#i love you wikihow please never change

[apollos-boyfriend]

did you know that if youre afraid of slenderman you should imagine him as calamari

source: https://www.wikihow.com/Get-over-Your-Fear-of-Slenderman

oh BOY could i

[onewingeddove444]

★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry

word count: 1.1k

Alex:

-would probably not even notice you're crying at first

-his expression would change so quickly

-😀😦

-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇

-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))

-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol

-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"

-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying

-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again

Elliott:

-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer

-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."

-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭

-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear

-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision

-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad

-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him

-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))

-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book

Harvey:

-man....😭

-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao

-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu

-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore

-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions

-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️

-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))

-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁

-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week

-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))

Sam:

-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him

-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“

-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it

-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(

-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"

-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up

-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))

-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube

-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))

-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))

Sebastian:

-freezes immediately

-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭

-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that

-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more

-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself

-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))

-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything

-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching

-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏

-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating

Shane:

-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️

-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc

-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)

-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that

-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭

-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"

-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again

-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again

-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)

-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have

[the-bees-patella]

Hello there, for the writer ask 🤗 and/or 🧐 please.

From this writer ask meme.

(Research ask answered here. Also this got long as hell, RIP).

What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I have never been "good" at fandom in terms of engagement, follower counts, and other metrics, and personally, that's not why I'm here. So this will be about becoming a better writer, so if that's something you're interested in, this is for you.

To start, I think the myth of talent is particularly pervasive in artistic fields, which both makes beginners feel discouraged and can make consumers, for lack of a better word, feel thoughtlessly entitled to our work. It's talent! It's not work, why are you complaining?

Don't fall for that shit. You can become a decent writer with some hard work and effort. That can be a double-edged sword, and on some days, that won't feel true or possible. I won't say I have the answers to how to make it happen. This isn't WikiHow. There's no YouTube video for this.

The only things I'd stipulate are:

Figure out what works for you. If you're following writing blogs or reading books about writing, you can get new ideas, but you'll soon realize some of them are useless. As you write more, you'll come to understand your preferences and tendencies better, and sometimes you'll be tempted to change them to better fit your idea of a "good" or "serious" writer. 97% of the time, you can't. Everybody has a Hemingway phase but nobody but Hemingway was or is Hemingway. You are the artist you are. Take what you need and travel light.

Read widely and write a lot. Reading is necessary to expand your knowledge of what's possible, and writing requires diligence, like any other skill. Even talent needs to be honed on the whetstone of practice. It's the only way anybody got good at anything. There are no shortcuts. Writers are not born, they are made.

I could stop there, really. But I already typed up this whole thing, so a couple more specific tips:

Develop your taste.

If you've started writing, you've already started on the journey of developing a sense of taste, probably because you've spent a lot of time reading. (If you haven't: start there. And read all sorts of things: short stories, long-form journalism, poetry, novels. The only way to develop taste is to see what's out there).

It may seem counterintuitive, but to develop your own voice, I think it's necessary to look to others. When you're reading something that punches you in the gut, maybe makes you feel a little despair that you'll never be this good, read it again and pay attention to your own reactions. When did you feel the punch? Why did you feel it? Isolate those elements and keep them in mind while writing your own stuff. Expanding the vocabulary of your creative voice can mean sitting down with a book or a story and taking literal notes. Leaving comments can be a good exercise, because it makes you look at a story more closely. Also, I think it's important to let people know when they've touched you. After all, isn't that what we're all after? Plus, people love detailed comments. Go out, be the change, etc.

If that all sounds a little bit too much like English class to you…yeah, kind of. I should have opened with the caveat that while of course fic is a hobby and it's just for fun, it's not that important, that's no reason not to take it seriously. I don't mean you should have to get an MFA to write fanfiction, God fucking forbid. And sometimes you just want to read (or write) fic and relax and not think too hard, and that's fine too, have at it. (You're still writing and reading, as verbs). I'm just saying there's also nothing wrong with dedicating time and attention to it, and sometimes, that's going to be hard.

Good. That means it's working.

2. Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

Fail. Fail hard, fail often, learn to fail better. They can't all be winners. If you're stuck in a doom spiral, thinking, "this is bad, this is the worst, I don't know how to write—" Okay, fine. Lean in. Make it worse. Make it the worst thing you've ever written. Maybe you just have a little writing indigestion. Just barf some rancid words onto the page. Nobody has to see it. Give yourself the freedom to be as indulgent and terrible as you want; a cringe secret between you and your word processor.

So much of what writers describe as "process" is just getting your inner critic to shut up for long enough to let the writer do the work. Some people write at specific times of day, or they have a specific place they do it. Some people have to pretend nobody will ever see it and don't edit at all. Some people do 87 drafts and wring their brain-hands over single apostrophes. (Freak behavior. Can't relate).*

You'll develop your own way of doing things, and it'll change over time to suit your needs, both external and creative. You'll find your own ways to beat back the shithead little voice that tells you oh, that's too much. Are you sure about that? Wow, bold move. And you'll learn to distinguish it from the genuine subconscious creative voice as it steers you along. But in order to do that, you have to miss a stair once in a while. Crash into the walls. Absolutely eat shit. How else do you learn to avoid that particular step? Go forth and brain yourself on the banister. Have fun out there.

*It is, in fact, freak behavior, and I did this last night.

3. Make what you like. Have fun.

If you haven't called it by now, I am 1000% a pedantic bastard, so it follows that I have a semantic issue with the phrase "write for yourself." It's bandied about so frequently as a kind of indicator of artistic virtue or purity, as though doing something as natural as caring what other people think about work you've posted publicly is some kind of moral failure.

I'm not saying it's wrong. I just refuse to be scolded by a Live, Laugh, Love sign.

Because while there are some things you might banish to the wastes of your hard drive, in the end, fandom is about community. Making art is a public exercise. I'm sure there are people who write and paint and never show anyone, but let's be real. We're here because we love something, we have something to say, and we want to share it with other people. Reaching across the pulses of cyberspace to say, "I, too, would like to see this man get railed this way in particular." The real art is the friends you made along the way, etc.

So I'm in favor of reworking "write for yourself" into something more cognizant of the dynamics at work. For myself, I use the Marie Kondo test (notwithstanding the mistranslation and overuse of this phrase, too): does this spark joy?

Do you get excited when thinking about the project? When you think about upcoming scenes or beats, do they still inspire delight? Even when you're stuck, do you still feel like it's worth working through those things to get to the parts of the story you like?

And this is where the "for yourself" comes in, because I think it's easy to get wrapped up in mandates here. But I have to finish! (Why.) People will be upset if I don't! (Sounds like a them problem). (People love to talk about how fandom is just for fun <3 and then talk shit about abandoned works. Bullshit. Of course, as a reader, you can feel disappointed. But part of being a person is learning to handle your disappointment with grace, so try that before yelling at authors, who are already porcupines of anxiety).

I think the most difficult one to let go of is when people like your story a lot. You're getting a lot of good comments, and in what can be jaggedly lonely world, you feel liked, seen, and appreciated. It's tempting to keep at it, to try keep hitting the dopamine button, even when the writing itself starts to feel shitty and no longer sparks joy.

But returning to taste for a moment: as a reader, can't you tell when the writer is having fun/losing their mind? When they want to be there, doesn't their clear enthusiasm and love for the story shine through, bright enough to reach you, warm you?

Have faith. There will be other stories. You'll have other good ideas. Give it time, work on other stuff and/or replenish your creative well. Maybe you'll rediscover your love for the story, or look back at the draft in a couple months and realize it isn't so bad after all. Part of why I have such a backlog of unpublished work is because sometimes the story, like bread, needs time to prove. And maybe you won't, and that's fine, too. If your readers are reasonable people, they will understand, encourage you to take care of yourself, and patiently await the next one.

If they're not, feel free to send them to me.

[couldbebetterforsure]

Guess who went and FINALLY made herself a JP Apple account so she could download JP mobile games? This girl!!!

You know for the longest time I never did it even though I really wanted to to play certain games because I was always under the impression it was a lot harder than it sounded? And for some reason I thought you had to like buy something or that it would corrupt your data. But....I literally just followed this wikihow article and BAM! I got one!

So of course I went and downloaded Idolish7, Enstars Basic, and JP Enstars Music 😊

I'm so happy to finally have my own account for Idolish7! As I've said before, I've been part of the fandom since like early to mid 2015. But better late than never to join in on the game, right? Even though my luck is basically garbage for this game 😅 Trigger has been kinder when it comes to coming home to me than anyone else. Riku, my sweet boy, why are you so cruel to me???? I have loved you for so long!!!!

Enstars Basic I got because I wanna check out the older stories too and mainly because this was when the news that Ryuseitai's Climax story from their high school days being fully voiced was announced and I wanted in on that shit!!!! Other than that, I'm not sure how to feel on the gameplay with the DLFS? Maybe I'm just bad at it or something, but it feels tedious and goes on forever at times...But whatever, I'm here for the stories!!! Even though I need to heavily rely on a mix of Google Translate and the kindness of fan translators who already translated the stories, especially the ones from the original game!!! I also have pretty trash luck in this game 😢 Shinobu is the only Ryuseitai boy who returns my love and effort in this one. Thank you, honey, I love you too!

Before I go into JP Enstars Music, let me talk a but about my EN Enstars Music experience! First of all, my beloved Ryuseitai is INCREDIBLY kind to me in this game! Tetora and Midori's FS cards came home to me relatively painlessly! And I keep getting good cards for the rest of my boys too. I just wish Chiaki would be a little more kind and come home more easily!!! Chiaki, sweetie, please...Anyways I tend to save a lot more for this one because I know some nice Chiaki and Midori cards in particular are coming up and I wanna save for them. I had no luck with Kanata's FS Scout so I gave up on that...I know the Ninja Clan scout is almost here and I sooooo wanna try for it but....but....I REALLY wanna save up for those nice Ryuseitai cards....Sigh, oh well....

And onto JP Enstars Music! Possibly my worst luck at play here 😭 Ryuseitai hates me in this game!!! Except Red Hot Summer Chiaki came home to me in one of those special random scout things and I LOVE that card and was planning to save so hard to get it in the EN game. But he came home to me in JP so hey! Thank you Chiaki, for finally returning my love! Also I didn't realize how many little quality of life changes the EN game made. Auto Lives, my beloved!!!! Being able to skip the story even if you haven't read it yet, my beloved!!!!!! I'll absolutely read the story at my own pace, sometimes I just need a few extra dia for a scout! But I love being able to play the songs that are still so far away in the EN game! And I am eternally mad at myself for finally downloading this game....TWO DAYS after Chiaki's FS2 scout ended!!!!!

[mouselobite]

The demons are winning against me. Why am I trying to make a PMV?? Did I not realize my brain cannot comprehend this yet??? No?? ok, we continue-

Exactly!!! The only Clan I have that made it past the 200 moon mark is my very first Clan that exists on the August 10th release download. It got to 1.2k moons. Never did that again lmao- Though, it's so fun to watch Clans struggle and to shove them into character arcs

Warriors neurodivergent brainrot is forever. None of us can escape it. Sorry, you don't like the newer books and the trash writing? No, you can't move on!!! You gotta MAKE IT FOR YOURSELF. Why??? Because it's here. It is immortal. Hnng- I love taking ClanGen ocs and smacking them with my brain to create totally polar things. I have several ClanGen ocs turned into Guardians of Ga'hoole and Wolves of the Beyond ocs which turned into its own universe. I went from pixel cats to owls and wolves to so many other animals. It's so fun

Hey, I'm WikiHow anon from this burning planet and you're not watching Disney Channel

NO I FEEL THIS!!!! i looked at my clangen ocs and went "maybe.... maybe I need to dust off sony vegas after all these years..." like please I dont even remember how it works!!! this is taking me back to my roots!!!

real!!!! like I have some that survived and ended up at like 300 moons but once the character(s) im focused on finish their arc im like "alright!!! new clan time!!!" i have so many clans and lore for them all

AND IT REALLY IS!!! everyone I know who was a warrior cat kid has yet to escape it even if they havent touched a book in years it changes your brain chemistry forever!!! nothing I can do now besides accept that warriors will always be in my brain!!! AND REAL!!!! my clangen ocs either stay clangen or end up as inspo for another random character!!! like please keep existing pixel cats youre so fun!!

[writingssummit]

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬 !

haikyuu as dads!

find the mha version here - bnha as dads !

content: fluff, the boys with children. mentions pregnancy. aged up!

characters: bokuto, daichi, sugawara, lev, and kuroo.

a/n: i’ve been feeling very soft and even though i don’t even really like kids lol, this prompt make me so warm and happy :’) keep in mind that I’m not super far into haikyuu, so i don’t know a lot about the timeskip- sorry !! also a bit messy and unorganized.

so without further ado, here are some soft scenarios and headcanons for each :D

bokuto !

Pleaseeee, we all know he’d be such a good dad!!

You’re tired? Don’t worry, he can watch them while you rest!

Can and WILL play with them for hours.

And of course, he has the energy to keep them preoccupied. This man has more energy than I ever will on 2 cups of coffee with 3 shots of espresso in each.

Mans probably would want a bigger family, but of course as long as you were fine with it.

Thinking maybe 3+. He just wants to have that big family to share with you :’) aww

When you’re pregnant, he’s all over you. Protective to the point of it being a little overwhelming, but he means well.

Pokes your belly a little. Not harshly, but in a loving, gentle way.

“That’s my baby. Right in there.”

Probably cries a little when your baby bump shows.

More so during your first pregnancy, but he still holds that same emotion with the others.

He does NOT know what to do the first time.

“THEY’RE CRYING, Y/N WHAT DO WE DO??”

When the kid/s start getting older, oh lord. He’s such a sucker for them.

Probably gives them ice cream or sneaks candy when you aren’t in the room, even though IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR BED.

I’m sorry, but he cannot and will not be able to help with homework. I’m sorry but it’s true.

If your kid/s have a passion, he’s 100% for it.

Dance? He’ll go to all of the recitals he can make. Volleyball? Even better. Writing? He’ll sit in front of them and have them read it out to him like it’s a bedtime story.

I don’t think he’d be a good cook, so whenever he takes over for dinner, everyone is like “Oh no. Dad’s cooking again.”

Overall, 100/10 dad. Supportive, and does his best. Good boyo <3

daichi !

I think he’d be a good dad too :D

He was kind of just a natural father, so it’s expected.

I think that he originally wanted to bring up the topic of kids to you at some point, but he was hesitant since he didn’t know if you were ready.

So of course, you beat him to the conversation.

He’s very happy that you want to start a family too. :)

I think he’d want a smaller family, maybe 1-2 kids.

When you test positive, he’s kind of in shock for a moment.

“We’re going to have a kid-”

Like duh lmao he put it in you

Definitely calls Suga up to tell him the news.

