also has a hoard of bats he keeps as pets :) Got GB to add in a mod to add in a rare item in game that allows you to transform into a bat and fly around like a little freak.

McCoy has tried to blow up everyone (except Moro’s) bases with TNT. For some reason Marius’s and Fuse’s bases ended up with the most damages

Speaking of McCoy and Moro, they both live together!! They live in a winter spruce biome :) McCoy originally didn’t have a base, but Moro offered him to live in his house, and they’ve just lived together since. Their house is very cozy and winter themed. Moro even built an ice rink by their house just for funsies. GB ended up modding in hot chocolate literally just for them as a little gift.

Also speaking of Marius, he lives in the middle of the ocean. Made his own artificial island beach resort. Most of the others enjoy just popping in every once in a while, but McCoy and Moro avoid it like the plague. Which isn’t hard considering how far it is from spawn and their base.

Also speaking of Fuse’s house, It’s just a 50 chunk wide underground lab. Nothing too big :). Every weird thing you can do with mobs you can fucking think of. Somehow has an entire 15 shulker boxes full of bedrock, and 50 shulker boxes full of netherite blocks.

Keeps all his stolen animals in weird decrepit rooms with zombies and shit in them. If you want your animal back you’re going to have to let him kill you so he can put your head on his giant wall of everyone’s player heads. And also give him netherite. Has an entire shrine of himself as the centrepiece of the main lab room. If you go into the lab you’re going to have to die and lose your items to get out.

Had a weird hallway of armour stands that hold the armour and more heads of the people he’s killed. If you try to steal it back he will blow up your base and steal all your items.

Once he farmed for a whole bunch of charged creepers to the point where anytime anyone ever looked in the direction of the room housing them, their game would crash. He ended up releasing them out into the wild one day, and for the next month you could not go an hour without someone being killed by one. GB and Nightsky had to go out of their way to kill all of the ones they could find because they just got so fucking tired of dying to them. They ended up dying like 15 times in the process, 12 times for GB, 3 times for Nightsky.

Will hit anyone hes talking to with a sword atleast once in their conversation. It’s like a weird custom at this point except he gets very mad if you do it back. Will chase you down and kill you if you do.

Has a shulker box full of spawners for each type that can spawn in the wild. Will fill your house with cave-spider spawners if you make him mad enough.

There’s about 5 redstone masters on the server. Nightsky, Marvin, McCoy, Mellan, and Fuse.

I like to imagine GB’s just out trying to solve an anomaly that’s been plaguing many different universes and he just gets a text saying “Hey, Fuse is trying to kill all your animals.” And he’s just like “God fucking dammit not again.”

Moss, Mellan, and DL all live in the same house, but have here different houses they switch between living in periodically. Moss lives in your standard tall birch forest, lives next to a lush cave biome, Mellan lives on top of a mountain (he made his entire base into a fucking rave house), and DL lives in a dark oak/mushroom biome.

Moss is also one of the main farmers on the server. Has 50 shulker boxes full of golden carrots. And another 50 full of golden apples.

Mellan will always hide the weirdest shit in anyone’s bases that he visits. Not Fuse level weird but still weird nonetheless. Built a giant penis on top of Fuse’s lab just because.

Maharth “does not have time for minecraft” so he does not play on the server unfortunately and also fortunately for him

Mirri is a cosmic being and does not know how minecraft works. He tried to play once! But he broke the computer just with his mind after getting very frustrated with not understanding the game or technology. Whoopsie!! He ended up not coming back to earth for like a month after that because he felt bad about it. Also accidentally removed an entire 5 chunks of land in the process of breaking the computer. I think Mirri and GB are good friends :)

Marvin has a room in Fuse’s lab he can just come and crash in. Speaking of Marvin! His house is very redstone powered. Like, everything. Almost everything is automated, had farms for almost everything you can think of. You need any mob drops? He’s got you covered. Sugar cane? Sand? He’s got plenty! Life totems? Oh he has more than he knows what to do with.

Got GB to mod in trains into the game jsut so he could build a railway line to everyone’s bases (except for Mikey’s and Nightsky’s, kind of. The rail line just lead to a nearby spot to their bases.)

This has lead to all sorts of shenanigans as you might be able to tell with the nature of the rest of this post. The railways have been blown up like 70 times AT LEAST. Marvin kept having to fix them and he got very frustrated with everyone about it. GB ended up having to make them indestructible, but that didn’t stop people from just putting bedrock on top of them *coughcough*Fuchsia*coughcough*

Mrithun’s house!! Potion brewing lab. Whatever you need, he spot you, just give him some diamonds and you’re good to go. Has 5 shulker boxes full of each type of potion.

MANTIS!! He’s a bee farmer obviously. Has accidentally killed many people with his bees before. Prime person for any honey you might need. His bees keep accidentally ending up in everyone’s bases which is weird considering how far away some of them are from him. He swears he didn’t do it, and he didn’t, but like half the server thinks he did and he’s just fucking with them. Owns like 500 bees.

Once, all of his bees dissapeared. He asked around the server with no answer until he got to Fuse’s lab, which upon opening the door, he was swarmed by hundreds of bees. He put in chat “Found my bees.” And Fuse responded with just a smiley emoticon. It took him like a week to get them all back to his farm.

Magnus!! The one who defeated the ended dragon by himself when nobody else was online. Everyone was very upset to the point GB had to make sure that it respawned just so everyone who wanted to could have a chance to defeat it themselves. Among those, Nightsky and Mikey were not included. His house is very mystical, has a shit ton of amethyst block adorning the walls, floors, and ceilings all over his base. Also farms skulk and uses it in his house as well. Looks like a wizards house on the outside. A lot of purple and magenta stained glass and a lot of sea lanterns. Also!! A lot of items from the lush cave biomes.

[seat-safety-switch]

It's crazy that air conditioning is now considered to be an essential requirement for survival. This glorious miracle technology, produced so that Southerners could live comfortably in weather approximating the surface of Hell, is spreading everywhere. And there's one thing I don't like about it: it costs actual money.

Now, there's lots of fabulous trashy ways to cool your living space. Swamp coolers are a superlative example of this. If you blow air over a cool block of ice, then the air becomes cool. Physicists have spent their entire lives trying to explain exactly why this works, but it does. There's a problem with this, too: you need some sort of machine capable of making a giant fucking chunk of frozen water. Then, for whatever reason, you decide not to live within that machine.

Here's my proposal: most modern cars come complete with air conditioning. Sure, it often doesn't work very well, thanks to a conspiracy between rubber manufacturers and the auto industry to make seals that wear out and leak after a mere 25 years of holding back caustic chemicals in a system that has never been maintained. Usually, however, the air conditioning system still outlives some other part of the car. This is especially true for German luxury cars, which will receive their first four-digit maintenance bill as soon as the dealership does an oil change. So you go to the junkyard, and pull the whole system out of the newest-looking piece of four-ring trash you can find.

Now, we're back to the very same energy-input problem that confounds the humble swamp cooler. We need to spin the air-conditioning compressor really fast, or it won't compress, and if it doesn't compress... cold air no go, for a reason that I totally know and won't go into detail in this article, in the interest of brevity. Luckily for us, my house is next to a 24-hour gym, with a series of treadmills. What's even luckier is that the treadmills are very close to the wall of the building, making it possible for anyone with a borrowed concrete-foundation drill bit to rig up a simple driveshaft/transfer-case/reduction-gear system. Now, when folks pay money so they can stop sweating outside in order to sweat inside, they're helping keep me from having to sweat inside. And all it cost was several hundred dollars in Pick-N-Pull fees, because it's too hot to throw all that shit over the fence into the ditch and pick it up later.

[junisfics]

All This Time — Armin Arlert (1)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: After Armin receives a disturbingly vague message from his best friend, he shows up to her house only to find her drunk and needy

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Fantasies

You met Armin in your freshman year of high school. You had gone to separate middle schools, but those two schools fed into your then high school and you became classmates. You shared a band class together, Armin played clarinet and you played the piano. The entire band was split between two periods, you and Armin’s seventh period consisted of woodwinds while the other period held brass… percussion was split evenly between the two periods. 

That was the first game of chance.

The second one was after-school practice sessions with Mr. Steunberg. Apparently, Armin was struggling with sight-reading just as much as you were, so you were paired together for practice lessons on Mondays. And every Monday for the second semester of freshman year, you and Armin played your instruments in that little sound booth while your music teacher corrected you from outside.

Eventually, the twenty minutes between the end of school and the beginning of lessons was being shared between the two of you rather than each of you hiding off down some hallway. You had decided to come down the band hall early, conveniently at the same time Armin had as well. 

It started with one of you asking if the other had a certain teacher, followed by asking if they had completed the night’s assignment for that class. Over time, the floor distance between you two closed and you’d sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor just outside the booth, knee to knee, sharing snacks before Mr. Steunberg made his way from his History class and down to the band hall. You’d work on homework together and laugh over the squeaking mistakes from the neighboring booths.

Just around the time when you and Armin began to grow comfortable with each other, your organized lessons had stopped and your blooming friendship had been put on pause. Neither of you missed it too much, you barely knew each other, but you still smiled at each other in the halls and occasionally talked before your shared class if there was time, but there really wasn’t.

It was like that for a while; little waves, sentence-long conversations, awkward silences followed by equally as awkward good-byes. It was months before you ever talked the same way you had in that little hallway.

It wasn’t like you craved his presence. Christ, you would completely forget about him if you didn’t see him every day in class. But when he came up to you at the end of the day one day while you were sitting on the piano bench, waiting for the final bell to ring, you couldn’t help but smile.

You still remember the shirt he was wearing, how he pushed those thin-rimmed glasses he still wore up his nose as he talked with you, “Can you help me with sight-reading? I don’t wanna tell my mom I need lessons again and I’m embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

Of course, you had said yes to him, you wouldn’t be pulling your phone out in the middle of the night in the peak of summer to text him while you’re shit-faced to text him if you hadn’t.

Your practicing together turned into practicing and doing homework together, which turned into getting off track and watching YouTube videos together. Then came the hanging out outside of homework and lessons; goofing off at either of your neighborhood parks, walking down the road to get fast-food, running around in a grocery store because there was nothing else to do in the suburbs.

There wasn’t an exact moment where you agreed that you were best friends, it just happened. You were always there for him whenever he got pushed around by the baseball boys, when his parents got divorced and his grandfather moved in, when he got his acceptance letter to the college of his choice; and he was there for you for your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak, he was there when your dog was lost for five days… he being the one that found her, and when you got your acceptance letter, he was the one sitting next to you with open arms.

There were moments when you found yourselves distancing; when you got into little arguments. But at the end of the day, the love that each of you had for each other was stronger than anything. You always came back to him, and he to you. 

No matter how many times you broke his heart by flirting with him just to hook up with some random guy at a party the same day, told him that he was your ‘best friend’, talking about how he was ‘like a brother’ to you, he couldn't leave you and he couldn’t stop loving you.

Armin would do anything for you and you would do anything for Armin. This is why when he got your messages in the dead of the night, he was over to your apartment before he could even text back.

‘armin’ ‘come over’ ‘help’ ‘need help’

Every second between the moment he got your messages until he reached your door, he was mortified. His heart was pounding out of his chest, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering while swerving around corners recklessly, eyes flitting over your parking lot to try and find anything out of the ordinary.

He almost tripped on the curb of the sidewalk while running up to your building. He was whipping open doors and frantically pressing elevator buttons as his keys still jangled in his hands, he didn’t even think to shove them into his pockets. His eyes bore into the red, electric lettering at the frame of the elevator, watching the numbers increase with his hand pressing against the metal doors like it’ll somehow make it go faster.

Once he reaches your door, he knocks frantically, jolts of pain shooting through his knuckles as he does so.

And you’re right at the door waiting for him. You tug it open the second you hear him outside of it, a giant smile of relief on your face.

“Oh my god! Thank god you’re here! I was going to pass out from waiting so long,” You giggle, grabbing ahold of his forearm that was still outstretched from knocking and pulling him inside.

It took him a moment to realize that you’re alright, that you’re standing right there in front of him, unharmed and unscathed, with his sweatshirt pulled over you, the one he gave you before leaving for university. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you grab at his arms to bring him forward, stumbling back over your own feet in the process which just sends you into another fit of giggles.

You had a slight sheen of sweat over your face and neck, not a lot, just enough so when your head turned to look behind you the kitchen lights bounced against the gloss on your skin. You didn’t have pants on as well, just these light grey boy-short panties that completely exposed the length of your legs.

It wasn’t like Armin hasn’t seen you in a swimsuit before. Many times your parents had taken you on trips to a lake where you would go tubing and swimming for hours on end until you were both drained of all your energy. But seeing you in, presumably, nothing but his sweatshirt and panties that bared your thighs and bottom curves of your ass had him far more flabbergasted than a swimsuit ever could.

“You’re — you’re okay?” He asks, voice still wavering with concern as you continue to drag him towards the kitchen.

“Absolutely not!” You sound serious, “I need help… with making my dessert.” Your faux serious tone falls apart and you’re choking back another wave of laughter.

Armin watches you incredulously but intently as you slide your hands down his forearms until both of your hands meet his own, giving them a squeeze before spinning around and gripping the kitchen island’s counter.

You have an array of stainless steel bowls crowded beside each other while a mixture of dry baking goods sits unstirred in one of the bowls. You shuffle through the measuring cups and spoons before picking up a large wooden spoon and holding it up to Armin, presenting it to him, like you’ve found a block of gold.

When you turn away from him, he looks over the state of the kitchen. Sugar and flour remnants cover the countertops, series of baking instruments litter them as well, and on the kitchen table is a bottle of vodka.

And then it hits him; you’re playful nature, unpredictability, clumsiness, and intimacy.

“Are you drunk?” He asks you. He isn’t disappointed, or angry, just slightly taken aback.

You bring your head up from the bowl and tilt your head side to side like you were thinking over his question, “A little.”

It was much more than ‘a little’. Before you had even started drinking you were in a playful mood. You had just gotten the offer for a summer job for lifeguarding at the apartment complex’s pool and you thought to celebrate by binging your favorite television show and having a few shots. Then, a few shots turned to many and you were dancing around your living room while having the time of your life before you had settled on making yourself some food. ‘Another celebration’ you had convinced yourself.

But the measuring and the mixing were too hard and who else was there to call other than your best friend?

“Oh my god.” Armin smiles, shaking his head at you and making his way towards you as you continue to mix at god-knows-what you’ve put into that bowl, “You need actual food, not whatever you’re making here.”

You let go of the spoon, letting out a little huff of frustration at his words, scrunching your nose real cutely as you turn towards him. You take the front of his tee-shirt in your hands, gently fiddling with the fabric as you pout.

“I want dessert, Armin.” You whine, bringing your head forward to rest your cheek on his chest. Your chest was pressing against his torso, bare legs knocking against his own.

“’Tomorrow-You’ is going to thank me for not letting you have dessert.” He awkwardly brings one of his hands to your back, patting it a few times before letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades.

“Please?” You whisper, tilting your head up until he can feel your tiny breaths against his chin. Armin hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat begins to pick up in his chest at your close proximity.

“No… No, I’ll — I’ll make you toast or something, how does that sound?” He suggests, snaking his hands between the two of you to gently nudge you off him.

But the space between the two of you is quickly closed when your slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, “Don’t want toast.” You murmur, standing up on the tips of your toes to get in his eye-line. Your nose was only a breath away from his.

Armin carefully takes your wrists in his hands, taking your arms off him as he stammers out, “Well, you’re going to have toast.”

You let out another noise of frustration as you pull yourself away from him, your hands balling into fists at your sides while he pulls open your fridge for the loaf of bread on the top shelf. You watch him with your head tilted in fascination like you’ve never seen bread before, admiring the way his hair falls into his eyes as his pretty hands unwrap the plastic sleeve of the loaf then tug the toaster away from the counter backsplash.

He truly was so beautiful. You always contained your attraction towards him so well, but now your restraint was slipping.

You prance over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back as he slides two slices of bread from the loaf. His skin is so warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves his arms, his abdominal muscles twitching as well in reaction to your fingertips skimming over them.

God, he’s so fucking nervous. 

Why is he so nervous? 

Because you’re all over him in just panties and his shirt when he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember. You’re being so touchy, so intimate with him, he’s afraid he might explode.

“Go sit down. Can’t — can’t help you if you’re in my way.” He says. Oh but he could help you, he could help you even if you were hanging on him like a spider monkey, he’s just afraid you’ll realize your effect on him if you do so.

“I just wanna be close to you. You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your head under his left arm until you and slip your whole body under it and stand ever so slightly in front of him, wedged between his torso and the countertop.

Your hands play with the hem of his shirt as you look up to him, your eyes glossy, and your pupils were blown. Armin tries his best to keep himself subtly distanced from you, but it’s no use. Every time he inches away, you’re just back on him. 

You’re sliding your hands up his chest, fingers tracing over his jaw and cheekbones as you cling to his side. He can feel your hips knocking against his, your thighs rubbing against his as you shift around to try and get closer. Your fingers follow along the curves of his neck, tracing down his throat then skimming over his collarbones.

“Sit here then. Sit on the counter.” Armin grabs ahold of your torso and pushes you against the counter, the edge of it rutting into the small of your back. You grab ahold of his biceps and let out a flirty little giggle at what his actions could be insinuating.

Your fingers press into the plush muscle of his arms as he strains to lift you, your heels grappling at the cabinets below you to try and aid him. His waist ends up slipped between your knees when you’re finally seated, and you can feel your body flush hot with arousal.

