#College Physics Solutions

[engineeringmath]

College Physics by Openstax Chapter 6 Problem 30

If a car takes a banked curve at less than the ideal speed, friction is needed to keep it from sliding toward the inside of the curve (a real problem on icy mountain roads). (a) Calculate the ideal speed to take a 100 m radius curve banked at 15.0º.

The Ideal Speed and the Minimum Coefficient of Friction in Icy Mountain Roads Problem: If a car takes a banked curve at less than the ideal speed, friction is needed to keep it from sliding toward the inside of the curve (a real problem on icy mountain roads). (a) Calculate the ideal speed to take a 100 m radius curve banked at 15.0º. (b) What is the minimum coefficient of friction needed for…

[nightshadeowl]

Debating whether to display Scitties in my apartment.

[astarlightmonbebe]

the fact that almost every single close female person in my life has has dealt with (chronic) health conditions that impacted or are impacting their daily lives...

[pansyfemme]

i guess i have no proof that mobility aids would help me but its weird to me that my doctors are reccomending me thinking about heavy pain meds before using a cane or something

[loviingpedri]

playboys don’t play - marc guiu

prompt: college parties are his thing, but soon you’re the life of his party.

warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content (not smut, but just some making out and physical touch), probably some cheesy stuff

credits to owners for all images.

just to clear things up, you weren’t a total loser in college. you loved going out with your friends. the only difference is, you knew how to maintain your grades. this semester has taken over your life very negatively. your friends never saw you anymore, and you only said 5 words to your roommate every single day.

there was only one solution. going out to a party. don’t get me wrong, therapy is very considerable as well. yet, parties are free and a nice stress reliever. your friends practically forced you out of your dorm. you loved going out, but never to places where the entire college is attending.

this party was a celebration to the college’s first soccer game this season, ending in a successful win. it was hosted by the one and only, marc guiu.

it was only his first year attending college. boy, did he gain a quick reputation. every single girl wanted him. during conversations before your classes, his name would start echoing. loud sounds of laughter and shrieks from people as he walked past. rumors flew about how many girls he’s been with, but nobody knew if they were true. constant talk in your friend group of bets on who gets to be the lucky girl he’s going to be with tonight.

you couldn’t lie to yourself. he was very attractive. he gave you sweet smiles across the class, maybe a few winks. in return, you gave him a ‘what the fuck’ face. you were in denial that you wanted him too.

“y/n is looking hella good today.” one of your girlfriends whistling as you put on your red lipstick.

“about time you took a break from your glasses. those contacts look really nice.”

overwhelmed with the compliments, you replied with a simple thank you. nothing like a tight and short black dress with gold jewelry.

arriving to the party, you and your friends were greeted with flashing lights. your friend group consisted a mix of girls. some popular, some casual, some nerdy. all that matters was a healthy friendship.

welcomed with shots being poured down your throat. you were still shocked at how beautiful the soccer teams ‘frat’ house was.

mingling in with the people, you couldn’t help but make eye contact with marc. his soft brown eyes looking at you and slowly noticing every detail of you.

“who are you staring at?” hector came up to him, causing the eye contact to break. you turned around to socialize with people and make more friends.

“nobody.” marc cleared his throat. trying to gain his normal thoughts, hector could see through his lies.

“you were staring at y/n, weren’t you.”

“no. i wasn’t. what are you talking about.” he shook his head repeatedly. marc had feelings for you ever since he laid eyes on you. he hated when rumors came around about him with other girls because the only person he wanted to be with, was you.

“marc, it’s time for you to tell her. im sure you don’t want any other guy on her, right?” as hector said the last sentence, he pointed at you talking to another guy who was obviously flirting with you.

“maybe i will. don’t worry about it.” marc walked away to get a drink as hector shrugged him off. nothing like getting him riled up just so he can be more direct towards you.

more games came around. such as beer pong, and your favorite, spin the bottle.

people sat in a circle with an empty beer bottle in the middle. first few spins landed on some of your friends.

“maria, truth or dare?” your friend, livy asked her.

“truth.” some people shouted boring, but the game was just getting started.

“is it true you hooked up with tyler?” sounds of ooo’s and gasps were heard. rumors flew around here, and this was the perfect time to get them straight.

“it is true.” maria laughed it off. the secret was finally out. considering maria was your roommate, you knew all the details of that night.

“alright, next.” livy’s boyfriend spun the bottle. slowly passing up marc, it landed on hector.

“truth or dare, hector?” hector gave a soft smirk. this man was always up for a challenge.

“dare.” it’s a tradition that the first dare of the night had to be the most memorable and the highlight of the party.

“i dare you to make out with kaitlyn.” damn, this game was getting hot. nothing like a time to rekindle high school sweethearts. especially when hector missed his ex girlfriend from his junior year. kaitlyn didn’t mind, she wanted him back just as bad.

hector stood up slowly and went up to her. both of them start making out, leading to many people trying to separate them after awhile.

“alright, next person.” hector spun the bottle. it made two laps and spun past you twice. it slowed down and pointed directly at marc.

“marc, my best friend, truth or dare.” hector patted him on his back.

“dare.” marc’s soft smile made you smile.

“i want you to spend 7 minutes in heaven with the next person it lands on.” all the girls made eye contact with each other. some of them were determined to have the bottle land on them.

“deal.” marc spun the bottle as fast as he could. slowly and slowly, the bottle landed on you. hector gave him a nice smile and a few laughs. you slowly stood up as marc was looking at you in disbelief.

“get up marc. you know you want to.” you were scared. you doubted anything was gonna happen since this would be the first interaction between the two, but this was definitely not how you saw yourself for the next 7 minutes. everyone followed you and him upstairs to his room. hector opened his closet door. luckily it was clean. "have fun." hector closed the door and now you were alone with marc. with the only light coming from his room through the little cracks of his door.

the next 2 minutes were just in silence as both of you sat on the ground. it was awkward, and you wanted to try and talk to him. yet, he looked terrified.

soon, he spoke, "i'm sorry y/n. i didn't wanna make my reaction look like that."

"you're fine. i thought you hated me for a second." trying to ease the tension, marc knew it was time to listen to hector's advice.

“no, i don’t hate you. it’s actually the opposite. i know this sounds weird, but i actually have a crush on you.” this was the first time someone ever confessed to you directly. maybe the first time someone even confessed. you were in pure shock trying to process what he just said.

“i thought you had a girlfriend.” marc sighed, knowing you were gonna bring up the rumors.

“i swear i’ve never dated anyone. you’re the only one i have feelings for. i know you’ve heard and think i got with almost every girl here, but i can promise you i didn’t. y/n, i’m being so serious to you. i’m not the playboy you think i am.”

you moved your body closer to him as he looked at you. he waited patiently for a response. “that’s actually pretty sweet of you to say. i’m not gonna lie to you either, but i think you’re attractive too. it’s just, i think we need to take some time to get to know each other.”

“that’s understandable. i’m just glad you got where i was coming from.” you made eye contact with him again. this time, you were closer to his face and you could see his eyes glisten at you. you looked at his lips, then his eyes.

one second led to another, you were now fully making out with him. you were straddled over his lap as your tongues continued to dance. his left hand placed on your ass, and his right traveling around your body. you kissed his jawline, then to his neck. he wanted his full attention on your lips though. he was holding your cheek as the night became needy.

unexpectedly, the door opened. you got off of marc and stood up to fix your dress.

“i see someone had fun.” hector winked at marc as he helped him stood up. walking outside, everyone was shocked. you looked at marc in confusion, only to notice your red lipstick was all over his lips, neck, and jaw. marc looked at you, and did not expect to see your lipstick smudged.

everyone left the room as marc wiped off some of your lipstick, and gave you one last kiss.

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part one

⭑ part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.4k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, feelings of angst, sexual themes on like the verge of smut, some swearing

a/n: hey lovelies!!!! this my first time posting a fic so plz enjoy. feedback is appreciated as long as it is constructive. im new to all of this, and still learning. i plan on making this into a series so expect more coming soon. sorry if this chapter is very reader-centric. once reader gets to know ellie better, i’ll write more about her perspective. this will be a slow burn despite part 1 already having sexual themes (lol sorry, couldn't help it), but do expect eventual real smut <3 <3 (p.s: lets b mutuals, message me!!)

As you packed the last of your belongings into your parents' 2008 Toyota, excitement was the last thing you were feeling. When speaking about college, most people explained this coming of age experience with phrases like “change”, “hard work”, and “no sleep”. These pessimistic descriptions made the big move that much harder. Unlike your friends from high school, you were crossing multiple states to attend your dream school. You would’ve been stuck in your home state too if it wasn’t for your impressive art portfolio which earned you a full-ride. Art school is where you know you’re meant to be, but the anxiety of doing it alone lingered.

Of course you were happy to be escaping the grapples of your small Republican town, but you couldn’t help but wonder if 1,500+ miles would really be the solution to all your problems.

                                          ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“God where is she??” you grunt to yourself. The brown swivel chair provided as dorm furniture was your only source of entertainment. You spun around in circles, checking your phone every few minutes. You were anticipating a text from Ellie Williams. Through the cracked screen your phone read 11:03pm and the notification wall was empty.

Ellie is supposed to be your roommate. The two of you had met through the university's online roommate matching system. Your interactions were limited to the few texts sent back and forth about move-in times and who’s bringing what. Ellie was supposed to show up 5 hours ago to move in her stuff but she never arrived. You consider messaging her to check-in but Ellie’s previous texts wreaked of un-interest so you thought it best to leave her alone. You knew nothing about the girl, or even what she looked like, but with her stand-offish demeanor and your overthinking, a friendship didn’t seem in the cards.

Another half-hour passes before the sound of keys rattling pulls you out of your trance. Realizing you’re about to be face-to-face with your new college roommate, you snap up from your slouched position and push your hair behind your ears in preparation.