Is actually very interested in shopping for a baby. He needs a few pointers but he’s got the enthusiasm, so A for effort bby

He’s decently used to having a small child running around him screaming, he had little siblings so yeah

Has a bit more structure than bokuto, but he’s still able to break.

He’d do damn near anything for his kid/s.

He has his moments where he wants to spend alone time with just you.

Decent homework helper, but I feel like he’d be that one parent who goes “This wasn’t how I was taught to do this”, or “Why did they change that??”

Again again, supportive dad.

But also supportive of you <3

sugawara !

Being a teacher, he’s surrounded by kids all the time.

Basically, he is also used to having screaming children within his vicinity

I could never omg how do you do that Suga

At first he didn’t put much thought into a family, he and you were content just the two of you. Also. CHILDREN HE TEACHES.

But something just switches in his brain, probably after he had a really wholesome moment with a student, or maybe even just witnessing a parent + student interaction.

He’s like, “I kind of want that..”

Another small fam kinda guy <3

Suga brings it up, and you’re all for it, you’ve been wanting to start a family with him.

He’s so excited and happy!! oml :’)

Like, he finally gets to start a whole new chapter of your lives together he hadn’t really thought about until now.

When you get a baby bump, he plants soft kisses to your tummy and talks gently to it.

My heart ksjshd

This will be a nightly occurrence now.

He is reading all those articles for raising kids. He’s also at your beck and call, even the baby’s.

He just wants everything for the baby, they end up being a huge daddy’s kid.

Late nights after the kid/s go to bed is prime time for you both.

You enjoy being together after a long day, you snuggle up together in your bed, maybe drink some wine later.

PLEASE. Breakfasts in bed. He and the kid/s will TOTALLY MAKE YOU B in B.

So proud of your kid/s. Has pictures in frames on his desk at school, and when his students ask, he has plenty of stories to tell.

Knows when something is off. Like, he can just tell-

Kid is sad? He’s there. Tissues, ice cream, take them out somewhere.

Probably a teaser.

You already know he gets himself and that kid/those kids into mischief.

“Shhh, don’t tell mom!”

He has deep conversations with them. He cares a lot.

He just loves them <3

10/10

kuroo !

it’ssss kuroo time babyyy

He definitely wanted kids. Strikes me as the guy who just knew, as soon as you got married.

When that test came up positive, he had a dorky smirk on his face.

He’s very proud to know you will have his kid.

This dude is always checking up on you. Morning sickness? He’s there to hold your hair back. 

Feeling clingy or upset? Wraps his arms around you.

Lazy pats on your stomach when it’s late.

Why does he seem like he’d play mozart around you because he read somewhere that fetsuses liked that

Sir please we don’t need to listen to Alla Turca (Allegretto) for 12 hours straight

He’s 100000/10 homework helper. Mans is smart af, it’s not even surprising.

“I forgot how smart you were” 

“Shut up”

You both are probably so mushy with each other that your kid/s are like “Ew gross”

He encourages and pushes them to do their best. 

Helps them find what they’re passionate about. <3

Dad jokes. I’m serious.

“Please stop, dad!”

“One more, one more-”

Enjoys making them suffer with terrible jokes.

In a nice way of course.

lev !

saved the funny one for last!

Okay maybe not super funny, but I had fun writing this

He and you did NOT plan to get pregnant. At ALL.

“Lev the test is positive”

“Wh-WHAT?”

Promptly falls off of chair.

Like this dude was not ready for that information

Tbh he would make even me anxious about it

“..do I have to give them the talk?”

Lev please it hurts me

As soon as he gets used to it though, he’s excited like he usually is. 

But this is different. This is a whole HUMAN. 

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad, Y/N?”

“Do you want me to be honest?”

Jkjk that was a joke.

I think Lev has the potential to be a good dad. He’s energetic, passionate and dumb, but in a good way <3

Sorry again, no homework help with him LMAO

Your kid will probably be tall. Or at least average height.

After the original surprise pregnancy, he wants to try again but when you both are actually ready.

He would totally take these kids out everywhere. A show off dad for sure

“Hey, did you know my kid did xyz?” 

“Look, here’s a picture!”

Lev we get it you love your kids 

He would love to have a volleyball loving kid I feel like, but he wouldn’t be too disappointed if they didn’t like it. Would probably propose other sports though, he always loved playing himself, even if it was only volleyball so he wants them to have the same good experiences

If he’s watching the kids while you’re shopping, he doesn’t really know how the first few times- even though you left him A LIST.

Probably then calls his friends up for advice

If it comes down to it...consults WikiHow

and that’s it!! hope you enjoyed, some were harder to write but yk what- i had fun :D as much as i am suga brainrot i literally had a hard time writing his section :’( 

but anyways yuh B)

asks/requests are open ! check yay’s and nay’s in basics for this blog !

[heximagines]

“You should’ve told me sooner” with RZ Mikey? I know you said you liked writing fluff with him and I love how you portray him, go nuts and have fun! And if you’re in the mood for NSFW both would be awesome, but if you’re not down for it that’s perfectly fine!! Have a good day 😊

The fluff is a little more subtle in this I think but I hope you enjoy. Thanks for the request. <3

__

Something was off, you knew it, you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Your narrowed eyes scanned your boyfriend as he sat beside you on the couch. Sure Michael wasn’t much to move around once he was comfy but he hadn’t even gotten up to grab anything to eat since he got home which was extremely unusual. He just walked in and took a seat. Michael’s eyes shifted behind his mask to glance over at you. When he saw you were staring he quickly moved them back to the TV, yet another clue  something was off. Michael didn’t seize the opportunity for a staring contest? And he’s actually watching the dumb reality show you put on while he was gone? Usually he would have changed the channel on you as soon as he was in the door. Finally you sat up from your relaxed position and moved to crawl across to his side of the couch to get a closer look at him. “What’s up with you?” One of your fingers came up to poke and prod him in the chest. He lifted his hand, his left hand, and smacked yours away from him. Your eyes flew to Michael’s right hand and he knew he’d slipped up. He wasn’t sure when you’d grown to know him so well and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Right now Michael just decided it was annoying. You reached out to Michael’s other hand and he shifted his fingers, hoping to convince you he was fine. You looked up at him with a small crease between your brows, then rested your hand over his. Finally Michael did the only thing he could think to do and shoved you off the couch. You let out a surprised yelp as you landed on your back and your head banged off the edge of the coffee table. “What the fuck Michael!?” He stood abruptly and lumbered past you towards the kitchen. You glared as he went but finally something caught your attention. Michael’s right shoulder was hanging a little lower than his left.

Bingo.

You scrambled to your feet and chased after him. When you got there his mask was now sitting on the counter and he was finally tearing into the fridge, still favoring his non-dominant side. You stood in the doorway with your arms crossed. “Michael Audrey Myers.” He whirled around at the use of his full name, scowling. “Don’t look at me like that. You should’ve told me sooner.” He was busted, you were too observant. Michael always knew he’d find that irritating someday. He took a leftover chicken breast from yesterday into his bare hand and started eating it before turning his back to you and walking back in the direction of the couch. You were hot on his heels. You snatched your phone off the coffee table and opened up your search engine. You knew what you had to do but you weren’t sure how. After scanning through a WikiHow article you locked your phone and tossed it on the couch just beside Michael before cracking your knuckles. “Okay, let’s do this. Lay on your back and stick your arm straight out to the side.” Your boyfriend only rubbed his greasy hand on the arm of your couch. “If we don’t fix this it’s only going to get worse. Now c’mon, stop being stubborn.” No response. “Oh so you want to do this the hard way huh?” Now Michael only tilted his head, a sign of amusement. The hard way huh? He’d like to see you try. “Fine...” You moved to sit in Michael’s lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You grabbed him by the jaw and tilted his head further. Leaning in you let your lips trail up Michael’s neck, nipping and kissing. Oh, right, the hard way huh? A large hand came to rest on your ass, squeezing, before Michael picked you up with one arm and carried you off up the stairs. Just as you’d planned.

You were dropped carelessly onto the bed. Michael roughly grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled it up and over your head. You complied easily, lifting your arms to make it easier before stripping off your pants for him. You were definitely not in the mood to lose anymore clothes this week. He placed his palm flat in the center of your bare chest and pushed you down. Once again you followed the silent order. When he was sure you wouldn’t move he let his hand slither up to your neck. His thumb traced over the swell of your throat, feeling the delicate skin before squeezing. Your lips parted as your last uninhibited breath left you. You could hear it in the back of his throat, the low rumbling growl that let you know Michael was pleased with you. It sent an involuntary shiver down your spine and made you spread your legs. You might be able to read Michael like a book but he knew exactly how to push your buttons. His right arm twitched and Michael grunted in annoyance when he realized he couldn’t move it how he wanted. You stretched your arm out and ran your hand gently over Michael’s injured shoulder. “I can fix i-,” your sentence was cut short when Michael pushed down harder on your throat completely cutting off your airway. Your hand retreats to come grip his wrist, trying to get him to ease up. But you know there’s no point. He holds you like that until tiny black splotches begin to dance across your eyes, then he lets you go. As you desperately suck in air Michael seized the opportunity to unzip his coveralls and push them down his body. Without the layer you could see an indent in Michael’s shoulder that confirmed exactly what you already knew. His shoulder was dislocated. With your breathing still heavy you reached back out to run your hands over the planes of your boyfriend’s abdomen, starting at his chest and moving down to where his hips dipped. Roughly Michael grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand under the belt line of his pants. You gladly squeezed his length, running your thumb teasingly up and down the underside before pushing the coveralls farther down his hips. Rolling onto your stomach you gave him a few languid strokes before pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. You stare up at Michael through your eyelashes as his hand meets the back of your head. Before he can urge you forward you part your lips and take him into your mouth with a moan. His fingers tighten in your hair and he gives you barely a second before he’s thrusting in and out of your throat. Michael stared down with you and if you didn’t know him well you’d think he was completely unaffected. But the crease in his brow and tenseness in his jaw gave away just how much he was enjoying this. You let him do as he wishes and try your best to relax your jaw and keep the tears that are already stinging your eyes at bay. You move your tongue move along his cock as Michael uses your throat, adding to his pleasure.

For a brief moment he pulls out of your mouth and you think he’s ready to move on but instead he uses his good arm to flip you onto your back again, now with your head hanging off the edge. He hooks his thumb into your mouth and pulls it open again. He thrusts back in with a grunt. His hand finding it’s way back to your throat and squeezing it, making you tighten around his shaft and gag. Spit leaked from the corners of your mouth and streaked down your cheeks and into your hair. One hand braced itself against Michael’s taught thigh and the other gathered some of the wetness from your cheek before finding your entrance. You let your fingers rub and tease over the sensitive area before slowly pushing inside. You moan around Michael and the muscles in his thighs tense. He groans quietly and finally pulls out of your mouth. Michael lifts you by your throat, making you sit up before letting go. You’re only allowed a moment catch your breath and rub your tender neck before You’re pushed down by the center of your back so your chest is pressed against your bed, knees bent beneath you. Michael roughly pushed his cock into your slick cavity, making you moan out and clench around him. His pace is just as punishing as always, rocking your body and eliciting obscene sounds from your lips, but you can feel a slight hesitance that isn’t normally there. However, pain has never stopped Michael. He was singleminded in what he wanted and right now he wanted nothing more than to fill you with his cum. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head away from the mattress so he could better hear every little sound he made spill out of you. His eyes closed and his head lolled back  as he took in each one, letting it motivate him. Once he was sure you’d keep your head up on your own his hand shoved itself under you, stroking where you needed the attention most. Your thighs shuddered and shook under the treatment. You could feel yourself growing closer and closer to your end and you knew Michael was too as his thrusts only became more desperate. Finally you came with a loud sob of pleasure, spasming around him. It only took a few more thrusts before Michael came inside you. Small aftershocks coursed through your body as you slumped back down onto the bed with a groan. But you knew better, Michael wasn’t done with you yet. He flipped you over onto your back and grabbed your ankle, spreading your legs for himself.

You had lost track of how many rounds you were on but it seemed like your boyfriend was finally satiated. That or his shoulder simply hurt too much to continue. You couldn’t quite tell. But you were sweaty and tired and your body ached all over so you wouldn’t complain. Your heavy arms and tired eyes urged you to stay in bed but there was still one matter you have to take care of. You sat up in his arms and pressed a chaste kiss to Michael’s cheek. “I’m going to go get a shower okay?” He only nodded before releasing you from his hold. You stood on shaky legs and glanced over at Michael to confirm that he was just as you wanted him. His good arm had curled in to rest over his stomach but his injured one was stretched out in what was probably the most comfortable position for him. You gingerly made your way over to the other side of the bed, stopping to fiddle with the light on the nightstand. Michael’s eyes were closed and you had only a moment to do what you had to. With speed you didn’t know you were capable of you grabbed Michael's arm and pulled on it steadily until you heard the telltale click that let you know his shoulder was back in place. Michael’s arm lashed out and he grabbed you by your already bruising neck, glaring up at you. You grin shyly and put your hands up. “Feel better?” you manage to wheeze. And he must have because slowly Michael released you and with one last pointed look he rolled over onto his side so his back was to you. You leaned in and placed another kiss on his shoulder. “I love you Michael. I’ll bring you up some ice and food after my shower.”      

[cynicaljapanophile]

agent washington as a s/o headcanons

screen love - trifect • sweet boi - chevy • paris in the rain - lauv • sunkissed - khai dreams • fool - cavetown • your text - sundial 

hostility is the first thing that came to mind when describing the relationship between you and wash when you first met 

wash wasn’t exactly the most friendly person when you first met each other

you didn’t hit it off immediately or were on the best of terms when you first met but it was something you could always use to tease him about 

even after the two of you made up nothing more than platonic interactions happened 

every once in a while you’d make a joke here and there but that was usually as far as anything would go

it wasn’t until you were forced to interact with each other as one of the few people around after getting stuck in a random canyon after crashing on chorus

although you have to admit the experience was a bit… jarring to say the very least

while you don’t stop antagonizing him completely, you start to slow down after a conversation that the two of you have one night 

it’s not a particularly interesting conversation

at most, it probably lasts thirty minutes and you don’t really learn anything of real value 

even so, a conversation with someone late into the night gives you a bit of clarity on a person even if it was on somebody you wanted to avoid as much as possible

there’s not a specific moment when your relationship passed the line of friendship to romance

it was simply a progression that happened over time before either of you realized what had actually happened 

but if we’re being specific on when either of you realized the change in the relationship that you had, the first person who realized that change was washington

it’s a bit awkward, to say the least

you don’t really notice it though, wash’s personality wasn’t really all that different before he realized it after all

he doesn’t really vibe with the whole pda thing (and you don’t really care either way to be completely honest) 

because of this when the two of you are alone he’s a simp really soft

it gives you some serious whiplash sometimes

he unironically uses cheesy pickup lines on you 

wash: “i’m no photographer, but i can picture us together.”

y/n: “aw.” (sweetie… please no…)

corny 

the personification of a “how to be a good boyfriend” article (source: wikihow)

doesn’t really understand what you mean when you ramble about your “couple aesthetic” but he’s supportive

it doesn’t change the fact that he bought sky fall blue paint instead of bluebell blue paint but still, he’s trying

supports everything that you do 

wash literally has no interest in ghosts whatsoever but because of you he has now a complete history of every single haunting that have taken place in texas

neither of you says you’re together directly 

one day you just have a conversation and it just comes out 

y/n: “aw, babe, you had a crush on me? that’s embarrassing.”

wash: “we’re married.”

y/n: “still…”

everybody is just like ??? when did y’all get married ???

he’s just very proud 

the reason you don’t try to bring up your relationship with wash is that when you do he’ll never shut up about it 

it’s not even on purpose and he never realizes when he’s doing it

washington is just a very happy man

he loves you so much and it makes him very soft

[kiras-sunshine]

tarlos valentine 2021 day 1 prompt: “babe please sharing is caring” + blanket hogging

words: 5111

summary:

“Are you seriously reading a WikiHow article about how to stop hogging the covers?”