You were already sweating from the exertion you had put forward before he had arrived, but the added closeness with Armin was just driving you crazy.

“Now sit, and stay.” Armin places his hands in front of you to enforce his directions.

You giggle a few times, smiling at the fact that he’s treating you like a dog, “Woof.” 

Armin slips his waist out from your knees to come to your left slide, plucking the now toasted bread from the toaster and setting it on a napkin. He pulls open the drawer to his right for a butter knife, then snatches the butter from the island and brings it to your toast. 

His hands shake as he pulls the glass top of the butter dish, they shake as he dips the knife into the butter, and continues to shake as he spreads the butter over the first piece of toast. He can feel your thigh brushing against his hip as you swing your legs.

You begin to breathe heavier, the heat of exhaustion and heat of arousal begin to grow overwhelming. You fan your face a few times, pushing your hair off your neck, before grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up and over your head.

“What — what are you doing?” Armin stammers, taking a tiny step away from you.

You absentmindedly fold the sweatshirt before setting it aside to fan your face again, “It’s so hot… I think it’s you, Armin.”

You can see his face flush red this time, his ears as well, turning his cheeks and nose a pretty pink shade that doesn’t help your problem.

Armin tries to ignore you, he really does, but it’s so difficult because now you’re in this skimpy little tank top with spaghetti straps. And the straps are slipping off your shoulders and Jesus fucking christ you’re not wearing a bra. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting over your scantily clad figure, drinking in the way your thighs squish against the counter, the curve of your ass as it’s pressed to the granite, the way your nipples tease the thin fabric of your skin.

“Have I ever told you that? That you’re so fine?” You giggle, running a finger down his bicep as he finishes buttering your toast. You’re so grateful that he’s got that stupid white tee shirt on, the one that keeps your gaze lingering over the lean muscle in his chest and back.

“Um, n — no. Toast is done, hop down.” He refuses to make eye contact because if he does, he’s scared he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you.

“Help.” You pout, reaching out your hands and grabbing for his shoulders.

Armin listens to your plea, setting the toast back down and grabbing ahold of your waist to slide you off the counter. But instead of bringing your feet to the floor, you wrap your legs around his waist and hook your arms around his neck. You have to tilt your head down to look into his eyes, only to see his pupils blown and lashes fluttering as he blinks.  He doesn’t push you off him. Instead, he uses his left hand to snatch the food off the counter while his right hand comes to brace your lower back. 

He’s afraid he’s going to have a heart attack now; feeling your thighs wrapped around him, your cunt hovering just right over his growing cock, your back arching your chest so close to his face that he swears if he looked down he would get a perfect view of your tits, your parted lips all glossy, breath fanning over the bridge of his nose as you run your fingers over the curves of his pretty pink lips.

Fuck. He was definitely getting off to this later.

You’re giggling all the while, and to an extent, you know exactly the effect you have on him. It’s cute, the way he stumbles around your house and trying to keep his footing as he brings you to your bedroom. 

“C’mon, Armin. At least take me on a date first,” You tease as he kneels down to bring your backside to the foot of the bed. Once your legs release his waist, he stands again.

“I’m — I’m not trying — we’re not —” He stutters, bringing his hands forward again like he’s scared you’ll pounce on him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Armin wants nothing more in the entire world than to have you beneath him, to have his cock sheathed inside you, to have you moan out his name as you cum around his cock…

But he couldn’t let it happen like this.

You were drunk, so so drunk. And you probably didn’t even know what you were saying.

“We can if you want to.” You speak softly, your knees knocking together as you settle into your seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap as if you got all shy all of a sudden.

And when you look up to him through your lashes, brows furrowed slightly in a pout, Armin almost caves. But he catches himself just as fast, shoving your toast in front of you like it’s a shield.

Your eyes shift down to the food that’s presented before you, and your pout turns into a cute little smile as you daintily take it from his hands. You let the napkin rest in your left palm as you hold the food in your right, immediately taking a little bite out of it.

“You want some water?” Armin asks, still standing in front of you.

You give him a nod without looking up, taking another bite out of the toast while he fills up the cup that he knew rested beside your bathroom sink. As he stands in front of the mirror he takes a moment to breathe in and out deeply as the water fills the cup.

You were going to be the death of him.

“You know, I mean it when I say you’re attractive,” He hears you say, still sitting all obediently on your bed and waiting for him to return, “Everyone’s like, ‘oh Armin got so hot!’, but I always thought you were cute… you just got so — nnghh — in the past year.”

He returns with your glass of water, holding it out to you as you finish chewing. You take it from him gently, holding it in both your hands, careful not to drop it, as you take little sips.

He knew you were being irrational, but he truly hopes you mean what you say.

When you finish drinking, you pat your hand against the mattress as you set your cup to the floor. You want him close again, want the warmth he radiates both physically and spiritually. Armin listens to your ask and sits beside you carefully, running his hands over his thighs as you pull your legs up on the mattress and cross them under you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You ask, voice getting tiny again.

That was real… that question… he’s so sure of it. You were always insecure about your looks when you had no reason to be, but he had no idea that you cared what he thought about you.

“I — um… I — I don’t think my — my opinion matt —” He tries to get it to come out sounding right, but the moment he opens his mouth he already knows he’s failed terribly.

“Do… do you not think I’m pretty?” He can hear the feeling of betrayal in your voice, you turn your head away from him.

“No! No, y/n, I think you’re really pretty —”

You grab ahold of his shirt collar and tug him towards you as you let your back fall to the mattress. His torso comes over you and his hand shoots out beside your head to keep him from falling atop you. He can’t even bring himself to pull off of you, because your noses are touching and he can feel your knees knocking against the left side of his waist.

“I — you’re — God, y/n you’re so pretty. Don’t ever think I don’t think that.” He breathes, trying so hard to your lips from touching, for his own sake.

Your mouth splits into a smile and a little laugh escapes your lips. Your free hand grabs ahold of his shirt as well, assuring both you and him that he isn’t going anywhere. You look down to his lips, slightly parted as he pants heavily to keep his composure.

“No, but you don’t understand,” You keep your eyes on his lips, fighting the desire to kiss him, “You’re so fucking hot.”

Armin’s breath gets caught in his throat because you had spoken that in a borderline whimper. Your bottom lip had been taken between your teeth after you finished speaking, and he swears he could see your back arch slightly.

It was completely visible now, how much you needed him. You were holding onto him for dear life, your thighs were squeezing together and your arched back had your stomach brushing against his. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, irises filled with lust and hunger.

Armin’s so grateful that your legs are to his side and now wrapped around his waist again because he would not have been able to stop himself from grinding down against you… it would have been completely involuntary.

“And — and don’t tell anyone this but sometimes… sometimes I get off to you,” You bring your voice to a whisper as you reveal your secret, lifting your head to move closer to him. He can feel your lips brush against his as you speak, “Actually... like all the time.”

Armin lets out an audible exhale, his jaw slacking at your revelation, he has to shut his eyes again.

“Do you get off to me too?” You ask. And you speak like you didn’t just reveal that to him, bringing your head back down to the mattress and smiling.

Of course he does. Of course he does. 

Junior year of high school you offered to be his first kiss, just for fun, ‘cause you were friends, right? And you wanted to help him get it over with. 

But every night since then, Armin has gotten off to you; laid back in his bed with his cock in his fist, and whispering your name as he cums.

“I — we’re best friends — y/n, I —”

“Best friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Armin.” You say, your voice losing all its playfulness and growing serious like you had suddenly become sober.

You stare into his pretty blue eyes for a moment, letting your own flit between the two of his. You were watching for any change in his expression, any look of disgust or repulsion, but you don’t find any. He just keeps that same incredulous, lust-filled look on his face.

He looks over you as well. Your eyes were still so droopy and hazy, your lips parted like you’re manually breathing. You were so drunk that it almost hurt him. You weren’t going to remember a single thing in the morning, and the two of you would be back to square one because Armin would never be able to repeat to you what you said to him or admit his searing desire for you.

Armin can feel your grip on his shirt tighten once more, and instead of lifting your head to him, you pull him down to you.

“I need you,” You whisper, voice shaking with arousal, “Fuck me... please.”

Armin swallows hard, his arms beginning to shake under his weight. He was going to fucking explode. He needed a break, just a moment, anything so he can catch his breath and regain some of his composure.

Christ, he was so fucking hard. If you were sober, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to rip off both of your clothes and push his cock inside you.

“I can’t — you’re drunk,” He murmurs, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. You can hear the fact that he truly wanted to do what you begged him for.

“No, Armin, I want it. I need it. I mean it, I swear.” You plead, your hands pawing at his shirt like he was attempting to get away from you and you wanted him to stay. But Armin was set put, he wasn’t moving, he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

“I need your cock.”

“Not — not now. You need to sleep this off. You’re… you’re not yourself right now,” He takes his eyes off yours, closing them once more and squeezing them shut.

“I’ve — I’ve always wanted you though. Always, I promise.” You continue, hoping that somehow you’ll convince him.

It was true. You wish he could understand how true it was. All the guys you had gotten with after-parties, after football games… they were all just replacements, they were fill-ins for him. You would pretend that it was him that was filling you up, gripping your hips and whispering dirty things against your ear. And for seconds at a time, it would work and you would convince yourself that Armin was right there with you.

And every time you would see him helping another girl with school work, see them flirting with him and getting touchy with him, playing with his glasses or drawing shapes on his hands with a pen… this disgusting feeling would churn around in your stomach and bubble up into your throat. And although Armin was oblivious to their flirting, it still hurt so fucking bad.

“I’ve always wanted you too… just — just not like this. Just sleep it off, okay? And — and then we’ll talk.” His left hand wraps around your waist while his right switches to brace beside your head. He grabs ahold of your torso and shimmies you up the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He sits back on his calves, his left arm sliding out from under you while his right hand brushes your messy hair out of your face before petting your head.

“And, and you’ll fuck me in the morning?” You ask, completely genuine.

Armin swallows hard again, pulling himself away from you and helping you slide your body under your sheets, “If — if you still want me to.”

You look up to him with your eyes full of admiration as he smoothes the sheets over your body, “I’ll always want you to.”

It comes out sounding much more intimate than it actually is to say that ‘you’ll always want Armin to fuck you’. And Armin lets his eyes meet yours again, matching the love that’s filled them.

He smiles to hide the doubt he has inside his chest. In the morning, you’ll either regret every word and ghost him or you’ll forget everything you’ve admitted. Both options made Armin’s heart hurt, but he decides that you leaving him would be the worst of the two. He wouldn’t know what to do if you’d never talk to him again. So for now, he truly hopes you forget.

Armin pulls his hands away from you, shuffling his knees on the bed to get off of it. But before he can bring his feet to the ground, you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Stay, please.” You ask, your eyes struggling to stay open. He wonders if you even know that you’re talking.

He listens to you anyway, bringing his hand down to the mattress as he slips himself under the sheets and next to you. And if he wasn’t sure about staying before, he sure was now because you were so warm and so soft as you shimmied back against him. You take his arm and sling it over your waist, letting his palm splay out over your stomach. You can feel every rise of his chest against your back.

You were going to doze off so easily, he was so warm, he was so comforting. You could feel sleep beginning to creep up on you quickly. But before you let it take over, you slide your hand back and between your bodies to grab the source of the hard thing poking into your ass.

“You’re so hard,” You giggle.

Armin chokes on his breath again and grabs your wrist to pull your hand off his dick, “Stop. Go — go to bed.”

You listen this time, retracting your hand to slip it over his that rests on your stomach, interlacing your fingers as you succumb to your exhaustion.

[quotes-ig]

i think the ‘minor’ characters (those who aren’t involved in main storylines at the time) are one of the best parts of the dream smp

like, imagine being Callahan. you’ve been on the server for a while, but aren’t often online. one day you decide hey, why not log on for a bit, and you end up having a really great time! you meet up with your friend, George, and build a house together! it’s a cute little hobbit hole, with a mushroom aesthetic. George decides to visit the nearby country, L’Manburg, for a bit. you follow. the city is a hollowed out, smoking crater. now you’re fighting two withers. a homicidal anarchist yells at you and accuses you of starting a government. you decide to log out. later, you hear your friend George has become the king.

or, alternatively, you’re Connor. you log into the server, and continue the process of making your new nation next to that weird L’Manburg place. at some point, you get a dog. next thing you know, two floating bamboo sticks fly past, dragging an angry llama behind them. a random dog starts breeding with your own, and an invisible presence steals the child. the ghost of the llama calls itself Clarencio and starts yelling/flirting/spitting at you. you decide you don’t like this minecraft server. you log off.

or how about you’re lazarbeam. you don’t play minecraft much, and initially don’t expect to spend much time on the server, but turns out you actually put a lot of time into building a retirement home. you hang out with an anarchist and start a religion, but mostly just vibe with your melons. then, one day, you log on and the former vice president is wearing a bloodstained apron and cowering on a giant stack of dirt blocks, a pack of angry dogs circling below him. you decide to watch for a moment, the dogs ignoring you entirely, and you see a disembodied ender pearl yeet the vice president down into the angry pack. he is mauled to death. you decide you didn’t see anything. later, you realise someone has stolen your pet polar bear. the anarchist tries to trick you and a demon into helping the dogs murder a child. you yell at them to get off your lawn.

like, these moments are some of the funniest in the SMP. hbomb just building elaborate obstacle courses and managing to be the only one to kill Technoblade. Ponk running through a battlefield with no idea what’s going on, while Dream and Tommy wait awkwardly. Antfrost just wanting to get netherite and being taken hostage by two fugitives, who force him to mine cobblestone for an ugly tower then murder him twice, erasing his memories. Skeppy just trying to make a skywars map and ending up being eaten and possessed by a red alien egg to save his friends from its mind control powers.

good shit

[blackbird0blog]

Uchiha Madara’s Guide to Defending Your Chastity

Madara doesn’t know where this absolute maniac came from, but he had quickly established himself as the most frightening thing to walk the land.

It isn't the man’s bowl cut – which made Hashirama’s boyhood hairstyle look fashionable – that's so terrible. Nor is it his green leotard and legwarmer combo – a look that should be banned from all corners of the world – that makes Madara so wary. And yes, his eyebrows are a bit alarming, but he's dealt with worse things before.

No, that would all ordinarily be fine; Madara’s ignored many people dressed strangely before, and while Gai’s style certainly takes the cake, he could ignore him too.

And he would – if only the man would stop stalking him wherever he goes, popping up when you least except him to like an overly persistent rash, yelling out how one day, he Maito Gai, Konoha’s Sublime Green Beast of Prey, will marry Uchiha Madara - and together they will live out the Springtime of their Youths for the rest of their years!!

Madara doesn’t know from which layer of hell Gai crawled out of, but he would give his very soul to just make him stop.

Hashirama finds Gai’s persistent proposals romantic because of course he does; Hashirama is as big a freak as this guy and why couldn’t he be the one to deal with all of this shit? Why is Madara friends with him in the first place? 

Why is this happening to him, just – why? 

…

Madara can’t even beat him up to make him leave, because whatever else Gai is, he’s also the most incredible taijutsu expert Madara has ever met, and is unbelievably adept at fighting sharingan users.

The one time he tries, it only makes the man even more enthusiastic, and the subsequent spiel about his youthful vigour and coming at him with such flaming passion had caused Madara to flee back to the Uchiha compound, not emerging for an entire week.

He spends that time looking up old mission records for any mentions of the madman, because Madara would swear it was as if Gai had spent years creating a style to counter the sharingan.

But his search comes up empty – none of the clan have ever seen him and Maito Gai is unforgettable, even without the photographic memory granted to them by their doujutsu.

(Unless… unless they had encountered him and never had the guts to admit they’d been beaten by a man screaming about enjoying the springtime of his youth at the top of his lungs.  

If so, Madara will find out and when he does, his revenge will be legendary.)

Madara tries fobbing him off on Hashirama –

“Hashirama is indeed most youthful! But I would never try to interfere with the beautiful love he shares with Mito-san!”

– and even Tobirama –

Gai pauses just long enough to raise his hopes. 

“Tobirama is incredibly hip and cool, but he is far too similar to my eternal rival Kakashi, who is my best friend!

"So have no fear, Madara,” Gai beams, blinding white teeth shining and the sun gleaming off his bowl cut. “My heart is as steadfast as my muscles!” 

And he then flexes, his skin-tight bodysuit turning the innocent movement obscene.  Madara chokes and has to avert his eyes. 

“Destiny has brought us together; I am yours for life!”

- to no avail.

The worst part of it all is he can’t even run away – him, Uchiha Madara – since the man is a stamina freak of never-before-seen proportions.

Instead, he must suffer his presence. Every. Single. Day.

“Yosh! Madara! Today I will get you to go on a date with me or else I will build a hundred houses for the Uchiha clan!”

“Madara! Let us get to know one another and bask in the shared strength of our passion!”

“Today I will get Madara to acknowledge my feelings with the burning, all-consuming power of YOUTH!”

This is how Madara is awoken, at dawn, to the deafening bellows of Maito Gai’s daily proposals.

Madara valiantly holds out a week before snapping.

He tries to bludgeon the other man to death with his giant war fan, to which Gai promptly rejoices, blocking his blows with the nunchucks he’s pulled out of nowhere, face nearly splitting from the force of his grin.