The slender door lazily swings open and your gaze quickly shifts to the faux wood floors. There was a sense of hesitancy, like you weren’t ready to see your fate just yet. A pair of dirty, black converse covered in writing sulk into your line of sight, triggering you to look up. As you did, your eyes were met with the most jaw-droppingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Peeking through her messy auburn locks were piercing jade green eyes and an angular nose scattered with freckles.

It was Ellie Williams, and she was the epitome of “cool girl". Your head spun with all kinds of thoughts as your physical body went idle. You sat before Ellie gawking until she broke the awkward silence that had gone unnoticed by you. 

“Uh, hi… I’m sorry for coming in so late… some stuff came up. But uh, I’m Ellie Williams.” She held her right hand out towards you to shake it. It took you a second, but you snapped out of her spell and quickly shook her hand in return.

“Shit- Ellie, hey, it’s uh, nice to finally meet you.” You stumbled through your words as nerves overpowered your usual confidence.  There was an obvious awkward tension between the two of you. A typical feeling when moving in with a complete stranger.

Silence loomed in the air as Ellie took a stationary tour around the small, 12 x 20 ft. dorm. She surveyed your side of the room, taking note of any items that could hint towards who you are as a person. Her eyes stopped on a band poster you had hung up just hours ago. 

“You listen to Sleater-Kinney?” she inquired. 

“Hell yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. Honestly anything in the riot grrrl music scene is right up my alley. Do you listen?” you replied with more enthusiasm and less nerves than before. 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Ellie answered nonchalantly. You took note of her answer realizing what it could mean. Sleater-Kinney was like the gayest band ever, and Ellie definitely knew that. Maybe she just likes them for their music, but it's possible she also found the lyrics laced with sapphic pining to be relatable. Selfishly, you were dying to know her sexual orientation. Ellie seemed like too much of a stranger to ask her outright and so the game of reading between the lines began. Little did you know, Ellie was wondering the exact same thing about you. 

It was getting late and Ellie decided to save unpacking for the morning when she wasn’t so tired. You climbed onto your stiff dorm mattress and fluffed your pillows for sleep. Ellie did the same in her bed. 

“Is it cool if I turn out the lights now?” you asked, still navigating the new social dynamic as roommates. Ellie replied with a gentle hum and you hit the switch turning the room pitch black. As you lay in bed all you can think of is Ellie and the future. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew she was special, and you yearned to understand her. With these thoughts in mind, your eyes slowly begin to droop and you slip into a deep slumber. 

The next thing you know Ellie is sitting at the foot of your bed staring straight into your soul. Her beautiful green eyes felt especially intense as the rest of her face was shadowed from the dark room. 

“Ellie- I-” you could barely get out 2 words as you sat up from bed flustered. You felt like prey and she was the hunter… and you liked it. Ellie slowly inched her way toward you, crawling on hands and knees. She didn’t have to say anything, you knew what she wanted.

Your plush thighs sat between her knees and her crotch hovered over yours, heat being exchanged. You wanted her so bad. You needed her. Ellie took your chin in her hand and pulled you in close. You exchanged breaths as her lips brushed up against yours. She couldn’t wait any longer and pressed her face into yours, capturing your lips which she so longingly desired for. You fell back onto your pillows and she followed intently.

Her body lay pressed against yours and she desperately shoved her wet tongue into your supple mouth. It was ravenous and you wanted more. You knew she did too as you began to feel the rotation of her hips digging into your pelvis. The heavy breaths coming from her swollen lips were in sync with the fervent grinding. You bucked your hips towards her in a frenzy. Ellie took her veiny hand and ran it along your waistband. As she began to slip it into your pants... you woke up to discover your own hands cupping the heat below and Ellie nowhere to be found. 

“What the fuck.” is all you could say. You pulled your hand from your pants and stared at the slick spider-webbing between your fingers. God this was humiliating. You climbed out of bed to wash your hands and glanced at the clock. It was 7:15am and Ellie was already gone. That seemed kinda odd for a 19 year old college student. You wondered where she had disappeared to so early in the morning.

Soon, the over-thinker took over and you began to grapple with the possibility that you said something out loud during your naughty wet dream. What if Ellie heard you? God what if you moaned her name?? What would you even say if she brought it up? Before you could formulate a hypothetical response, Ellie walked right through the door.

“AHh-” you yelped, startled by her presence. Ellie backed into the doorway holding a coffee in each hand. 

“God, sorry, you scared me.” you explained. Ellie shuffled back inside, twiddling her thumbs trying to decide what to say.

“Sorry, I just left to grab some coffee early this morning. I couldn’t sleep.” She continued, “I brought you one too. As an apology, for any trouble I might have caused by showing up at almost midnight to move in…”. Your cheeks flushed with color and you hoped she didn’t notice.

“Oh, thanks Ellie, that's nice. I promise there was no harm done.” you answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Seemingly enough, this news meant she was awake while you were, ya know... dreaming. Ellie definitely wouldn’t bring a pervert coffee though. Right? Either way, you knew one thing for sure, you've got to have her.

  ← masterlist ⭑ part 2 →

[limi-strology]

My astro observations:

I'm by no means an expert, this is based on my experience!

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☄. *. ⋆*·˚ Leo suns are pretty warm people. I mean it as in they make you feel welcome in a new place and try to help you socialize with their friends. Even though they are really popular and usually in the center, they'll talk to you, pay attention to how you're feeling and encourage you to talk more in the group! It may put you on the spot, but that's how they show they care. I find it really sweet, they just want to help you get out there and approach people. They're great friends, especially if you were around toxic people previously, these fellas will kinda heal you in a way ❤️‍🩹

☄. *. ⋆ Leo risings also have a confident vibe surrounding them. Even those who are more on the introverted side give off the impression that they are quite dynamic? Idk how to explain this, they just kind of stand out. I think it's more obvious when they're with their closest friends, they're usually the ones cracking jokes, being loud, taking up a more leader-like(?) role. Part time entertainers, part time hype people. You go guys, let's keep up the fun vibes in our friend groups ☀️

☄. *. ⋆ Libras are so charming for no reason?? Like, both personality and appearance wise, I'm amazed. I love how they always listen to both sides of the story and try to find solutions that are fair to everyone. They're generally sweet and angelic, they tend to forgive a lot (don't you think they'll forget it tho, they'll probably be more cautious around you afterwards) up until you hurt them deeply. After that, they get sarcastic and cold, you do not want to get on their bad side. Regarding their physical appearance, I've noticed a lot of them have full lips and freckles (or multiple beauty marks on their face). I'm getting a cute energy just by looking at them, I don't know why, I just found every Libra I've met so far adorable in a way. Sure, they're mostly described as handsome and beautiful (and they are, not gonna lie) but I'm just seeing an innocent? youthful and carefree image of them. Also they're kinda curvy? Even the more lean ones are a little thick in the booty or thighs. 🤭

☄. *. ⋆ I've noticed Scorpios suddenly becoming really soft and smiley around kids and pets. They'll start cooing and waving at the kids, might even talk or play with them (if they know them well). Similarly, they'll get excited at the sight of a puppy or a kitten and will probably pet them and give them snacks. And what amazes new even more is that kids and pets seem to like them back! I don't know what it is about Scorpios and their energy, but I've seen so many babies/toddlers staring and smiling at my Scorpio peers in fascination, and whenever we encounter stray animals they seem to gravitate towards them. It's really cute to see that, warms my heart a lot. Like, intimidating who? I'm only seeing cute happy people ☺️

☄. *. ⋆ Capricorn moons have a hard time opening up about things that bother them. Even if they feel the most comfortable with you, they'll most likely hide some things. They'll talk about it eventually, but they'll probably reveal small parts of it each time, kinda like building a puzzle but taking many breaks in between. Maybe they feel like they can be judged and/or mocked and want to see how others react first? I hope you guys are surrounded by sweet and accepting people that you can trust and share things that trouble you with them 🤍

☄. *. ⋆ I used to think Aries placements make you more hot-headed/aggressive, but the more people I've met, I've realised they're more on the ambitious side. Strong willed, they know exactly what they want. Sometimes their parents may pressure them into studying something they think is best for them during college, and the Aries person will probably do that, but then they'll do the thing that truly interests them. I noticed Aries suns are quite fit and enjoy any kind of exercise/sports, it just makes them feel good, while Aries risings are mostly attracted to athletic people, or are fascinated by people who go to the gym. They also have a fiery, self empowering aura going on and I love that for them 🔥

☄. *. ⋆ Scorpio venuses, wowww... Okay, first of all, your loyalty is so admirable. And the fact that you always try to find solutions and maintain peace in your relationships, especially the men with this placement, I'm impressed every time 👏 I'm getting Morticia Adams vibes, and by that I mean that I'm seeing elegance with dark themes. Also, in formal/party settings, guys look great in all black outfits and girls rock red lipstick. I know it sounds a bit generic, but it makes you stand out from the rest, even if everyone is dressed practically the same. It's like you're just in your element 🤌

☄. *. ⋆ My fellow sun square moon people, how are we feeling? Do you also have that mind vs heart battle on a weekly basis? Like being two different people at once, with one being more assertive and independent (Sun) and the other more sensitive and insecure (Moon). Your upbringing could be genuinely good, with no one really hurting you deeply, yet you still struggle with your emotions and might have low self confidence. Probably people pleasers, even if your mind is telling you to do your own thing instead, you will probably have a hard time saying no. And don't get me started on this whole conflict of what you want exactly. You finally start living on your own like you've always wanted and make time for yourself? Yeah, but why is no one here to pat you on the back and give you reassurance yet? Where's the support? Hate independence. You eventually surround yourself on the daily with people who actually care about you and show you the affection you deserve? Well, now it feels too stuffy in here, let's self isolate from all the people we love until we feel horrible again because of loneliness. Don't know how else to describe it than just 🙃.