"Yes"

read on ao3

or

”This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” TK declares as he takes yet another forkful of the chocolate cake that Carlos has baked for his birthday.

He cannot remember when someone would have baked an actual cake for his birthday. They celebrate everyone’s birthday at the firehouse, but usually those are bought from the supermarket and they taste and look exactly like they cost less than five dollars.

His dad has threatened to bake something every year, but after the year when he served the dairy, butter and sugar free cake, TK had banned him from birthday related baking.

“Seriously,” he continues, gesturing towards the almost empty plate with his fork, “this cake made me fall more in love with you and I didn’t know that was possible.”

Carlos shakes his head, clearly in amusement, as he bites down his smile. He looks delighted and pleased.  “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like is an understatement,” he remarks and reaches over the narrow kitchen island to press a quick kiss on his lips.

The cake tastes amazing, rich and sweet, and the texture is fluffy, but firm. It looked gorgeous too, as if it were straight rout of the high-end confectioneries of Manhattan. He had asked where he had bought it before Carlos admitted, rather timidly, that he had baked it from the scratch.

TK hadn’t been expecting anything other than the supermarket cake, and honestly, he thought his birthday would be just grouped together with the firehouse annual Christmas party. Being born in December usually meant that it got joined with Christmas celebrations and it didn’t get to be a separate thing. TK is fine with it. It bothered him more when he was a child, but now he doesn’t mind that much.

Hoping that one day would be about him feels like a dumb, childish and selfish wish.  

Carlos had been uncharacteristically quiet about the upcoming birthday or any plans related to it, and TK had been almost convinced that he had forgotten the whole thing. It would have been fine if it were the case, but obviously, he hadn’t forgotten. Instead, he had gone all out.

TK knows he should have suspected something when Marjan had asked all slyly if he had any plans for his birthday when they all had been gathered around the firehouse dining table to eat the pathetic looking supermarket cake.

He had said no, and everyone had smiled like they knew something he didn’t, but he had brushed it off.

TK reaches scoop a forkful of the cake from Carlos’ plate, because his is almost empty, and he grins at him brightly. “Babe please, sharing is caring,” he chuckles.

Carlos rolls his eyes, but the fondness is too visible to make him seem even a tiny bit annoyed.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbles. There is no heat behind his words, and he pushes the plate closer to TK.

It’s obviously meant to be a joke and his voice is light, but still TK is aware that it is the closest thing to the truth anyway. He feels lucky, incredibly so.

Carlos is a kind, caring and loving person in general and it is evident in the way he does his job and the way he treats people around him, and TK is fully aware that he would be lucky to get just a fraction of the love Carlos has to give, but the fact that he has decided that TK is worth of all of it makes it a whole another thing.

Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Privilege, maybe.

He has started to notice lately that the English language doesn’t have nearly enough words to describe what he is feeling for him. But that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I know,” TK eventually replies, several beats too late it to be counted as banter anymore and the fondness in Carlos’ eyes just grows.

He does steal another forkful of his piece of cake and lets his gaze wonder around the small cabin.

Instead of forgetting his birthday, Carlos had rented a cabin for three days. It is a couple hours away from Austin, located near camping-area, and while the cabin is small, it is still objectively really nice and fancy for a log cabin.

He looks at the dark brown wooden walls and the shiny marble kitchen island. He tries his best not to think how much money he has spent on his surprise.

Carlos had also coordinated it so that they both have the three days off around his birthday, and he had listed his whole crew’s, and his dad’s help, to do it, several months in advance. TK guesses there are certain perks that his boyfriend gets along with his family like a house on fire.

Carlos yawns. He blinks a couple of times, before focusing his gaze back to him. He smiles and it is warm and genuine one, but TK can see the redness of his eyes and the dark circles below them. He looks exhausted, even though he is trying to hide it.

“You should go to sleep,” TK points out, softly, as he places the fork on his own plate.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

In his opinion, it is a small wonder Carlos hasn’t collapsed already. He had pulled an fourteen-hour shift with some over time on top of it. After that he had still driven them up to the cottage and cooked him a huge dinner. It’s a bit unclear to him where he found the time to bake the cake, but the point is, he knows that he is tired.

He would know it without having all the details. They have been together for year and a half, and TK likes to think that he can read him. Understand all the little cues from his facial expressions and behavior. At the moment, everything he picks on screams that he is fatigued.

“You look like you could pass out from exhaustion,” he remarks.

“It’s your birthday,” Carlos argues, a little flatly, but he is poorly attempting to repress yet another yawn.

“I’m aware,” he says, amusedly, as walks around the kitchen island and reaches to take his hand into his own. He presses a soft kiss on his knuckles. “All of this is really nice, and I love it, but it also pains me to see you so tired.”

He blinks slowly, but his smile is lopsided, but still full of adoration. “I wanted to do something special for you.”

TK remembers faintly that he had told him on his last birthday that his birthday rarely was a priority, always getting entangled to the preparations of the holiday season, and he had certainly not meant anything with it. But Carlos, being a strong contender for the title of most considerate person in the world, had hung on his words and decided to indulge him on his silly wish of having a proper birthday.

TK had snorted when they had picked up the keys of the cabin and the receptionist had frowned when she clarified that there would be no Christmas decorations, per request, but Carlos had just grinned at him.

“And it is,” he reassures, squeezing his hand slightly.

It makes his stomach flip as he thinks how much effort he has put into the whole thing, just so that he would feel loved and cared for.

“Maybe,” Carlos admits softly, “but going to sleep before eight wasn’t really part of the plan.”

Carlos lets go of his hand, but places both of his hands on his waist and pulls him closer. TK has no objections against that, and he loves the feeling of their bodies being pressed together. He loves the closeness of it, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be so up in each other’s personal space.

“Yeah, just one of the many perks of dating a first responder,” he deadpans, resting his other hand on his bicep.

Carlos huffs amusedly. “Because there are so many of them.”

“Our never matching schedules,” he offers. He lets his other hand run along his spine and settles it to hold the small of his back.

“Monthly hospital visits.”

TK glares at him. “They aren’t monthly.”

“Bi-monthly,” Carlos corrects himself with a shit-eating grin and it makes his nose scrunch, and it is one of the most adorable things TK has ever witnessed.

“Constant fear and worry,” he adds.

He knows he should be almost used to it. Since early childhood, he has had to learn to live with the fact that one day his dad might not make it to home, and now almost everyone he loves and considers family risks their lives on daily basis to help others.

He should be used to it, but the truth is that he isn’t. The fear and worry still sometimes knock him off his feet and take over every part of his body, but he can cope with it. Most of the time. Although, he loathes the fact that his standards for a good day have been lowered to the simple rule of if they both make it home in one piece, it’s a good day.

Carlos nods and presses a soft kiss on his forehead. He doesn’t immediately pull away. “The way you smell like smoke,” he murmurs against his skin.

TK lets out a surprised laugh and the ghost of his kiss still lingers right above his eyebrows when he pulls away. “I could always shower again.”

He has gotten into the habit of showering at the firehouse when the shift ends, because Carlos does have a point about the smell hazards. Most of the time he reeks after the shift and he had rinsed his skin today too, and the shift hadn’t been terrible. Only one fire at the 24-hour diner when their deep fryer had caught on fire, but that was hours ago.

“You’ve smelled like it since the day we met,” he points out, “I’m not sure a shower is going to help.”

“Hey,” TK protests, but he doesn’t bother to hide his grin.

“I wouldn’t change any of it for anything,” he says under his breath, “apart from fearing for your life.”

Over the couple of years, he has known Carlos, he has noticed that certain things happen when he gets thoroughly exhausted. His accent becomes thicker and he becomes sappier than usually and he starts to lack a certain filter. It’s mostly just amusing and endearing, and he loves that side of Carlos just as much as any other, but he also wants to take care of him.

It makes a certain kind of knot of uneasiness to form in his stomach knowing that he is burning the candle from both ends for him.

“I know, me neither,” TK reassures, softly, but pushes him a little backwards, “but seriously, you should go to bed. And you don’t even have to go alone.”

He is also a little weary after the shift. His muscles are achy, and he wouldn’t mind sleeping around the clock. And as always, seeing Carlos yawn, makes him sleepy, too.

“Your pickup lines are terrible,” he retorts, but takes a couple steps backwards towards the bedroom.

TK snorts. “They worked well enough on you.”

He still keeps walking backwards, his left shoulder only slightly bumping against the doorframe as he enters the bedroom. “They didn’t. I didn’t need pick-up lines, it was that damn smile.”

He ought to add getting complimented by him to the list of things he should be already gotten used to, because Carlos does it a lot. It’s a casual comment here and there, and it definitely isn’t always about his looks, but still no matter how many times he hears them, they always make his stomach twist in a best way possible.

Even now, the bubbling feeling of happiness settles into his chest and his lips are curling into a smile, and he knows it’s giving away everything he is currently feeling. The happiness and adoration mixing into together and spilling out as a soft and bright smile.

“That’s the one,” Carlos whispers, contently and almost in awe, and few seconds later his fist is full of the soft fabric of TK’s grey sweatshirt and he is pulling him close again.

“Yeah,” TK finds himself saying, but he cannot tear his gaze away from his lips and judging by the glint in his brown eyes, he has noticed it too, despite the sleep deprivation.

Sometimes, most of the time really, it is like electricity humming underneath his skin when Carlos looks at him. It feels like it now, too, and while they established very early into their acquittance that they are into each other. It was painfully obvious from the way they glanced each other while dancing and from the way they ended up hooking up within an hour.

Still, TK cannot help but marvel the that the feeling of sparks and electricity is still there, but it is still different. All the rush and fumbling are gone because there is more certainness now, of that the other is not going to disappear and that any of the lingering touches would be the last ones.

Now, every moment is like a small declaration of love.

He tugs the hem of Carlos’ shirt and gently yanks it upwards and helps him to undress it and Carlos helps him to get rid of his sweatshirt and tosses it somewhere on the floor. Suddenly, his lips are on his again, and the kiss is soft, but it still makes TK’s heart beat faster and toes curl up with want.

He runs his hands along his arms and squeezes his left forearm slightly. “Mmh, not when you’re that tired,” TK mumbles against his lips.

He knows where it is heading unless he breaks it off, and while he wants to, it still defeats the whole purpose of his grand plan of Carlos getting enough sleep.

Carlos immediately takes a step back, like he always does when he lets him know he is not up for something, and his smile is mischievous, but still a little flustered. “I’d not fall asleep on you,” he adds, as he takes off his sweatpants, but this time he folds them neatly and picks up their shirts from the floor.

“You have,” TK points out, kindly, as he gets rid of his own pants, “and you probably would now, too.”

Since their schedules don’t always match, they tend to take up any opportunity that arises, but a couple of times, after double digit shifts, Carlos has fallen asleep before they have even properly started, and it’s no big deal. TK knows he has fallen asleep on him too.

He mostly finds it endearing, but it also means to him that Carlos trusts him enough and is comfortable enough to fall asleep without a second thought to it.

Carlos just hums amusedly as a response and gets into the way too huge bed.

The bedroom is tiny, and the bed takes a ridiculously big part of it, but he is surprised to find it to be incredibly soft and comfortable. Still, as TK sits on the bed, he pushes his pillow closer to his because he is not sleeping twenty inches away from him.

He settles down, lying right next to him and Carlos immediately drapes one arm over him, resting it on his chest and nuzzling his shoulder. TK’s hand fumbles a little until it finds Carlos’s other hand and curls his fingers around his.

“I’m--,” Carlos starts, quietly, but TK cuts him immediately off.

“Don’t you dare apologize again,” he says, softly. “This is all I ever wanted and it’s perfect.”

He runs his fingers along his forearm. He hopes that he knows that he doesn’t mean the cabin or any of it, but just that he gets to spend his birthday with him.

Twenty-year-old TK would have laughed if someone would have told him that his best birthday would be in rural Texas, but there he is, more content than ever.

“How did you know what I was going to say?”

He glances at him. “I can hear you think.”

Carlos exhales softly and TK can feel his breath against his bicep. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve all of it and more.”

It has been a long process to learn that he deserves nice things and to be loved, because of everything and despite of everything. He has Carlos to remind him about it occasionally, but still he cannot help but wonder what he has done to end up with more love than he could have imagined a couple of years ago.

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss on his temple. “Why this place?”

TK has wondered about it since the moment they arrived. He has never heard about the place before and albeit, his knowledge of anything about Texas outside of Austin is a little wobbly, but the whole place seems to be quiet and has a little hole-in-the-wall feeling to it, like you would have to know about its existence to find it.

“It’s a dumb story,” he murmurs against his shoulders.

“I wanna hear all of your dumb stories.”

Carlos shifts a little. “We came here with my family when I was maybe thirteen,” he starts, slowly and absentmindedly tracing some sort of pattern against his ribs. “I loved this place, and we had great time, but it still filled me with dread ‘cause the place was full of happy couples and families, and I was pretty convinced at that age that I couldn’t ever have any of that on my own.”

His heart breaks a little as he listens to him. He meant his words that he wants to hear all of his stories, dumb or not, but now he regrets a little of ever asking because he knows that his coming out process hasn’t always been the smoothest and deep south hasn’t been the most forgiving place for him to live and grow up.

“But,” Carlos continues, “I had this dream that one day I’d bring here someone I’d love.”

TK breath almost hitches in his throat. It’s almost too much, but in the best way possible. To know that he has had that idea in his head for years and that he decided that he would be worthy of being a part of that. It makes his heart soar.

