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About >_< 0_0

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  • Birthday 01/10/1994
  • Location Stafford, VA, USA

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    Drawing, writing, reading, hiking, driving, video games, clubbing, drinking, history, philosophy, foreign policy, nuclear technology, military stuff -- and chicks.

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  1. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    Into the plot, you wish to peek, More Easter Eggs, you must seek 😝 Haha Sorry about the weird rhyme; I just watched the Leprechaun movie 🍿
  2. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    I'm starting a "Hate Socrates" fan-club if anyone is interested No? I'll just sit over here then... Chapter Twelve Slowly, with a pounding heart, I made my way to Central Hall, the oldest, tallest building on campus. It was apparently built in 1871 by British architects, and funded by the glut of gold trading that companies made selling to gold miners to the south. I remembered when I first arrived on campus how I marvelled at the impressive wooden carvings on the walls and the spires thrusting skyward from the roof. It was hard to say if it was Victorian or Gothic, but now it didn’t help my mounting sense of dread as I climbed the steps and entered the creaking, oaken, double-doors. The part-time, student receptionist at the front desk glanced quickly in my direction as she adjusted her glasses (no doubt noting that the male on campus had dared enter sacred grounds) before returning to typing away on her computer. I approached her counter awkwardly tapped my fingers over it. “Good morning.” “Good morning… Jason,” she glanced at me again. “Um… I’m here to see the Dean… again.” “Go ahead,” she continued typing. “She’s still in her office on the top floor now. But you should hurry before her meeting starts.” “Thanks,” I pushed off the counter and headed for the narrow, creaking stairway. “Take it easy,” I whispered between breaths. “She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t have anything. I didn’t do anything.” I had a strange habit of daydreaming bad conversations. Any social interaction I dreaded would be rehearsed and played-out in my head endlessly, until every possibility was accounted for. For every possible question and accusation the Dean might throw at me, I had a counter primed and ready. I would be fine. Probably. I reached the top floor and entered the waiting room. The Dean’s secretary sat behind a counter and waved in my direction. “Hello Jason, how are you?” “Hello ma’am,” I frowned to myself, acutely aware that it was not good that the secretary knew me so well. What was her name? Martha? The name placard on the counter was angled away from me. Right behind it was a bowl of peppermints. Maybe if I took one, I could check her name placard. Yes, that sounded like a plan. “So you emailed me to come over ASAP?” “Yes,” the secretary was smiling as I took a peppermint (aha! Her name was Lara). “The Dean wanted a quick word with you.” “What do you think? Is it a good thing that I don’t know why she wants to see me?” “I wouldn’t know,” Lara shrugged. “But she’s waiting for you in there.” My eyes followed her pointed finger towards the Dean’s door, and was immediately overwhelmed by a sense of fear and foreboding. My heartbeat pounded against the sides of my neck, and my forehead chilled. “I guess I’ll figure it out then.” With mounting dread, I knocked on the Dean’s door. “Good morning ma’am, Jason Alban requests permission to enter.” A brief moment of silence before I heard her stern voice on the other side. “Try again.” I looked back at Lara, who whispered “three knocks.” Ah. Three knocks. “Good morning ma’am, Jason Alban requests permission to enter.” “Come in.” In I went. Her office was very organized and clean, decorated by an assortment of old college relics, including several paintings from arts graduates, walls of books, a bust of Winston Churchill, and an intricate Persian rug. Dominating the centre of the room was a massive mahogany desk, adorned with a Spartan arrangement of one monitor screen and a small stack of papers. The Dean sat in a leather