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Thanks for reading! It's my first time making an observation post so I'm sorry if it's not that accurate, I'm basing this on people who are close to me and whose chart I've checked a few times.

Hope you have a nice day~

[engineeringmath]

College Physics by Openstax Chapter 6 Problem 29

A large centrifuge, like the one shown in Figure 6.34(a), is used to expose aspiring astronauts to accelerations similar to those experienced in rocket launches and atmospheric reentries.

The centripetal acceleration of a large centrifuge as experienced in rocket launches and atmospheric reentries of astronauts Problem: A large centrifuge, like the one shown in Figure 6.34(a), is used to expose aspiring astronauts to accelerations similar to those experienced in rocket launches and atmospheric reentries. (a) At what angular velocity is the centripetal acceleration  if the rider…

[sprainedwriting]

I have been wondering, in the Adam College AU, what if the Reader really got pregnant? How would he react?

Keep up the good work!

thank you so much!!!! ok actually i have been thinking about that too so like thoughts under the read more

tw: talks of abortion and pregnancy

in adam’s mind, if the reader really did fall pregnant, there would be only 2 solutions: abortion or having the child.

he wouldn’t like the idea of giving the child up, since i do image adam wanting to have children one day!

i do think that adam would be lowkey unhappy with both options 😭 you can’t make him happy either and it’s your body your choice! so ignore him

since he also knows he’s unhappy no matter what he will literally let it all 100% be your decision. which can be annoying since adam always gives his opinion no matter what and now he doesn’t say anything??? he tries to be supportive in that way but it would be piss me off personally susbdk

(„well what do you think i should do????“

„do whatever the hell you want“)

you choose to not have the child? that’s cool, adam will literally take care of everything for you if you want. he will try to be extra nice to you during that time. he over compensates a lot with his emotional unavailability by buying you lots of stuff. i do feel like he would not initiate anything sexual after that, you have to make the first step. which could also cause issues by you thinking he’s mad at you for getting pregnant because it does take 2 😭 and adam does express affection through physical touch/sex

you want to keep the child? ok cool. you guys have like 9 months to prepare so that’s goodish! adam would be very insistent on marriage where it’s like 🤨 they invented the word slut literally for this man. he also would move you in with him so fast. marriage he would also get you into by talking about putting you on his super fancy healthcare where like. yeah. giving birth is expensive….so now you’re married and pregnant and you’re still in college. i do image in my story that they’re all like seniors/in their last year of college. so you could still be able to get your degree, which is a relief lowkey. adam would stay home more and more with you the further along you are. he reads stuff up about labour and parenting in secret.

i do feel like, no matter the choice, that’s something that could make or break a relationship. it’s all about communication and adam is literally the anti communicator. so there’s that. no matter what you personally choose tho, he tries his best to be supportive, even though it doesn’t always feel like it

[emyluwinter]

What will happen to a teenager who finds himself in a completely strange world, without support, without knowledge, without elders or guardians, without friends or help? What happens if this kind heart gives resonance to the hungry other hearts around? Without the editorial office, I feel very exhausted, and the pain began to bother me again. Therefore, I allow myself to write imperfectly.

These are the little headcannons that came to my mind by accident.

For the first few weeks after Riddle's Overblot, Cater and Trey secretly took two more students outside their dorm under their invisible wings. After all, with their appearance there have been very big changes, certainly not in the most pleasant way. But it has moved for the better.

Ace and Deuce talked about their living conditions, and they themselves witnessed being in hidden horror at the very sight of this piece of territory in college. To put it mildly, Trey and Сater decided that let these two be often in front of their eyes, to look after their younger students. than breathing dust and mold, blown by all the draughts and winds in your dorm.

Ace mentioned several times that Grimm has an endless battery of energy, but their Prefect looks like an exhausted zombie in the morning. They just couldn't rest physically or mentally. The time for rest was ruthlessly devoured by studies, repairs, attempts at adaptation and rehabilitation. Add to this endless ridiculous and insane rumors, disrespectful or disdainful behavior on the part of other students. The list could be continued until the end of the shining of the stars in the sky. Or Yuu was tormented by insomnia, which was quite a logical consequence and reaction of their psyche and body to so much stress and frayed nerves Or they couldn't afford the luxury of a "good sleep"

Trey has noticed many times how Yuu takes a quiet, inconspicuous place in the garden or in the maze of corridors of their dorm just to sleep. A quiet, clean place, even without a bed, even sitting on the floor. One Seven knows how they sleep in such an uncomfortable place, but compared to their accommodation it was a five-star hotel.

Cater went the other way, gently woke up the "mouse dormouse" if it found them in the most unsuitable place to sleep, and carefully laid them somewhere on a sofa or in an armchair away from other people's eyes and faces. Covering them with a warm blanket so that they can finally get warm, give them a pillow and see with emotion how they hug her. It's like they're someone's protective shell and the pillow is their secret treasure. In truth, he was visited by the thought that this was dozing with this "exhausted" younger of his….Was it comforting?Was it soothing? It was as if he wanted to heal his wounds in his heart when he was not given a place for himself and his thoughts. As if he wanted to hide that little boy inside himself. A quiet sniffling at their side, the slow movement of their chest when breathing. A slight tugging of their eyelashes or fingertips. What are they dreaming about? Of course, it's not good to stare, but Cater caught itself thinking that for the first time in a long time, it also wants to just take a nap in silence. Without acting, roles, smiles, masks. A serene, quiet slumber.

Yes, that's what he suddenly wanted to do for himself for the first time in a long time. And not someone else chose for him. A little sleep was a really good solution. For some reason, Diamond felt much better. Maybe it was the fact that there was some trust in the lost child. Or maybe he really just wanted to sleep in the company. During these moments, he did not touch his phone, neither before nor after.

Riddle once caught the two of them having such a sleep session. And didn't dare to wake them up. After all that had happened, an unpleasant voice in his head kept saying that this was the least his dorm could offer to atone for all the guilt towards Yuu and Grimm.

[despazito]

leftism without economic theory is painful to watch like it is nuts that women are now fantasizing of becoming stay at home housewives again as a solution to the current state of “work”. or people imagining utopias where work doesn’t exist at all, im sorry that’s just completely unrealistic regardless of how much we can automate

i think that a deep drive to pursue goals is an intrinsic part of the human condition. we like to work, we feel good when we solve something complicated or finish a task, our brain gives us good chemicals in return. even those of us with disabilities who can struggle to work still want to do something. the issue is how labour gets treated and which labour is rewarded by society.

our current system values antisocial leadership practices that will do anything to improve capital, and creates bullshit jobs nobody likes for the sole purpose of extracting the most capital possible. it’s no surprise people feel alienated from such employment especially if your job is scamming people with a few extra steps. i think the disappearance of family trades run by dedicated craftsmen who owned their own means of production has also hurt. instead it’s been emotionally sterilized through college courses and employment by faceless corporations who kindly let you use their equipment in return for a fraction of your labour’s actual value.

jobs like teaching and nursing are the backbone of society but instead their labour is deemed worthless, so even folks performing these important meaningful roles want to quit because financially the world is telling them to go fuck themselves.

it doesn’t help that the new consumerist class has been groomed to feel entitled to everything and anything, combined with the aggravated political polarization its just a molotov cocktail for any potential social interaction with a stranger to become a nightmare. i don’t blame people who want to lay flat and check out of this environment, but in the long term removing yourself entirely from the labour force and removing yourself physically from everybody you may not like or want to be around won’t fix any of these community problems!!

imagine a society instead where jobs were created out of social need and valued by how they can improve life both physically and spiritually. personally the stuff i wanna do most falls squarely under ‘volunteer’ work in this current system. i’d love to donate my time to wildlife rehab and animal shelters, hell i’d gladly pick up trash from parks all day and clean up the environment if i got a living wage. because i know i’m doing something of value instead of making my boss richer.

there’s a reason women fought so hard for equal opportunities in the work force. we wanted to find societal roles and value beyond those ascribed to us from birth. i’m not gonna let tiktokers girlboss our way back into tradlife!! (not to mention the setup of supporting an entire family on a single income was very much a heterosexual white middle class concept, many poor and nonwhite women couldn’t be stay at home moms even if they wanted to!)

[kiyosamu]

Then & Now. ♡

——— ♡ ———

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Genre: Fluff! Angst if you squint? Maybe? High school sweethearts who reunite as adults. ♡

——— ♡ ———

Growing up, the idea of a first love was embedded into your mind with theatric-like imagery. A dramatic, beautiful first kiss. Loud, screaming arguments over unwarranted jealousy. Passionate, intense declarations of love for the entire world to hear. A love that felt so real it physically hurt. A love that, when it came to it’s inevitable demise, would stick to you for the rest of your life, leaving you wondering “what if…?”.

That’s what you thought, anyway, until you’d experienced it first-hand.

Your relationship with Osamu was nothing like that. In fact, it was almost too easy. A fast forming friendship in your first year blossoming into a romantic relationship as high school seniors. You two just… clicked.

When the two of you made things official, it wasn’t the grand proposal you’d hoped for. Instead, it was Osamu waking up next to you with a sleepy smile and incoming hangover asking you the classic “what are we?”. You simply smiled back, knowing damn well the night before that the liquid courage had run through both of you to the point of confessing your true feelings and realizing they were mutual.

Osamu was comfortable. He was carefree, but not recklessly. He paid attention in school and had priorities, but didn’t let small things bother him. “Don’t worry about it” he’d say, pulling you against him with an arm around your waist. “I’ll take care of it.” “It’s no big deal.” “It’s fine.” “Just leave it to me.”

Dependable, reliable Osamu who always seemed to fix any major or minor inconvenience in your life with a simple solution and saving you from yourself for the zillionth time.

Despite the positives of your relationship, even you couldn’t dodge the cliché “we’re going to different colleges, so let’s break up” trope. You talked it over, mutually deciding it’d be too stressful to continue your relationship when you were going to school 6 hours away. You spent your last few days together as if everything was normal, and then you just… left.