“I did try to warn you it was dumb,” he mumbles, taking his silence in the wrong way.

“It’s not dumb,” he rushes to say, “it’s actually really sweet.”

It’s not the most eloquent response, but it’s too difficult to pinpoint anything he is currently feeling or to put them into comprehensible words that would reflect any of the love he has for him.

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one I’ve brought here, so there is that too,” he adds, his gaze focused on his jawline, but he looks up to his eyes too, with the softest of smiles.

He is convinced his heart is going to burst. “Thank you for sharing it with me,” he whispers, right below his ear, “and for including me in it.”

They lay there for a moment, in silence, only listening the steady breathing of each other’s, but eventually TK sits up to reach the corner of the duvet and tries to settle it so that it covers both of their bodies.

“Are you going to hog all the blankets again?”

Carlos has closed his eyes already, but his voice is light and teasing.

“I don’t hog ‘em.”

He sputters out a laugh, and it’s warm, happy and genuine, and TK loves to hear that particular laugh.

“Oh, so I’ve been sleeping without one willingly for a year and half,” Carlos asks, quizzically, but it looks like another fit of laughter could erupt from him at any given moment.

“What?”

“You always steal the blankets, even if there are two,” Carlos explains, sounding almost fond as he looks at him.

“I don’t?”

TK hates how it sounds like a question to his own ears, too. He is aware that he moves a lot in his sleep, and his ex-boyfriends have given him so much shit about it, which is also why he tried to avoid staying the night when he started seeing Carlos.

Nothing is more charming than elbowing significant other in their sleep or kicking their shins. Still, Carlos has never said anything about the way he sleeps.

He knows that their bed is a goddamn mess every time they wake up, the blankets are usually disregarded somewhere, and they are not in the same positions as they fell asleep to, but he had no idea that he was the main cause of it.

“Mhm, you do,” Carlos hums, his eyes closing again.

TK shoots perplexed glance at him. “Why haven’t you woken me up?”

He is a little more than appalled that apparently he has been doing it since the beginning of their relationship, but he is only hearing about it now.

Carlos opens one of his eyes, squeezing the other one shut. “Yeah, wonder why I haven’t woken up my boyfriend, who on regular basis pulls twenty-four-hour shifts,” he mumbles, but there is nothing but kindness in his voice.

“You could have,” he argues, flatly.

“I’ve tried to steal them back sometimes,” Carlos admits, his gaze landing back to him, and his eyes are gleaming. “But there’s no point. You just steal ‘em back. I’ve extra blankets, too, but there is no limit to how many blankets you hog in a night.”

Not for the first time around Carlos, TK finds himself to be a little loss for words. This time it is because of completely different reasons, he is a little too stunned and confused to talk.

“The way you clutch to them and collect them is almost adorable,” he adds with a low chuckle.  

“So, every time you have said you sleep better when I’m there with you has been a blatant lie?”

He almost wants to laugh. It’s a bit more than ridiculous that he is only learning about his own nocturnal habits now, and Carlos has told him multiple times that he sleeps more soundly and deeply, that he feels safe, when he is around, and he has always found that a little more than endearing, but now it feels impossible to wrap his head around that it would be anywhere near the truth.

“Nope.”

“You really expect me to believe that the best sleep of your life happens without blankets?”

Carlos blinks, but the look he gives him is soft and laced equally with love and fondness. Still, he gently pokes him in between his ribs. “Am I in the habit of lying to you?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer,” he replies, easily and effortlessly, as if he has accepted the fate of sleeping without any blankets, ever.

TK grunts and picks up his phone from the nightstand and starts typing.

“Are you seriously reading a WikiHow article about how to stop hogging the covers?” Carlos questions, as he peaks the article he started suddenly to browse through.

“Yes.”

He cannot put his finger to what actually bothers him about this small revelation so much. The unnamed feeling in his chest grows and it starts to resemble something similar to guilt, even though some logical part of his brain is telling him that there is no reason to feel that way.

He can admit that it makes him uneasy to know that Carlos has stayed silent about it for so long, especially when it must have affected the way he sleeps, too.

Carlos chuckles, softly. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ty,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Apparently we could sleep separately,” he reads aloud as he scrolls through the surprisingly long article.

“Out of question,” Carlos replies, without missing a beat.

He huffs in some sort of agreement. It’s not the solution he would be eager to try any time soon, but he wants to find something tangible to make the uneasiness in his heart to go away.

“Somehow trap the covers underneath the mattress, smaller bed, bigger blankets--,” he continues to slowly read as he makes through the list, until Carlos gently yanks the phone away from his hand and places it face down on his chest.

“We don’t need to do any of that,” he reminds, “I sleep perfectly fine. You cling like an octopus and you’re like a walking radiator, I don’t need a blanket. And above all, I like sleeping with you.”

It’s a tiny confession, but he sounds sure of it and there is genuine fondness in the way he says it, and he cannot help but believe that he means it.

TK loves the way they sleep. There is so much closeness in it. Their bed is pretty wide, but every time he wakes up, they are close and touching each other, in one way or another. A hand resting on a thigh, fingers against hip, face pressed against shoulder blade, entangled legs and arms.

He is pretty convinced there are no moments when they are not touching when sleeping. He sort of likes that. That they drift towards other, even when they are completely unaware of it. They move in their sleep. Carlos always falls asleep on his side but ends up lying on his back. He moves around a lot more, but the fact that they always wake up pressed together, means that they move together.

When the other moves, the other follows. Invisible string connecting them in their dreams. Like magnets pulling each other in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Carlos continues to fill in the silence, “I knew you’d get stuck in that beautiful mind of yours about it, but I didn’t know it’d bother you this much.”

There is a question hidden, and he knows he is giving him the space not to answer, but he wants to.

TK groans, quietly and softly. He places the phone back on the nightstand and rubs his own face. “It’s just that—you simply decided to put up with it,” he tries to clarify, still trying to make sense of the emotions that keep bumping against each other inside of him, “instead of telling me to do something about it.”

He knows that he cannot control what he does in his sleep, but he would still like to try and make it better.

“I get that, but sayin’ that I’m putting up with it makes it sound too negative,” he says, exhaustion leaking back into his voice just slightly, “and I’d have told you if truly bothered me, but it doesn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He strokes his side, in slow moments, with his thumb. It sends small shivers along his spine. TK glances back at him, but his eyes are closed again. “I love you and I’ll gladly sleep without a blanket for rest of my life, it’s a small price to pay.”

Silence follows, and TK can feel how he tenses up slightly next to him. It’s a small change, but he knows him well enough to spot the difference.

“That’s pretty much wedding vow material already,” TK jokes, planting another kiss on his forehead because he wants him to know it is okay, and that he is not freaking out about any mentions of their shared future, and that he can say stuff like that to him.

That he wants to hear it.

Some of the tension immediately leaves his body when he pulls away from the kiss.

“I know,” he slurs, sleepily. “I should write it down.”

“Height of romance.”

He laughs, even though he manages to make it sound tired too, but it is still a beautiful sound. “Damn right it is.”

“I’m gonna buy a bigger duvet when we get home,” TK declares.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, but I want to.”

It might not help anything, and Carlos does seem pretty content with their current arrangements, but he still needs to do something. To try, at least, even if it is something as small as blanket hogging.

Carlos opens his eyes again, clearly fighting off the sleep. “Promise something.”

He is a little surprised by his words, but he cranes his neck on the pillow so that he can get a better look at his face. “Anything.”

“Don’t start to overthink it, the way you sleep isn’t something you should actively think about. You’ll only lose sleep,” he tells him.

TK knows he has a point. It’s definitely an easy rabbit hole to fall in, and to become too self-conscious about every moment and not being able to relax and just be. Maybe he should take Carlos’ word for it.

“I’ll promise I’ll try my best to get over the fact that I’ve forced you to freeze your ass every night for over a year.”

Carlos’ eyes are shut, but the grin that forms on his lips is bright and brilliant. “We live in Texas, it’s hot and humid most of the time, my ass is fine.”

“It is.”

He laughs again, mostly against his fluffy pillow. “How did we end up having this conversation?”

“About us, the blankets, the future or the future of our blankets?” TK asks, deadpan, just to mess with his sleep deprived brain.

“Any of it?”

“I don’t know, you started it,” he tells him, amusement shining in his soft voice

“I’m too tired,” he half-slurs, but the smile still lingers on his lips.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” TK points out, kindly, and moves his other hand to run through Carlos’ hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.

“You’re right,” he breathes out, and TK can hear the smirk in his voice, “just this once.”

He laughs quietly, trying not to stir him any more than necessary, and he thinks he might have already fallen asleep, and he almost startles when he hears his voice again.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t need any blankets, just need you.”

He would have expected his voice to be light, teasing and joking, but it sounds surprisingly sincere and like it half-accidently escapes away from his exhausted mind, but it sounds still so goddamn sincere that it makes TK’s heart flutter.

“Smooth,” he remarks, quietly, unsure what to do with all the happiness that keeps bubbling inside of him, but the only reply he gets is the quiet and steady breathing.

[bakusoftie]

How about Deku, Katsuki and Todoroki being turned into a cat ( or whatever pet you want ) for a week and their fem s/o taking care of them (like petting,feeding,and playing with them) until they turn back ?

this is so cute omfg

y’all

i fucking love cats

Izuwu, Bakubabe, and Icycutie turning into cats for a week

🥦 izuwu 🥦

apparently some general studies student hated class 1-A so bad that they used their quirk to turn the innocent lil deku into a tiny white munchkin cat with his emerald green eyes and three black spots of fur on his cheeks

he looked so ADORABLE AHHHH

you were walking towards the dorms when you hear the cries of a kitten and looked down at your feet to find the cutest cat you have ever laid eyes on

“Hey there lil buddy!,” you cooed as you picked the ball of fluff up and rested him on your chest.

you thought he reminded you of your crush from the color of his wide green eyes

you couldn’t stop yourself from pecking kisses all over his fluffy face

izuku was sent into a flurry of purrs as he nuzzled his head into your warm chest

he felt kind of bad since you had no idea it was him but he felt so safe and complete being snuggled in your arms and he never wanted to leave

you snook the cute ass fur ball in your room, not before raiding the kitchen for a bowl of milk and leftover pork cutlet bowl that belonged to Denki (it’s okay you left him some money for McNuggets)

you laid the stubborn kitten on your bed but he kept wanting to bury his head in your warmth

“Awww, I’m gonna name you...Deku!,”

the kitten raised his head when he heard that and started licking your hand as if he was giving you little kitty kisses

“You must like that name,huh? It’s because you remind me of him...because you both are so cute!!”

Izuku crawls into your lap and nuzzles his head against your thighs and thinks ‘damn this is the life’

he would never get to do this when he returns to his human form so he for sure will milk the fuck out of this

when your hand comes down to scratch his neck, he swears he has reached heaven as his purring increases and he lets out a little “prrt”

He’s fucking love it

Until he sees you getting undressed...

Then he bulldozes his face into your pillow and let’s out a series of ‘meows’ that kinda sound like his muttering

If you stroke his fur while he eats, he feels like he’s going to combust from joy please don’t stop

6 days later when you’re so used to having this little kitten follow you everywhere and giving you cuddles, you also start to wonder why izuku hasn’t been coming to class lately

until one night when you and Izukitty are cuddling, him being curled into a ball on your boobies

And you feel the fuzzy warmth on your chest start to get heavier

uh

two questions

where did your cat go?

WHY IS IZUKU NAKED AND STRADDLING YOUR WAIST

Izuwu is so flustered and he can’t hardly get a word out except...

“M-Meow?”

💥kitsuki bakukitty💥

ma there's a weird-looking fucking cat outside

seriously...bakugou as a cat is fucking frightening

do not give this fucker CLAWS

well somebody did

and bakugou was fucking pissed

he couldn’t do anything for himself and his quirk wouldn’t even fucking work

not to mention he keeps hacking up disgusting fucking hairballs

it was your turn to take the dorm’s trash out when you see a

sort of cute-looking?

ash-blonde cat with sharp red eyes staring into your soul.

THIS FUCKER POUNCED ON YOUR LEG

CLAWS DIGGING INTO YOUR FLESH

he is literally ‘my cat from hell’

But you thought his aggressive actions just meant he was an abused stray that needed to be nutured

uh bitch

you was w r o n g

you also thought his fur and eyes kinda looked like your crush, Katsuki

so of course,

you named the kitty

katsukitty

he did not wike it

you got so many cat scratches BITCH YOU STARTING TO LOOK LIKE VICTOR ZSASZ

you googled “how to tame an agressive cat” on wikihow and it said to spend time with the cat and play with him so

you took that bitch to your room

and got out a ball of yarn and a laser pointer

“let the chaos begin, katsukitty 😈”

let me just tell you that this bitch’s meows sound like he’s being fucking drowned like

he’s so ugly LMAOASKKS

but the angry little kitten gets used to you and rubs his head your hand as he gets ready to ATTack and nibble the fuck out of your finger

you text kiri to come over and meet your new little friend and

the moment he smells the stench of another male coming up into his territory (aka you)

he fucking asshole

bites a fucking chunk out of kiri’s lightening mcqueen crocs

kiri: gEt yOur fUckinG cAt, BiTch

you: he don’t bite 🙂

kiri: yES hE dO

im so sorry kiri but

those crocs were ugly anyway

katsukitty did you a favor

bakugou is such an asshole cat like he literally jumped up on your dresser for the sole purpose of knocking your limited edition Best Jeanist Funko POP to the floor

yOu shiTTy BitcH

you had to get a spray bottle full of water after he scratched up the All Might t-shirt that Izuku bought you for your birthday

jealous heaDASS

he won’t let anyone inside your room

I mean you saw what he did to kiri’s crocs

So when mineta thought he would be slick and sniff your panties while you were in the shower

Katsukitty didn’t even have to touch the fucker

he just growled and mineta shit his pants

he protecc

he attacc

but most importantly

he a snacc

speaking of snacks,,,

if you try to feed him that gross ass canned cat food

he will fuck your ass up

don’t even think about it

although...he was considering it 😳

but no

once you accidentally dropped some sriracha on the floor and his ass lapped that shit up

you swore to god that isn’t healthy for cats to eat but

you still gave him a whole bowl full

because he made him happy

and you could finally pet him while he ate without getting slice and diced

that’s how most your days were like until the end of the week when you were coming to your room after making Katsukitty a tiny version of Bakugou’s costume

but what you were met with was a naked Bakugou (with only a ball of yard to cover his privates) on your bed

“I’m going to get you back for calling me fucking ‘Katsukitty’ for a week,dumbass”

💙 IcyCutie ❤️

oh this defenseless baby

he has no clue how this happened to him but the moment he sees you, he has the urge to rub his head against your leg?

and he does

you look down when you feel something soft and furry brushing against your ankle

it’s this cute ass slender white cat with an orange spot that covers his left eye and head. His eyes are two different colors and you think he is the cutest thing to ever grace this earth

He’s literally many the ‘🥺’ face and

Your uwus have been

s n a t c h e d

Todorokitty wishes he could communicate with you somehow and tell you that it’s him but then you’re putting him up and holding him tightly against your breasts and

😳 big boobs? small boobs? no boobs? he do not care

his brain just goes: tiddy

honestly you could do whatever you want with him and he wouldn’t care

he’s kinda one of those cats that just want to sleep

he’s such an lazy cat like

just hold him and lay with him please

even as a cat, he is just so touchstarved

the only moment he shows any feral activity is when you brought some Zaria soba for yourself and nasty ass fish for him

this bitch yeeted the fish off the plate and when you’ve gone to go clean it up

THIS BITCH PUTS HIS FURRY ASS HEAD INSIDE THE BOWL

bitch almost drowned in that shit

feed him

peasant

he definitely gets used to you taking care of him and being treated like he’s special and loved because he never got that before so there’s times where he just stares at your with wide eyes and paws at your tummy

he gets the best sleep of his life being cushioned by your body

you are his bed now

sometimes he’ll leave the room and come back to leave you “gifts”

oh

oh god

is that a fucking hamster?