Madara releases a Great Fire Annihilation jutsu, enormous clouds of destruction sweeping over the landscape, and Gai dodges it all with a shouted: “SPLENDID!”

He summons the kyuubi – the greatest of the bijuu, a demon filled with all the world’s hatred – and tries to flatten him. The green-clad taijutsu master beams as if he’s met an old friend, and proceeds to do… something, spontaneously combusting on the spot.

Madara honestly believes in that moment that Gai’s body hadn’t been able to contain his Gai-ness and simply gave out.

It is not to be, and the man runs literal rings around them, cheerfully dodging bijuudama and scolding the twelve-story fox as if it’s a child throwing a tantrum. Madara doesn’t know who gained more trauma in that fight; him, or the kyuubi.

They wind up destroying the entire forest on the village’s northern side, as well as creating a new valley several miles from the settlement.

The fight ends with Madara having exhausted his considerable chakra reserves, and Gai - looking sooty and drenched in sweat - but infuriatingly, impossibly still alive. 

He even has the temerity to look ecstatic, beaming like the fool Madara knows he’s not. At this point, the Uchiha is convinced he had burned down his home, killed Gai’s family and friends, then proceeded to sit atop the ruins, smirking at him.

This is all an extremely sadistic method of revenge; it must be.

When a collection of Konoha shinobi inevitably arrive to see why new maps will have to be drawn, Gai beams at Hashirama, bright and blinding and so cheerful it fills Madara with existential dread.

“Madara is one of the most youthful shinobi I have ever met! The sweat dripping from our brows, the movement of our bodies against one another, the burn in our lungs – MADARA AND I HAVE BEEN ENJOYING OUR SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH TO THE FULLEST!” Gai roars. Loudly.

Madara chokes on air and his face flushes straight past red and into purple.

“You – don’t say it like that you bastard!” Madara splutters, and gods he can feel his ears burning.

This… this shameless filthy liar is insinuating things about them.

Hashirama looks absolutely thrilled and is one step away from sobbing gross, happy tears all over him. Mito looks like all her dreams have come true and gazes upon Gai like he is the gift that keeps on giving. Tobirama is utterly gobsmacked, and any other time Madara would have gleefully savoured the expression on the Senju’s face.

But all he can feel – beyond the exhaustion in his muscles and the humiliation from the stares – is a sinking feeling of complete and utter dismay.

He knows in his bones that this is not the end.

Madara has never once wished more fiercely that he wasn’t terrible at earth jutsu, just so he could command the ground to rise up and swallow him whole.

When Maito Gai finds himself back in the Warring States Era, it’s easy to decide that he’s going to save the world. It’s a bit harder to decide how he’s going to do this, but Gai will figure it out. The Uchiha have always suffered from the Curse of Hatred, so logically, Love should cancel it out, right? 

In which Gai seduces Madara with the power of youth, inadvertently raunchy proposals, and his gorgeous, blinding grin.

This is part of The Ultimate Guide to Surviving Shinobi Life series.

[jellazticious]

I am going to tell everyone a dream I had a few nights back

hold on to your hats, it's wild and thank god I wrote everything in a notebook

I finally, a good tf2 dream. Been waiting since that dream with the mercs hiding in the cave and the Engineer was shyly flirting with me (I was Spy)

But, this one is weirder and with no romance

Okay so, the dream is like a tf2 match but the game mode isn't specified, RED and BLU are just killing each other for no particular reason at all. Also the map does not exist in real life. The map where the dream takes place is this pink government building with a bunch of arch columns, the middle of the map does not have a control point, even tho it looks like it could be a king of the hill map. anyways, in this giant dome, the top of it have like stairs that look like they're made of Lego, on one end it's really wide but on the other side, you have to tightrope walk it. The "tf2 veterans" are the only ones who can properly walk from the wide end to the thin end.

Okay, that is the setting. Now the POV.

there is no pov. I am a camera and the main character is this BLU Engineer (YAAAAAAAAA) so like, he refuses to plant sentries like an idiot and just tries to shoot people 1v1 all the way. Engie then kind of just, finds himself on the bridge cuz he was being chased by a Demoknight. The Demo stopped following him when he realized Engie was serious with trying to cross the bridge. Then like he reaches the slim end to be met with a Heavy charging towards him, he bolted back to the entrance and he was blocked by a Pyro who then air blasts him off the bridge

pitch black, like a fucking Deltarune intro (gghfghhhhsfffffff DELL- TARUNE)

then fade back. Engie wakes up on a pile of hay inside this barn. The vibe changed, it's no longer a tf2 game. It's now one of those point and click games with high quality pixel art. There's clickables n shit, there's even a fucking items inventory on the bottom part of my "camera". Anyways, Engie woke up, doesn't say a word and the "player" (not me tho) tries to click the sides of the screen to look around but it's like agonizingly slow and they realize you can move the camera like how you move the camera on SFM.

Engineer walks out and there's like wheat fields for miles and miles around except for a path. The path have no wheat and it have some stuff scattered around em. Engie walked the entire narrow pathway and like when he turns, his team Medic and Heavy are on a picnic table taping a bunch of boxes. Med looks at Engie and goes "HALLOOOO" like he'd normally would, this made Heavy look back to who was Medic talking to. Heavy goes "ah!", stands up and hands Engineer a box. He said he and Medic are dealing with some deliveries, whatever that means. Engie looks inside the box and it's full of Fudgee Bars (Filipino brand cake bars) and gets real confused and slightly pissed. He just places the box back on the table and just kept following the path, he eventually gets to this little village, still covered in walls of wheat. there's like five paths but three of them are blocked with picnic tables piling up and covering the path. Literally, you cannot pass them, the piles are taller than houses.

There are NPCs in that town and they look like they straight up came from The Town With No Name. Tho, when one of them was clicked for interaction, Medic and Heavy came running to them and just chaotically yells at the NPC to not tell Engie anything urubrifdbsv. Engie went for a different person, same thing, another person, no no no, Medic and Heavy aren't gonna let that happen. Engie goes "Dammit, fine! I'll go to the stinking roads"

There's two paths that aren't blocked and yeah, left seems like a good one to start but before that, Engie gotta take a piss, thank fuck there's an outhouse that for some reason, the insides are like a high class hotel bathroom, bigger on the inside and like my inner monologue, not Engie's, went "Yeah, that's reasonable. It's a dream after all". The camera momentarily became Engie's total POV because God forbids me to see Engie dick even in dreams. Tho I don't think this Engie got a dick cuz he sat down the toilet instead of just unzipping his pants to take a piss.

Anyways, the entire thing starts to rumble and like, there is a feeling of sea sickness. then it dawned to us that the outhouse is being moved. Literally, getting moved by a fucking crane, then THUD

Don't worry, he's fine. Got out and realized he's not in the wheat field anymore, Heavy's next to the outhouse, leaning on it, eating a sandwich. Medic isn't with him anymore, I don't know why, he's probably the one who drove the crane but there is no crane anywhere. The vibe of the dream changed from point and click feel to Netflix show third person view. Heavy looked at Engie and said "Looks familiar?" then nods his head and using his eyebrow to point infront of them.

It's the fucking pink government building from the start. Engie scrunches his face in absolute confusion. Still, he "thanks??" Heavy and walked in. Instead of a battlefield it turned into this ballroom party and everyone (still BLU and RED mercs) are talking about soccer matches and which team they think will win. Oh boy, this is not what Engie was expecting and like he was about to get involved until he saw the Pyro who pushed him off the bridge. Yeah no, he's not gonna get near that thing. He went into this kitchen that looks exactly like mine. Bruh, Dell Conagher was in my fucking kitchen bhvfehbbhjve. Anyways, he pulled in the fridge and grabbed a huge ass cup from it

?????

Nah, this seems like a normal occurence, he just took a fat sip from the giant cup and he gagged from it. He looked at the water and there's fucking concrete street bits. He almost choked on a piece of metal framing. Tho??? he did not act like it's unnatural, he just bitched about it. Spy enters the kitchen to grab the wine bottles and glasses from the other side of the kitchen (in my real kitchen, he have a shelf thing opposite from the fridge. We have wine glasses hanging upside down from it). Engie called him just to continue bitching about the water and BY GOD THIS IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER SEEN IN A DREAM

"Spah, can you believe it??"

"wha-"

"There's bad concrete...

IN THE WATER"

"Dell..."

Spy takes the giant cup, leans to get to Engie's eye level and says "This is normal"

THEN TOOK A GIANT SIP FROM IT LIKE IT'S NOTHING WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT

God, I could taste the stone and I still remember the texture of the water

Engie just rolled his eyes and exits the kitchen back to the ballroom.

Everyone is staring at him and it's probably because he hated the concrete water. Huge brawl ensues between team concrete water and the Engineer defenders. The fight is getting so loud that the NPCs from the second act of the dream came around to see what was making all that ruckus. They all collectively gasped "OH!"

You would expect that was a gasp of negative shock but no, they immediately cheered and wage bets at the mercs.

Things get messy in that point but I do remember that Engie yanked the RED Sniper's rife from his handsand just shoots with it perfectly. No he is still not making a sentry. The dream made sure I know that Engie got a sensory overload because the cameras keep switching from the crowd noises, the gunshots, the screaming and his frustrated face. Then the camera pans to someone in the crowd who's mocking cheer can be heard the most. It's Betty Boop, y'know, the lady from Fleischer's. He straight up shoots her head for being so taunting.

Big mistake, she turned into this flaming demon owl that looks like it came from No Straight Roads. Normal people wake up when they see horrific transformations with inhumane screeching in dreams but for some reason, I don't wake up from nightmares. The whole thing became a bossfight. She switches from the arches of the buildings and to the ceiling. She was mostly targeting Engie for shooting her.

Anyways, fight went on, then she goes to phase 2. Demon Betty merged with the ceiling and like became a chandalier full of body parts. Engie got hit in the leg and I woke up from a leg cramp in the same place.

Hoo, what a ride

[claybefree]

Seeing as it's the twentieth anniversary, I guess I should post this again

September Third, Two Thousand and Nine

For years whenever anyone asked me when my son Henry was born I’d start to say September instead of August 25, 2001. Sunday he had his eighth birthday party at his mother’s house, and I stayed here. Most of his mother’s friends don’t care for me much. The feeling is mutual. Tonight coming home from work I started stitching what I’m about to write together in my mind and suddenly got very afraid. I thought for a moment that I was about to go get drunk, which might very likely be death for somebody like me. I was sure I was going to change direction of the truck, that I’d drive the same route I always did back then, that I would stand by the register and stare at the bottle in my hand without really knowing I where I was. I think it has to do with the weather finally changing and perhaps that Henry’s mom and I are no longer together. I sat on the porch of my little house and called a friend and told him all this. He listened and after a while I felt better, which is exactly how these things should go. When we decided we were done he told me I should go in and write all this down.

I worked on through that whole day. Most everybody else on the job had stopped and listened to each of the radios on the different floors or cried. The asshole Turks I was framing a bathroom for wouldn’t let me quit. They had tile to run. I found it made me feel better to keep going anyway. The laborers cussed me when I asked them to move so that I could use the table saw, a natural gathering spot on any job. They seemed to think I was calloused or hard-hearted and it was because I was from Tennessee. It just now occurred to me that maybe they were right.

That afternoon, when it was determined safe to walk across the bridges, most of the job, the other carpenters and trades-people, wandered home to Brooklyn or Queens. Me and the two left to close everything up had it different as we lived in Jersey. Anthony, the boss, was big and red-haired, red faced and lived in Hoboken. Duane was in charge of demolition and waste, was a little shorter and darker, and lived in Secaucus or maybe somewhere west of that I think. They squared off on each other frequently. It always reminded me of two walruses going at it on a beach.

Whenever we went out to the bar afterwards Anthony would have a Bud tall boy in each hand at all times, the waitress would come up with four for him whenever we sat down. On the job we liked to yell at each other, I once told him I was doing him a favor by giving him such an easy target, and he never missed an occasion to oblige me. Duane was a single dad, dark haired with deep sunken yet kind eyes that always seemed to have bags under them. One of the black laborers told him once he was the most Uncle Fester looking motherfucker he had ever seen. I tended to agree.

We locked the job up at four I think, humped it across the park through the smoke to the A-train. There was smoke forming a mist around the trees of central park that day. There were no flower children loitering at Yoko’s “Imagine” monument to barge through. Our thinking was to get downtown to the Path train. We had no idea that two of the stations had been destroyed. It didn’t matter, we were underground fifteen minutes before Anthony vetoed the idea. People were running wild through the stations, on the trains, everything was panic and Oh Fuck and Anthony had no intention of being underground. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t figure out. It wouldn't occur to me until later that the big man was very afraid.

In the years since I have always wondered why people have reacted so strongly from that day. Later we would go to war because of a something that happened one day in New York City and this has always seemed really strange to me. I guess what I mean is that I was there and never wanted to kill anybody because of it. Most of the time I just thought it was very strange and sad and mostly just very interesting. I only remember ever crying about it twice. The first time was a few months afterward, I had quit Anthony to stay home with Henry. Part of our routine was to watch Sesame Street. One day in the winter there was a skit where Elmo got very scared because of some smoke and noise that was never identified. I suppose in this case it was a nameless fear. A New York City fireman came on screen and hugged him, told him it was okay to be scared, Elmo, and that everything would be alright. I remember little red furry Elmo hugged the fireman tight. I held Henry in my lap and cried into his fine blonde hair.

It was the fireman that did it. I still get upset when I think about the firemen. I have had a lot of trouble with cops in different times in my life, but I never had a problem with any fireman I ever encountered, drunk or otherwise. They seem to me to be a different animal entirely.

Anthony, Duane and me ran into two firemen on the deck of the cruise boat that carried us across to Weehawken. They came in and collapsed on the painted metal floor, shedding boots and letting their helmets roll away. Some people applauded weakly, others asked questions, they just stared at us and said nothing. It didn’t occur to me until much later they were probably the only ones from their station who lived. Other men that for years they worked with, ate and fought with, got drunk with were dead. There was a bar I frequented in Jersey City a few blocks from our house where a couple of weeks later I saw three firemen in dress uniforms. One was between his partner on a stool and the third who was older and may have been a captain. The captain was clearly upset, swaggering and poking the other two in the chest. Everybody else was trying hard not to pay attention to what seemed about to develop into a fight. I think later I saw the old man leaning against the bar and weeping openly, he must have been sixty at least.

I got drunk in this bar Sept. 10th while my wife and kid slept back home. She’d start nursing and pass out with him and I’d head out to roam. The thing I liked about this place was the Sinatra on the jukebox, so that night I loaded it up and sat at the bar listening. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard “Summer Wind.” The tattooed brunette tending bar must have thought it was cute because she serenaded me, singing along with a couple of the songs. There was another man with a mustache further down the line who was putting the blast on her and didn’t seem to like me much so I got the fuck out early. By “early” I mean I didn’t close the place.

I won’t tell you what we saw on the boat ride across the Hudson, you’ve seen it already. We unloaded at Weehawken and everyone, thousands of high end refugees really, started walking south towards Hoboken where we had been told there were buses waiting to take us home. I noticed that even wearing boots, the three of us walked faster than the others. We were construction workers living and working around Manhattan and we were very good at walking. I remember being comforted by walking with them. Hundreds of buses lined the streets of Hoboken and the three of us walked the length of that town. Anthony broke off about halfway to head home. A couple of weeks later I showed up having laid out drunk for two days and told him I had come for my tools. He looked at me and didn’t say a word. He mailed me my check. I haven’t seen the man since.

Duane and me trudged the rest of Hoboken together. I heard that not soon after I left he was let go to cut costs and that not long after that he got into a bad time with a prostitute on rt. 1 & 9. The smoke in Hoboken was thicker than in the city and the fumes from streets filled with idling buses finally got my hangover to officially kick in. I told Duane about how I’d had “Summer Wind” playing as background music in my head all day. He laughed and began singing the song, each line perfectly. We got through the crowd easily, after hours of walking together we had finally hit a stride together. We were marching, really. There was the giant blue sky of the day broken intermittently by smoke and there was the roar of diesel noise and Hoboken and Duane singing Summer Wind to me; some punk kid from Tennessee who had no business being there.

The only other incident I remember having to cry because of some assholes who decided to fly planes into tall buildings was coming across the Manhattan bridge one night after carrying my sister-in-law home to Park Slope. She would come over most nights to hang out with the baby, and around eleven or so and in various states of sobriety I’d be asked to drive her back home. I never hated the terrorists for invoking a War of Terror, I hated them for causing enough terror that it fucked the roads up. Shit got closed for what seemed no fucking reason whatsoever. One day coming back from the pediatrician’s office, Henry got stuck howling in his car seat for four hours because the Holland Tunnel was handling too much traffic and we were too afraid to take him out of it because of the cops everywhere. My sister-in-law and I spent a lot of time in the Saturn together on the nights I drove her home. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably everything. I haven't spoken to my sister-in-law since I moved out last summer.