“Too bad.” His gaze dropped to the floor, a bittersweet smile crossing his lips. “We coulda had a real nice life together.”

You nodded and laced your fingers in his.

“It was nice while it lasted, though.” Osamu sighed, looking down at you. Your eyes met his, only for a moment, before you fully embraced him and soaked in every ounce of him. Muffled, barely audible words came from your lips as you pushed your face into his chest.

“It was nice while it lasted.”

But it didn’t hurt like you’d expected it to. You didn’t want it to. Your relationship with Osamu was wonderful. He was perfect for you, and the two of you shared so many incredible memories. You smiled when you thought back to one of your silly inside jokes. Felt warm when you saw anything that reminded you of him.

While you started casually dating other people in your second year of college, Osamu didn’t do the same. He was busy opening a restaurant and supporting his brother, information that you’d collected from his few and far between Facebook updates. Other than that, you hadn’t really spoken since the day you’d left.

The years flew by, and just like you’d promised your family, you moved back home the day after your college graduation.

Various relatives cooed over you, commenting on how different you looked, how proud they were of you, hurling questions at you the moment you stepped inside that you instantly regretted returning after such an eventful week.

“Where are you going? You just got home!” You mom called as she watched you lace up your shoes from the other room.

“Out. I’ll be back soon.”

That stressful evening is how you’d ended up at a dodgy, dimly lit bar two streets down that had always piqued your interest as a teenager. You and Osamu had promised to go there together when you were younger, both of you making up silly theories about what lied beyond the doors.

You chuckled into your drink as you remembered the conversations and compared them to reality.

“I wonder if it’s some kinky strip club.” Osamu smirked, “Ya know, like with ropes and handcuffs and stuff?”

“Do those exist? Strip clubs just for stuff like that?” You squeezed his hand and jumped up on to the sidewalk.

“I dunno. Anything’s possible. Better than your theory.” He teased. “An illegal animal sanctuary? Where’d ya even come up with that one?”

“Hear me out! I bet there’s some old man who has like, 17 tigers, an alligator, and a polar bear. Nowhere to keep them.” You stopped at the crosswalk, grabbing his cheeks so he looked straight at you. His eyes were wide with amusement and a massive grin was plastered across his face. “Picture it, ‘Samu. Really think. Can you see it? He probably lives there and just takes care of his exotic animals in secret.”

“Right.” He snorted, “And how do you explain the customers?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever actually seen anyone enter or leave that building?”

“Well, I-“ He stopped, pausing to think for a moment. “Ya know what? No. I haven’t.”

You tugged him into the crosswalk when the light changed and marched away proudly. “Exactly. Point proven. It’s a front.”

The two of you spent the rest of your walk home from school that day laughing and debating what kinds of animals the theoretical old man was hiding in the fake bar.

Osamu’s laugh was something you’d heard many times, but never gotten tired of. His laugh was infectious; deep and loud and right from his chest. A laugh that would cause anyone to smile just from being around it.

A laugh that you recognized the moment you heard it.

You spun around on the bar stool, drink still in hand, in complete disbelief as the man who you were just thinking about was practically summoned in front of you. What a coincidence - you made a mental note to call your old roommate and tell her that her manifestation theories might not be bogus after all.

“Ain’t that somethin’,” Osamu whistled, taking off his hat to reveal his natural hair colour and giving you a playful nudge. “Didn’t know I’d run into ya here.”

“You didn’t?” You smiled.

“Had no clue.”

You pulled out your phone, showing him your most recent social media post. It was a photo of your drink, the location tagged with a passive caption about returning home.

“You didn’t see this?” You snorted when he shook his head no.

“Osamu Miya liked your post. Explain that.” You pointed directly at your most recent notification, showing that Osamu had definitely seen it 20 minutes prior.

“Hackers. Gotta be.” You felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you indulged in his sarcastic banter. “‘Cuz it’s clearly a coincidence that I just happened to show up to the same shitty bar on a certain Tuesday night.”

“You’re such a fuck.” You laughed, “Be serious.”

“Obviously I knew.” He rolled his eyes playfully and waved down a waitress. “Just wasn’t sure if you were gonna talk to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I talk to you?” You took a sip of your drink and watched him as he ordered his own. The way he carried himself was different. Subtle, but different. Confident and unapologetically himself.

He shrugged. “Just didn’t think you wanted to. I never heard from ya after you left.”

You blinked at him. “I kinda thought that’s what you wanted. That’s why I never reached out.”

“Why would I want that?” He thanked the waitress and took a sip of his drink the moment she handed it to him.

“I dunno. I just assumed since you didn’t say anything to me after I left.”

“So you’re tellin’ me we didn’t talk because we both thought the other didn’t want to?” Osamu’s question wasn’t really even directed to you, if anything, he was talking out loud to himself.

You were the first to crack up. “I guess so.”

“Hah.” He chuckled, “How stupid is that?”

“…Pretty stupid.”

He shook his head, smiling and silently cursing himself for allowing a little breakup and a few hours distance ruin the best relationship with someone he’d ever had, dating or not.

“Well, whatever. We’re here now. Wanna hang out?”

You almost choked on your drink. You weren’t expecting to see Osamu at all, let alone expecting to be hanging out with him on your first day back after four years of radio silence.

But you didn’t even think twice.

“Of course I do.”

The two of you picked up where you left off and it was as if you’d never even gone away. The connection was instant.

“You dyed your hair brown.” You smiled, reaching up and ruffling it in between your fingers. “It looks good.”

“I’d be worried if it didn’t.” He smiled wide but got lost in your gaze for a few seconds, studying your expression carefully. He took a careful look at you while sipping his drink. “You look good. Every bit of ya.”

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” You felt your cheeks get warm and turned away. A feeling you hadn’t experienced since high school.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Before you could answer, Osamu set some cash on the bar and grabbed your hand. Again, it was familiar, but felt different. Stronger. Bigger. His hand completely engulfed yours and you wondered if he knew how tight he was holding you.

The two of you walked down the road for a few minutes, silently, soaking in the past two hours spent catching up with each other.

He stopped in front of a building a few blocks down, nodding up at it so you’d take a look. You knew instantly where you were.

“I still can’t believe you actually did it.” You looked back and forth from his proud stance to the large sign above the door reading “Onigiri Miya”.

“Let me show ya inside.”

He took you around the back, unlocking the door and flicking on the lights as he came in. The light was warm and the restaurant was inviting. Warm, inviting, comfortable… everything Osamu had always been.

“It’s so cozy in here.” You ran your hand across the clean countertop. As you paced through the kitchen, you walked around the barrier separating the staff area from the main dining room. “Reminds me of your Mom’s house in here.”

“In a good way, right?” He followed closely behind, not wanting to interrupt your first impression too much.

“Of course.” You turned around, beaming a smile at him. “I always loved coming over. You know that.”

He nodded. “Guess I’ll have to have ya over again sometime. I’m sure Ma would love to see you.”

“I’d love to see her, too.” You picked up and put down all of the little trinkets and decorations Osamu had laid out in his restaurant. A small MSBY mascot bobble head, various culinary contest awards, cute little stickers with the restaurant logo, and a stuffed alligator eating a mini onigiri.

“Hm.” You hummed, picking up the alligator. “Now all you’re missing is 17 tigers and a polar bear.”

Osamu blinked at you.

“Sorry.” You laughed awkwardly, “You must not remember. It’s nothing-“

“That’s the exact reason I have that.” He smiled, walking over and taking the alligator from you. “I had it handmade. Even named it after ya.”

“Shut up.”

“M’serious.” Osamu’s confident demeanour almost disappeared as he appeared bashful for just a moment. A small moment, but you still saw it.

Osamu ended up pouring you a drink while you continued to talk. He leaned over the counter as you sat at the bar opposite of him, your faces only a few inches apart.

“I still can’t believe you remembered that.” You said quietly before taking a sip.

“Of course I remembered it. I couldn’t forget the silly shit you say even if I wanted to.” He teased, “Plus, I had to walk by that place every day after you left. Made me think of ya every time.”

“Silly shit, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, “You’re the one who thought it was a strip club.”

Osamu blinked at you. “That’s much more believable than being an old man’s exotic animal sanctuary.”

“Okay, okay, fine!” You didn’t realize how stupid the conversation was until he said it like that. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter just like you used to.

You looked at Osamu, the top of his cheeks squishing just under his eyes, loud, deep laughs filling the room and suddenly you’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling of… home.

Osamu looked back at you. His ash-coloured eyes studied your expression.

“Hey, do ya need a job?”

You hadn’t been home long, so you’d barely even thought of that. You had planned to take things a day at a time and try to find a career with your education, but your degree was hard to find employment with right away. Opportunities and internships were there, but there was no way you’d be getting an actual, paying job right away.

“…Yes?”

“Wanna work here?” He leaned in closer, “I don’t go around offerin’ just anyone a job at my high class establishment, ya know.”

“Something with the way you said that makes me feel like this is a joke.” You smirked.

“I’m just foolin’ around. I do need someone though. Wanna try it, at least? Tomorrow for dinner? I’ll show ya what it’s all about.”

You agreed. If anything, you wanted to see how Osamu ran his restaurant.

——— ♡ ———

The next evening, you entered through the back door just like he’d told you to.

“Osamu?” You called, immediately met with a response to come in the kitchen.

“Sorry, darlin’, couldn’t meet ya at the door. Doing prep for tonight.” He gestured down to the cutting board in front of him, “Wanna try?”

You quickly put down your things and washed your hands. When you took the knife from Osamu’s hand, he hesitated for a moment before giving it to you.

“It’s sharp.”

“I know.”

“You gotta be careful. It’s a real chef’s knife.”

“I know.”

“Go for it, then.”

You held your breath before getting to work, chopping up the onions quickly and stopping when you felt a hand on top of yours. Osamu was directly behind you, towering over you and pressing his chest into your back.