😳 oh no

that’s koda’s hamster

“I understand that you were trying to do a good thing but you have committed an atrocity”

just wait until you get this hoe on some catnip 😈

normally he’s such a calm and collected kitty but once you sprinkle some of that good kush

he go ‘aRrrrOowwww’

he’s basically banging his head on the carpet trying to snort this shit the best he can

you and todorokitty have some good times and some bad times

but you do miss actually Todoroki

it makes you sad some nights because you thought he might be avoiding you

when he sees you sad, it reminds him of his mom tbh and he never wants you to feel this way,,especially if he’s literally right in front you

he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and put tiny kitten licks all over your face

👅 aaaulghh

the next day, you walked into your room after a trying day of school and flopped onto your bed where you thought your precious kitten was so you went to pet the little guy

except you were met with flesh

and i oop

😟

“are you naked? ewwwww.”

Shouto had no fucking shame

He just pulled you into his arms like nothing changed

“Shut up and let me love you, kitten”

[kodzusken]

Peter Parker + a dog chasing him while in the spidey suit (you pick which one lol)

*insert iMovie title text*

Peter Parker has always been fond of his dog, Sandwich. Especially since Sandwich had the potential to make a very good sandwich...... nevermind. Hunger could dictate many emotions in Peter, clearly.

Being a dog from the street, there was no doubt Sandwich was homozygous dominant for ugly. He had a great, loving personality, but 🤢. Combined with a certain Dorito stench, beady eyes, and a dumb-looking face, Peter knew all too well he had to locate in his heart the needle of compassion in the haystack for that stupid dog. Yes, that’s right, it was time for Sandwich to get a girlfriend.

You were probably not expecting that. Neither was I- the author. Peter could explain.

It all began the summer of last year, back when Tony Stark had permitted him to work as an intern. (Yes, you may cry.) Coolest job ever, right? Wrong.

He was out fighting crime day and night, missing school, hopping out bus windows while Ned covered for him, simping for Liz, who he ditched.. all that jazz. He got beat up more times than he could count, and even crushed under a building, no sweat. Seeing as there was no trace of his hauntings on Buzzfeed Unsolved, it was clear he was very much alive- just as Ned had predicted, unfortunately. In spite of it, at the end of the day, it was what he was required to do, and he executed. There was overwhelming stress that came along with the job— being a high schooler and all, sure— but if he didn’t look fly on @spideyno1fan’s vlogs, what was the point?

But then, the internship took turn for the worse. Right after he was brought back, Tony died, and he bestowed upon Peter a responsibility that would change his life— official babysitter of his four-year-old daughter, Morgan. This... was magnitudes worse than fighting villains. What do you even do with a girl who has a wild obsession with princesses and an insatiable appetite for cheeseburgers? Not to mention Tony’s right-hand-man, Happy, falling in love with his aunt.

That was fine.

All of this, and not even a single paycheck. Peter had had enough.

After thirteen hours of ignoring MJ’s trail of thirst texts and scrolling through his celebrity twin, Tom Holland’s, social medias, Peter came across Tessa. She was a true source of inspiration for what Peter was about to do. Tessa was a cute, stocky dog, and meanwhile, Sandwich was not. But Peter noticed the attention Tessa got. Everyone loved her— some to a point where they weren’t afraid to show their [true colors] in the comment sections... but Peter tried not to think about that.

It was late August, excruciatingly hot, and Peter’s only comfort was a panting mutt at his side and May’s two-decade-old electric fan. Yet slumped there in the bosom of the couch, strands of his curls dancing against his glossy forehead to the soft breeze of the fan, he had a revolutionary idea. Peter was going to find Sandwich a mate and become a breeder.

It wasn’t founded on a whim. The boy had done his research on WikiHow and Yahoo Answers, and considering Sandwich was a male, he could make some nice, adorable, puppies. Peter cackled at the thought. He often referred himself to that one Bernie Sanders meme— in desperate need of financial aid. Before he was unable to afford failure. Now, he couldn’t afford even a single pencil. 😂. If he sold puppies, maybe he’d get some income. Or even get rich?? Everything seemed so possible. Maybe he’d call the business “Parker’s Pupperia” or “Dog’s Frick Chamber”— both sounded equally bad.

Promising Sandwich to be back with a girlfriend, and promising his own he did, in fact, have protection, Peter left his apartment in search of a proper mate for his four-legged friend. Peter, a skilled member of the Avengers, knew there was no better way to find a great selection of dogs than by house-by-house “inspection”. After all, he was the “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man”, except he wasn’t so sure about the “friendly” part. Was it pet-napping if he’d return the dog later? The answer was yes, and Peter was inconsolable. But he was so poor he decided to do it anyway.

Peter had learned from his last experience of not bringing the suit with him. He pulled the mask over his nose and secured it— this was going to be a Grand Theft Auto, dog edition, and who knew? If people were being troublesome it wouldn’t take much for him to blow up their home. Just saying.

The wretch of society, his long-time middle-aged, blonde-haired neighbor, Karen, had the perfect dog her family had adopted a couple of years ago. Luckily for Peter, he knew for a fact it was a girl.

It took a relatively short time swinging from his apartment complex down to Karen’s house. Creeping in from an open window, he scaled along the bright “Live, Laugh, Love Forever” wallpaper, passing by her unvaccinated children with ease. Peter found his target dozing on the floor. She was a small, white pooch, with neatly trimmed fur and floppy ears— a toy dog at best. Still cuter than Sandwich by a landslide. Peter figured he would take his chances.

But this Maltese was alert, and very angry. It was the 🐶🔪 type. Suddenly, Peter was not a perpetrator, but a victim. He was running past buildings, trees, cars, swooping in and around backyards. He thought he knew how to run fast, but this dog knew how to run faster. How did the dog even get out of the house???1?1?1 Unexplainable and quite honestly should’ve been impossible. The longer he ran, the louder the barks got, and the closer the white furball monster approached. Peter never knew small footsteps could be so terrifying. Well, yes he did, but those were Morgan’s. His breaths were coming in and out in short outbursts, and he felt the fatigue catching up to him as much as the dog was. Then, the world went black.

Peter awoke to several text notifications from May, and a snoring Sandwich next to him. It was the usual, “Don’t do anything dangerous while I’m gone shopping, ok?” and “Clean your room for me, please?”. Ned had also found a premium set at the LEGO store and MJ wanted him to come over apparently.

Throwing his phone aside, he clasped Sandwich’s hairy face and leaned in close.

No, it wasn’t for a kiss.

“I will never, ever, make you mate for puppies so I can get rich and I love your ugly face so much, bud.”

Sandwich blinked in response.

___________________________

Let’s make it really clear that this was not @parkershoodie’s fic and I wrote this as satire 💀💀💀

#👀

[chaoticneutralchocolate]

Narumitsu Week - Day 4: Chains

A little twist on the chains prompt! As always, you can also read it on AO3. Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Chapter 4: Chains

That day was a not-so-friendly reminder of why Miles didn't enjoy travelling. To be precise, why he didn't enjoy travelling when other people had planned the trip.

They were stuck in the middle of nowhere surrounded by whiteness, the temperature outside the car two digits under zero. And now they had to go out, open the trunk to get the snow chains and discover how the hell they worked. All that while wearing average weather clothes.

"We are going to freeze! I'm going to die freezing and it's all your fault!" mumbled a really furious yet cute Miles Edgeworth.

"Why didn't you come prepared?" asked Phoenix a bit defensively.

"Because you told me it was a surprise trip and didn't tell me we were heading that North!" Phoenix sighed, he was right. "It's September, I don't use Winter tires in September!"

"Okay, okay, relax. I'll get the chains and we'll install them" said Phoenix all confident, always trying to cheer up his new boyfriend.

"People used to tell me it was stupid to always carry them, you know? Not keeping them at home during summer. This is why you don't listen to people." Phoenix realised that Miles wasn't talking to him and that this was Miles' way of dealing with his closed spaces anxiety. Miles wasn't dressed properly to leave the car since Phoenix hadn't warned him about their destination. Phoenix wasn't really wearing a real Winter attire but he was expecting the cold and was wearing two layers more than Miles ―something that happens rarely―.

Thankfully, Phoenix was the one who had packed their bags so they were full of thick coats, scratchy jumpers and ―Phoenix's one― a hoodie.

Then, obviously, the first point of the plan was getting some clothes. The chains can wait for a bit. Phoenix checked Miles, who was still talking under his teeth but, other than that, he looked fine. Instead of interrupting him from his internal conversation, he rushed out to the car hoping he wouldn't notice until he was back.

Once he was out, Phoenix discovered that he would be a bit warmer if he got back to that freezing river he felt into once. He smiled at the memory. If he hadn't fallen, he probably wouldn't be here today rediscovering what it was to freeze. Anyway, he had to hurry. He opened the trunk and found the suitcases perfectly placed, Edgeworth's style. He didn't want to linger any more by opening them to look for some clothes. He grabbed them both, closed the trunk and threw the first into the car by the co-pilot seat and he got into the back seats with the other.

"What are you doing?" asked a disturbed Miles.

"We need to change if we are going to get out there to install the chains" answered Phoenix, already undressing.

Miles nodded but decided to open the suitcase that Phoenix had placed on the copilot's seat and prepare the clothes before saying goodbye to the ones he was wearing. If Phoenix had done the same, he would have noticed that the suitcase next to him was full of the stylish maroon clothes he had prepared for Miles last night.

"Wright," said Miles, concerned "what kind of joke is this?" He was holding a blue hoodie and some ugly sweatpants.

Phoenix, who had already undressed and was already regretting it, realised his mistake. "Oh, I'm sorry! That's mine." He tried to pass Miles his suitcase but there was no space between the two front seats for it to work.

Miles knew he was going to regret what he was about to say, but he did it anyway. "It's fine, you can decide for me." He turned again and started to dig into Phoenix's clothes trying to find something that could resist the storm that had formed outside. After a couple of minutes, he handed him the blue hoodie, a warm undershirt, skiing pants and what looked like a waterproof coat. He, on the other hand, accepted his complete skiing set. Hmm, maybe he should gift one to Phoenix.

They got dressed a bit awkwardly. Not because they hadn't done it before in each other presence, it simply was the first time doing it in Miles's car ―jokes on them, it wasn't going to be their last time either.

Once they realised that both of them were waiting for the other to say that they were done, they left the car and faced the snow. Phoenix waited while Miles grabbed the chains, dancing a bit to avoid freezing. He forgot packing proper shoes and his toes would have been screaming if they were able to.

"I've never used them before," said Miles timidly, so quietly that Phoenix didn't hear him over the wind. Instead, he knew what he had said by recognising his face of complete defeat.

"Don't worry! Internet will save us!" he said extracting his phone from his coat pocket. Then, he remembered. No Wi-Fi. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Miles didn't answer and simply handed it to him. He had already had this conversation with Phoenix before. If he couldn't afford to pay for a proper data plan, he'll do it for him. But he always said no, so Miles had stopped asking.

"Found it! How to install snow chains. Only fourteen steps. I love WikiHow." Phoenix's smile was so warm that even Miles noticed the temperature rising a bit. "What are the drive wheels of your car?" asked Phoenix.

Miles had to think for a bit before answering. "For this one, the rear wheels." Not-data-plan Phoenix felt a bit self-conscious in front of his boyfriend. He wasn't sure if he'll ever get used to being dating a wealthy person.

"Okay," he said checking the phone screen again "it'll do the right wheel and you can do the left one." Phoenix showed Miles a picture and he gave him a chain and then moved to the opposite side of the car to install it. It was easier than he expected. And, he realised, he was actually enjoying it.

"Wright, I can't completely drape the wheel." Phoenix's face appeared over the vehicle. "Yeah, yeah. This says you have to move the car a bit and then we can close them."

"Fine. Please, move where I can see you." Phoenix moved to the front of the car but far enough to not be hit. After all, Miles only had to advance for a bit. They were quickly back to their designed positions to secure the chains. Yep, it was way easier than they both expected.

Not bothering with closing the suitcases again ―they were already late for their reservation―  they simply moved Phoenix's bag next to the other in the backseat.

"Glad to know that I'm not going to die freezing," said Miles once they were both in place. As always, he was really bad at apologizing. Only Phoenix was able to know that he was, actually, trying to say 'I'm sorry for what I said earlier'.

"Yeah, you better not" he answered, meeting his hand on the gear lever.

Miles' face reddened a bit, realising that maybe he was starting to enjoy when other people planned his vacations. Other people meaning Phoenix Wright.

[badacts]

whither shall i follow

this is the complete piece i wrote for @thezinezone ‘s STRANGE CONSTELLATIONS, a trc zine all about the gangsey. i loved writing for it - keeping under the max word count was the hardest part! the final zine is beautiful so consider getting a copy and supporting a great cause

It’s Gansey’s yearning for ostensibly normal post-graduation rites of passage that’s to blame. Well, that, and Henry’s need to encourage every bad idea any of them have ever had.

“You’re already going on a road trip,” Ronan bitches, slinging an oddly malformed duffle bag into the trunk of his car. “This is a waste of time.”

“Your oh-so-valuable time,” Blue says, with slightly less bite than she might have used a year previous. So, no actual hate, but a decent seeming of it. She is wearing knee-length khaki shorts, like a spectacularly unsexy version of Indiana Jones, and an oversized ACDC t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

Gansey is currently unloading a bargain box of twelve white candles into the Pig. Watching this, Adam says, “Isn’t the point of camping having a campfire?”