chair, smartly-dressed in her black suit and white blouse combo, eyes wincing at her work through thin glasses. I stood before her desk. “Try again,” she didn’t even look at me. Damn. What did I forget? I left the room and started from the top. Three knocks. “Good morning ma’am, Jason Alban requests permission to enter.” “Come in.” I walked in again, teeth gritting against each other. Now I was irritated. Would I even be able to speak without masking my own anger – hang on! My fear was gone! Maybe this anger was good for something after all. “Good morning, ma’am.” “Why did I call you in here?” she didn’t even look at me. “I don’t know, ma’am,” I was secretly thrilled that I’d finally entered her office properly. “Why do you think I called you in?” “I guess something happened, but I don’t know what it could be.” “Do you know someone named Mary?” “I think so.” The Dean raised an eyebrow and finally began looking at me. “Look at me Jason,” she leaned into her desk, fingers lacing together. “Do you know her or not?” “I probably do… I don’t remember names very well.” “Mary’s emailed me a letter that says you’ve been bothering her and her friends.” Shit. This had nothing to do with Emily. All the rehearsals in my head had been for naught. Then again, I suddenly remembered who Mary was, of all things. “Is Mary one of the girls from the Equine Club?” Now the Dean looked as irritated as I had felt a moment ago. “Let me read you what she sent to me: Dear Ms. Kern, the male student has been stalking around our barn. Without permission, he has wandered alone through our yard and fed our horses with food belonging to the Biology classes. He has also followed me to cheerleading practice and stared at my squad as we trained for the upcoming game for several minutes…” she looked at me again. “Do you know what this looks like?” “Creepy stuff?” I offered. “But it’s not what –” “Perception is reality,” the Dean interrupted. “That’s how the world works.” “That sounds a lot like guilty until proven innocent,” I flinched, immediately regretting what I said. “Did you do these things?” “I mean, technically, but I was trying to get into the Equine Club and they told me –” “Did you do these things or not? Yes or no?” There it was! The fucking Socratic Method! Taking the entire universe and all its complexity and cramming it into your little binary yes/no questions so that everything was on your terms. Socrates invented it thousands of years ago, and he was sentenced to death for harassing the whole city of Athens with his juvenile questioning. Thousands of years later, and people still thought they were smart when they used that dead “philosopher’s” method. “Yes, but they told me to help them clean the –” “You only need to answer with yes or no.” “I need to tell you what they’re doing, ma’am.” “Did I tell you to speak out?” “No,” No ma’am. I didn’t realize this was a talking-down conversation. “Jason Alban,” the Dean glared at me. “I have concerns. This email matches a trend.” “A trend?” Her eyes burned into my soul, waiting for it to break for daring to speak. I caught myself from saying “sorry;” I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. But I still shook like a leaf. “Mary’s not the only student who’s complained about your actions. Others have come in here, worried about how you walk through the woods around their sorority houses. In fact, I have another email about how you were sneaking behind the bushes of Sigma Omega’s backyard. Would you mind explaining to me what you were doing there?” Shit. Shit! That was the night I had woken up hungover after I’d downloaded the fattening app! I had no clue how I’d gotten there, but I couldn’t tell her I was hungover because I wasn’t legally old enough to drink yet! I had no cover story! “I wasn’t trying to do anything wrong, ma’am,” I felt my voice fraying. “That was… I had a rough night.” “It looks to me like you were peeking into the windows.” “N-no ma’am. I was… I fell asleep wandering outside. A girl had explained to me that night that she would never love me. It… it really hurts trying to explain it, but I was so devastated that I wandered through the woods all night long… I could see everyone enjoying each other’s company, but I didn’t know how to ask them how