“‘Samu-“

“You’re gonna slice your hand off if ya keep cutting like that.” He muttered. You could feel the vibration of his low voice and were suddenly hyper-aware of the current situation.

“What’s wrong with my technique?” You huffed.

“You don’t have any technique.” Osamu snorted, “Don’t ya remember when I taught ya like… a million years ago?”

“I do remember you teaching me.” You leaned back into him, “I also remember you never letting me prepare or cook any food ever again after that day. So I could never practice my new skill.”

Osamu hummed in amusement. “Not even in college?”

You spun around, Osamu set the knife down safely on the table but caged you in with his arms. He looked down at you with a smirk. “Hm?”

“I’ll have you know, I didn’t cook a single time in college.” You declared. “You’d know that if you’d talked to me.”

Osamu sighed, hanging his head down on your shoulder. “We’ve already gone over this.”

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.”

He lifted his head back up, only a few inches from your face. You felt like the breath was taken directly out of your lungs when all you could think about was kissing him. You wanted to reach out and touch his muscular arms just for him to get greedy and grab you wherever he wanted.

“Miya-san?”

You froze, both of you wide eyed in surprise at the sound of a much younger voice. A young man, most likely freshly graduated from high school, stood beside the two of you as you remained in the compromising position.

Osamu pulled back, and both of you stood up straight.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“

“It’s okay, ya didn’t interrupt.”

He did, you thought, but you were silently thankful for that. Every ounce of self control that remained was about to fly out the window had you stayed like that for even a few seconds more.

His small group of employees started to file in and prepare the restaurant further for dinner. You retreated to Osamu’s office and laid down on the couch.

Osamu would have a couch in his office.

You listened as Osamu instructed his team. Taught the younger staff how to tune their skills, taking the time to show them with nothing but patience and positivity. The same comforting presence he always had.

You missed that.

You missed him.

“Hey.” Osamu walked into his office and shut the door behind him. “Finished prep, sorry it got a bit crazy. Didn’t realize we were so close to workin’ hours, thought we would’ve had more time before everyone else got in.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head, “No need to apologize. It’s really cool seeing you in your element.”

“Ya think?” He couldn’t hide his grin. He stood in front of you, leaning back slightly with his hands on his desk behind him. “I like workin’ here.”

“Well, that’s good. I’d hope so.”

Osamu agreed with a chuckle and sat down next to you.

“Can I tell ya somethin’?”

He sat with his arm around back of the couch, which was technically around you, now. You looked up at him and nodded silently.

“I, uh-“ He shook his head, it was clear he was trying to say something but it was difficult. “I really missed ya.”

“I missed you too-“

“No, like…” He sighed, “I really… really missed ya. I tried goin’ on dates with other women. Didn’t get along with any of ‘em. I always compared ‘em to you. I waited for you to finish school, to see if you’d come back home, and you did. It felt like a sign or somethin’. So when I saw you at the bar last night,” He paused, “Totally, completely coincidentally, I may add.”

His serious tone turned lighter as you smiled at his words.

“I just had to talk to ya. And now that I did, it feels like when we were kids, ya know? Just the way that I always wanted you around. Wanted to spend time with ya, hell, you have no idea how badly I just wanted to kiss ya when we were in the kitchen earlier-“

“‘Samu.”

“I don’t even know why I let our breakup happen in the first place. Usually I would’ve just said we could work through it. But I guess I wanted ya to grow on your own, too. To not have me encourage ya every step of the way. Not that I don’t like to do that, but I wanted to show ya that you don’t need me either. That you’re incredible and strong all on your own.”

“Osamu.”

“But then I realized I didn’t have to do that. We didn’t have to break up for us to grow into who we are on our own. By then it was too late, though. But you just looked so happy. I never wanted to mess with that. So I didn’t bother ya, and now that I’m lookin’ at ya as an adult I’m just so fuckin’ proud of ya, of all of your accomplishments and the way you carry yourself. You’re just-“

“Osamu.”

“Yeah?”

You reached up and wiped a single tear drop falling down his cheek.

“You’re crying.”

“Oh, shit.” He turned away, wiping his eyes quickly and looking back at you. “I’m sorry. Man, I just started pourin’ my heart out to ya and couldn’t stop.”

“It’s okay.” You leaned in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt him let out a heavy exhale as he pulled you on top of his lap and right against him.

“I missed ya.” He sighed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So much. Fuck.”

You tried to respond but you were choked up. You hadn’t realized you were crying, either.

He lifted his head up and looked directly at you. Osamu’s smile was kind, his expression vulnerable and it warmed your heart just looking at him.

“I missed you, too.” You said quietly.

“Really?”

“Yes, really!” You pulled back, planting the palms of your hands on his chest. “You have no idea how much I missed you, ‘Samu. Every day I waited for you to call me. But I thought you didn’t want to. So I finally accepted it and tried to move on. But like you said, I couldn’t actually do that. Nobody compares to you.”

Osamu hummed in agreement, resting his hands comfortably on your hips.

“It’s nice to hear ya say that.”

“Speaking of that,” You smirked, “Did I hear you say you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen?”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” He blinked up at you, absolutely no hesitation in his response. “I wanted to real bad.”

Your last strand of self control snapped the moment you heard those words. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his and instinctively tangling your fingers in his hair.

His voice rumbled low in his throat as he wrapped an arm around your lower back, pulling you against him as tight as possible while he stood up.

“Osamu!” You giggled, wrapping your legs around him. “Don’t-“

“I won’t drop ya, baby.” He assured you, pressing his lips back to yours. The sweet name of endearment made your heart melt and all you could think about in that moment was him. “Not now, not ever. Never again. You’re stuck with me.”

———

AN: Thanks so much for reading! I didn’t proofread this more than once, so please excuse any mistakes. I wrote this two years ago and forgot how much I loved it. God, timeskip Osamu is such a husband. ♡

[spiderlandry]

steady ticking of a clock (part 1) — ethan landry

Description: You and Ethan became childhood friends when you began talking to each other across your balconies in New Jersey. You both reunite in New York City, older and yet still young; consequently making Ethan face what could have been and what could be.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader (they/them)

Warnings/Tags: unedited (but will edit soon🤝), fluff, angst, open ending but it will be resolved in part 2 🫠, a bit unrealistic college life but for plot reasons

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: ignore the new york/jersey inaccuracies ive never been there

Ethan once came up with a plan to stay in one spot forever. A point in time that he can live over and over again, never having to move forward with the uncertainty of what shall come next. That point was his childhood aprtment in New Jersey, the week before you left. His solution was a time machine—and he laid out his plans to you when you were almost teenagers.

Your apartment was right next to his. Your balconies were close enough that you could hold a conversation, and your secret meetings soon became the highlight of Ethan’s day. It may have been the mystery of it all; always separated by a fissure between the two platforms but still finding a way to communicate.

Ethan knew the reason he spoke to you was because he felt bad that you were new to the building, and overheard you talking on the phone to a friend back home and telling them that you’d felt lonely in the new city. He even surprised himself with the way he began the conversation with demanding you become his friend rather than asking politely like his father taught him to.

You never had the chance to talk to him face-to-face until you broke the news of your moving to another state once again. It was a vivid memory, the way Ethan’s heart cracked, and he rushed over out into the hallway and told you to meet him out there. He hugged you and said, I’m going to make a time machine so we can live here forever.

Perhaps he had taken your presence for granted, because the next week, you were gone. He never went out into the balcony again.

And now, in New York City, at a frat party Chad dragged him to, Ethan began to think that maybe it wasn’t too late to change his major to theoretical physics and get started on that time machine.

Because you were there. In front of him.

Though you were older, taller, and had an air of confidence around you he‘d never seen but figured you could always have—your smile never changed. The hair was different, but the curve of your lips and the wrinkle of your nose stayed the same. You held a drink in your hand but it wasn’t alcoholic, and Ethan’s mind ran wild with the prospect of your interests and the reasons behind them. You‘ve gained more life experience, just as he had. But that excited him. He wanted to know more, know everything, and know you just as much as he knew you then.

“It’s been a while,” you said. It did a good job of snapping him out of his stupor.

“Um—yeah,” he stammered, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “It has.”

“You live in New York?”

He scratched an invisible itch on his neck. “Since the last year of high-school. You?”

Maybe his heart broke a second time when you said, “Oh, no. I’m just visiting.”

He was so sure it worsened the one he already had from the first time you left. But there’s no way he’d let you know, if he had anything to do with it.

“How long are you gonna be here, then?” He tried to brush off the slight tremor in his voice, the way he tapered off the question. Hopefully you forgot his tells.

“I’m just here for a few days,” you shrugged. He realized that you sounded sad about it too, but maybe it was wishful thinking on his part. “I’m going back Sunday.”

He held back from asking where exactly you were going back to, but you must have read his mind because you added: “I’m in Chicago now, by the way. Probably dumb, but do you remember—“

The answer tumbled out of him on instinct. “That’s where your brother wanted to go for college.”

A sweet smile graced your face upon hearing it. “Yeah,” you chuckled. “He’s—that’s why we moved again. You go to Blackmore?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “This is just—“ he cringed when somebody bumped into him, spilling a bit of their drink. He subsequently moved to lean against the closest wall out of the way. “I don’t party. Not really. I hate it.”

Pausing, you thought for a moment. “Let’s go outside.”

Ethan hoped he still meant something to you. He was a sentimental person. When he loves somebody, that love will always be there, whether platonic or romantic. But he didn’t know what you were like. Maybe you’d become cold, or mean, though he doubted that because your smile warmed him like the sun.

“How’s the family?” You asked, keeping a short distance from the frat house, leaning against a fence.

“The same,” he sighed. “You?”

“The same.” You grinned. “Does Quinn study here, too?”

“Yeah, yeah she does.”

There was an awkward beat where neither of you knew how to continue this conversation. So much for being childhood friends, he thought.