“The point of camping is pissing in the woods,” Henry chirps from the front seat of the BMW. He claimed it upon arrival, with a grand cry of ‘shotgun!’ despite that none of them cared to compete with him for it, and has been doing something with his phone ever since. Selfies, Adam suspects.

“These aren’t intended to replace a campfire,” Gansey explains. “They’re for the seance.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Even Henry looks up, expression shifting from ‘smize’.

“You lived with a dead guy once,” Ronan says eventually. He doesn’t continue, but he doesn’t really need to.

Gansey looks perturbed by their reactions, almost affronted. “It’s a thing.”

“Ineloquent,” Henry comments. Whether it’s a criticism is debatable, considering the growing delight on his face.

“Camping in the woods, marshmallows, figuring out which tent Henry is going to sleep in, amateurish communication with spirits - they’re all part of the experience.”

“Obviously, I’ll be sleeping in your tent,” Henry says. He’s not wrong - it is obvious. “Blue requires my body heat, and Ronan might dream a murderer or attempt to hold my hand in his sleep.”

“In your dreams,” Ronan replies from where he’s retreated to the driver’s seat of the BMW. There’s the distinct sound of someone being hit, and a squawk.

“Yes, it is a thing. From Cabin in the Woods,” Blue tells Gansey.

“Wrong Turn,” Ronan contributes.

“Blair Witch Project.”

“Cabin Fever.”

“Do all those movies contain seances?” Adam interjects.

“Don’t ask me,” Ronan replies. Adam can’t hear the shrug, but he knows it happens anyway. “I haven’t seen any of them.”

“My point is that you should not base your ideas of typical teenage experiences on films where most of the teenagers involved end up brutally murdered,” Blue continues. “Plus, you know. Our lives thus far.”

“This is not like that,” Gansey says. “That was magic. This is teenage incompetence, and the worst that will come of it is irresponsible fire management involving the candles.”

Even Adam makes a disgusted sound at that. There’s rustling from the front of the BMW, and then Gansey is at once attacked with a still-laced sneaker and a hat last seen perched on Henry’s hair. The hat falls short, but the shoe bounces off Gansey’s left thigh when he moves into its path trying to evade it.

“When we get murdered in the woods, it’s your fault,” Blue intones, for a moment sounding just like Maura.

The fact of the matter is that most of the area within a few hours drive of Henrietta has felt the imprint of, at the very least, Gansey’s feet in his previous explorations. Instead of putting him off of his idea of camping, this has just imbued him with the impression that he knows of all the best camping areas, even if he has never personally stayed at one.

Adam sleeps most of the drive once he’s tuned out the sound of Henry and Ronan’s bickering, stretched awkwardly across the back seat of the BMW, and only wakes when the engine turns off.

“C’mon Parrish,” Ronan chides, twisted around so that he can shake Adam’s ankle. Like most things about him, it’s a study in contrasts - brisk voice, soft expression. “Wakey wakey.”

“I am awake,” Adam replies, which is at least seventy percent true. “We here?”

“No, we’re on the side of the road, I just had to make a quick stop to bury Cheng’s body. Yeah, we’re here.”

“You can’t kill him. Can you imagine how much Blue and Gansey would bitch about it?” Adam peels his face off of the interior of the car. He might have drooled on it, but if so it’s not the first time.

“It truly hurts me that that is your only concern,” Henry says from somewhere outside the car.

“Yeah, I bet your heart is breaking, you annoying fucker,” Ronan replies, which means that his irritation has crossed over from his normal levels to whichever Henry seems capable of inciting. Adam deals with this by pushing himself out of the car and into the great outdoors, ignoring it entirely.

Blue is allowing Gansey to help her into her backpack over by the Pig. The gracious nature of it is new, but when he watches it Adam can just about imagine Blue in her thirties acting just the same way. Occasionally, anyway. He doubts she’ll ever change that much.

“Cute,” Ronan commentates, seemingly oblivious to the fact he is putting Adam’s pack over one of his shoulders even as he says it. “We walking, or what?”

“It’s an hour hike,” Gansey says, shouldering his own pack, as though he hasn’t already told them it’s an hour hike multiple times. They’ve walked far further without half as much organisation, which Adam assumes is ‘part of the experience’ also. Gansey is, as ever, a gleaming example to hikers everywhere, down to his well-broken-in boots and his precise understanding of hike planning. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yes mother,” Blue replies, elbowing him in the ribs and ignoring that Henry is still fighting with his own pack over by the BMW. “Lead the way.”

The area Gansey has selected for them to camp in is, admittedly, quite lovely. It’s not Cabeswater - nothing else is - but the grass is long and rich-smelling, and there’s a tiny stream curving around the edge of the clearing on three sides, murmuring sweetly to itself.

The tents are quickly raised side-by-side and then abandoned in favour of establishing a fire pit. By the time they’ve collectively gathered stones, wood and Ronan’s obviously-dreamed lighter, the shadows are stretching long. Blue is allowed the honour of lighting the fire, though Adam is the one who nurses it into something other than a pathetic smoke trail.

“Dinner,” Gansey announces with obvious relish once they’re seated, and produces five packages of freeze-dried meals. “Would you like beef stroganoff or beef stroganoff?”

“Were they having a sale?” Henry asks, accepting his gingerly.

“I thought it would be the one least likely to look edible,” Gansey replies. “I was curious.”

“Not curious enough to investigate the multitude of other options, I suppose.”

“Mostly I thought it would be easier to prepare them together,” Gansey admits. “Blue?”

Blue was apparently in charge of carrying the cooker, and Henry the metal pot. True to Gansey’s prediction, the resultant brown sludge they cook looks utterly disgusting, though the smell is surprisingly inviting. It’s only when they go to serve it that they find that, while Adam brought the tin bowls, Ronan didn’t bring the cutlery. They eat with their fingers instead, Adam’s turning pink with the heat of it and his mouth.

Gansey also has all the necessary ingredients for s’mores, which they blacken in the fire a few times before Adam gives up and uses the cooker instead. Gansey eschews that in favour of sugar-charcoal, even when Henry Googles and recites statistics of charcoal as a carcinogen. Blue puts him in a chocolate-smeared headlock to stop him, and his phone nearly falls into the fire.

It’s full dark when Gansey, his contacts exchanged for glasses glinting in the light, starts to drift a bit. There’s a quietude in him now that isn’t emptiness, but instead something bigger. Like Cabeswater is living inside of him, a complicated and immense kind of peace, and even as that calls to the like in each of them, the rest of them have to act as the anchors to hold Gansey here.

It’s not so bad, really. All it takes is Henry elbowing him and passing him a candle to bring him back.

“It’s time,” he says, all delight, as Henry gives the rest of them candles too. “Should I refer to the WikiHow page for seances, do you think?”

“Please do,” Henry replies, passing Adam his candle. It’s a chunky, inelegant thing with a crooked wick, and it smells like a caricature of vanilla.

Blue squints at Adam for a moment, and then snatches the candle from his hands. “Not you.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s right,” Gansey mutters after a moment, brow furrowing. “We don’t any of your actual magic involved in our pseudo-magical ritual. Scram.”

“By that logic, Ronan shouldn’t be involved either,” Adam points out, though he does scram.

“He’s awake, it’s fine,” Henry replies. “Lynch, no magic for the next ten minutes.”

“No problem,” Ronan says lazily, still lying beside the fire. “I’m not holding any candles.”

“They go at the cardinal points,” Gansey says, and then produces a compass so he can place them correctly. Then he extracts a large bag of salt from his bag, holding it aloft. “Henry, pour this in a circle around us, if you will. Be careful not to leave any gaps.”

“This is beginning to sound suspiciously like one of movies you mentioned earlier,” Henry says to Ronan, though he does as bid anyway.

Once the salt is poured in a vague oval shape, the candles are placed and lit, and the others sit in their Gansey-assigned places, the ceremony can apparently begin. Adam settles in the mouth of one of the tents, watching them thrown into relief by the campfire in the centre of the circle, Blue’s face painted gold and the line of Ronan’s spine a silhouette.

“Oh! We need an offering,” Gansey says. “I hope you all brought something suitable?”

Thus begins a ten minute debate on what can be classified as suitable. In the end, they have a handful of wildflowers (Gansey), a collection of pennies (Henry), a tin cup of water from the stream (Blue), and a stick of gum as well as an empty wrapper (Ronan, obviously). His assertion that Noah would have loved it is the only thing that stops Gansey from sending him out of the circle to hunt for something ghosts would like better.

They deposits the offerings in the stream-washed pot, and then resettle, reaching out to join hands. Gansey prompts, “Henry?”

Henry takes over without pause, all ringmaster-grandeur. “Welcome, kind spirits, inside our circle. We’ve gathered here to commune with you in the hope that you’ll show us a sign of your presence. Please, speak with us.”

In the following silence, there’s an unmistakable sense of actual expectancy from the four of them in their flesh-and-salt circle. Even when you’re performing a WikiHow seance, it’s hard to remove the idea that it really might work when you’ve seen real magic.

There’s nothing. Adam listens, hears nothing, and then looks into the fire to the things he can always see if he looks long enough.

“Is anyone with us?” Blue asks. The shapes in the flames brighten in response to her voice, but Adam blinks them away.

“That was boring,” Ronan says after approximately two minutes of absolutely nothing happening.

“That was perfect,” Gansey crows.

“We really should have brought an Ouija board,” Henry muses. “For maximum effect.”

“The maximum effect of nothing fucking happening?”

“Let’s end the ritual,” Blue says sternly. “In case.”

“Thank you for your presence,” Gansey says. “Go in peace.”

It’s probably Adam’s imagination that the fire ripples just a little bit with Gansey’s words, like someone has just moved past it. No one else notices it, anyway.

Adam jerks awake because Ronan does, because it’s impossible not to pressed this close and because by now it’s habit.

“It’s okay,” Adam is already mumbling, and then jerks again when Ronan, sounding much more alert than he does, demands, “Did you hear that?”

Adam listens. There’s a rustling outside of the suddenly-very-flimsy tent walls, and for a moment he enters the pleasant fantasy that it might just be the wind before he realises that there is no wind. Instead, it’s the sound of something moving nearby - something large.

“It’s probably just a bear,” he says, though quietly.

There’s not much light in the tent, but he can see that Ronan’s eyes are wide as he hisses, “I can’t believe you can say ‘just a bear’.”

Instead of continuing that...potential argument, Adam pushes himself up, rustling free of the sleeping back and groping for the flashlight by the tent door.

“Adam.”

It’s said in his ear, breathless and half-whispered. Literally breathless - there’s no warmth of exhaled air.

Also, it’s his deaf ear.

The strangeness of it is compounded when Gansey says from outside the tent, the kind of calm that just barely covers for alarm, “Ronan, Adam. Get up. Slowly.”

Adam unzips the tent door and slides free, feeling the intensity of Ronan’s movement behind him as he follows. It’s black outside besides the very faint glow of a few embers and the stars overhead, and Adam can only tell where Gansey is because of the sound of his quickened breath.

“Look,” Gansey whispers, and Adam nearly says at what when he sees what Gansey means.

It’s dark. There’s no explanation behind the two matching pinpricks of red-orange light at a edge of the clearing just beyond the edge of the trees. Eyes, set higher that they would be on any normal-height human.

Ronan mutters a curse, clearly seeing it too. Henry, despite having seen Cabeswater bleed to death, says, “Mothman?” in a voice that trembles but still has a tracery of humour in it, because that’s just who he is.

“What do we do?” Blue asks. Adam can’t tell where she is in the dark.

“Running water,” the voice in his ear whispers again. There’s a echo of command there, and also sudden and welcome familiarity.

“Across the stream,” Adam tells the others. “Backwards. No sudden movements.”

It’s only the star-shine that means they can find the stream at all, nevermind backwards and too frightened to look away from the eyes. There’s no doubting that’s what they are, despite the fact they don’t blink - behind them, there’s intent, alien and only barely readable as that at all. Adam’s bare feet slip in carefully, the water surprisingly deep but the bottom firm enough to hold his weight. The other four do the same, hissing at the cold of it.

“Now what?” Ronan asks, his hand finding Adam’s.

“Cross it. Get to the other side,” Adam says, with sudden surety. “I don’t think it can follow-”

It happens very quickly. Blue, off to Adam’s left, draws in a quick breath and stumbles over something on the streambed, falling backwards in the stream with a splash and a sharp, “Fuck!” There’s a soundless moment where nothing happens, and then there’s a long lowing noise like a big animal dying.

“Fuck,” Ronan echoes, and jerks in Blue’s direction to pull her free of the water even as he shoves Gansey up onto the bank.

Adam, torch in hand, flips the switch. The beam of it falls directly on the - thing as it bounds across the clearing, strides too long and shambling, like the body can’t quite keep up with the intent of whatever is inside of it. It’s all fur and stench, the awful smell of death. Henry makes a low, sick sound, dragging Adam back over the stones along with him. They fall back onto the bank together, scrabbling up onto the grass.

For a moment, Adam doubts. The thing is so tall it looks like it could simply step across the water. There’s no explanation for the way it halts at the far edge of the stream and looks down at the water, close enough they can see every falling-apart inch of its hide. It looks like it crawled from a grave. Maybe it did.

It makes that noise again, a gentle and carrying threat. Adam’s heart is beating so hard he thinks he could drop dead, half-tangled in Henry and aware there’s no outrunning the thing if the voice is wrong.

His flashlight goes out. Blue shrieks, and there’s a flash of bright white like lightning from their side of the stream to the other, illuminating the thing for a split second before it makes impact. There’s a rush of noise and movement, retreating, and then the flashlight comes back to life. There’s nothing there.

“...is it gone?” Henry hisses, pushing himself up from his elbows. “What did you do, Parrish?”

“Nothing,” Adam replies, distracted by covering each inch of darkness with the beam of his flashlight looking for movement. There’s nothing, besides what looks like a few gobbets of meat on the ground and impressions of distorted footprints. “It wasn’t me.”

“Christ fucking alive,” Ronan says. “Was that…?”

“Noah?” Blue whispers.

There’s no wind, no voice murmuring in either of Adam’s ears. But on the other side of the stream, the fire, just embers, flickers back to life.

[heresyourchecksir]

What are the 95 fics you would recommend forever? Inquiring minds want to know! (Since I recognize many on the list you posted for the anon and loved them (and saw some new ones), and now I want to know them all! ^_^ )

Are you sure? Are you really sure you want the whole list? All 95 fics?

Too late, you’re getting them now. Once again, under the cut.

First things first, I took off the 27 I posted in this post, so really you’re only getting 68 fics in this post. Secondly, if you read a fic and really like it, please leave a kudos and a comment! Comments mean a lot to authors! Thirdly, if you like a story, click on the author’s name and see if they’ve written other fics you might like! There’s a lot of great fics by these authors that I didn’t include as well. On to the fics!