This particular night the Brooklyn Bridge was only operating east-bound into Brooklyn so after I dropped her off I was diverted back across the Manhattan Bridge in order to get back into the city and eventually home. The Manhattan Bridge back then was still under renovation and I guess has always been the ugly, cross-eyed cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge. I got stuck on it, moving slower than shit, and staring at trash and old faded plywood encasing the little bit of wrought iron and Neo-Classical elements that were left up by the arch. Off to the left t seemed as though the entirety of Downtown was illuminated from the work lights that were set up down by Ground Zero. Downtown glowed with lights that were set up to look for people that weren’t there anymore. The DJ on WFMU that night was playing a super slowed down cover of the B-52’s Song for a Future Generation. If you’ve heard it, you’ve probably laughed, it’s a ridiculously chirpy pop song. I’ve always loved it. The lyrics go a little like this:

Wanna be the ruler of the galaxy

Wanna be the king of the universe

Let`s meet and have a baby now

In between each stanza, the different members give spoken-word tidbits of information about themselves. For example Ricky, the original guitarist, was a Pisces and “loved computers and hot tamales.“ Ricky also died from AIDS back in 1985 when people still had no idea what the disease was.

The version I heard that night had slowed the tempo to that of a blues song. The dip-shit ironic hipster that sang it reflected this. Stuck on the bridge it felt as though I was listening to a lament. What reduced me to tears, smoking Winstons in my little Saturn station wagon, was the feeling that whatever was left of innocence had recently been or was about to be brutally murdered by pig-face, ignorant men. Wanna be the first lady of infinity. Wanna be the nicest guy on earth. Let's meet and have a baby now.

[luxekook]

chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat. 

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all. 

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx​  @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang 

[xo-phile]

Tides (M!Mer x Fem!Reader) p1

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Excerpt: “Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: thalassaphobia, emetophobia (just in case, no actual vomiting), situational anxiety, almost drowning

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! If you did, please harass me to finish part 2!

Part 2

╚═════ ∘◦ ☝︎ ◦∘ ══════╝

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Morning light filtered through your windows, casting shadows of tree branches onto the walls of your art studio. The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of your charcoal against the rough paper of your giant sketchbook and Teddy, your massive Newfoundland water dog, snoring by your feet. You stopped your sketching to rifle through a stack of photographs that you used for reference of the old church in the woods.

The photographs showed a lone brick building, church bell and all, that would have been unobtrusive in design if it weren’t for the fact that it was the only building in the middle of Saggitaria Woods for miles. The chapel’s warm brick exterior and defined architecture stood in stark contrast the surrounding lush greenery. You couldn’t forget the way the trees seem to slowly close in on the stone intruder, while the building stood stoically, seeming to welcome nature’s embrace.

When you looked back up at your sketch, the lines you scratched onto the page didn’t evoke the same balanced contrast. It just looked like trees and a building with a cross. You sighed exasperatedly and threw down your stack of photographs with a hard thump. Teddy awoke with a startle at the sound, and let out a disgruntled huff, looking up at you with disdain.

“Sorry, buddy,” you laughed crouching down to ruffle his massive brown head. The Newfie lolled his gigantic pink tongue in a doggy smile and leaned into your hands in forgiveness. Outside, the sound of a boat’s motor approached and cut off. Teddy jumped up to gallop out the door, with you snatching a cardigan off your chair to follow behind. From your porch, you saw Romero and Willow, old childhood friends, waving excitedly on the dock. Squealing in delight, you broke out into a run down the path from your home to the wooden lake-front dock.

“My two favorite gremlins!” you cried excitedly throwing yourself into Willow’s arms.

The sound of two girls screeching in delight made Teddy start to bark excitedly. Romero,  a six-foot-nine lycanthrope, picked the both of you up for a massive bear hug, swinging you two around like rag-dolls. Seeing your childhood best friends’ faces for the first time since their wedding made you realize how long you had been cooped up with just Teddy for company.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, “I thought you guys were gonna move into the new house after you got back from your honeymoon.”

“Well we were, but Dresden asked us to check on you,” Romero said, bent down giving Teddy what looked like the world’s best tummy rub. You looked at Willow in confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“He said he hadn’t seen you take the ferry in like a month,” she said accusingly, arms crossed over her chest, “We wanted to make sure that Teddy didn’t make a snack out of you.” At the mention of his name and the word “snack”, Teddy tilted his head comically. It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Well you can tell Dresden that I’m up to eyeballs in projects right now and that he doesn’t need to worry.” Willow and Romero gave each other a look before turning back to you.

“How about you tell him yourself? We’re meeting him at the buoy, tomorrow. Think of it as a welcome back party for us,” Willow offered.

The thought of being out in the middle of the lake made your stomach dropped. Willow must have seen the look in your eyes and grabbed your hands to hold them comfortingly.

“It’ll be completely safe, I promise. We won’t go swimming or anything. We’ll just hang out like old times,” she assured. You gave an awkward smile.

You knew your friends were just looking out for you.  They constantly ribbed you for your workaholic nature. If you had a dime for all the times they joked about you painting nature more than being in it, you probably wouldn’t have to paint again for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know guys… The gallery opening is coming up soon and I’m nowhere near where I need to be in the collection to be goofing off,” you tried with a sheepish shrug. You were lucky enough that your online presence grabbed the attention of a curator willing to display a series of never before seen works. The idea of blowing this amazing opportunity, whispered menacingly in the back of your head.

Romero looked at you for a moment and then smirked.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Micah was gonna show us his new boat…” he mentioned casually.

At the mention of Micah, you felt your ears warm at the tips. Willow side-eyed your reaction and added,“He’s been asking about you, you know…”

“Micah?“ you asked skeptically, "What does his girlfriend have to say about that?”

Willow rolled her eyes in response.

“Who cares about her? Micah said she’s not coming. Homies only outing,” she responded waggling her eyebrows.

These little shits, you thought. She knew that was the final nail in the coffin so with a groan, you acquiesced and smiled in defeat. Willow and Romero cheered in victory while Teddy ran around in circles excitedly.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

With your eyes closed, all you could hear was the sound of Romero’s boat, Lobo del Lago, cutting through the waters of Lake Obsidian. The wind whipped past your face and through your hair as the Lobo navigated through rogue waves. When you finally opened your eyes, the sierra mountains that surrounded Lake Obsidian were in clear view. Surrounding redwood forests made the scenery look like something right out of an old postcard you’d find at a gift shop.

Lake Obsidian stretched out for miles around the boat, the water glittering in the afternoon sun. For most people, being out on a boat with friends in gorgeous weather would have made for a perfect day. Unfortunately for you, being this far out on the lake and not knowing how deep below Lake Obsidian reached, made your stomach flutter. Instead, you focused on the horizon of the lake and the surrounding forests passing by in the distance to distract yourself. Next to you was Teddy, who, unlike yourself, stuck his head over the side of the boat, mouth open wide, his tongue and ears flapping in the wind.

At least one of us is enjoying themselves.

"You doing okay, sweets?” Willow asked, sitting down next to you. Her hazel-blonde hair was wind-swept perfection and she looked like an old movie star in her giant sunglasses and strapless one-piece. You, on the other hand, opted for jean shorts and comfortable flannel, not exactly fit for swimming or water sports. You saw in the reflection of Willow’s sunglasses your hair was sticking up in all different directions from the wind and your complexion was looking green. She handed you a bottle of ginger ale and you took it gratefully.

“So far, so good. As long as I don’t think about the bottomless infinity of this godforsaken lake, I think I’ll make it,” you replied, trying to suppress a grimace.

“Well, you’ll have a pretty good distraction soon enough,” she chuckled, giving you a knowing look.

When you felt Lobo start to slow, you looked up to see a cruiser, Siren, approaching. Its pilot, Micah, a sandy blonde Minotaur, was at the helm, waving excitedly. The Siren circled some laps around Lobo causing the breaking waves to rock the boat. The motion caused you to clutch at the railing, knuckles turning white. Teddy was barking madly next you at motion of the boat, excited to see a familiar face.

“Hey Micah, stop showing off!” Romero yelled from the helm as the Siren finally slowed to a stop.

“Sorry, Rome,” the hulking Minotaur laughed from a distance, “Just made some upgrades and she drives like a dream!”

When both boats finally anchored, you willed your face to not look completely sea-sick. Micah hopped over to Lobo as gracefully as a 285-lb Minotaur could and went to give hugs to Willow and Romero. When he came to you, he lifted your whole body effortlessly, into a warm embrace.

“Hey stranger,” Micah smiled infectiously. You couldn’t help but grin back despite the anxiety in your stomach rising even further. You weren’t sure if it was seeing your childhood crush or the fact the you were five feet in the air, rocking in a boat. When he put you down, you took several sips of ginger ale. Teddy started hopping on his hind legs, pawing at Micah, wanting to be carried like you were. Micah just laughed and lifted the 145-lb dog into a hug like he weighed nothing at all.

“I was starting to get worried!” Micah said as he smiled down at you. His large figure was so broad and tall, he blocked the bright light of the afternoon sun from your eyes. He set Teddy down for him to run off somewhere to get his toy.

“You know how it is,” you tried sheepishly, “the work gets away from me…”

“Well it’s good to take a break once and a while,” he said with a big furry palm warm on your shoulder, “It’s nice to have the whole gang together again.”

“Not the whole gang. Looks like somebody wants to show up fashionably late,” Romero said working on unloading paddle boards.

“No worries, let’s just get out on the water while we wait.” Micah started to take off his shirt to reveal a thick, sturdy torso and giant, muscular shoulders. You pretended to look for Teddy instead of openly staring.

“You gonna come out with us? My board can probably hold both of us…” Micah offered with a smile.

“Uuuuh…” you started to say before Willow cut you off.

“Sorry Mic! She’s gotta help me take some pictures for Instagram first,” Willow lied, hooking her arm through yours. Micah’s face fell for a moment.

“Maybe later then?”

“I actually forgot my bathing suit today,” you tried without looking at his eyes. Micah gave you a consoling smile and a shrug.

“No worries. Maybe another time, soon. Gotta make sure you still remember those lessons,” he said with a wink.

Micah had given you paddle boarding lessons in shallower waters before so there was no reason for him to think you couldn’t be out on the water. The words warmed something in your chest, but you felt bad for lying to your friend.

“Thanks, Willow, seriously,” you confessed gratefully to your friend after the boys were out on their paddle boards. You watched Micah’s powerful back flex as he pulled himself through the rocking waves on his board. You wondered what it would feel like under your hands.

“No worries, sweet-cheeks. I was serious about those Insta pics though,” she laughed. The two of you took turns taking pictures in the brilliant, sunny day. The scenery was no doubt, gorgeous, perfect for would-be social media influencers and artists, like yourself. Today, however, you promised your friends you wouldn’t bring work with you, so you ended up lounging on the platform on the back of Lobo, throwing a tennis ball out into the water so Teddy could swim after it. You were on something solid and the waters were somewhat calm, so you were actually able to enjoy yourself.

You were about the throw the ball again, when Teddy started barking at a form in the water. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a long fishtail shimmer as it swam by. It raced over to where the boys were paddle boarding and you saw Romero’s board shake and flip with him on it. When Romero finally surfaced with his hair plastered to his face, Dresden’s head popped up out of the water howling with laughter.

“Dres, you little shit, I was about to win,” Romero deadpanned.

Micah ended up laughing so hard, he fell off his own board with a gigantic splash. The merman and the Minotaur high-fived, still howling with laughter.

“It’s okay, Dresden,” Willow yelled from the boat, “He desperately needed a bath!”

“Sorry Rome, I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Dresden sniggered. He ducked his head underwater and resurfaced again right in front of you.

“There’s our little recluse! I was beginning to think that monster you kept as a pet ate you,” he said pulling his body halfway out of the water to reveal lean, muscular shoulders and strong arms, toned by years of deep-water swimming. He shook the water out of his dark curly hair like a dog, and sprayed it all over you.

“As always, it’s such a pleasure to see you, too, Dresden,” you greeted sarcastically.

“Oh, you wound me. Be nice, or I might change my mind about your present,” he countered, hazel eyes glittering.

“Presents? Oh, well now you’re a man after my own heart,” you smiled, reaching out your palm with a gimme motion. He pulled a satchel bag that was hung across his broad shoulders and threw them onto the platform next to you. You reached in the to pull out a a flat rock the size of a dinner plate. When you flipped it over, you found a perfectly preserved ammonite, embedded into the stone. The white shell shifted hues in the light as you moved it, turning blue, green, and then orange, opalised by time.

“Dres, this is beautiful…” you gasped, as you ran your fingers over the ridges of the fossil.

“Eh, it’s not big deal,” he shrugged nonchalantly, though his complexion and fins framing his face seemed to warm at your praise.

“What!? I want something pretty too!” Willow came out from behind you to start rifling through the bag herself. She pulled out a giant abalone shell, the mother-of-pearl iridescence shining rainbows across its surface.

“Dibs!” Willow declared before running to hide her newly acquired treasure. You and Dresden looked at each other for a moment, and broke out into chuckles. You looked up to admire how the scales framing his eyes shimmered copper and green as he laughed.

“Guess, Willow likes hers,” you snickered, “Must have taken some effort to find this stuff.”

Dresden watched your hands as you traced the ridges of the ancient fossil.

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” he said and looked up at you through long, dark lashes, “Consider it a reward for coming out today. Figured if you got some positive reinforcement, you’d want to come out with us more often.”

You sighed and looked up at your friend with annoyance. Dresden put his hands up in apologetically, knowing he touched a nerve.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you already know how it is for me,” you retorted trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. You looked over to where Romero and Micah doing backflips off the Siren, Micah’s laughter ringing through the air. As you sat curled on the edge of the platform, you felt a pull in your chest for not being able to fully enjoy the day with him. Dresden saw your look and made a face you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

“You say obnoxious, others might use the word ‘charming’.”

“Charming, huh? Doesn’t sound like anybody I know…”

“Give me a chance, and maybe I’ll show you what they mean,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ew, who even are you?” you laughed, “Keep talking to me like that and I’m gonna have to bop you one.”

“Oooh, those are fighting words. Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face? Oh… wait…”

You must have given him your meanest glare because when he saw your face he started laughing uncontrollably. He started to float on his back still shaking with laughter, when you got an idea. You took the tennis ball from out of Teddy’s mouth.

“Hey Dres! Heads up!” you called and tossed the neon yellow tennis ball to the merman who caught it swiftly with one hand. He looked down at the ball confused and looked up to see a gigantic mass of brown fur about to land on his face. Dresden’s girlish shriek and the gigantic splash of water made you double over in laughter. You were starting to catch your breath again when a huge form stepped up onto the platform next to you.

“What’s so funny?” Micah asked, watching Dresden tease Teddy into doggy-paddling in circles to chase his precious tennis ball. You stood up quickly and tried to straighten yourself out.

“Ha… it’s nothing, just Dresden being stupid,” you said with a small smile. Micah took a moment to observe your face and your ears warmed under the attention.

“You know… It’s good to see you out with all of us. I get worried about you sometimes,” he remarked, watching Dresden continue to tease Teddy in the water. Your thoughts paused for a moment as a warm feeling bloomed in your chest, heart fluttering like a bird. You liked knowing that he thought about you, even if it was just out of friendly concern.

Shouldn’t you be thinking about someone who was actually your girlfriend?

“I’m used to it,” you replied, “Not all of us can have a doting partner to keep an eye on them.”

Micah seemed to cringe at the reference to his girlfriend.

“Actually, me and Becca broke up…” he confided. You turned your head to look at him in shock. There was a sort of  dejected look in his big brown eyes. The two of you sat in silence and you thought about his bright, beautiful girlfriend…

No… ex-girlfriend…

Becca was a vibrant personality, energetic and friendly. When you were all younger, Micah and every other teenage boy in town couldn’t help but be infatuated with her. The summer you left for university, Micah had finally built up the courage to ask her out. Four years and one art degree later, when you finally returned to your hometown, it seemed like this gorgeous couple were well on their way to getting married. You nursed this crush for years, never entertaining the idea of actually being with Micah because he always seemed just out of reach…

Until now, I guess…

You reached out to grasp his big furry hands with your smaller ones when you saw the sad look on his face.

“Micah, I’m sorry,” you apologized. He gripped your hand in response and smiled a small smile at you.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Things don’t work out sometimes,” he sighed. You both looked at each other for a moment in a silence that stretched out a little longer than was comfortable. You looked down and you were still holding his hand and your palm was starting to sweat. With how hard your heart was starting to beat, your were afraid that he was going to notice your pulse quickening. Your mind raced to fill up the awkward silence with something… anything.

“Hey, you wanna race?” you blurted out before you even thought about the words coming out of your mouth. Before you could register the situation you put yourself in, Micah’s face lit up with a big smile.

“You’re on. Winner has to buy loser a case of beer!” he exclaimed as he went to unload the spare paddle board.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Willow’s gentle voice called your name, snapping you out of your panicked fog. She must have overheard your conversation because she looked just was panicked as you did.

“Hey, um, what’s this about you paddling with Micah?” Willow asked, alarmed. You saw Micah approaching with the boards and paddles.

“I don’t know, Willow, I just blurted it out,” you whispered. Willow looked at you and then at Micah, who was already setting up the boards.

“Okay look, you already know what to do. Micah already taught you. Just don’t look down and you’ll be fine, okay?” Willow coached you before you felt a warm hand pull gently at your wrist.

You barely registered where you were, until a paddle was pushed into your hands and you were standing on the board out in open water. Your eyes were parallel to the horizon the entire time you waited for Micah to push himself out as well, but you couldn’t help but notice how dark the water was below you, stretching down so far, light couldn’t even penetrate it. You’re heart was pounding in your ears.

Somehow, you managed to paddle yourself out and follow Micah on his board, even though you gripped the paddle so tight, your knuckles turned white. Micah turned around to give you a big grin and call your name.

“Better catch up! I can already taste that beer!” He called over his shoulder. You did your best to smile back despite the nausea rising up in your stomach and your heart thumping heavily in your chest.