“Are you…are you with anybody?” You suddenly asked, Ethan’s heart dropping upon hearing it.

At his bewildered expression, you clarified, “I mean at this party! Did you come here with a friend or alone?”

He laughed, relieved. “Yeah, my friend dragged me here. Why? Are you?”

“Visiting my friend. I was just asking because…you know…maybe we could ditch the party for a bit,” you shrugged.

“Really? I mean,” He was a tad too excited. He cleared his throat, reverting his voice back into a lower register, “Really?”

It was your turn to laugh. “Really. I can just text my friend, he’ll understand.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere.”

Walking under the moonlight with nobody else around, Ethan gradually became more comfortable getting to know you all over again. He found out you chose to follow in your brother’s footsteps in studying law in Chicago. You liked milkshakes, your cat was still alive and kicking, and your favourite food was the same as it was years ago.

You got to know him, too. He told you about his major, about his friends, about what he hated in college along with its advantages. You seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say, and though it’s not a competition or anything, he was so sure he was more interested in you than you were of him. He hung onto your every word. He finally opened up the locked box containing his most precious memories of you (every single one of them, that is), and he could add to it again.

There was no doubting of your ability to draw him back into your orbit, regardless of the time lost. Hopefully he would be the same to you.

Look, Ethan hated icebreakers. But when you suggested to play twenty-one questions, he couldn’t possibly turn you down.

They were simple questions. Favourite colour, the place you wanted to travel most, anything either of you thought of.

But you asked: “First love?”

He did not hesitate to answer: “Pass,” Ethan shook his head. “My turn.”

“Wait—hey!” You protested. “You cannot do that.”

“I can do what I want.” He was grinning, but there was a pit in his stomach telling him not to let you find out that he’d never been with anybody.

“Why don’t you wanna answer?”

“Because I don’t!”

You hummed. “I bet you’re still heartbroken,” you teased. “Fine, let’s keep going.”

He didn’t think to ask you about your first love. Maybe he did it on purpose. He really didn’t want that kind of knowledge, it would eat at him knowing he wasn’t yours.

Why, though? As you both reached Ethan’s dorm building, he looked at you—whywhywhywhywhywhy—Why did he hate the idea of him not being your first love?

He didn’t have time to think about that.

He invited you into his dorm with a smile, screaming internally.

Seeing you sitting on his dorm bed was straight out of his dreams. Surreal.

“You’re a sophomore, right?”

“Uhm, yeah.” He sat down at his desk, fidgeting with his hands. “I forgot you’re a year older than me.”

There was a few moments of silence where you were just…staring at him. He resisted cowering under your gaze because it really did look like you were just zoning out.

Unbeknownst to him, you had to force yourself to close your mouth at the sight. You had an elevated view of him just sitting there. But it was the way he sat with legs spread far apart, with a devilish grin, leaning back—how could you focus?

“I can’t believe you forgot,” you continued as if it that didn’t just happen. “I never used to let you live it down. I never would have, if I hadn’t left.”

He shook his head. He never wanted to imagine what could have happened if you stayed.

“What else would have happened?” He began. “If you stayed, I mean.”

“We probably would have gone to high school together,” you said nonchalantly. “A friend group, maybe? How was your high school experience?”

“Not…great.”

“Me too, actually. It would’ve been better if you were there.”

“Let’s change the subject,” he nervously laughed. “How’s pre-law?”

In the middle of your conversation, at almost midnight, Ethan’s phone pinged with a text from his roommate.

Chad

hey bro not gonna be home tonight im staying at taras

That’s when he got the idea.

“What?” You blurted. He looked at you, confused.

“What do you mean, what?”

“You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you just realized something.”

He stared up at you, amazed that you could read him so easily even after the time apart.

“Do you wanna stay over?” He asked before the courage ran out. “I have some clothes you can wear, and I’ll sleep in my roommate’s room since he’s not coming home tonight.”

Thankfully, you agreed.

SATURDAY

You woke up with twenty messages from your friend asking where you were. You frantically responded saying you were fine, along with your friend cancelling plans. You went to get Ethan to wake him up.

Much to your surprise, he was already in the tiny kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Since when do you wake up this early?” You took the mug of coffee he handed you. Even if he never knew how you liked it, it was still somehow perfect.

“Just for my special guest,” he teased. “After all, can’t have my lawyer starve to death.”

You laughed as handed you a plate and got one for him, too.

“Are you busy this weekend?” You asked.

Ethan stopped his actions for a moment, and you were sure he looked confused.

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Wanna take me sightseeing around the city? I’ve never been to New York before.”

His head tilted like a puppy, and those doe eyes certainly weren’t helping.

“What about your friend? The one you’re visiting?”

“He cancelled,” you shrugged. “We’ve been hanging out the past few days, anyway.”

The sweet boy, your Ethan, smiled and said he would take you. After you both finished breakfast, you went back to your hotel room to shower and change.

Being with Ethan again re-energized you. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe it was how you imagined a future with him when you were kids until you were so rudely ripped from each other’s lives too soon, or how he grew up to be a good guy like you always thought.

Spending the day with him, he said he’d take you to his favourite places He called himself your tour guide.

“Oh, yeah?” You bantered, walking side by side on the street. Though the city was loud, the bubble in which you entered while with Ethan was quiet. “Are you gonna take me to all the tourist spots?”

“No,” there it was again. That devilish grin. Not devilish, not really. You were sure he didn’t mean it to be so mischievous but his half-lidded eyes made you think otherwise. “You’re getting the Ethan Special.”

“And what might that be?”

“Places that aren’t this crowded.” He shrugged. “One might even call them…underground.”

“You’re dumb,” you laughed as you reached the subway station. “Where’s the first stop?”

“You’ll find out.”

It was a tiny, locally-owned bookshop in Brooklyn. When you walked in, the old man at the counter personally greeted Ethan with a grin.

“I remember you said you love books,” Ethan mentioned sheepishly, trailing you as you gawked in awe of the shelves. “The guy who owns this place is a family friend of ours, so we got a discount. I’ll pay for whatever you want.”

Your head snapped to his direction. “No way, E. Nope.”

“What—why?”

“Books are expensive. I have my own money, anyway.”

“Come on, Y/N. Just let me pay once. My dad’s covering college costs so I’ve been saving.”

“You’re so spoiled,” you smirked. “Fine. But once. And I’ll only get one book, I don’t wanna hurt your bank account.”

“You’re so lame, dude.”

You playfully shoved him. God, the proximity between you two was intoxicating—the place was small.

He convinced to get you three books once he saw you eyeing certain ones. You reluctantly agreed, but with the promise of paying for lunch.

You kept your promise, paying for him at his favourite Indian restaurant.

Despite his insistence not to take you to touristy spots, he said he couldn’t let you leave until he took you to the Brooklyn Bridge.

Though it was crowded, it was perfect because Ethan was with you the entire time.

The way he was taking care of you, watching out for you at every moment, wasn’t lost on you at all. It warmed your heart. But you began to dread tomorrow, when you had to leave.

Ethan’s curls blew in the wind. The sun kissed his skin like it was made for him, and your heart hammered against your ribs while you stared at his side profile looking to the expanse of the river. He was beautiful. Your legs were numb but you never wanted to leave.

“Shit,” his swear caught you off guard. “I forgot I told Chad I would do the grocery shopping this week.”

“Did you tell him where you are?”

“No, he probably thinks I’m getting groceries right now.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get groceries.”

“But—but what about your trip?”

“What about it? Let’s go!” You ran ahead of him, and he chased after you.

You and Ethan went back to his dorm to drop off the books and get his car. There was something surreal about seeing him so grown-up. As kids, you never clearly envisioned becoming an adult except that you wanted Ethan in it. Sitting in the passenger seat, the domesticity of your actions made you realize how much of a disservice moving away was for your younger self. You were robbed of seeing Ethan grow up with you, somehow.

Getting groceries with Ethan was more fun than you expected. He made it fun, cracking jokes and even offering to buy you snacks.

After you’d both unloaded the groceries, Ethan asked, “What now?”

The fatigue had caught up to you rather quickly. You suggested a movie, he agreed. It was supposed to be simple.

Somehow, some way, you ended up in his arms as the sun went down. By then he had already relaxed himself against the couch and fell asleep.

You felt a buzz from your jacket pocket, a text from your friend coming through; one who knew about your spending the day with Ethan.

how was it?

i think i fell in love with him

SUNDAY

Ethan was up all night tossing, turning, and thinking. Spending a whole day with you right next to him was all he’d ever wanted in life. Forget his other dreams, he needed you. Nothing trumped how he felt being with you.

He sent you a text first thing in the morning.

when’s ur flight?

You responded a few minutes later:

at three.

doing anything today?

not really

can I take you somewhere? i’ll pick u up

You weren’t sure what he had in mind, but you agreed regardless.

Turns out, it was the Morgan Library and Museum. You marvelled as you entered, and Ethan, unbeknownst to you, admired your beauty while you turned your head up to the high ceilings.

You were to leave today. He had to tell you what was on his mind at some point before that or else he was positive he would go crazy.

In a small, particularly secluded and quiet corner in the building, he stopped walking. It took you a few seconds to realize, but when you did a few feet ahead of him, you strode back in bewilderment.

“What are you doing standing here, come on.”

“I…” he sighed. “I have to tell you something.”

Your face visibly dropped along with his heart.

“What is it?”

“I think I have f—”

You immediately held your hand up, “Don’t say it.” You whispered, glancing around as if there were people around to hear.

Ethan’s face felt hot. “Why?” You couldn’t have possibly known what he was going to say, could you? Or maybe you just read his mind so easily. “You don’t know what I’m gonna say.”

“Please, Ethan.” You knew that look. Subconsciously, your mind permanently burned his face the day you told him you were leaving. This time, though, he stood more confident, taller, more sure of himself. And you didn’t want to go down this path. You begged him not to say it.