to… if I could hang out with them, and I ended up lying against the building because I wasn’t brave enough to go inside… and it was too late at night to go in anyway.” The Dean’s malice ebbed slightly, leaving behind an emotionless professional calculating my fate. “Jason, I need you to listen to me. As the Dean, my job is to sense problems before they start. Right now, I can tell that you’re not telling me everything. So let me ask you one more time: what’s going on with you? If you were me, what would you do?” “I don’t know about that,” I shied from her deep prodding. “I’ve never been a Dean before.” “I asked what’s wrong with you. Tell me.” There was a lot wrong with me, wasn’t there? But I couldn’t admit that; that would cause problems. This whole conversation had gone south real quick. “I personally think I’m fine, but this whole college situation is stressing me out. I don’t have any friends here – or a relationship. It’s depressing… it’s very depressing.” The Dean waited a second for me to continue, but faced with my silence, she straightened in her chair and turned to her computer. “There are twelve hundred students enrolled here. Do you realize how much of my time you waste when I have to deal with you? I have a meeting in five minutes, but I have to finish with you first,” she clicked her mouse a few times. “I’m setting you up with an appointment with the college psychiatrist.” “But I said I wasn’t… I’m just depressed.” “Who knows? I don’t. I’m not qualified to say, especially if you insist on not telling me anything. So psychiatrist it is. Any questions?” If I didn’t have questions, would I be allowed to go? “No ma’am.” “Get out.” “Thank you ma’am,” I turned and made a beeline for the door. “Jason.” Of course; a last minute word. I turned to look at her again. “Stay away from Mary. She obviously doesn’t appreciate you being around her, so your best option’s to not aggravate her further, you understand me?” “Yes ma’am. Good morning.” “Just go.” I left her office and closed the door with a deep, exasperated breath. That felt far worse than I thought it would, and yet she hadn’t mentioned Emily once. Could it be that Emily had not said anything? That was both a relief and a burden at the same time. She could tell anyone about our incident at any time, and in my position, I’d be doomed. Speaking of doomed, I was being told to see a psychiatrist! A psychiatrist! Did the Dean tell me to see one because she thought I was crazy, or did she have a more sinister intent? What if she meant for me to confess all my feelings to this individual all for the purpose of having written, documented evidence that I was emotionally unstable and deserving of academic probation, suspension, or even expulsion? My blood throbbed through my body, intoxicated with equal doses of fear and anger. What was I even supposed to do at this point? No friends, no love, a stalker’s reputation, suspicions of insanity, and the looming threat of expulsion? The only thing I had going for me was the fattening app; it was the only thing I had to fight back with. I looked down at my Feasting Ring and traced it with my fingers. I needed to figure out the best way to use it. The Dean’s Secretary, Lara, had left the waiting room, no doubt to eat lunch. The bowl of peppermints immediately grabbed my attention, sitting invitingly on her abandoned countertop, available to anyone with a yearning for a casual bite – a perfect target for my new power. Acutely aware that someone could walk-in at any moment, I straightened my ringed-index finger and probed the peppermints, willing new ones to take form, each filled with a subtle pound of weight. I felt them materialize from the bottom of the bowl, and watched with detached fascination as the mound of peppermints rose over the lip of the bowl… The Dean opened her office door. “Jason,” she snapped. “Why are you here?” I stared at her, dumbfounded. “I… am I allowed to have one? One of these, I mean,” my finger was still buried inside. “Take one,” the Dean glowered. “Ah, yes. I wasn’t sure if they were just for the staff or –” “Go Jason! I’m locking the door.” “Yes ma’am,” I hastily withdrew my hand and skittered out of the waiting room. I didn’t grab a peppermint after all.
  3. >_< 0_0