I will buy you fifty cases of beer if it means I’ll never have to do this ever again, you thought as you moved the paddle mechanically.

You focused on keeping your eyes forward and paddling the way Micah had taught you. It seemed like you were doing okay, too, following Micah’s form toward the designated finish line until a random current caught you and pulled you away from the boats.

Stay calm. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Don’t panic.

Looking up to see the boats getting smaller as you drifted away, you heard a loud buzzing in your ears as you felt panic rise up through your spine. Suddenly, a random wake surged upwards in front of you, causing the nose of your board to tip up and backwards. The last thing you heard was Willow screaming your name and the ringing in your ears reaching a fever pitch before your back hit the water.

You gasped as you sunk and started choking on the water filling your lungs. The sudden chill of the water paralyzed you, even though you did everything you could to will your numb arms and legs to move. The world around you was just about to dim until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you and swiftly pull you to the surface.

When you reached the open air, you started coughing up all the water that you had swallowed. Your hair was pressed flat and wet against your face, blocking your vision, not that you could see, anyway, with the way your head was spinning. You clutched at broad shoulders and felt an arm hook your legs around a waist. A familiar voice- Dresden’s voice was repeating your name.

“I need you breath in and out really slow, okay? We can’t have you hyperventilating. Big breath in. Big breath out.” You breathed slowly like he instructed, your body clinging to his like a blind koala. You felt one arm hold you tightly against a firm torso and a big hand gently brush wet hair, plastered to your face, out of your eyes. He then cradled your cheek, keeping your head still, looking into your eyes with his striking hazel ones. Dresden’s defined jaw was clenched and his eyes were devoid of its usual mischief.

Why so serious?

You giggled a little bit, panic turning into hysterics.

“There she is. Hey, you’re okay. I got you,” he spoke softly, relief in his voice. His vibrant eyes were still flicking back in forth between your own searching for something. For what, you weren’t sure but the funny way his face looked made more giggles bubble up through your chest.

“I don’t think giggling is a symptom of a concussion, so we’re probably good,” the merman observed, “Hold on to my back and I’m gonna swim you back, okay?”

You nodded wordlessly in response and unhooked your legs from around his waist. He twisted around in your arms and started swimming towards Lobo.  Dresden’s powerful arms sliced through the water propelling the two of you forward, but he was careful enough to make sure to keep your head above water. When you approached Lobo, Romero pulled you out of the water and Willow wrapped you up in a thick beach towel. Your fully drenched clothes didn’t help the shiver that wracked your body despite the warm weather. Micah ran up from behind your two friends.

“What happened out there?! Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing your arms furiously over the towel, trying to warm your shaking body. Before you could say anything you heard Dresden’s voice interrupt you from the water.

“She got swept out by a current. When she fell, the undertow caught her. Maybe instead of dicking around, you should have kept an eye on her,” he ground out, angrily. Micah’s eyes flashed to Dresden, anger and confusion bleeding into his face.

“What the fuck, Dres? How is that fair?” Micah retorted, volume of his voice rising.

“Enough!” you yelled before your two friends could start hurling more insults at each other.

Dresden let out a curse and dove under the water, swimming away. Your shoulders drooped and you started to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At the awkward silence around you, you closed your eyes, not being able to stop the tears from welling up. Willow wrapped her arms around you as you cried silently on the way home.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Through your high windows you could see the light of the waxing moon shining dimly through the redwood trees surrounding your house. You were on your father’s old corduroy couch, wrapped in your thickest cardigan, with Teddy’s big head resting in your lap, softly snoring away.

Willow and Romero insisted on staying the night with you to make sure you were okay after your fall, but you told them you didn’t want to ruin their day more than you already did. When you finally promised that you would go to the neighbors if you felt strange, they took their leave. Hours later, you felt nothing but exhaustion and embarrassment at what happened.

You leaned your head against the cushion, closing your eyes to listen to the lo-fi music playing softly from your laptop. Distantly, if you focused, you could also hear the gentle push and pull of the tides breaking in front of your home.

Your mind drifted to the confusion on Micah’s face when he saw you pulled from the water and grabbed one of the cushions to shove in your face to muffle a groan.

Seriously? What the hell was I thinking?

You then thought about Dresden and the way his voice sounded when he yelled at Micah. Dresden almost always had a confident smile on his face, making crass jokes and pulling pranks. To see him so upset formed a knot in your stomach.

Gently lifting Teddy’s head, you got up from the couch to walk to the art studio. You knew it was too soon to try to start working again, but you needed to feel the charcoal in between your fingertips- to feel like there was at least something  you could control. You found the photograph of the old church and set it up next to your easel, making sure there was enough light on both the blank sketchbook and the reference.

Using the general shape of the building and the mass of foliage surrounding it you started sketching out general locations of where everything was. Then, you started adding in rough detail shaped as a guideline for how to paint. When you looked back at the photograph, though, something felt off. The trees in you sketch didn’t carry the same presence as it did in the photograph.

Is it the proportions? The shading?

You flipped a page to start over, determined to capture the ambience that you felt when you found the hidden church. Again, you sketched the general outline, but started with detailing the church. By the time you managed to sketch out most of the building, something in the proportion was off. You rubbed your charcoal dusted fingers on your forehead, willing away the frustration you felt growing behind your brows.

Before you could throw down your charcoal and call it a night, you heard Teddy whining from the other room. When you rounded the corner, your dog was pawing at the door, eager to get outside. Before you could even fully open the door, his massive form pushed his way out and made a break for the dock, barking ceaselessly into the night. You sighed in exasperation before running after your giant dog to stop him from waking the neighbors.

When you caught up to Teddy, you found him laying on the edge of the dock, nose sniffing at something swimming in the dark depths of the water, tail wagging wildly. Teddy gave another loud bark at a splash and you shushed him.

“Teddy, you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you chided, tuffing at his collar to bring him back inside.

“Gotta say, he’s got a pretty good nose,” came a voice from below the dock that made you yelp in surprise. Dresden swam out into the moonlight and you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Jesus, Dres! Can we keep my near-death experiences to once a day? Thanks,” you breathed, unclenching your fist from your rumpled cardigan.

“Heh, sorry,” he let out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You went to sit at the end of the dock next to Teddy, legs hanging off the edge, toes dipping into the water. Neither of you said a word until you both looked at each other to smile awkwardly. Dresden almost always had something to say, so his silence unnerved you.

“What are doing here so late, Dres?” you asked, breaking the long silence. Dresden floated for a moment worrying his lip between his teeth and then finally spoke.

“I came to check on you…,” he stated, “and to apologize.”

Your brows furrowed and you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your body. You watched him for a moment, observing his face without saying anything.

“So,“ he started, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Are you doing okay?”

You thought for a moment, stroking the downy fur of Teddy’s ear.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay…” you said, picking your words carefully, “Are you?”

Dresden looked at you in confusion.

“Yeah…? I’m not the one that almost drowned today,” he chuckled, albeit nervously. You let out another deep sigh, this time in exasperation.

“How am I supposed to know? You yell at Micah, who didn’t do anything mind you, and then you just left all mad! I’m not the one that needs an apology, Dresden,” you argued. This time you held his gaze, almost daring him to look away. Dresden did his best to match your stare, but then ran his hands across his face and his hair in frustration.

Before he could get a word in edgewise, you interrupted, “You guys are literally best friends and I already feel bad enough for ruining everybody’s day. I don’t want to be the reason why you two stop talking to each other.” You shifted your weight to lay on your stomach and rest your chin on your crossed arms, not unlike how Teddy looked, next to you. Dresden disappeared beneath the surface of the water and popped up again at the edge of the dock, pulling himself up out of the water enough to be at your to eye level. You pointedly held his hazel gaze until he rolled his and sighed in defeat.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize. For you. Satisfied?”

Both of you stared at each other for a long moment before sharing a big grin. When you two started snickering like little kids with a secret, a weight lifted from your conscience.

“I never got a chance to thank you for saving me out there,” you said after the soft chuckles you shared subsided, “Thank you. And I appreciate you not telling Micah what really happened.”

Dresden made another incomprehensible face, but you could almost anticipate his next question.

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re afraid of deep water? I doubt he’d care,” he asked, his turn to look you straight in the eye. You looked away as you tried to figure out how to best articulate your response.

“The thing is, is that I care,” you tried, but he just cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“You said it yourself, I’ve lived at Lake Obsidian my entire life, it’s completely irrational!” You buried your face in your arms, thumping your head against the wood deck. “He’ll think I’m a freak for hiding something like that for so long.”

You kept hiding your face in embarrassment and heard a soft curse. Dresden muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

You lifted your head, “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll help you get over your…” he waved a hand in your general direction and said, “issue.”

You were mildly offended and confused.

“And why would you want to do that?” you asked.

“I’ll be sleep better knowing that the next time you try to impress Micah, you won’t end up at the bottom of the lake. Gods know that Micah’s big ass can’t swim as well as I can,” he concluded.

You flushed bright red at Dresden’s blatant remark.

Was I being that obvious?

“Okay then, let’s do it,” you promised before you could talk yourself out of it. Dresden gave you his signature cocky grin.

“Micah’s really lucky. I’ll see you tomorrow before sunset by Driftwood Beach. Bring a paddle board,” he instructed before disappearing beneath the dark water.

“Good night to you, too…” you muttered as stood up, watching the waxing moon’s reflection ripple in the water.

As you and Teddy walked back up to your house, you replayed the conversation over again in your head. That night you dreamed of a warm hand cradling your cheek and voice distorted by water whispering Micah’s really lucky.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

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[exit-path]

Man, I’m wistfully thinking about how Skyblock just CONSUMED my life from 2018–mid-2020. And I don’t want that knowledge to go to waste.

So here’s a COMPREHENSIVE LIST on how to develop your Vanilla Skyblock world (under the readmore):

Spawn in and break enough logs from the tree to make a crafting table and a wooden pickaxe. Don’t destroy any extra logs—you don’t want all the leaves to decay just yet.

Place down a crafting table (to the left of the chest) and craft a wooden pickaxe. Go in the chest and grab the ice and lava bucket. Make the cobble generator, with water flowing on one end onto the bedrock, and on the other off the edge.

Mine enough cobble as you need. Craft a lot of them into cobble slabs, and craft some into cobble walls. Make a furnace as well, and place it down (to the right of the chest).

Swim slowly down the water stream and place a pillar of cobble 3 blocks tall beneath the bedrock, then build a whole platform from there. The platform should be made of cobble top slabs, with cobble walls around the outside. Make sure the platform surrounds the bottom of the island.

Return to what’s left of the oak tree and break the rest of the logs. Try to collect the saplings as the leaves decay (if you’re not careful don’t worry, they should fall onto the platform below).

Smelt a piece charcoal for torches. Light up what you have—the top of the island where the tree was, and the platform below.

Mine out the island, you’ll need the dirt for later. Replace the dirt at the top of the island with cobble slabs. (To preserve the cobble generator, use full cobble blocks. You can make it look as neat as you like.)

Build a large platform at the top of the island. Equally space out spots in the platform to put dirt blocks (5 blocks apart). This will be your oak farm. Later in the future, it will be your dual oak/birch farm.

Smelt up more charcoal for torches. Now you can get enough torches to light up the whole tree farm. (I recommend going into a creative test world to find a torch placement pattern which uses torches as sparingly and calculatedly as possible.)

Grind cobble and wood to prepare for a big expedition. You’ll be bridging over to the sand island. You’ll be using cobble slabs, walls, and torches, and you’ll be starting on the bottom platform (so you can get under the sand island).

Bridge over. Use torches calculatedly (like before). Make a cobble platform under the sand island just as you did for the main island before. Place torches under every block sand is going to fall on.

Place a torch on one of the bottom blocks of sand and let it all break on the torches. Collect the sand and cactus. Empty the chest and break it. Leave the platform be, this will be the “sand platform”.

Go back to the main island to grind cobble. The cobble is for a new platform you’ll build out by the sand platform to build a nether portal.

You should also already be regularly farming oak trees to get a regular supply of apples—this will be your food source.

Make the nether portal and light it on fire using lava and the wood it catches on fire. Travel to the nether and bridge over to the nether island. Grab the stuff in the chest and break the chest. Take it back with you to the overworld.

Among the things you returned with, the nether chest gave you a birch sapling and your second block of ice. Make an infinite water source and expand your oak farm to have birch trees on a different side as well.

Go back out to the sand platform and start building another platform where you’ll have a mob farm in the sky. This will be a very intensive process which requires a lot of cobble and some back-and-forth to get an infinite water source for the eight water source blocks flowing at the top.

Finish your mob farm and start grinding. The mobs you’ll find will be zombies, creepers, spiders, and skeletons, with some rare zombie villagers, witches, and chicken jockeys.

The zombies will give you rare drops of iron ingots, carrots, and potatoes. The witches will give you your first redstone, as well as glowstone and glass bottles. The skeletons will give you a steady supply of bows and arrows without you needing to craft your own.

Build a sugarcane farm and a mushroom farm (I prefer one which grows giant mushrooms). Also, if you want, you can build a small lake with the infinite water source and go fishing to switch your food source over to fish.

Go back to the nether with a lot more cobble and build a nether mob farm too. Build it in a nether fortress (compare it in a normal creative world with the same seed) so you get zombie pigmen, wither skeletons, blazes, and magma cubes.

Oh shit did I say zombie pigmen? Sorry, I haven’t done this in 1.16 and beyond yet. I’ve only played this far in Skyblock in 1.11–1.15. (Do zombified piglins work the same way?) Modify these for your particular game update and your playing habits.

Anyways the zombie pigmen would have given you your first gold. The blazes will give you blaze rods for a brewing stand. Use both to get golden apples and potions of weakness.

(Although this wasn’t intended when Skyblock was first created back in Beta 1.7, you can still cure zombie villagers using only the items given to you. You get the brewing stand from blazes, the glass bottles from witches, the fermented spider eye from spiders, mushrooms and sugarcane, the gunpowder to make the potion splashing from creepers, and the golden apple from gold nuggets and oak trees.)

Head back to the overworld. Do you already have a large flat platform which you can stand a good distance away from? The sand platform? Great! Break all the torches and let mobs spawn there.

Build a watchtower and shoot off any mob that’s not a zombie villager. (Be careful of endermen and zombie hordes.) Once you find a zombie villager, be VERY CAREFUL. Single them off in a boat and cure them. You’ll need to cure two zombie villagers.

At this point, this is the limit of my knowledge with Skyblock. The last time I got this far, my world corrupted and I would never get this far in a Skyblock world ever again. So the rest of this will be all propositional.

Breed the villagers and make a rudimentary trading hall. Use these villagers to get your first basic items which were only accessible through trading: diamond armor, diamond tools, lapis lazuli, redstone, glass.

Get super kitted out: enchanted diamond armor and gear. Your island should look top-notch when you build all the other possible farms: wheat, carrot, potato, beetroot, cactus, iron.

Expand the island some more until you find a wandering trader. Get as many items you can’t normally get in Skyblock: saplings, flowers, red sand, and especially podzol (can be converted into dirt, a now renewable resource).

Finally, you can do the one thing that I’ve refrained from mentioning this entire time: build a house. Except not just any house. Build the biggest mansion you can imagine. I mean you’ve pretty much reached endgame! Enchanted diamond armor, 99% completion on your island, you can surely take on as monumental a task as a mansion.

Plan it out, and devote weeks and months to building this mansion. When you’re finally done, take a step back and relax. You’ve done it. You’ve beaten the game. You’ve done everything you can in a vanilla Skyblock world. And all by yourself.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

identity reveal

febuwhump day 1: prompt: alt no.4 identity reveal

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

what’s up! i am back! hope u enjoy this fic :) it is set very very early in the show, before 1x08 at some point.

Nick was pretty sure he didn’t like this. Walking alone through an abandoned office building, his footsteps echoing off the walls, water dripping from somewhere, the occasional squeak of a rat...it wasn’t comfortable alone. Not that it would have been a luxurious task with Hank along, but it’d be better, anyway. He’d be less nervous. One tended to be nervous when one had recently found out that they were, evidently, a Grimm. 

But Hank had called in sick today, and this was just a precursory investigation. Nothing big, nothing dangerous, nothing that would end in disaster.

Or so he’d thought. He was climbing up the stairs to the second floor when there was a clanking noise from above him. Nick sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood for confrontation.

Not that that mattered. He’d barely stepped onto the second floor when someone was shining a flashlight into his face. He reflexively put up a hand to shield his eyes, squinting. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question.”

The someone laughed. “What’re we doing here?” Great, Nick thought. We. “This is our territory. Our spot. Our place. Get it?”

“Find your own,” added the second person.

Nick sighed. He so did not want to deal with this.

“You can’t be here,” he said, imagining that saying this would do very little. 

“Who are you to say?” asked the man with the light, moving it away from Nick’s eyes to better illuminate his whole body. “We have just as much a right to be here as you.”

Nick slowly moved a hand to his gun, not liking where the situation was going.

“Get out, before I make you get out,” said the second man, and Nick heard the sound of him slamming a fist into his palm. It would have been threatening, but Nick had a gun. He’d be fine. “Now.”

The next few seconds went by in a blur. Nick grabbed his gun. One of the men in front of him yelled. Then something hit him over the head, and then all of a sudden he was waking up tied to a concrete support pillar, and he couldn’t feel his gun. Or his badge. Shit!