“Let me say it,” he pleaded as you did. “I want you in my life. Forever. Preferably as—like, maybe, more than friends. Or not. Whatever you want. I can take you on dates, we’ll call every night, and I’ll visit—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, effectively cutting him off. He saw the sheen in your eyes.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

His heart shattered like you had taken a hammer to a glass wall.

Once you were sure he got the message, you took off your hand.

“We can be friends, Ethan.” You blinked back tears. “But not more than that.”

“That’s—I’m good with that.”

“You don’t understand,” you shook your head.

“I think I do.”

“You don’t.” You snapped. “Because I want to be with you, too.”

A flicker of hope in his chest extinguished in the next second.

“Then let’s be together.”

“We can’t,” you insisted. “I don’t do distance, E. And I want to this—us—right.”

You stared into each other’s eyes, both begging for opposite things in silence.

Ethan was thinking, you could tell. He clenched his jaw.

His mind looped only one scenario at this moment. One where you stayed. He let himself think about what would happen if you hadn’t left, just this once, he let himself indulge in the fantasy, and asked:

“If you stayed,” he took a deep breath, pulling you closer with a caress of your jaw. “Could…could you have fallen in love with me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. He pulled up your chin in retaliation. “I would have.”

“What about now?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” I already have, you thought.

That was when it hit him.

You were his first love. That’s why he hated the thought of someone else getting to love you the same way he always wanted to.

His heart tied itself to yours across that balcony, years and years ago, without warning. He was meant to find you, and he knew that you would both find each other time and time again, against all odds.

“Bet you wish you made that time machine now, hm?” You joked, lightening the mood after a beat.

To his surprise, he laughed. With his heart still in pieces in your hands. Without his knowledge, you had left your future in Jersey.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you think it’s too late?”

“It is,” you put your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder and reveling in his warmth. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“You don’t need it. Because we’ll be friends. Stay in each other’s lives, no matter what. Then, when the time is right…”

“We’ll find each other again.”

[rott1ngbra1n]

First off! I wanna go ahead and drop some fun art stuff I’ve been doing as I’ve been watching Dragons Rising season 2, which I’ve been loving!

I did a version of Arin before but it wasn’t my favorite so a redo! More AlleyCat stuff and obligatory Cole, because I love him.

I do have more Ninjago Art I want to do (Still need to finish that Cole and Morro friend piece-) and I have some other fandom art I also want to do, but I’ll explain more under the cut as well as why I’ve been gone or a bit less active everywhere. This is optional you do not have to read under the cut!

TW// Transphobia

For those unaware I am a trans man, I go by a different name: both online and IRL (online for privacy’s sake), I also work as a barista due to being a college student and needing to save money for moving away from my own transphobic parents. That’s a whole other story. But at work there was a coworker of mine who was consistently transphobic towards me whenever we worked together. It had been going on since June of last year (The irony of it starting during pride month made me and my friends laugh) but it escalated after I returned from New York, so much so I had to go to management.

Myself. Management had been informed by my best friend (who also works with me) about it and was told it was “gossip”. Ok. Sure- So I informed management of the new incidents and was told I had options, the first being to have a meeting with me, the transphobe, and my manager to discuss the issues. I said no so my manager went to the DM to find another solution. To give even more context, the transphobe couldn’t even be transphobic to my face most times it was always told behind my back to my best friend.

That’s how I knew my manager talked to the transphobe one on one, cause the transphobe right after the meeting went to said best friend. Telling her “not to tell me as she didn’t want to start drama” Cool, I feel so cool. I was very mad, went back to my manager with it, had that meeting with myself, the transphobe, and manager. Where my emotions were downplayed and the transphobe said she had “never interacted with a trans person before and didn’t know what she said was wrong.” OK.

SURE.

After that we assumed it was over, my manager made an incident report, but it didn’t stop the transphobe still kept talking behind my back to others. Despite me talking respectfully of her. More context all the talking behind my back happened at work while on the clock. After a while I just went about my day, then Ethics and Compliance called. They spoke to everyone involved, including me and I relayed more about my testimony. They said they would be investigating and I assumed it would take a while, then finally. I was informed that the transphobe was in fact fired.

This whole situation, along with other personal stuff going on with me, caused so much stress. To the point I tended to fallback into habits I had thought I fixed, mainly regarding my physical health. Even at points hating myself for just existing and having been born wrong.

I’m thankfully doing so much better now and have recently gotten diagnosed with Autism, something I knew I had but didn’t fully understand for a while. I’ve been getting better existing in a world knowing the people that are my blood hate me, knowing that eventually, I will never be able to be loved by my parents or sister. I have friends and coworkers who support me and I want to support other people in this community.

With that said I’m back to making more art! I’m building a portfolio for animation and to intern next year, I also will be trying to post more animations to here when I finish them! I also will still be active in the Ninjago fandom, I’ve loved this show since it came out in 2011 y’all can pry it from my cold dead hands-

But I do want to make more original work, I want to do more Star Wars work, QSMP art and animations, and more Musical Theater art whether it be Broadway or Indie productions. I hope people enjoy what I make, especially some of my original characters as I’ve gotten to work on Cybernetic more thanks to my animation class. You’ll see more of it as we go!

Thank you if you’ve read this and thank you for supporting me!

[inanimatefan1]

The Unusual Prank

The Unusual Prank

Mark always had an inkling that his college roommate, Ben, had an odd fascination with his underwear. Occasionally, he’d find his worn boxers missing from the laundry, and the few he did find seemed oddly stretched out. Mark had a hunch about what Ben might be up to, and while it was a strange situation, he also saw an opportunity for a unique prank. One evening, Mark stumbled upon an online store that sold "TF potions," elixirs that could temporarily transform humans into objects. An idea popped into his head, and after confirming the potion’s reversible effect, he made a purchase. The next morning, Mark discreetly poured the potion into Ben’s orange juice at breakfast. Within seconds of drinking it, Ben found himself transformed into a pair of boxers, neatly folded on Mark’s bed. Mark, hearing Ben's confused thoughts, chuckled.

“You’re in for an experience today, Ben,” Mark teased, picking up the underwear. “Ever wanted to know what it’s like being someone’s boxers for a day?” The shock was evident in the fabric's subtle quivers. Mark put on the Ben-boxers, making him feel sensations he’d never imagined. Every step Mark took, every sit, every jump was a new sensation for Ben. He felt stretched, compressed, and warmed. As the day wore on, Mark attended lectures, played basketball with his friends, and even went for a run. The intense physical activity made the Ben-boxers sweaty and damp. Initially, Ben's mental protests were loud and frantic, but as the day continued, they lessened in intensity. The scent that he had once secretly admired now enveloped him, and he found himself feeling more at ease.

That evening, after a particularly vigorous workout, Mark threw the Ben-boxers into his laundry hamper, where they lay buried under other sweaty garments. All through the night, Ben felt the weight and warmth of other clothes on him. Come morning, Mark did his laundry. As he added detergent, he also poured in a memory-erasing solution that he'd acquired. The boxers swirled and tumbled in the washing machine, and with every rinse, Ben’s memories of his day as underwear faded.

Once the cycle was done, Ben found himself back in his human form, lying in his bed, groggy and disoriented. He remembered nothing of the day before, only a vast emptiness where memories should be. Mark looked at his friend, torn between revealing the truth and enjoying Ben's bewilderment. For now, he chose silence, smirking at the thought of the secret he held.

Mark found it hard to shake off the memory of how Ben had felt as a pair of boxers. The unique sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and it felt like an intriguing secret between them, even if Ben was unaware of it. The temptation was too strong to resist, and Mark decided to recreate the prank. Every few days, he'd discreetly administer the TF potion to Ben, transforming him into a pair of boxers. With every transformation, Ben's protests and discomfort seemed to decrease, becoming mere murmurs that faded quickly. It was as if, subconsciously, he was adapting to his temporary state, finding a strange peace in the simplicity of being an inanimate object. Mark reveled in the experience, feeling an odd connection with his friend during these episodes. He'd often wonder what went through Ben's mind during the transformations. Was there a familiarity? Did he somehow recognize the routine? Weeks went by, and Mark noticed a pattern. The initial confusion Ben experienced during his transformation shortened with each occurrence, replaced swiftly by a quiet acceptance. It was as if a part of him was surrendering to the experience, finding solace in the temporary escape from the complexities of human life. However, as the frequency of these episodes increased, Mark began to feel a growing unease. Was it right to continue subjecting Ben to this without his knowledge or consent? The ethical implications of his actions weighed heavily on him.

One day, Mark found a note on his desk. It read: "I don't know how, but I feel it. I know something's happening, even if I can't remember. Please, whatever you're doing, stop."

Mark was consumed by the sensation. The feeling of Ben as his underwear was incomparable, providing a sense of intimacy and power that he had never known before. Even though he recognized the ethical implications of his actions, the allure was too great. He rationalized his actions, telling himself that Ben didn't seem to mind anymore. The muted protests from the past were almost non-existent now, replaced with what felt like a silent acceptance. Weeks turned into months. Each transformation was followed by a cycle of laundry, complete with the memory-erasing solution, ensuring Ben remained unaware of his recurring plight. As far as Ben knew, he was just experiencing occasional bouts of fatigue or disorientation. But as Mark continued to indulge his desires, he began to grow bolder. Instead of returning Ben to his human form after a day, he let the transformations last longer. Two days, then three, and soon, Ben was spending entire weeks as nothing more than fabric against Mark's skin. With every transformation, Mark became more convinced that this was how things should be. Ben seemed almost at peace in this form, and Mark wondered if maybe, at some level, his friend preferred this simpler existence. Consumed by his obsession and the newfound control he felt, Mark began to entertain the thought of keeping Ben as his underwear permanently. The campus around them carried on, none the wiser. Friends inquired about Ben's whereabouts, and Mark would simply reply that he was visiting family or taking some time off. No one suspected the truth.