    New Fit Couple

    Each person's different for calorie needs, but a good measure is your own hunger. If you're trying to gain weight, eat until you're not hungry and then eat slightly more than that. That should work.

    My fortune cookie told me “you see beauty in what others find ordinary.” They know! They know I have a fetish! 😱😂

  5. >_< 0_0

    New Fit Couple

    Do lots of powerlifting! It's very energy-intensive, you eat a ton, and gain lots of weight from it. Deadlifts, squats, and bench-pressing.
  6. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    I was worried that hint was too vague to be picked up 😅 Then again, there’s plenty more Easter eggs. I remember reading Deathnote for the first time and getting twenty chapters in before thinking to myself: “huh. Is Kira evil? Not just a little, but extremely evil?” The story made me wonder about what exactly WAS good or evil, what line one crossed to be considered evil and such. I was kind of hoping it would take longer for people to start wondering that about Jason, but that was the intention 🤔 We know he’s screwed being where he is, but is his morality being compromised, and... ugh. I have to stop rambling before I spoil the story 😓
  7. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    That’s not the safeword! 😈 Hopefully the hints I’ve sprinkled everywhere are enough to solve with 👌 It’s as if he’s cursed or something
  8. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    Another chapter! Written faithfully while listening to very dark music 😈 Chapter Eleven I spent uncounted moments leaning against a large fir tree in the deepest part of the woods. My mind was in a state of shock, thoughts spinning constantly in a never-ending and useless loop. Over and over again, I remembered the frightened look in Emily’s eyes, the way she hugged her half-naked torso to hide as much of her body as possible, the way her voice wailed as I dove through bramble and thorns… With a bloodied hand, I felt a scratch on my neck and pulled a blackberry thorn out of my inflamed skin. My watch glinted on my wrist. What time was it? It was nearly noon. Sighing, I craned my neck and stared at the rays of sunlight fighting their way through dissipating fog and fluttering leaves. I was done. How many times had I thought this? It didn’t matter. Emily would surely tell everyone I’d somehow drugged her, stripped her, and abused her. Word would spread within hours: Stalker Jason had finally done it. Security was probably looking for me already. I’d be expelled, convicted of rape, rot in some cell, and never get hired by anyone anywhere… if I got out… and no one would date a convicted rapist. I would die alone, unloved, unforgiven… oh God! Emily! I only wanted to be loved! I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to die alone! But she wasn’t real. My mind stopped spinning. At last, in the whirlpool of thoughts, a solid idea presented itself, and I clung to it like a drowning man. Emily wasn’t real. None of them were. They couldn’t be! I was cursed, condemned to live amidst beautiful women and be denied by each one. This whole college, the woods, the whole island, it was some kind of matrix! A purgatory! A leaf fell on my lap and slid to the ground. Ants skittered betwixt twigs and brown nettles. For a matrix, this all seemed very real. Was Sucky telling the truth? What if she was lying? Sniffing, I stood up and brushed myself off. My mind was back. Sucky could be lying, but so what? In this hostile territory, she was my only ally. Her fattening app was my only way to fight back against my tormenters, and I would seize the chance to force my vengeance upon them – whether they were real people or not. But what of Emily? What if security was searching for me? Could I hide in these woods? I began walking slowly through the forest. No. I couldn’t stay hidden forever. Come to think of it, Emily and I had been alone all morning. There were no witnesses, and there was no evidence of any foul-play to be found. Security had no authority to arrest me on the grounds of such hearsay. Yes, the most that could happen is I could be sent to the Dean’s office for questioning, and therefore, I had all weekend to think of a cover story. I just had to return to my room and act innocent – which I was – and not hide in the woods. I could see the edge of the forest just ahead. I had no idea where I was, but once I was in the open, finding my way home would be easy. There wasn’t enough homework. I had no friends. A storm roared outside. I’d blown through my secret stash of alcohol. Frustrated, I stared at the ceiling and clenched my fists, feeling the cold metal of my rings against my scratched palms. I needed my mind to concentrate on something, anything that wasn’t related to Emily or my yearning for companionship. “Nazi Zombies it is,” I sighed. Turning to my desk, I started the game on my big laptop and pulled out a second. This was my old laptop, too small and obsolete to play modern games, but still useful for what I was about to do. Now with both laptops set before me, I began a round of solo Nazi Zombies on the Kino Der Toten map. While it was loading, I started my video playlist on the other laptop. Level one. No Nazi Zombies to be found at first. They shuffled slowly from out of sight, prying at the boarded windows. Sprinting, I knifed at their faces through the boards. The first video played: an AMV set to Snuff Machinery. Wenn du dich mit dem Teufel ein lässt, Verändert sich nicht der Teufel, Der Teufel verändert dich. Three zombies down. I scrambled to put the boards back into place. Der Teufel verändert dich. Six zombies, an ominous noise. Level two had begun. The music video pulsed with flashing light and mounting violence. I could feel my heart hitting