“So you’re a cop,” said the voice of the man who had been shining the light earlier. He stepped closer, close enough that Nick could feel the warmth of his body, but it was too dark, or else he’d been hit in the head too hard, because he couldn’t make out the man’s face. He held something up in front of Nick’s eyes. Even in his current blurred-vision condition, he could at least see the gold tint of his police badge. 

“What’s the play here?” he asked, figuring it was best not to delay. “You beat me up and leave me here to escape and hunt you down? You kill me and have the entire Portland Police Bureau breathing down your necks for the rest of your lives? You let me go and we never see each other again?”

Someone laughed - a new voice, not either of the two from before. The one who hit me over the head, Nick figured.

“Like that would ever happen,” he said. “A cop leave us alone? Now, see, if you had left us alone, you wouldn’t be in this situation, making bargains you don’t want to keep.”

He had a point. “I’m sure we could work something out.”

“Something that ends with us dead or in cuffs?”

“Pretty much.”

A fist slammed into Nick’s stomach. He doubled over as much as the ropes would allow, gasping for breath. 

When he picked his head up a second later, three dim outlines stood in front of him. 

“This is how it’s gonna go,” said the one on the right.

“We’re gonna hit you,” continued the one in the middle.

“And hit you,” elaborated the one on the right.

“Until you don’t feel shit,” the first said.

“If we’re feelin’ charitable, we might kill ya,” added the second.

“If you’re not so lucky we’ll let ya live,” concluded the third.

Nick pulled against the rope wrapped around him, not liking the sound of this plan at all. But it was no use. The rope was too tight, too thick, and he was too confused, too weak, too stupid. He’d gotten himself into this. There was no one but himself to blame. No one but himself to take whatever beating these guys were about to dish out.

It started out...tolerably. He’d been knocked around before. He’d never been tied up for it, granted, but a punch to the jaw was a punch to the jaw. 

And a punch to the head was a punch to the head. A fist to the throat was a fist to the throat. A kick to the knee was a kick to the knee. And on and on and on…

The three men moved like dancers, coordinating their punches, sliding in and out of his field of view, seemingly never interfering with each other’s plans to hurt him, but instead helping each other out. 

Three punches to the stomach from one man, causing him to bend the top of his body over as much as he could. A fist to the chin from another, snapping his head back up, exposing his chest again. A swift elbow to his ribcage, making something crack ominously. Another punch. A kick. Something to the face. Pain in his right arm. 

Eventually, the words of the men came true: he couldn’t feel anything. Or, he could, but the pain had stopped coming. Everything hurt, and he was aware of that fact, but the pain had completely enveloped him, a thick blanket against the continued onslaught. His body had reached its quota on pain, evidently. He could feel no more.

At some point, the men apparently noticed this, and decided to stop. Nick knew this because he couldn’t feel anything touching him anymore. They untied him, and he knew this because he went sliding to the floor against the pillar. He couldn’t see them. Maybe he’d closed his eyes at some point, in a baseless attempt to get the pain to stop. Maybe they were open, but there was blood preventing them from seeing. 

He blinked experimentally, and was relieved to find that he could sort of see. There wasn’t much to see, just the dark, but there was faint light streaming in through a broken window. It was enough to see drops of his own blood on the floor around him, to see a bruise forming on the back of his right hand, the only part of his body that he could see the damage to. 

He slowly shoved himself up off of the floor, leaning onto the pillar that had previously helped trap him for support. He clumsily felt his pockets. Empty, as he’d expected. Great. Nick took a second to collect himself, trying to ignore the way his entire body pulsed along with his slightly-too-fast heartbeat, like one giant bruise (which it probably was, he thought). He really didn’t want to go to the hospital. He also really didn’t want to go back to work. He couldn’t go home, because Juliette would make him go to the hospital, and he couldn’t go to Hank’s for the same reason. Plus, both of them would insist on involving the police, and Nick didn’t want that. He just wanted to rest. 

At last a thought came to him: he could go to Monroe’s. They were something like friends, and he was pretty sure the man wouldn’t force him to do anything. 

That settled, Nick cautiously made his way down the stairs, a task which took him perhaps fifteen minutes, as every step made his legs nearly crumple beneath him, made the breath leave his lungs in sharp gasps that were hell on his surely bruised-all-to-hell torso.

Eventually, though, he made it out of the building, and set on a slow limp for Monroe’s house, which was fortunately only four blocks away. 

Approximately an hour, three stumbles, one excruciatingly painful fall, and countless winces and groans later, Nick was standing on Monroe’s porch, belatedly realizing he had no idea what time it was. Middle of the night, he figured, not sure exactly how much time had passed during his beating. But he was here already, so there was no sense in not knocking. 

Almost immediately, Monroe opened the door.

“Dude,” he said, a look of shock on his face. “What happened to you?”

Nick pushed past him into the house, making a beeline for the couch, which he promptly collapsed onto with a poorly-concealed wince. 

“Sorry to bother you in the middle of the night,” he whispered, his voice scratching. He put a hand to his throat, and suddenly there was another hand pulling it away.

“That looks...ouch,” Monroe said, eloquently. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital or something?”

Nick shook his head slightly. “Didn’t want to...why I came here.”

“Oh,” Monroe said. “I hadn’t realized we were at this stage of our friendship.”

“I can...I can leave,” Nick suggested, trying and failing to stand.

“No, no, don’t move,” Monroe said, gently pushing Nick back down. “I’ll uh...I’ll be back. Just give me a minute.”

He left, leaving Nick to lay his head back against the cushions, belatedly hoping that he wasn’t bleeding all over Monroe’s couch. 

A few minutes later, Monroe returned, his arms overloaded with what looked like an entire hospital’s worth of medical supplies. 

“I wasn’t sure what to get,” he said apologetically, setting it down with a loud clatter. 

“‘M I bleeding?” Nick asked, ignoring the supplies.

“A little. Your forehead’s pretty bloody. So’s like, the whole part of your face under your nose. It’s not bleeding now, though,” Monroe added quickly. 

“‘S good,” Nick figured. 

“I guess so,” Monroe agreed. “I’m gonna start with that, then. The blood, I mean.”

Nick nodded his assent, once again leaning his head back into the couch cushions, closing his eyes. A soft cloth touched his forehead, cool and damp and way more comforting than it had any right to be. Slowly, it moved down his face, at last coming to a stop below his chin.

“That’s that done,” Monroe said, clapping his hands together. “Now I’m assuming that whoever did this to you didn’t limit themselves to just your face?”

“No,” Nick agreed, briefly blinking open his eyes.

“Can I uh, take off your jacket then?”

“Sure.”

“And probably your shirt.”

“Yeah.”

The jacket came off fairly painlessly, but the shirt presented a problem.

“Unless you can move your arms up, this shirt’s not going anywhere.”

Nick shook his head. Even doing that hurt, let alone raising his arms. “Can’t,” he said, to emphasize the point.

“I gotta do something, man.”

“Do it,” Nick said.

“What? Nick. Do what?”

Nick, however, had used up all of his energy. He said nothing, just sighed and grimaced when the action brought him more pain.

“I really hope this is what you meant, ‘cause I’m not buying you another shirt,” Monroe said grimly, and then he began cutting down the front of Nick’s shirt. He pulled it off, audibly wincing when he saw the damage to Nick’s upper body.

“‘S bad?” Nick managed to find the strength to whisper. 

“Yeah, buddy. It’s bad. I’ll clean this up as much as I can, but you should really go to the hospital. You might have broken ribs or internal bleeding or something.”

Nick raised a shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. Those worries could wait for later. After he’d slept.

Monroe began cleaning and bandaging Nick’s upper body. He poked at the bruises a good deal harder than Nick would’ve liked, and Nick hadn’t had the heart (or the strength) to tell him that there was little point in wrapping bandages around his ribs, but overall, he did a good job of cleaning away the spots of blood and dirt that covered Nick’s skin, and the cream he’d applied to the bruises (some kind of natural remedy, he’d said), seemed to actually be working. Nick felt...marginally less terrible.

“I think that’s it. You want me to do anything else, or…?” Monroe trailed off.

“I wanna sleep,” Nick said, wondering vaguely whether he was allowed to stay.

“Go ahead,” Monroe suggested. “I’d offer you the guest room, but I can’t imagine you’re in any shape for the stairs.”

“Couch’s fine,” Nick mumbled, already on the verge of sleep. “‘S nice.” 

“Good night,” he heard Monroe say, and then he was distantly aware of being gently moved to lie down, and then he felt something very warm and a little scratchy being draped over him, and then his shoes were gone, and then he was asleep.

thanks for reading this! apologies if its not so good i have like no time to edit lol

[j-elaine-hyde]

The Bean Chronicles - Before Bean Part 3

You were curled up in a blanket sitting in the movie theater at your and Chris’ home when Ashley walked in.

“Hey girl. Chris is doing some interviews today. He wanted me to remind you, he’ll be back later tonight. As far as you’re concerned, there’s something we need to do.” She pulled her arm around from behind her back, in her hand were four pregnancy tests. “I think we already know... but let’s be sure.”

You stared at her before climbing out of your chair. “Do you really think that’s what it is?”

“Girl... don’t be dumb. Let’s go pee!”

You nervously peed on the stick and quickly put the cap on and set it gently on the counter, careful not to look at the tiny digital screen. You stared at the ceiling as you washed your hands before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Well?” Ashley questioned staring at you.

“I couldn’t look. I left it in there.” You slid down the wall onto the floor.

“Why are you so nervous? You have Captain Fucking America as a baby daddy. He proposed to you in Fenway Park in front of the world, with the worlds largest diamond ever. You guys are disgustingly in love. You have millions, he has millions. You have a beautiful home. You’re the luckiest woman in the universe.... and now you’re about to have what will probably be the prettiest baby on the planet. Tons of women and men would kill to be you, any given day.”

“Well when you put it that way.... Chris and I haven’t talked about kids... I mean we kind of did one time... but I -“

“He was made to be a dad. Trust me. He’ll be over the moon excited. You think he was happy when you said yes?! Wait until you see how happy he is to find out he’s gonna be a dad.”

“Maybe. I mean he’ll obviously be the greatest dad ever.... but...”

“But nothing bitch. I’m gonna go look.” Ashley rushed into the bathroom. She was back in the hallway in a split second holding the test. Her face emotionless.

“What does it say?!” You were panicked, a painful ball developing in your throat.

“Sup Mommy!” Ashley screamed and jumped around. “You’re pregnant heifer!”

Your jaw dropped, your hands flew to your stomach as you looked down and then back at Ashley. You stood up, hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“Holy shit.”

—

You were so incredibly nervous and excited to tell Chris. With Ashley’s help you found the perfect way to tell him. You laid out the onesies with two of the four tests you took throughout the day. All said pregnant. Ashley scheduled a doctors appointment for you and blocked out that day with Chris’s assistant. All he had to do now was come home.

You waited in the living room. Snuggled up in a blanket watching tv. As soon as Chris got home he’d walk over to the table and set down his keys. On that very table lay his surprise.

You prayed he’d be excited. You fell asleep waiting on him to get home and were woken up to Chris kneeling on the floor in front of you crying and holding your stomach.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He asked you, grinning from ear to ear, tears running down his face.

You nodded yes and he lunged forward kissing you before sliding down and kissing your stomach.

“Hello little bean...” he whispered as he lay his head against you. He looked up at you, “What do we do?!” Panic covered his face.

You laughed softly as he looked up at you. “We have our first doctors appointment in two weeks. Ash already put it in your schedule.”

“Two weeks?! Did she tell them who we are?! Can we call someone tonight? What about the ER? Why two weeks?!”

You patted the sofa next to you. He sat down as you crawled into his lap. You pulled up your phone and opened a pregnancy tracker app. The two of you talked late into the night before heading to bed. You were just about asleep when Chris laid his head on your stomach.

“Do you want Bean to be a boy or a girl? What about names? We have to pick a room to be a nursery. Have you told Dodger he’s going to be a big brother? Do we need to find a nanny? We have to get a crib. And diapers. We-“

“Need to get some sleep. We have nine months to get all of that taken care of love. I’m sure you’ll have it done before I know it. But tonight, let’s just be happy and get some sleep.” You yawned and stretched, stroking Chris’ hair.

“You’re right babe. I’m just so excited. I can’t wait to be a dad. I can’t believe we’re pregnant. I’m the luckiest man alive.” His words warmed your heart. “I love you baby momma.” He chuckled thinking his joke was funny.

“I love you. So much. But I’m building a baby. It’s hard work. I’m so sleepy. We’ll talk in the morning.” You sleepily laughed as you quickly dozed off, Chris still laying next to you with his hand on your stomach.

— 2 Weeks Later —

“10 weeks?!” Chris did the math in his head. “Babe.... that was the night we got engaged. It’s a Fenway baby! When do we find out if Bean is a boy or a girl?”

The doctor smiled at Chris as she performed the ultrasound. Your eyes were wide as you stared at the screen. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Baby.... look! It’s Bean. Holy shit.”

-

Chris drove the two of you home. You were quiet, staring out the window, thinking about your little Bean Evans.

“Babe... I think we should go back East. Hole up out there. At least the spring and summer won’t be bad out there. Because you’re going to be about to pop, and I don’t want you in the LA heat for that. I’m wicked excited Bean is going to get here around my birthday. Whatcha think?”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea... listen... hon... Chris. I don’t wanna tell anyone for a few more weeks. Ok? I don’t wanna jinx it.”

He opened his mouth and then promptly shut it. “Baby... are you worried?”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “A little. We’re not out of the woods for another couple of weeks. I just don’t want anything to happen.” You confessed.

“We don’t have to say anything to anyone yet. It’s ok baby. It’s only a couple weeks, then we’re in the clear, and you can travel safely. Let’s get you home.”

-

Ashley had been busy. Busy doing what you weren’t sure. But she practically kept you locked in the movie theater that entire day. She’d come in and check on you, making sure to tell you to text her if you needed anything. Chris was in meetings all day and gone. You were starting to get hungry, deciding to go get some food you climbed out of your chair just as Ashley was walking into the room.

“What are you doing?! Why are you up?!” She questioned.

“I was hungry.”

“Get back in your chair! What do you want? I’ll get it. You stay put.”

You glared are her as you settled back in.

“Carrots. Baby carrots. With a tiny bit of ranch.”

“Stay here. I’ll get it.” She scolded you with a finger wag as she closed the door behind her.

Your phone pinged a familiar tone. Your love was texting you.

Ash came back in with a plate of carrots and ranch. “Here you go. I’ll be back in a little bit. Try and get some sleep. Text me if you need anything. If you get up again, I’ll tie you to that chair.”

“Fine. Whatever. Thank you. Go away.”

Ash rolled her eyes and laughed as she walked out of the room.

You must have dozed off. Your plate was on the floor, next to your phone. Another episode of “Finding Bigfoot” was playing that you hadn’t seen. The door creaked open as Chris’s head popped in.

“You’re awake!” He smiled as he came in shutting the door quickly behind him.

“Does the warden know you’re in here?” You cracked a small weary smile as he leaned down over you to kiss you.

“Oooohhhhahahaha no no. Hands off. I was reading that we shouldn’t have sex until you’re in your second trimester.” He moved your hand off of his package as he sat down next to you.

“Seriously?! I can’t leave the chair. I can’t have sex. The furthest I can go is the bathroom, and again, that’s right there. Wait, why can’t we have sex?!”

“Baby... I wanna ask you something...” he held your hand in his, staring at your giant engagement ring. “Would you marry me?”

“Honey... Chris.... you already asked me that. And I said yes.... you feelin ok?”

“No baby.... I meant today. Come with me.”

“Wait- what??”

Taking your hand, Chris led you out of the theater. Walking into the elevator you rode up to the first floor and walked out onto the balcony outside.

Chris, Ashley and a team of people had been working all day in the backyard creating a wedding wonderland.

“With Ashley’s help, I’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. All of our friends and families are coming and will be here in like four hours.”

You stood there completely shocked and surprised. You were speechless. Chris continued leading you into the backyard, to the private alcove near your bedroom.

“Is that the right one?” He asked sliding his arms around your waist.

Your hands flew to your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as you laughed, “Oh my god.... honey.... Chris- how did you? When- Baby this is perfect. That’s the dress.... Oh my god....”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your buried your face against him.

“Is it perfect baby? Do you like it all? Thankfully we had your Pinterest and a some very crafty talented friends to make this happen.”

“I can’t wait to become Mrs. Evans tonight. This is incredible hon. I don’t even know what to say.... Thank you.” You gently wiped the tears from your eyes.

“I couldn’t wait any longer... I needed you to be my wife. I wanted to do this for you, before we get so wrapped up with Bean. I love you baby... I hope you love it.”

“It’s almost as perfect as you.” You kissed him before your entire glam squad walked out onto the patio.

“Hey girl! You’re getting married!! Let’s get you ready!! Chris! We have a small team waiting to get you ready out in the guest house.”

“I’ll see you later baby!” He stole a quick kiss before you were pulled inside to get ready.