One day, as Mark was about to administer the potion once more, he paused. In front of him was an old photograph of the two of them, laughing at some long-forgotten joke. Memories of their friendship, their shared experiences, and the bond they once had flooded back. Was this fleeting sensation worth losing a lifetime of camaraderie and trust?

Torn between his desires and the weight of guilt, Mark made a choice. He decided not to use the potion again. The next morning Ben stands in front of his bedroom door and bangs on it It was Ben, looking confused and concerned. "Mark," he began, his voice quivering, "I don't know how, but I remember... everything." Their eyes met, a silent acknowledgment of the secret between them. The room was thick with tension as they faced the reality of their situation and the uncertain future of their relationship.

Confronted with fragments of memories that didn’t fit his normal life, Ben felt like he was grappling with two distinct realities. The first was his life as he had known it: a simple college student with aspirations, shared moments with friends, and the daily grind of studying. The second, a more visceral and intimate experience as a pair of underwear worn by his best friend, Mark. The initial anger Ben felt was inevitable. To have his agency taken away and to be transformed without his consent was a breach of trust of the highest degree. "How could you?" he shouted at Mark, the weight of betrayal evident in his eyes. Mark, guilt evident on his face, tried to apologize, but words failed him. There was no simple way to justify his actions, no matter how they might have started as a harmless prank.

However, as the days turned into weeks, a strange feeling began to grow within Ben. The more he reflected on his time as Mark's underwear, the more he found himself missing certain aspects of it. There was a primal comfort in the experience: the warmth, the closeness, the almost meditative simplicity of just existing without the worries and anxieties of human life. And, as strange as it was to admit, there was something about Mark's scent that felt reassuring, a constant in the disorienting world of being an object. One evening, Ben approached Mark, his demeanor softer. "Mark, what you did was wrong," he began, "but there's something I can't shake off. Some parts of being... well, your underwear... they weren't all bad."

Mark looked up, surprised. "I never imagined you'd say something like that." "It's confusing," Ben admitted. "I feel violated, but at the same time, there's this odd sense of nostalgia. Maybe it's the safety, the simplicity, or just the break from reality. I don't know." The two sat down, discussing their feelings at length. They shared their fears, desires, and the myriad emotions the situation had brought up. Mark confessed his obsession, while Ben delved into the unique sensations and experiences he remembered. Realizing the depth of their bond and the unusual circumstances that had tested it, they decided on a compromise. With full consent, they would allow Ben to transform occasionally, but with clear boundaries in place. The two friends entered a new chapter of their relationship, one marked by trust, understanding, and a shared secret that only brought them closer.

After their heart-to-heart, Mark and Ben agreed that any future transformations would require mutual consent, understanding, and set boundaries. Ben's curiosity, combined with the strangely comforting memories of his past experiences, made him decide to undergo the transformation again, this time willingly. One evening, with Mark by his side, Ben drank the TF potion. A familiar sensation enveloped him as he transitioned from his human form into a pair of soft, well-fitted boxers. Mark carefully picked him up, the fabric of Ben-boxers warm in his hands. This time, the experience was markedly different for both of them. There was no secrecy or guilt, just mutual understanding and trust. As the days went by, Ben became increasingly attuned to his surroundings. The rhythm of Mark's day, the play of sunlight and shadow in the room, and especially the intimate sensations of being worn became an intrinsic part of his existence. For Mark, the week was a lesson in empathy and responsibility. Knowing that his friend was fully aware of each moment, he was more conscious of his actions. The two developed a unique form of communication. Subtle shifts in fabric tension allowed Ben to convey basic emotions, while Mark would sometimes talk aloud, sharing his day or simply chatting as if Ben were still in his human form beside him. The week was a mix of mundane routines, introspective moments, and the occasional laughter. But as the end neared, both felt a growing anticipation. What would Ben feelings be once he returned to his human form? How would this shared experience shape their friendship?

When the transformation reversed, Ben sat up, taking a few moments to adjust to the flood of sensations that being human brought. Mark, watching closely, saw a mix of relief, contemplation, and something he couldn't quite pinpoint in Ben's eyes. "How do you feel?" Mark finally asked. Ben took a deep breath. "It was... enlightening. Being an object, especially something as intimate as underwear, is both limiting and liberating. I missed being human, but there were moments of pure contentment that I've never felt before."

Mark listening intently as Ben began to delve deeper into his experience as underwear. He watched Ben's expressions closely, noticing the slight furrowing of his brow, the intensity in his gaze. It was evident this was a topic Ben had been mulling over, trying to find the right words to explain. "When I said the experience was enlightening, I wasn't just talking about the good parts," Ben began, his voice slightly shaky. "There were moments of pure discomfort, sensations that were, for lack of a better word, toxic." Mark leaned forward, genuinely concerned. "Toxic? How?"

Ben took a deep breath. "Your sweat, Mark. Over the week, I became saturated with it. And it wasn't just the dampness. It was... penetrating. I felt every molecule, every salt particle. It seeped into my fabric form, and I couldn't escape it. There were times when it felt oppressive, almost suffocating." Mark swallowed hard, guilt evident in his eyes. "I... I never thought about it that way. I mean, I knew you'd feel the sweat, but I didn't realize it'd be so... intense."

"It's hard to describe," Ben continued. "Imagine being trapped in a room filling with water, and you can't escape. It's like that, but at a microscopic level. There's a certain vulnerability to it. I was at the mercy of your body's natural processes, and while some moments were comfortable and even enjoyable, others were overwhelming." Mark nodded, absorbing Ben's words. "I'm so sorry, Ben. If I'd known-"

Ben interrupted, "It's not entirely your fault. I chose to undergo the transformation again, knowing the potential challenges. But I felt it was important for you to understand the full scope of the experience." The room was silent for a moment, the weight of Ben's revelations settling between them. Mark finally broke the silence, "Thank you for sharing that with me. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been. If we ever consider doing this again, we'll need to think about these things." Ben smiled faintly, "It's a journey, Mark. One filled with highs and lows. But I'm glad we're navigating it together."

Ben had tried everything. Showers, perfumes, essential oils – nothing seemed to rid him of the residual sensation and odor that clung to him since his transformation. Every breath he took, every movement reminded him of the week he'd spent as Mark's underwear. It wasn’t just a memory; it felt like a part of him now, and it was driving him to the brink of despair. One evening, he approached Mark, desperation evident in his eyes. "Mark, I need another dose of the TF liquid." Mark looked up, concerned. "Why, Ben? Why would you want to go through that again?" Ben exhaled heavily, "It's this smell, this sensation. It's like it's imprinted on me. I thought it would fade, but it hasn’t. I think... I think if I transform again and you wash me properly, it might cleanse this lingering effect." Mark frowned, contemplating the implications. "It's a risky proposition, Ben. We don't know if that will work, or if it might make things worse." "But I can't keep going like this," Ben's voice cracked, showcasing his frustration and desperation. "I need to try something, anything." After a long discussion, weighing the potential risks and benefits, they decided to give it a shot. Mark retrieved the TF liquid, and with a steadying breath, Ben drank it. The transformation was quicker this time, the familiar sensation of fabric replacing flesh. Mark gently picked up the Ben-boxers and headed to the laundry room. He wanted to be thorough, using a mild detergent and ensuring a complete rinse cycle to hopefully rid Ben of the lingering sensations.

Hours later, after a careful drying process, Mark administered the antidote. Ben slowly returned to his human form, the transition smoother with each occurrence. Taking a deep breath, Ben tried to gauge if the procedure had worked. The initial results were promising; the overpowering scent seemed to have faded. But it would take time to see if the residual feelings were truly gone. "Thank you," Ben whispered, gratitude evident in his eyes. Mark nodded, "Anything for a friend. Let's hope this did the trick." Over the next few days, Ben monitored his senses closely. The cleansing seemed to have made a difference. The intense, pervasive sensations had dimmed, replaced with his familiar, human feelings.

Despite Mark's careful handwashing, the effect seemed temporary. Within a week, the overpowering scent and sensation returned, casting a shadow over Ben's daily life. The persistence of the residual feeling was beginning to take a toll on his mental well-being. "It's like I'm stuck in this perpetual state," Ben admitted to Mark one evening, a look of desolation in his eyes. "The mild solution didn't work. Maybe we need to try something more... extreme." Mark considered this, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps a proper machine wash? Multiple cycles might help. Or even dry cleaning. They use chemicals and processes that might do the trick." Ben looked hesitant but determined. "I'll take the risk. If it means a chance to be free from this persistent feeling, I'm willing to try." Having made their decision, they used the TF potion once again, and Ben transitioned back into a pair of boxers. Mark was meticulous this time. He placed Ben inside a mesh laundry bag for protection and set the washing machine for a gentle cycle first, hoping that a gradual escalation might work.

After the first cycle, Mark took Ben out, allowing him to air dry before repeating the process. Two more wash cycles followed, each slightly more intense than the last. However, after three cycles, they felt it was best to also explore the dry cleaning option. Mark carefully packed up the Ben-boxers and took them to a trusted local dry cleaner, explaining that the fabric was unique and required special attention. The dry cleaner, intrigued by the fabric's texture and the peculiar scent it carried, agreed to try a couple of different methods. After two days, Mark returned to collect the now-cleaned underwear, hoping against hope that the processes had done the trick.

Administering the antidote, Ben transitioned back to his human form. Taking a few moments to gather himself, he took a deep breath. "It feels... clearer. Less saturated." Days turned into weeks, and the oppressive feeling and scent didn't return. The combination of thorough washes and professional dry cleaning seemed to have purged the residual effects from Ben´s system.

Both friends sighed in relief, grateful for the return to normalcy. They had learned their lesson about the unpredictability of the TF potion and the potential ramifications of their decisions. As the days went by, they focused on rebuilding their lives, ensuring that their bond remained untainted by any external influences.