my ribs. More zombies were coming, and slightly faster. They’d picked on my scent and lusted for my blood. I slashed their necks open and boarded the windows. Levels three, four, and five passed in quick succession. They were starting to run after me; I’d have to escape the room soon. Another music video: Nihil by Ghostemane. I grimaced with passion as I unlocked doors and sprinted down winding stairs. I needed a gun. The MP40 submachine gun would do. The zombies were in the room. You think that I need you! I’ll show you I’m fine! Level seven, level eight, level nine. The tempo accelerated. Zombies closed-in from all directions, and I ran through the abandoned theatre as they moaned and screamed for me. Feel Good Inc. set to laughing faces and anime gore flashed wildly. Next, a string of instrumentals with seizure-inducing visuals and psychotic violence. I glanced back and saw the horde swarming in, tongues wagging. They were trying to kill me! The entire campus was trying to kill me! Level ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen... Saint Anger began with deafening effect. Anime soldiers impaled on flag poles. Undead horsemen charging through London. I escaped through the teleporter and upgraded my pistol into dual-wielding grenade launchers. Blood spurted in all directions. My fingers clutched my game controller with pure bloodlust, and I grinned, ecstatic with the overwhelming violence. I was now fully entranced into a state of meditation. Now every single thought was hellbent on fighting back. They’d never take me alive! I’d take them all down! The power went out. The screens of my laptops dimmed in powersaving mode. Grumbling, I paused the game and exited to desktop. The battery life lasted twenty minutes if a game was running. While I was at it, I paused the playlist. The meditation was over. “Damn it –” I started to say in a high voice before coughing. Was something in my throat? My hand scratched at the inflamed cuts on my neck. My cheek burned hot, and I felt it curiously. Sucky had licked my cheek. It cooled against my fingers. “Damn,” I shook my head. Whatever had stuck in my throat was gone. “I can’t think about that right now…” Time to read a book. “Jason.” I looked up from my notes and rubbed my face, trying to chase away the Monday-grog. Ms. Buxley stood in front of me with her arms folded over her black suit jacket, expecting an answer. “Yes ma’am?” I asked politely. I could feel the eyes of my classmates on my back. “Given the choice between a small short-term loan and a big long-term loan, which would you prefer?” “Well, like anything, that depends on circumstance,” I started slowly. “But from a bank’s perspective, I would prefer giving-out the big long-term loans because that’s going to pay-off interest for a long time, so that’s guaranteed income while I handle other things…” “But it’s not guaranteed income,” Jeiny interrupted. “What if they can’t make the payments?” “That might happen, but probably not. The loan’s recipient will want to pay it back and they’ll do it if they can.” The faintest hint of a smile traced itself on Buxley’s lips. “You have a lot of faith in people to pay their loans back.” “Not really,” I shrugged. “It’s just not my top priority.” “It should be, if you’re running a bank.” “Well… my bank has invested in stocks, so it has other sources of income.” “Fascinating,” Ms. Buxley finally did smile as the rest of the room filled with the sound of titters. “Well, on that note, let’s start guiding the discussion to the next page in the text…” Barely ten steps out of the classroom, my mind returned to the task at hand: how to use the feasting ring. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten how it worked, but I needed to figure out how to use it without getting caught. The Water Bottle Trick taught me that girls would almost always turn down food if I tried giving it to them. That meant that I had to place the food somewhere without anyone knowing it was my food. I reached the end of the hallway and followed the crowd of female students through the swinging doors to the outside. Could I make and place food in the chow hall? Surely not; someone would see me using the ring… My phone vibrated in my pocket. Odd… I hadn’t fed anyone lately, so why would I get a notification now of all times? When I brought the screen to my face, my skin went cold. It wasn’t the fattening app, it was an email. Come to the Dean’s office ASAP.
  9. >_< 0_0

    Mia Khalifa

    What? Her privacy is suspiciously evading us? It IS! I see no sign of it -- but she has taken about two dozen ring-selfies, which are nice
  10. >_< 0_0

    The Thin College

    This will require some extensive, intimate experimentation 😈 This is just the tip of one massive, treacherous iceberg— the kind of iceberg that flips and tosses itself without warning ⚠️
  11. >_< 0_0

    Mia Khalifa

    Watching her content on Instagram, I have found that she has no filter -- she says everything she's thinking out loud! Everyday she posts, like, dozens of pictures and vids. It's one of the reasons people like her so much 😘
  12. >_< 0_0

    Fiancé losing weight :(

    Sometimes sex is an afterthought -- like when you have to marry your daughter to the grandson of the Castillian King so that you`re technically third in line to the throne of Navarre.
  13. >_< 0_0

    Fiancé losing weight :(

    Give her a nice, long, relaxing honeymoon 😍 be sure to pamper her! You’ll be with her for a long time! You’ll be surprised how much her body will transform and you’ll love it!
  14. He’s very dialogue heavy for a comic artist, but I am also watching his work intently 😳
  15. >_< 0_0

    Battle Fat

    Rather short, but I’m curious where this will go
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