[ryeguns]

hey! so ive been missing streams 😭 and i was wondering wtf has been happening in the dream smp since the election results were revealed? i'm so lost and i really dont wanna watch all the streams 😔😔😔

oh god a loooot has happened; i personally recommend watching wilburs edited vids on his channel if u rlly want to understand everything but ill give a basic summary!! 

major MAJOR spoilers for the dream smp (obviously) so if u don't want to hear about it then don't continue on (also its kinda long bcause all i think about is the dream smp-)

SO schlatt and quackity won the election, schlatt banished wilbur & tommy from l’manberg & renamed l’manberg to manberg. wilbur and tommy created a new place called pogtopia which is a bit away from the manberg / main area. quackity is schlatts vice president, tubbo is secretary of state (i believe?)

 tubbo is a spy and is secretly working for pogtopia. technoblade joins the server and joins pogtopia to help take down schlatt. all he did for the most part was farm potatoes...and breed horses....

dream reveals he doesnt support schlatt out of fear that schlatt will begin to take over the entierty of the dream smp, but he cant show his support of pogtopia publicly. niki doesnt like schlatt, schlatt taxes her, they just hate each other in general. fundy is also secretly a spy, but hes not directly giving info to anyone, he just keeps a journal about what he has learned. fundy begins to question what side he supports, and begins to lean more in favor of schlatt because schlatt has been cleaning up the area and basically has been making everything look nice. 

tommy and tubbo make a giant tunnel under manberg that leads to pogtopia (which is also connect to the prime path for, well, obvious reasons). technoblade has mostly just been trying to get the best gear for himself & has been trying to breed the best horse (he gets a trident at one point). 

wilbur goes insane and believes he and tommy are on the bad side of history, that they’re the villians. wilbur gives up on getting l’manberg back and has settled on just blowing it all to shit so no one can have it. dream backs wilburs plan and supplies him with TNT and wilbur rigs the entire underground of manberg with TNT (much like dream did in l’manberg during the dream smp war) tommy doesnt support wilburs decision to blow everything up. 

(this isnt exactly really story-related but sapnap killed tommys cow, henry, and dream, techno, and tommy teamed up to fight sapnap and a few others. idk it isnt rlly important to the plot but i enjoyed it so :D)

schlatt announces there will be a manberg festival, in celebration of democracy and everything. wilbur decides thats the day hes going to blow everything up. tommy still doesnt support wilburs plan. tubbo and fundy (and i think quackity?? idk) set up for the festival. tubbo has a speech written for the festival and one of the lines is the cue for wilbur to press the button to blow everything up.

the day of the festival comes along, schlatt gives a few speeches, wilbur and tommy watch from the top of one of the buildings. everyone is invited (even technoblade) to the festival, except wilbur and tommy. technoblade brings and OP rocket launcher crossbow and tries to get info on manberg. they play games and stuff.

 wilbur starts to question if he really wants to go through with blowing everything up (because he will be blowing up all his friends in the process) and tommy continues to try to talk him down. wilbur ends up asking tubbo what he should do, and tubbo doesnt know. wilbur tells tubbo that if he says the cue in the speech, he’ll do it, and if he doesn’t, he wont. tubbos speech comes along eventually, and at the end he hesitates saying the cue, and schlatt begins to ask if he had anything more to say. tubbo eventually does say the cue, and wilbur goes and runs off to find the button to blow everything up. 

schlatt starts encasing tubbo in a box and wilbur gets distracted and goes back to see what is going on. schlatt announces infront of everyone that tubbo is a traitor. schlatt calls technoblade up to the stage and tells technoblade to “take him out”. technoblade tries to stall, wilbur and tommy assure tubbo that techno is on their side and wont hurt him. techno gives in to peer pressure and kills tubbo with the rocket launcher crossbow, killing schlatt and quackity in the process (because they were on stage as well and just vacinity stuff yknow).

tommy and wilbur panic. wilbur goes and rushes to find the button, but cant find it. tommy reveals his position and goes in to kill techno, claiming techno has betrayed them. techno just starts shooting his rocket launcher into the crowd, killing basically everyone. tommy and tubbo meet up in the manberg-pogtopia tunnel. wilbur, tommy, tubbo, and techno all go back to pogtopia. wilbur and tommy are the most mad at techno, but wilbur forgives him. tommy doesnt and still believes hes a traitor. wilbur manipulates tommy and tells him to use that anger and to kill techno, so they fight in a pit that wilbur made. tommy dies, and everything is basically settled (though tommy is still mad at techno). niki also joins pogtopia. niki, tubbo, and tommy meet up just outside pogtopia and discuss whats going on. they all agree that wilbur has lost his mind and that they can only trust each other, and they begin to discuss plans of building up pogtopia so they can fight back to reclaim l’manberg. sentimental bit of them three looking off into the sunset as tommy plays the original blocks disc. 

schlatt doesnt really care what happened, him, quackity, fundy, and a few others continue to play games after the whole techno thing. (i believe something with antfrost, bbh, and awesamdude happened? i dont quite know because i havent watched their pov yet but i believe they formed some kind of alliance to fight against schlatt? correct me if im wrong-) schlatt starts talking about his plans for manberg. he plans to replace the hto dog van with an apartment complex. fundy, quackity, bbh, antfrost, and awesamdude try to talk him down from it. they eventually come to an agreement that the appartment building will be built around it, so you cant see it. schlatt kills a few cats for no real reason. schlatt talks about how he wants to remove the white house (the one quackity built with wilbur and such), quackity gets defensive and tells him not to destroy it as it is a symbol of peace and he worked hard on it. schlatt still wants it to be removed but they plan to discuss it at a later time. fundy is left alone, he questions which side he supports. he is now more in favor of wilburs side because of the public execution of tubbo and the fact he killed cats. 

day after the festival quackity and schlatt are on, tommy eventually joins as well. tommy plans to JFK schlatt and goes over to manberg to do so. he watches quackity and schlatt from a far, who are both at the white house. theyre both arguing over whether the white house should stay or go. schlatt wants it gone, quackity doesnt. tommy doesnt make a move and continues to watch. schlatt begins to insult the white house and starts to take it down. quackity gets pissed and kills schlatt and claims that he is no longer a part of manberg and proceeds to run off into the forest. schlatt then continues to demolish the rest of the white house. 

tommy goes after quackity; quackity joins pogtopia and they head off to pogtopia. wilbur gets on and claims he has found where the button is and that he doesnt care if no one else is on, all he wants to do is kill schlatt and blow everything up. tommy tells wilbur quackity has now joined them. quackity and tommy then proceed to build a giant dick infront of the manberg flag.

 wilbur then goes and shows quackity and tommy the button, quackity finds out about wilburs plan as a result. wilbur tries to push the button multiple times and quackity and tommy try to talk him down from pressing it. quackity says the only reason he ran against wilbur was to prevent dictatorship. they continue to attempt to stop wilbur from pressing the button. tommy at one point stands infront of the button and wilbur tells him to move to the side if he trusts him. tommy hesitates, but then moved. wilbur then destroys the button. wilbur says that now tommy will be leading them and making the next move. before returning to pogtopia to discuss the new plan, wilbur asks for quackity and tommy to wait outside. theres a sad moment and wilbur sings the l’manberg anthem and places the button back and says its just incase, as a backup, just so he knows that if something goes wrong, he can always rely on the button.

the three head back to pogtopia and discuss a plan. im going to be honest i was v lost on what they were saying when discussing the plans because they were all talking at once basically but the first plan, named plan a, is to use quackity to get to schlatt (its named plan a because ass...), then the second plan, plan 1, is yet to be determined, and the last plan, if those two fail, is plan b, which is to go with wilburs original plan of blowing everything to shit (b because bomb haha) 

YEA thats the basic summary i think? theres a lot of other details like the fact that fundy, tubbo, and sapnap are now dreamon hunters but !! yea. sorry for this being so long aaaaaaa

[limeblood-exe]

A Singular, Bloody Mattress (part 1)

tw: blood

The warehouse door bursts open, slamming against the concrete wall; the sharp sound thundering through the thick silence of night. Dust plumes and scatters as the old and abused door falls off its rusted hinges, the only sign of movement besides three masked figures who stealthily make their way inside. 

Mikey, wielding an odachi in place of his signature kusari-fundo, frantically glances around the abandoned mattress warehouse, surveying for any threats amongst the giant columns and rows of mattresses with an uncharacteristic expression of apprehension smearing his features. Joined in his search, Donnie approaches a much shorter column of mattresses, about his height, and stops to inspect one with his goggles.

“All clear,” Mikey whispers, determining that the deafening silence means that no present danger is lurking in the shadows. Not that they really expected any threats from a mattress store, but anything's possible when with them. 

Glancing behind him at Raph, who stood back for the all clear before entering any further into the building, he waits for further instruction from his leader.

Raph, holding a blanketed figure in his arms, nods at Mikey, and both relax their posture at the promise of no current danger.

“Do you think we were followed?”

Sharing Mikey’s worried expression, Raph tries to smile in an effort to placate his distressed younger brother, though it probably comes out more as a grimace when replying, “With that cool stunt you pulled off earlier? Not a chance. I don’t think those freaky Foot guys were expecting to get roasted with that fire tornado of yours. I bet you they’re running back home with their tails between their legs!”

Mikey responds in kind with a timid smile; he’s always welcome to any of his older brothers’ praise, soaking them up like a needy sponge. Besides, it was pretty cool what he did back there.

None of them had expected to be jumped by those two Foot dudes, having just left April’s house from a fun night of trying out the new board games her parents bought her. Now that he’s thinking back on it, they probably should have been more concerned with the fact that their enemies had actively sought them out rather than the turtles running into them by happenstance. The paper ninjas they commonly used were totally different this time around, and not just because of the change of color scheme (an ugly shade of dark green, if you were to ask Mikey his professional opinion). 

They didn’t have any hands.

Well, they did have hands, just in the shape of blades.

Really, really sharp blades.

The vomit-colored paper was obviously mystic, no inspection from Donnie needed. No paper should be allowed to cut cleanly through concrete for goodness sake. It shouldn’t be allowed to cut through shells, either-

Remembering why they were seeking shelter in the first place, Mikey’s gaze darts down to the bundle in Raph’s gentle hold, the blood seeping through the blue blanket. His face immediately falls, and he feels queasy at the sight of the red puddle already starting to form on the floor. Blood that should be inside his brother, not drenching some stranger’s blanket they stole from a clothes’ line. Mikey opens his mouth but before he can voice his question, he is interrupted by a heavy “plop” to his right. Bodies tensed, Ralph and Mikey whip around for the cause of the noise, only to see Donnie airing out one of the mattresses. Dust clouds the surrounding air, getting caught in the lungs of his unsuspecting brothers and a massive coughing fit follows. Donnie, unperturbed, just drags the offending mattress away from the dust cloud and drops it to the floor, wiping his hands against his thighs with a look of disgust on his face.

Facing Raph, Donnie says, “Lay him down here. I can't get a proper looksy otherwise,” while nodding in the direction of the mattress.

Following his brother's directions, Raph stifles down a cough as he kneels down next to the mattress, but hesitates for a brief moment.

“Don’t worry, Raph, I already scanned it. They’re safe. These mattresses are definitely older than most of Splinter’s clothing, but just as filthy, if you were to ask me, but they’re relatively clean,” Donnie reaffirms him.

“It’s not that, Donnie.”

And it's not. Not really. Swallowing thickly, Raph gently lays down his far-too-quiet and limp brother to the mattress, trying to be as slow and careful his large body will allow him. While Raph was as gentle as he could possibly be, even the faintest of movement jostles his younger brother, and a pitiful whimper escapes from his throat. Raph can’t help but wince, as hurting his own flesh and blood, even unintentionally, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It doesn’t help that Leo looks absolutely awful. From what’s peaking out from the blanket, his eyes are pressed tightly shut, skin cool and clammy to the touch, and sweat beads at his creased forehead. He sounds awful, too, with his rattling lungs gasping for air like he just got done running a marathon, as if he wasn’t just carried for three whole blocks. Raph may not have as extensive of medical knowledge as Leo and Donnie do, what with Donnie’s general interest in all sciences and Leo being the medic of the team, but he knows signs of shock when he sees it.

His brother has lost far too much blood for comfort.

Donnie wastes no time in getting to work, carefully unwrapping Leo from the blanket. Donnie and Raph hiss at what is revealed from the confines of the blanket; a deep gash on the lower left side of Leo’s abdomen, his plastron having been neatly cut through deep enough to injure the skin and tissue that was supposed to be protected by thick shell. Thick rivulets of blood seep from the wound and cascade down Leo’s side even with the gray hoodie, also stolen, wrapped tightly around him to halt the bleeding.

“That doesn’t look good, Donnie,” Raph whispers after a second, trying (and failing) to reel in his worried thoughts about how quiet Leo is. He’s never quiet; it's basically Leo's given nature to never shut up. Yet, here they are now, and Raph would give up just about anything to hear one of Leo’s one-liners.

"No, no it does not," Donnie nods in agreement. His brows are deeply furrowed as he gently prods the edges of Leo’s laceration. 

“I’ll have to analyze just how deep the wound is. I have to get the bleeding under control, too, or he won’t even make it back to the lair in time,” Donnie states matter-of-factly. If Raph didn’t know his brother any better or notice the slight shake in his voice or the way his hands trembled, he might believe that Donnie seemed unfazed by his brother’s condition. But he knows, and they all know, that Donnie's attempts at appearing emotionless is just a facade he hides under.

As Donnie starts to delicately remove the sodden hoodie, the fabric gets caught on the jagged skin, causing Leo to let out a sudden gasp, back arching from the sudden pain, and his breathing becomes more erratic. Recoiling, Donnie puts a placating hand on Leo's cheek.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry,” Donnie mutters to Leo, gently thumbing away the tears that start streaming down his face. Raph is so taken aback by Leo’s reaction that he doesn’t even bother to chastise Donnie for his potty mouth.

"Is… is Leo gonna be okay?"

Raph faces his youngest brother, whose arms are clutching tightly around Leo’s sword. Mikey's gaze is locked to the floor, eyes wide with unshed tears. He looks so lost and scared, so devoid of his regular pep and overall cheer, that Raph has to suppress the overwhelming urge to engulf his brother in a giant hug.

His brothers need him right now. He might not be able to help Leo like Donnie can, but he's still their leader. He is still their big brother.

“Leo’s gonna be just fine,” Raph starts, approaching to grasp Mikey’s shoulders in his large hands, squeezing gently. “He’s strong, you know that. Remember that time when we thought Leo got lost in the sewers, and he did, but he found his way back? We spent hours searching for the guy and the cheeky bastard was home the entire time, eating the last of the oreos. Or what about that time he broke his arm doing that stupid double back-flip he saw in a video once when he was seven? He only cried like twice the whole time!"

Mikey looks at him, eyes glistening and mouth wobbling.

"I know my brothers. If there's one thing I can count on Leo, it's that he always pulls through in the end."

Silence fills the air for just a brief moment, filled only with the labored breathing of Leo. That brief moment is all Mikey needs, however. He presses his lips into a thin line and vigorously wipes at his tears with his forearm. After taking a composing breath through his nose, Mikey asks, "What do we do now?”

Isn't that the question. It’s far too dangerous to go back the way they came, not with the Foot Clan still searching for them knowing they have the advantage with one turtle down. And especially not with those new paper ninjas.

They’re incredibly lucky that when Mikey resorted to using his fire tornado, it was discovered that while mystic paper, it was still just paper and fell to the power of its natural enemy. Of course, that was after one managed to get the jump on Leo.

Raph can still vividly feel the gut punch he got when his own brother's screaming pierced his ears, the way his blood chilled in his veins and his heart plummeted. The raw fear of thinking oh god my little brother is dead.

He shakes his head. There'll be time to digest today's events later, when they're home and Leo's patched up and back to his annoying self, using his injury to his advantage so that his brothers may tend to his beck and call. And they'll fall for it too, of course, cause that's what family does for each other.

So, they can’t go back the way they came, what else then? The main sewer entrance for the lair is too far away to just make a run for it, especially being above ground. Raph could have Donnie track down another near manhole, but not only is Donnie currently busy using his tech to scan Leo’s injury checking the severity of it, they'll have no way of knowing if that manhole is connected to their sewer line unless they're in it. And even if that does happen to be connected to the lair, it's still quite a long distance to travel with someone who doesn't have any time to spare.

Dammit, he needs to think! Raph isn't the greatest at coming up with plans; he's always been more of a "smash first, talk later" kind of a guy. 

And look where that got them. Raph's baby brother is bleeding out to death, they're being pursued by the stupid flame-heads with deadly (well, deadlier) paper ninjas with nowhere to go, and they're stuck in a mattress store of all places. 

Leo would have known what to do. Hell, he'd have gotten them home by now with one of his portals, where they'd be enjoying the rest of their evening with pizza and a movie.

But they're not home. They're stuck with no where to run to, and Raph can't think.

“I-I don’t know," Raph stutters, self-doubt numbing his mind, jumbling his thoughts like clothes in a dryer, spinning and spinning. "I don't-"

“I c'n port'l us.”

Shocked, Raph whips around. Leo, even though his face is twisted with pain and his arms tremble, struggles to hoist himself to his elbows, swatting at Donnie's attempts to push him back down. Leo’s breathing extremely hard from the exertion of just sitting up, but he remains upright out of sheer stubbornness.

“I c’n get us-shit,” Leo grits through his teeth. Donnie, relenting to his brother's will, wraps an arm around Leo's shoulders, taking most of the weight as he leans him up. Glaring up at Raph, eyes blaring with fierce determination, he finishes with more clarity in his voice, “I can get us home.”

“No, absolutely not! Not in the condition you’re in.” 

Raph knows that with Leo now awake, they have a chance, a real good chance, of escaping their ridiculous predicament and getting Leo proper medical treatment. And Leo is the only one who can do it; he's the only one who can use his sword after all. But Leo can't even sit up without Donnie's support, which he clarifies as he gestures to Leo, “You can’t even sit upright on your own, how are you gonna hold a 30 lbs sword?”