Zimbits

The Canadian vs The Fourth of July and Football by @benjji2795 (General) Words: 5,896 

His mama didn’t mean anything by it, inviting Jack to come to Georgia for the 4th of July. She didn’t know about his feelings for Jack or that he was trying to use this summer to put some kind of emotional distance between them. But all the same, he couldn’t help feeling irritated with her when he opened their front door to a pleased-looking Jack Zimmermann.

Hope that you don’t run by milou407 (General) Words: 3,004

Every day after school, Jack Zimmerman and the rest of the Samwell hockey team end up in the diner where Eric Bittle works. This is what happens after that on one special day.

Guns and Ships and so the Balance Shifts  by NowMakeThemKiss (General) Words: 476 

Jack hates it when Bitty listens to his music loudly, until one day he doesn’t mind it so much.

Catfishing for Dummies by @andquitefrankly (Teen) Words: 12,001

Eric Bittle hadn’t planned on signing up for online dating. It was just something that had happened after a drunken night with his friends. He also hadn’t planned on messaging the super obvious catfish masquerading as Jack Zimmermann. And he definitely hadn’t planned on possibly falling in love with him.

Smells like Updog by @onesaltydemon (Teen)  Words: 8,764 

Honestly, just read the whole Count Jackula series. This one just happens to be my fave.

Bitty can’t help but notice something strange with his d-men, especially after he asks Jack to turn him.

learn what joy means by @biblionerd07 (Teen) Words: 6,089

5 times Jack thinks I love you, +1 time he says it out loud.

Your Words on My Skin by @dizzilytwirling(Teen) Words: 8,562

Soulmate AU where markings appear on your skin after you fall in love. Sometimes it’s pictures, symbols, a name, maybe meaningful words your soulmate says to you.

Give It Thyme by IBoatedHere (General) Words: 8,635

They have an herb garden.

Maybe I’m Waking Up by @idrilka (Mature) Words: 157,904

Jack signs with the Falconers, graduates, and leaves. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. What comes after is even harder.

I hear sympohnies in my head by @lilbookofkell (General) Words: 14,165

Eric listens to a lot of music. Life is never so bad that it can’t be fixed with baked goods and the right soundtrack, and he’s really good at providing both, if he says so himself.

Can I get a Wingman? by @omgtrashplease (General) Words: 2,806

Jack wants to introduce Bitty to his new teammates, but fears that they won’t get along. As it turns out, he should have been worried for the opposite reason.

Alicia and Bob (I&II) by @adventuresinsuburbia (General) Words: 1,182

A short ficlet about Jack telling his parents about Bitty - the conversation mentioned in Junior Year #13 - Riverside.

Weekender by @wrathofthestag (Teen)  Words: 34,075

Honestly, wrathofthestag is another author that everyone should just go and read all of their stuff. Go do it.

Jack hates conventions – the crowds, the noise, the forced socialization, but it’s a work thing that must be done. Enter Samwell Hockey Player, Eric Bittle, who attends the convention with a group of friends. Suddenly things begin to look up. Jack and Bitty meet at Falcs Fest. Flirting, shenanigans, and love ensue.

Won’t Watch You Walk Away Again by @zimmermaenner (Teen) Words: 71,59

Bitty was never friends with Jack Zimmermann at Samwell, but after he graduates, he keeps running into him.

Enchanted by @ziimmermanns (General) Words: 14,212

OMGCP Enchanted!au – When Prince Eric runs away from a wedding and falls into a magical well, waking up in a strange world of flashing lights, cars, and skyscrapers, he’s a little overwhelmed.

Take Me in Your Arms and Leave the Rest by @omgericzimmermann (Mature) Words: 15,548

After an injury takes Jack out of his short-lived NHL career, he’s left drifting. So he buys a house and decides to rebuild it. Fortunately, he’s got a cute neighbour to keep him company.

when it’s over (you’re the start) by @whoacanada (Teen) Words: 13,404

Have I mentioned that I love whoacanada and all their writing?

Jack goes to sleep in Providence next to his boyfriend and wakes up in Montréal to discover he’s been in a coma since 2009. Refusing to believe Samwell, Bitty, and the Falconers were all a dream, Jack tracks down the real Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster to find they’ve shared the same group hallucination for years. Now, they’re on a mission to find Bitty, the love of Jack’s non-existent life, and the only member of SMH they can’t seem to get in contact with.

Remembering You by @abominableobriens (Mature) Words: 8,855

Sometimes, significant events have a way of shouting their importance before they’re even over. They’re like, flashes of memory before total darkness.

Revenge is best served @ by Perpetual Motion (General) Words: 1,894

The ESPN hockey anchors take a cheap shot. Bitty takes one back.

Of Pasts and Presents by @kenthoney  (Teen) Words: 4,193

Jack has a type. Which is apparently anyone related to the Bittles.

Penalty Box by QueenOfBrooklyn (General) Words: 1,468

This is what happens when Jack Zimmermann, hockey start, is left alone to babysit.

New Skin by @rransom (Explicit) Words: 6,6104

The world tells Jack that he’s been living the dream. His doctors tell him that he’s so lucky things turned out they way they did. His parents tell him that he is so happy. If only he could remember why.

Puck  by runswithsourwolf (General) Words: 1,696

How Jack Zimmerman unintentionally de-throned Kitt Purrson as hockey’s favorite cat.

nothin’ says lovin’ like somethin’ from a coven by @zombizombi (General) Words: 13,474

Bitty and Jack meet for the first time under interesting circumstances. What do the cards hold for their future?

Until Your Father’s at the Table by @alphacrone (Mature)  Words: 25,122

Ten years after Samwell, Eric Bittle runs into Jack Zimmermann in a sports bar in Boston and rediscovers the most important relationship of his life.

In A Crowd of Thousands by @murrayhewitt (General) Words: 1,690

Samwell was not the first time Jack and Eric’s paths crossed.

The Courtship of Eric Bittle by @gracewatsonauthor (General) Words: 2,747

Jack Zimmermann has decided that he’s going to court Eric Bittle. After reading a very informative WikiHow article and asking Shitty for advice, he feels like he’s prepared.

I Know Now by @17piesinseptember (General)  Words: 5,704

A study-group is organised by several team members, the true purpose of which is to set up Jack and Bitty. Week after week, Jack and Bitty find themselves alone together at the study group. Their relationship grows.

Nursey/Dex

ENGL145, Creative Fiction Writing by i_kinda_like_writing (General) Words: 5,068

When Nursey sees the option on his list of classes, at first he doesn’t even think about it. He is a poetry guy, he likes obscure metaphors and overwhelming imagery. And he’s good at it, so he doesn’t have any reason to branch out of his comfort zone. Then he makes his schedule and realizes that all the English electives he wants to take are during practice or when he already has a scheduled class that’s fulfilling a credit. All that’s left over is Creative Fiction and Straight White Guy Novels Only (he may be paraphrasing the second one a little.) So Nursey checks the box next to ENGL145, Creative Fiction Writing. That’s the start of it, really.

You and me and me and you by @ahausonfire (Teen) Words: 3,211

Friendship with Dex was never in the cards. Just. It wasn’t an option. Not when every glance between them and every thought declared was laced with vinegar and disdain. Not when the mere thought of sharing space with Dex off the ice had Derek’s shoulders tensing up into knots. So, no. Friendship with Dex? It should be unthinkable. It should be impossible. It should be the harbinger of some kind of apocalypse or something. And yet…

Even When We’re Ghosts by @bkmarchand (General) Words: 6,400

As most things are, this is Chris Chow’s fault. He doesn’t look like an instigator for trouble, with his perpetually cheerful smile and the way he tends to drop everything so that he can try and solve problems. Even Islanders fans wouldn’t call him a troublemaker, with his reputation for waving at babies and sitting with his legs swinging on top of his goal. Only those who know him personally can see it, the sly smile when a plan starts to come together, that look of faux innocence when he sarcastically tells you he has no idea what you’re talking about. William Poindexter is currently mowing the grass shirtless, sweat dripping down his back, and it’s all Chris Chow’s fault.

A Metaphysical Inheritance by @mcbangle (Teen) Words: 2,302

When Dex discovers a strange note from former goalie John Johnson in a mysterious book, his life changes in ways he never could have predicted.

Monster Haus by @dexondefense Words: 15,186 

This is technically a series, but it’s too good to not recommend. The tag for it has some things not on Ao3.

AU where everything is the same, except they’re all monsters.

wasted on you by @oluranurse (Mature) words: 20,803

Derek Nurse thinks that if he never falls in love with another redheaded asshole named William, it’ll be too soon.

Shitty/Lardo

everything I do, I do for you by ericaismeg(General) Words: 3,669

Lardo is stupid in love with Shitty, but how can she tell him that? She’s just one of the guys, and he’s her best friend in the whole world. Then he asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend for a weekend with his family. Things are about to get complicated, and she’s not sure how much longer she can hide her feelings.

Rainstorm, Reason to Try by @kent-parsons-cowlick (Teen) Words: 11,778

Shitty had always been Shitty and Lardo had always been Lardo even before they got to Samwell.

Others/None

Hide and Seek is a Dangerous Game by @nickbonino (Teen) Words: 3,269

Chowder suggests they play hide-and-seek. It has interesting consequences.

Twisted and Turned and Somehow Ended Up Here by@theonesyouthinkyoulove (Teen) Words: 8570

Hockey was never a thing for Alicia Zimmermann. She was a West-Coast girl from the United States – if there were any sport she would be interested in, it sure would not be hockey.

Russian Invasion by DisraeliGears (Teen) Words: 3,228

Jack comes for a visit, and has a surprise guest for Ransom.

Team Roach vs Team Attic Round Two: Battle of the Doughnuts  by bellagerantalii (General) Words: 2,344

Dunkin’ Donuts may be dropping the “Donuts” from their name, and the New Englanders on SMH are shook. Obviously, this means a battle royale between Dunkin Donuts and Tim Hortons.

Diced Tomatoes by @randomoranges (General) Words: 2,406

She has always been task-driven. To-do lists are her friends. She’s always sworn by them. Always. And maybe, somewhere along the line, she’s convinced herself that if she gets every chore crossed off, Jack will get better.

A little loving in between by @welovewebseries (General) Words: 17,751

Oh, Derek, Baby, the day you were born you gave us every Valentine’s Day present we could ever ask for,“ Grandma had said. She’d reached out to touch his jaw, tilting his face up to look at hers. “Our sweet, lovely boy.”Derek had smiled, let her kiss his face and then resumed watching the people walk around with their gifts. He hoped their recipients felt as happy and loved as he did.[Derek’s birthdays through the years. My contribution to Nursey Week 2018].

Alma Mater by westernredcedar (General) Words: 1,394

No one expects Alicia Swanson to go to college. She chooses that herself.

Specific Authors

These ones are listed by author rather than ship because it was easier to rec them this way.

@geniusorinsanity

It Drops with the Gravity of Rain (Teen) Words: 16,906When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

chiaroscuro (Teen) Words: 6,542“Nu, habibi,” Derek’s mother says to him gently, as they leave the registration table. “Are you sure about this? Hockey is a rough sport. It’s going to hurt, sometimes.”Derek, all of eight years old, squares his shoulders. “That’s okay, Ammi,” he says. “I’m not scared.”(They warn him that hockey hurts. They don’t warn him that depression hurts worse.)

above, beneath, betwixt, between (No Rating) Words: 6,574It doesn’t start on a dark and stormy night. Later, Dex will think: that’s what lured them into the false sense of security. It’s hard to imagine your new room being haunted when you move in on such a nice day.

heyfightme

The two that were here apparently no longer exist. Sorry folks!

heavy lightness (feather of lead) (Explicit) Words: 29,847The rivalry between the men’s hockey teams of Samwell and La Croix universities is long standing, thoroughly indoctrinated, and often bloody on and off the ice. With his future professional career at risk, La Croix captain Jack Zimmermann knows he needs to distance himself from the feud. Meeting Samwell’s undervalued winger Eric Bittle while crashing a party, definitely isn’t in his plans. Quicker than anticipated, though, it becomes clear that there’s more than just hockey on the line - for both of them.

The Road Leads Back to You (Mature) Words: 56,394Jack Zimmermann is an established hockey player. He’s three years in to his NHL career, has had the A for the Falconers for two and a half, and is ready to make winners out of the new group of rookies. He pulls one under his wing, affectionately nicknamed Poots, and it should all go as planned. But say Jack accidentally discovers that Poots has a boyfriend. And say that Poots wasn’t a very good boyfriend. And say, for arguments’ sake, Poots’ boyfriend definitely deserved better. Jack is maybe, possibly, totally fucked.

always, always, always on my mind (Mature) Words: 8,767The app is ubiquitous, a dating service that dictates the type and length of every relationship it finds for its users. For Jack Zimmermann, it hasn’t been a real problem - until he is Matched with Eric Bittle for a week-long fling, and is left feeling like he’s missing out on something bigger.

@justwritins

Mixing It Up (Mature) Words: 40,869Bakery AU!Eric Bittle, of Bitty’s Bakery, is very excited to have been chosen as a contestant for the Food Network Challenge. He’s even more excited to find out that he’s making a cake for the NHL new-Cup winners, the Falconers.

Self Reflection (Teen) Words: 29,218Bitty is in Annie’s, bent over his textbooks and wondering, not for the first time, why he decided to take French as a language (oh yes, it’s because so many old recipes are written in French, he’s going abroad there to study food history, can’t wait for the summer; half of fall and then winter semester until he goes, but that doesn’t help him now does it) , when he hears someone clear their throat.“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”Oh boy.Eric doesn’t even bother lifting up his head. “Sorry, not a girl and not interested.”

@petals42

Ethics of Journalism (Teen) Words: 9,564When Dan Erikson is assigned to write an article about Jack Zimmermann’s years in college, he thinks he knows what he’s getting into.

Shitty, Year 3 (Teen) Words: 7,786As Jack starts playing in the NHL, he hears from Shitty less and less. Which is wrong, of course. When Jack realizes, he sets about fixing it.

@porcupine-girl

Here Comes the Dreams (General) Words: 26,416Sometimes it seems like Jack can’t go anywhere in Providence without being hounded for autographs, so he’s relieved when the people who work at the coffee shop in his new neighborhood don’t seem to recognize him.

Braced Myself (Teen) Words: 24,984Jack knows better than most, how life’s biggest changes come at you hard, fast, and out of nowhere.

Sure Thing (General) Words: 10,733Five times that members of Samwell Men’s Hockey team were unusually perceptive and one time when they… weren’t.

Just Spit It Out (General) Words: 2,392Jack can’t believe he just heard the words on his soulmark from the mouth of the gorgeous new waiter at the diner he frequents. But now the pressure is on - what if he says the wrong thing back? Can you screw up meeting your soulmate?