“Oh yeah? Watch me."

Leo moves to stand up, pulling away from Donnie, but as soon as he draws his legs beneath him and shifts his weight, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he lists to the side. If it weren’t for his older brother, he would’ve faced-planted the floor. 

“Woah, woah, easy there ‘Nardo,” Donnie smoothly scolds, pressing his brother back to the comfort of the mattress. Leo hasn’t lost his battle with unconsciousness yet, grasping harshly onto Donnie’s bicep. His big brother grimaces but ultimately ignores it. After Leo's breathing evens out, Donnie gives his younger brother an exasperated look.

“Well, that was the dumbest thing you could have done.”

Leo rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, sh-shuddup, you weirdo asshole.”

Donnie snorts.

“Glad to know your personality is still somewhat intact. Though, I think you're more so the asshole here, seeing as I'm the one trying to be helpful and all.”

"Whatev', you just doin' this for yer own sake."

"Ah, yes. I have been wanting someone to be in my unquestionable debt recently, since I’m entirely incapable of doing anything from the goodness of my heart. Thank you for reminding me, Leon. I’ll be sure to remember this the next time you try to unload your chore duties onto me."

Leo tiredly gives one of his signature smirks, "No problemo."

Donnie's face turns stern.

“But seriously, Raph’s right. Being completely honest with you, I don’t even know how you’re still conscious right now.” Even as they speak, Leo’s eyes start to lose their focus, glazing over with exhaustion. Even eye-rolling and smirking seems to take away any energy he has left, and if Leo wasn't currently bleeding like a stuck pig, he would've gasped at the audacity of it all.

“I can do this," and Leo looks at Raph knowingly. "I always pull through in the end, remember?"

He's using his own words against him, Raph realizes. He must have been awake enough to hear his conversation with Mikey.

And he did say that, but if Raph was honest with himself, he mostly said those words to comfort Mikey. The odds are stacked against his brother right now. He doesn't have general mishaps anymore forming portals, but there are occasional days when Leo still struggles. Today, though, had been an average day, with Leo having successfully transported them directly in April's living room just earlier this evening, but failing to open one to the lair when the game night ended.

And there are plenty of examples of Leo triumphing when he reasonably shouldn't have. But looking at his brother now, bleeding and sickly and dying, he can't help the tendrils of doubt that suffocate him, snaking their way into his subconscious. 

But Raph knows his brothers. Even amongst doubt, Leo always does come through, in some way or another. 

Raph trusts his brothers, and he will trust Leo in his word that he can get them home.

After all, Raph's not one to make plans. He's never needed to really, not with his brothers by his side.

"I know."

Raph glances over to Mikey, communicating with a single look.

Mikey understands completely.

There's no time to debate whether Leo can do it or not. Every second that passes is another second of Leo losing more blood. Donnie might be pressing the hoodie into the large cut, but it’s not enough to entirely stop the flow.

At that moment, a large crash reverberates from just beyond the warehouse walls, the sound similar to the likes of a building collapsing in on itself. Dread stifles the air; their hiding spot will soon be found, it's only a matter of time. 

“You got this," Mikey encourages, presenting Leo with the handle of his odachi. Raph and Donnie watch, faces scrunched with anticipation. As Leo grasps the odachi, he breathes deeply, preparing himself both physically and mentally. 

His arm pathetically quivers as he lifts his sword from Mikey's hold. Raising the familiar object to its full weight, Leo heaves himself forward, sending white sparks across his vision as the pain blooms from his side. Blood begins to pool in his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek to refrain passing out. 

Focus.

Focus on his breathing; focus on imagining the lair, the skateboard ramps, the untouched, warm pizza sitting on the counter waiting back home that Splinter had promised them.

Letting all other thoughts evade his mind; let's them fall to the ground like forgotten crumbs off of a home-cooked meal Mikey had prepared; let's them fall off his shoulders and into the drain like water when Leo spends too much time brooding in the shower and his brothers get upset at him for stealing all the hot water again.

Clearing his mind, Leo draws in the formation of a circle with the tip of his sword and blue light zaps and sparkles from his odachi.

But no portal forms. Halfway through, his muscles seize up, locked with overexertion, and he can't complete the circle. His sword lowers to rest on the ground, nearly falling from his grip altogether, his arms too tired to properly hold it.

His body has betrayed him, refusing to move when he commands it; feeling like he's trying to move around in thick syrup.

He didn't do it. His brothers' faith in him was misguided, and they're all gonna die here, not just Leo. 

No! Not wanting to give up, Leo tries again. An even more pathetic attempt than the first. His body protests his wishes, and his sword stays put as though it trying to tell him that he's already beat.

Hands are suddenly upon him, grasping the hilt of the odachi next to his own and resting on the back of his shell. His brothers are here, helping him bear the weight alongside him. 

"We gotchu, Leo!" There's Mikey's positive attitude, refreshing to hear as always. "Just focus on making a portal, we'll take care of the rest."

In the distance, another boom can be heard, louder and closer than before. Raph faces the direction it came from, protectively standing over his brothers as Mikey and Donnie crouch beside Leo.

Reaching his zen mode, confidence from knowing he's not doing this alone, Leo directs his sword to move in a circular motion, his two brothers following his lead and finishing in a perfect circle.

And like a miracle itself, a beautiful brilliance of blues fills the dark warehouse, and a perfect portal stares back at them.

Quick successions of multiple slashes can be heard, and the wall behind them explodes, raining heavy chunks of concrete and plaster all around them. Mattresses, carried by the blast, careen through the air, experiencing freedom for the first time in so many years. 

Wasting no time, Donnie throws Leo over his shoulder despite the weak protest, leaping into the portal. Behind him, Mikey and Raph follow, but not before Mikey gives the Foot Heads a taunting wave, blowing raspberries as he jumps through the portal. Leaving behind two very frustrated villains, having been outsmarted once again by the turtles and left with nothing but a single dusty and bloody mattress for their efforts, they can do nothing but stew in their hatred.

"Gah, those pesky turtles," the shorter one of the duo rasps. They had gotten so close this time, too. But they still have their new weapons at the ready; all they need as another opportunity to strike, then those pests will never bother them again.

Just as they're about to leave the warehouse, the larger of the two stops by the mattress, picking up what looks like a familiar blanket.

"Hey wait a minute, isn't that-" He doesn't get to finish that statement, with a scraping scream interrupting him.

"Noo! My Lou Jitsu: Punch Chowder hoodie!"

[preferredrealty]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time - A Mob!Shawn Mendes Series

Part 5 - Texts and Tasers 

Warnings: Tasers and swearing

Masterlist 

As always: Feedback is appreciated 💛🌻

(Y/N) stared blankly down at the pavement in front of her, the white fila trainers on her feet the only thing she focused on. As if the world knew she was in a sour mood, thunder clouds rolled over the city early this morning, raining since the early hours. 

She felt like her entire outlook on life had changed, she looked around her and didn't know if she could trust anyone, anybody could be a gang member in this city, anybody could be a thief, a murderer. A City she once seen nothing but opportunity in had now become a blackhole in her mind, sucking in everything good and turning it into nothing. 

The music blasting through her earphone had just switched songs when she glanced up and seen a shady looking man trying to stop people on the street, holding open one side of his jacket, she could make out think black rectangles lining one side of his coat making her speed up her steps to reach him. "How much?" She asked making the man jump, as he stuttered to actually get his words out, shocked to have a customer. 

- 

iMessage from Shawn: I know I said if it's really what you wanted that I would stay away but I can't get you out of my mind. 

iMessage from Shawn: I stopped by the diner. Deloris said you've been off sick. Are you okay?

iMessage from Shawn: Just let me know you're okay baby. It's been three weeks please talk to me.

(Y/N) groaned looking at the messages from Shawn as she pulled her coat off, hanging it on a familiar peg at the diner, looking around it feeling safe in her favourite spot in the world. 

"Hey baby." A soft voice cooed from behind her, spinning she sighed throwing herself into Deloris' waiting arms squeezing her in a much needed hug. "Hey Deloris." She smiled pulling back, tying her white apron over her pink waitress uniform. "Want to talk about it?" Deloris whispered as Greg passed by giving a nod to (Y/N) in recognition. "Nope, I want to forget about the past few months. They never happened." (Y/N) said with a strong voice, walking away towards Greg to see what needed done. 

As Deloris left the kitchen Greg put an arm over (Y/N)'s shoulder with a giant smile. "Say the word and I'll make him regret it." (Y/N) shook her head with a giggle pushing Greg's arm off as she loaded a order onto the silver trey, whizzing out of the swinging doors, a smile on her face that could win an Oscar.

"Can you take that table baby? I'm busy with this one." Deloris nodded towards a table at the far side of the diner where four particularly large men had just sat down. "Sure." (Y/N) sighed tucking a lose piece of hair behind her ear as she walked towards them, the smile plastering on her face one again.  "Afternoon gentlemen, what can I get for y'all today?" She asked with a cheerful tone. 

"Hmm" One of the men started, leaning on the table his eyes racking up and down (Y/N) making her shift uncomfortably. " I think I'll start with a Strawberry milkshake, I hear they're to die for." There was something in his voice that put (Y/N) on edge as she scribbled down his order. Along with the others. "Coming right up." She said rushing off to the kitchen pinning up the order. 

"(Y/N) your phone is going non stop." Greg groaned as he plated a order making (Y/N) sigh as she walked over to the wall with the pegs on it, reaching into her coat pocket seeing five new messages. 

With out reading she started to reply.

iMessage to Shawn: I'm fine. Delete my number.

Putting her phone on silent she slid it into the white apron she was wearing before walking back out the front of the diner, seeing the four men sitting silently. Something about them just wasn't right. 

"Can you close up tonight (Y/N)? Jerome wants to take me out tonight." Deloris grinned making (Y/N) giggle slightly, loving the relationship between Jerome and Deloris. "Of course, I owe you for covering for me last week." She grinned. She hadn't really been off sick, Deloris had seen Shawn coming before (Y/N) did, knowing they were on the rocks Deloris had pushed (Y/N) into the storage room just as Shawn walked through the doors, leaving as soon as Deloris said she wasn't there.

- 

Shawn stared at the text, his teeth chewing on his cheek. It had been six hours since he got the message and he couldn't bring himself to delete her number. 

Shutting his phone he stood up walking towards the table where his team were studying the latest job they planned. 

"Alright so everyone clear on what's happening?" Connor asked as everyone nodded along. "Alright we have a month to get everything ready before we go after The Cobras so take tonight to relax, tomorrow we start training and planning." Shawn finished for Connor, giving everyone the signal to leave, leaving only himself, Brian and Connor standing the in basement of his house. "Still nothing?" Connor asked as they left the basement, heading for Shawn's kitchen, where he opened a beer. "A text-" Shawn started before opening his phone showing it to them. "Well..that's- That sucks man." Brian clapped Shawn on the back as his own phone rang. "Ohh booty call." He grinned walking out as he chatted to whoever was on the over side of the phone. 

"I'm sure she'll come around man, She liked you, she really did." Connor sighed sitting on the counter top, tossing an apple in the air and catching it. "She's scared of me." Shawn huffed glancing at the clock on the wall as it struck 8pm, knowing the Diner would be shutting down for the night. "She's not scared of you man, it just our.." "lifestyle?" Shawn hissed repeating her own term as Connor nodded his head. "She'll come around, I promise."

-

"Shit!" (Y/N) sighed as the back door of the Diner slammed shut, locking behind her, the keys to the diner sitting on the counter teasing her. "Damnit." She whispered thankful that she had shut everything down before getting locked out, thankful she had put her coat on before she decided to take out the trash. Throwing the bags in the garbage she started to walk out of the dark ally. A male figure started walking towards her making her steps falter. "Shawn?" She called out hopefully. Getting a unfamiliar laugh in response. "Shit." She whispered turning to go the other way, only to see three more figures blocking the other way. 

"So you're the little diner girl who's got Mendes distracted hm?" One taunted, she instantly recognised him as the man who ordered the strawberry milkshake earlier. 'You act clueless' She heard Deloris' voice in her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know a Mendes." She said, pulling her coat closer around herself.

She started to walk at a fast pace past the man standing on his own only to be stopped when he grabbed her elbow. "Don't lie to me sweetness." He hissed making her flinch, eyes flickering to the other three who still stood at the opposite side of the ally. Spotting a broken wooden crate by his feet in the garbage (Y/N) took a deep breath. "Don't call me that asshole!" She snapped, her other arm reaching for the crate, swinging it with enough force it splintered over his head, making him let go of her other arm. 

Acting quickly (Y/N) knocked over a pile of empty kegs from the bar next door to the diner, blocking the ally a bit before the took off running in the direction of her apartment, hearing the yells of the men behind her.

Her lungs burned and feet stung from the force of her feet hitting the concrete below them as she ran, not chancing to look behind her as she ran, coming to her apartment building quickly, still hearing them following. With her key already in hand she quickly opened the door, running up the four flights of stairs, her hand quivering as she struggled to her out her phone. 

Busting through the door of her apartment she slammed the door, pushing the bookshelf next to it across with struggle before standing in the middle of her apartment. Her brain thumping in her skull as she heard the echo of feet coming up the stairwell. Running to the window in her apartment she pushed it open seeing the fire escape outside it slick with rain water making her panic and step back into her apartment leaving the window open. 

Glancing at her bedroom a idea quickly came to mind as she heard them thumping at her apartment door. Running into her room she hit call on her phone playing this works. 

-

Shawn glared at the empty seat next to him as he sat on the Santa Monic Pier thinking back to the night they had spent here, his heart squeezing as a clap of thunder echoed through the city. 

The blaring of his ringtone made him glance at his phone, his blood turning to ice when her name met his eyes. Sliding the answer button Shawn raised his phone to his ear. 

"Baby?" He whispered only to be met by heavy breathing. "Shawn! Oh my god Shawn, they're trying to get into my apartment please help!" Her shaking voice made him stand quickly, making his way to his car. "Baby calm down. Tell me what’s happening." "I can't talk they're trying to get in! I'm under my bed hiding please sha-" It went quiet as he heard a crash then muffled sounds of men shouting. "Baby I'm comin-" He was cut off by the dial tone of her call ending. "No, no, no shit!" He cursed starting his car, calling the only person closer to her right now than he was.

- 

(Y/N) stared in shock at the blank phone screen in her hand, cursing herself for not charging it fully that morning. She held her breath as she clutched her dead phone in her hand, the darkness of the storage space under her bed making her feel like she was suffocating. "Fuck she's gone!" She heard one yell from the living room. "The windows open she must have gone down the fire escape." Another said as foot steps faded away making her let out a breath of relief, shifting slightly feeling something dig into her pocket she reached into her pocket pulling out a thick back rectangle making her eyes widen, forgetting she had bought it. 

The sound of foot steps returning made her clench the rectangle struggling to find the on button in the dark, her fingers pushed on something making a whirring sound come from the taser in her hand and a small red light started flashing, her thumb landing on another button which she guessed is the trigger button.

As foot steps got closer to the bedroom the whirring sound intensified, only seeming to get louder as the footsteps got to the end of her bed. The noise stopped and the red light turned to green as she heard tapping on the bed making her clench the taser tightly.

"Okay." She whispered. "You can do this." She took a deep breath as the bottom of the storage space was lifted slightly, light flooding in. As it was lifted higher (Y/N) closed her eyes, letting out a yell as she jammed the taser into the body at the end of her bed, hitting the trigger button. 

Hearing a yell in response (Y/N)'s eyes flew open seeing the taser stuck in the crook of familiar red heads neck as his body jerked and he fell to the ground. "Brian?!" She yelled pulling herself out of the gap under her bed, dropping to her knees next to Brian who was still convulsing on the floor.

- 

Shawn parked his car half on the curb as he quickly turned it off, running towards (Y/N)'s apartment building seeing the black front door busted in. "No, shit!" He shouted running up the four flights of stairs, seeing splinted wood as he busted into the hallway, his feet carrying him straight to (Y/N)'s door. A large sigh of relief left his lips as he seen (Y/N) standing beside her couch a hand over her mouth. It wasn't until he heard her soft giggles that he seen Brian laying on the couch with a wet cloth pressed to his neck. 

Walking straight up to (Y/N) Shawn pulled her into hug before looking down at Brian confused only to see Brian glaring at (Y/N). "What happened you?" Shawn asked as (Y/N) started laughing again. "She fucking tasered me!" Brian cried out moving the wet cloth revealing two red circles on his neck. 

Shawn turned to (Y/N) with wide eyes finding her now staring into space, clearly in shock. Taking her by the arm Shawn guided her into his room, setting down on her bed. "(Y/N)...Baby can you hear me?" Her empty eyes turned towards him making Shawn frown. "Okay, I'm going to pack you a bag, you're coming to stay with me for a while." Shawn stood up finding a black hand luggage suitcase in her closet, packing all the essentials. He stopped when he heard a small sobbing from behind him, turning quickly he found (Y/N) with her head in her hands sobbing into them. 

Sitting next to her he moved her so she was sitting sideways on his lap, her head buried in his neck. He felt his jaw clench as he hugged her close to his chest, his eyes clocking on Brian who now stood in the door way holding what looked like a playing card in his hand, as he turned it over the sight of a family Cobra made Shawn's blood boil knowing exactly who done this and he was going to put an end to him.