Will Wonders Never Cease (Teen) Words: 56,840Eric has landed his dream job: social media manager for the Providence Falconers! Not only does he get paid to tweet, for an NHL team at that, but it’s a job where he’ll be able to make good use of his magic - when nobody’s looking, of course. Everyone on the Falconers is a joy to work with… with the notable exception of Jack Zimmermann. Eric understands that Jack doesn’t like social media, but he could certainly be a little more polite about it. Luckily, Eric has support from his Samwell buddies, as well as his best friend - a man whose face he’s never seen, and whose name he doesn’t know. They met on an online forum where witches can gather anonymously, since it isn’t safe for them to advertise their existence in a world where magic isn’t trusted. They’ve been friends for years now, but Eric is only just starting to realize that he might have deeper feelings for someone he can never meet face-to-face.

@tdkeh

Chicken Soup for the Bud (General) Words: 3,577Bad Bob shows up in Providence to nurse his son back to health when he hears that Jack has the flu.

The Heist (Teen) Words: 4,868Bitty uncovers the details of an elaborate (and successful) heist while searching for the missing key to the Haus basement.

badcaseofcasey

How Come Aquaman Can Control Whales? (Teen) Words: 14,035AKA a dystopian The Martian AU that literally no one asked for but I am, for some reason, committed to writing.

That Thorns Have Roses (General) Words: 5,358Jack buys Bitty a rose from one of the clubs on campus. It isn’t until later that he realizes what that might mean. So of course, he tries to cover it up by buying roses for the rest of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team.

Unknown Author

Here I am, Baby (General) Words: 35,562You’ve Got Mail- AUEric Bittle is devastated when the massive corporate bakery, Zimmermann’s, opens around the corner from his small pie and coffee shop. He vents his frustrations to the anonymous IG user he’s been talking to, and falling for, all the while waging war against Jack Zimmermann’s corporate take-over. Little does he know the face behind the anonymous IG account, and little does he know what will happen in the future.

Over Heels (General) Words: 2,552Jack’s fingers brush through Bitty’s hair and they’re quiet for a while until Jack says, “I really do wanna marry you some day, Bits.”Bitty blinks, his eyes feeling a little hot and a little wet because at no point in his life—not when he was younger, not when he left Georgia, not when he met Captain Jack Zimmermann—did he ever think he’d get something like this. “When you ask, I’m going to say yes.”

Quand On Est Tous Les Deux (Mature) Words: 16,161When he wakes up in a strange country, surrounded by a language he doesn’t speak, and no memory of the last several years, Eric Bittle isn’t sure how he’s ever going to get back to Georgia. But at the hands of the village baker, Eric finds hope in the most dreary time of his life.

A Wall Around Me (Mature) Words: 59,630When Eric Bittle’s scholarship is threatened, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He can’t go home, and he can’t afford Samwell on his own. Then help is offered from the most unexpected place–Hockey Legend, Bad Bob Zimmermann. Bitty knows things like this don’t come for free, he just never expected he’d have to “look after” Bob’s equally famous son, Falconers’ captain, Jack Zimmermann.

Then There Was You (Mature) Words: 56,549Thirty minutes after being traded to Pittsburgh, Jack Zimmermann’s entire life changes at the front-end of a car running a stop sign. As he recovers from his injury, and grief which is far more complicated than he wants to admit, he meets the exuberant bookshop/bakery owner, Eric Bittle. As their friendship grows, and as he waits for the go-ahead to get back to hockey, Jack is forced to evaluate his future, and what he wants from it.

[polarclever44]

How To Download An App For Iphone From Mac

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Let my clear this up for everyone. I just went from droid to iPhone 5 and have Verizon. On droid a message would pop up saying please connect to wifi before downloading large apps however the app would still download but only if on 4g LTE. Now on IPhone and still 4g LTE I can't download large apps. This is apple and only apple that prohibits this. Also for those of you that have never owned a droid I highly recommend it because as a phone droid is way better. My issue with droids were some apps I really want to use affected my data signal and iphone does not have these issues. If u don't plan on using as many apps droid is light years ahead of iPhone in that area. The Samsung commercial says it best trust me go check one out. I love my iphone 5 just still getting use not hAving as many options as I did on the droid.

Active4 months ago

The Mac App Store makes buying and installing Mac apps a fairly easy process by taking care of all of the heavy lifting involved. The Mac App Store will both download an app to your Mac and start the installation process. This wikiHow teaches you how to download an application from the Apple App Store on an iPhone or iPod touch. Open the App Store. This is a blue app that has a white 'A' with a white circle around it. Click “To Mac” button to back up the photos app to Mac and choose a folder on Mac to save the exported app. When the process is over, the photos app on your iPhone will be available on Mac. You can also refer to the steps listed above to deal with how to back up music app from iPhone to Mac.

Now that Apple has removed the ability to access the iOS App Store in iTunes 12.7 on Mac/Windows (See MacRumors article), I can't find any way to download an IPA file from the App Store. As a note, I'm not worried about installing the IPA files (see 'How do I backup and restore my IPA app backups in iTunes 12.7?'), I just need the IPA files as a developer looking for some basic information on the apps. I'd like to solve this without resorting to jailbreaking as my devices are already updated to iOS 10.3.3.

Here are things that I've tried that didn't work:

How to download and install iOS 12 on your iPhone, iPad, or iPod Touch The easiest way to get iOS 12 is to install it right on the iPhone, iPad, or iPod Touch you want to update. Go to Settings.

Extract from backup: The apps seem no longer to be backed up.

Save to Mac from iPhone management software: I believe this has been blocked by Apple works as far back as iOS 8.3.

Figuring out how the file is downloaded via proxy connection: At least for me, this looks too complicated to do because you have to authenticate with your Apple ID and I'm sure that by now, Apple even requires the phone to be authenticated in some way. Not sure if it would even be possible in the same way that you see all those Android APK download services out there.

At least for now, it looks to me like maybe the only way is to hold onto an older version of iTunes for as long as that works.

Brandon RaderBrandon Rader

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5 Answers

This isn’t exactly what you want, but just to add this option too...

If you use the 'Apple Configurator 2' app, you can still download and update apps from multiple Apple IDs - as you also could with iTunes.

Connect the device with USB

Sign in under Account:

Choose Update in the menu:

A more detailed description can be found here: http://krypted.com/apple-configurator/upgrade-devices-and-apps-using-apple-configurator-2/

The Apps are downloaded to:

Rene LarsenRene Larsen

There is now another solution: Apple provides a version of iTunes (12.6.3) which supports new devices such as iPhone 8 and iPhone X which still retains the App Store.

Apple Configurator 2 works well for me, but I’m adding this answer for those who would prefer to use iTunes or can’t use Apple Configurator (Windows users)Source: https://9to5mac.com/2017/10/09/apple-itunes-apps-focused-removed-stopgap/

Download: https://support.apple.com/en-us/HT208079

Edit: You can have iTunes 12.7 and iTunes 12.6.3 installed side-by-side.

Install iTunes 12.6.3 from the links above.

Copy the iTunes app and paste it to where you want, rename if necessary.

Hold Option and double click iTunes. Create a new library in a separate location. iTunes 12.6.3 and iTunes 12.7 can't use the same library because iTunes 12.7 will update the file and iTunes 12.6.3 won't be able to understand it.

Manually download the latest iTunes from Apple's website and run the installer to update your main copy of iTunes.

(Optional) Change your iTunes 12.6.3 icon to a different icon to help distinguish between the two. (Right-click, Get Info, drag new icon onto existing icon).

Important: You will need to Option-Open each time you switch versions so that you can select the correct library and don't update the older library to 12.7 format.

Brandon RaderBrandon Rader

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The Mac 'Apple Configurator 2' Update button solution will work if you both have an older version on your iOS device or on your Mac, and a newer version is in the App store.

If the old version of the app is on your device, hit the 'Update' button in the Configurator. After the Configurator downloads the new version, an ipa file will Temporarily appear in a sub-sub-directory of the:

directory. Immediately copy the app .ipa file out of that directory to a safe place (remote storage, etc.) before doing anything else (such as quitting the Configurator app, etc.).

If an old version of the app is not on your device, but you have saved an old copy from your ~/Music/iTunes/Mobile Applications directory, or other backup, you can first use the Configurator app to install the old app on your device by using: Add button > Apps > Choose from my Mac... After installing the old version, follow the instructions above for updating to the current version of the app to get an .ipa file.

If you don't have an old version anywhere, try an Add of the same app twice, and see if you can copy the ipa file during the second Add operation if Configurator complains.

hotpaw2

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hotpaw2

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Disclosure: I'm one of the developers of iMazing.

iMazing 2.5 for Mac and PC can download apps from the App Store and install .ipa files: https://imazing.com/guides/how-to-manage-apps-without-itunes

Jérôme BédatJérôme Bédat

Seems the new way to do it is to open iTunes, then drag the .ipa file onto the device in the list on the left hand side (between Library and Playlists).

grg

How To Transfer An App From Iphone To Mac

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I apperceive what you’re thinking: how can ambrosia cure grief? Well, in all honesty, it can’t — but it can accomplish it added manageable.

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I absent my mother and affectionate grandmother afore I could airing bottomward the aisle. My mother died first, suddenly, and my grandmother took over her role as acting mother. She anesthetized abroad abounding years later, at a abundant slower, added acute pace. My brother and I watched helplessly as age and Parkinson’s ravaged her anatomy and mind. Accident one ancestor is bad, but accident two affectionate abstracts at an aboriginal age — or any age — is indescribable.

Fortunately, my grandmother didn’t get abroad afore teaching me how to bake. Addition already told me that aback it comes to our memories, we bethink moments, not time. We won’t bethink those bags of acceptable or bad days, but the absolute moments that change our life’s direction. As I get older, I anamnesis beneath and beneath of my time as a child, but I could never balloon the aliment my grandmother aerated out. Especially on Jewish holidays.

I grew up Quaker. Or at atomic that’s how my ancestor approved to accession my brother and I. So, my Jewish grandmother would try to absorb as abounding non-traditional foods into Jewish holidays as she could. Enter the amber Swiss roll.

My grandmother admired us through her food. We’d break at her abode every added weekend, and she’d accomplish us all the aliment we could dream of: steak for breakfast, matzo brawl soup on holidays, and amber Swiss cycle for no (or any) acumen at all. That amber Swiss cycle is one of my ancient aliment memories… besides that one time my ancestor acrimonious up mashed potatoes, added amber abstract to them, and alleged them candied potatoes (but that’s a adventure for addition day).

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The amber Swiss cycle had three layers: amber buttercream on the outside, amber blot block on the inside, and boilerplate buttercream in the center. At every Jewish holiday, I’d accomplish a beeline for it afore we alike got through dinner. My mother would try captivation me back, but somehow, my grandmother consistently managed to bastard me a sliver of the block afore we started dinner. This was how she admired me.

(CREME MACARONS/Courtesy Food52)

With any of my admired foods — a addiction that continues to this day — I alpha by bistro my atomic admired $.25 first, reserving the best for the end. In this case, the amber buttercream would go first, followed by the blot block afar from the boilerplate buttercream that I would flavor at the actual end. My grandmother would watch as I anxiously afar the layers, demography it as a assurance that I capital to apprentice how to bake. Funny affair is, I never abstruse how to accomplish those Swiss cycle until the actual end.

It was the aftermost year of her life, by which point my grandmother didn’t baker anymore, drive anymore, or do abundant of annihilation at all. Her kitchen no best smelled of brisket, matzo brawl soup, amber baking in the oven. In one of my abounding moments of panic, acumen that I was anon activity to lose the majority of my family, I affective one of my best friends, went to appointment my grandmother, and asked to apprentice how to accomplish that admirable amber roll.

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She began by teaching us how to accomplish the band of amber blot block on a area pan. She never bare a compound — aggregate was either memorized or fabricated up — but somehow aggregate still formed aural the burdensome ambit of baking. Not abandoned did it assignment anniversary time, it consistently angry out to be one of the best things we anytime ate. As she took us through the process, she’d stop now and again, her anamnesis bottomward abroad from her. Watching addition you adulation atomize appropriate in advanced of your eyes is like demography an arrow through the heart. Luckily, I had accomplished comestible academy at that point, and was able-bodied on my way to active my own bakery, so we were able to allotment it together.

The compound is appealing simple really. You accomplish a accepted buttercream compound and bisect it in half, authoritative one ancillary amber with amber powder, and the added ancillary boilerplate with boilerplate bean. The harder allotment is rolling the block afterwards disturbing it. I’ve apparent bodies accomplish Swiss rolls application a Silpat and rolling the block aback hot. However, I chase my grandmother’s method, application a apple-pie bowl anhydrate and a ton of confectioner’s amoroso to cycle the block while it’s brim hot — it’s not absolutely done until you’re covered in amoroso from arch to toe. The mess, my grandmother would say, was a assurance of acceptable aliment to come.

That was one of the aftermost times I can bethink her actuality (almost completely) in her appropriate mind, aback I still bent glimpses of her vivacity, her wit, her gift. Not too continued after, she died, all alone, in the auberge area of one of those assisted active centers.

My brother and I were out of accompaniment aback it happened. We were told she was accepting bigger afore we left, which now I can see was actual wrong. Aback I begin out, agitation crept in like a crippling virus. I won’t belie it (no pun intended), but ambidextrous with bifold the affliction was like aggravating to ability the apparent of water, out of breath, while addition pushes your arch aback under. My abandoned alleviation was that I now knew I could accumulate her bequest alive. So I started authoritative Swiss rolls.

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I begin a affectionate of accord in baking. The abstraction of shutting off the noises of the apple and anxiously absorption on one assignment from alpha to accomplishment became therapeutic. I began by recreating her amber Swiss roll, but confused into altered flavors, abacus my own artful to the recipe, which she consistently claimed was my allowance altered from hers. Red clover Swiss rolls, birthmark shortcake, amber cherry, dejected velvet, pistachio — consistently topped with amber shapes, beginning fruit, and beginning flowers. That was my appropriate blow that I knew she admired and encouraged.

From starting an online bakery, to creating bakeware supplies, and alike hosting a web series, I’ve kept affective through the loss, anniversary date of my baking career befitting her spirit and bequest alive. But sometimes, aback activity hits hard, aback I alpha to feel panic, or feel myself missing her intensely, I go aback to the original: that amber Swiss roll. I booty a abysmal breath, abutting my eyes, and booty in the balm — it consistently brings me aback to those moments in time aback I still had her. And again I sit bottomward to eat it, boring unraveling the layers, starting with the amber buttercream and catastrophe with savoring my memories of her. The best allotment for last.

Grandma’s Amber Swiss Roll

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This adventure was originally appear on Food52.com: How My Grandma’s Swiss Cycle Helped Me Cope With Accident Her

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