#and if you genuinely just hate it with no shred of love for even miss ashley stillons

[bug4932]

if you like the characters and picking out the parts that work ward is a lot of fun actually. there are genuine and valuable criticisms of it but the culture about it is getting kinda weird. love a solid post unpacking the problems or making jokes about it but if your instinctual reaction to seeing other people talk about ward is to feel upset and/or join the conversation to talk about how its the absolute worst you might want to consider if you would feel better blacklisting the tag

if youre curious about ward give it a try. its always gonna be a lot cooler and easier online for people to make fun of something; maybe you like it better than you expect. or maybe its awful. you can always stop reading

[dtmsrpfcringe]

We don't hate women. We hate women who are abusive towards their partners.

Michael and David both deserve better and just because you want to buy into what PR and social media tells you, you don't have to attack other people for being upset over actors they care about possibly not being happy.

David wouldn't leave Georgia, they are married and have children, so he feels responsible. He always puts other people before himself. And Anna played it well with the babies, as harsh as it sounds. Michael would feel terrible leaving the girls. People staying in relationships doesn't prove you right, sadly. It's no sign of anything other than commitment and commitment doesn't always come from a place of love.

By saying that Michael and David shippers want to see them unhappy in their relationship, you show that you're missing the point. The whole point of shipping them is wanting them to be happy. You just want to be hateful towards people who don't suppprt your narrative, it seems.

GOD I WISH TUMBLR WOULD LET ME ADD TEXTS BEFORE ASKS SO I COULD SAY “Warning: you’re about to hear one of the most moronic takes I have ever heard” *insert gif of amanojaku from ghost stories here* okay let’s…we have to break this down it’s too much for me to just laugh at and go “wow this is dumb as hell”

“We don’t hate women, we just make up stuff so we can justify hating them”- you. where’s…where’s any shred of proof that either women are even a little bit abusive? I mean don’t you think we would have seen some of that by now? And no, enty lawyer doesn’t count as proof and neither does random screenshots of a bit of text with zero context. Also neither do jokes online with your partner when they’re okay with it (and make the same jokes quite literally all the time) and nobody sees a problem with it except the people that conveniently hate these women.

2. “Michael and David both deserve better” yes I’m sure the rich white middle aged men who are two of the most popular actors in their countries who have girlfriends/wives and kids who love and adore them are surely hurting because some weirdo on tumblr says it.

3. Hate to tell you this but married people with children divorce all the time. It’s not like if they divorce he is going to suddenly vanish in a puff of smoke babe.

4. Even if that’s true, your theory of him only staying out of responsibility is bullshit. Someone who stays for the kids isn’t going to dip their wife into a kiss on the red carpet and look at her like a hozier song sounds. If there’s any event or interview where he can find a way to praise Georgia, he does it. He always talks about her. After events they’ve been seen kissing deeply and walking arm in arm honeymoon style.

5. as for Anna and Michael, (David and Georgia too but they seem more open to pda) they don’t owe you pda. Michael has been more than adamant about defending his girlfriend on twitter and good for him about it.

6. if you guys were genuinely concerned with Michael and David’s impending relationship crashes, why is it always tied to their love for one another? The only people who see This rampant “abuse and unhappiness” is this group of people who believe David and Michael are actually in love and want to elope together. Nobody else. Not even other Sheenant shippers. You guys literally just hate them, I mean Invisibleicewands has been talking shit on Anna since she posted her first photo with Michael back in 2019 and hasn’t stopped.

7. “And Anna played it well with the babies, as harsh as it sounds.” seriously what the absolute crap is this supposed to mean my dude? I’ve gotta be honest….you know how smex works right? Michael could absolutely choose to use protection!!! Why is it on her? Not on him. He’s had kids before I think he knows that a stork doesn’t bring the baby. Holy hell you people make my eyes hurt

8. (finally) funny you should bring up narratives, you know considering you’re part of the group that thinks any affection towards anybody else that isn’t them is PR (thinking of the Joseph Fiennes hug fiasco) that lied about Georgia and Anna being abusive, that has tried time and time again and moved the goalpost, that fabricates evidence and tries to send death threats to people who speak out, and then lie about it, that your group is the one who can’t handle women working together and have to call everything PR. The same group that ignores the fact that Anna and Georgia are friends, to talk grave shit on them. Newsflash sweetheart, we aren’t the ones pushing the narrative here. You only want to see David and Michael happy as long as it aligns with your delusion. Have the day you deserve.

anyways, I think this is going to be my pinned post. Mostly because I want this to be embarrassing if you ever try to come back here and lie on Betty whites internet again, but also because I think this addresses so many tin hat talking points at once. Just because we love aziraphale and crowley doesn't mean we get the right to insert ourselves into their personal lives, you wouldn't want someone else praying for your relationship to fail.

[kingofpopmj]

Conscious Decision

Part 8

July 21st, 1988

*Y/N’s POV*

I felt myself sinking deeper into the mattress the longer I laid here. I couldn’t bring myself to move let alone open my eyes. I had just spent a fourth night sleeping alone after our wedding day— well what should’ve been. Now, more than ever I felt the most connected to him. I could feel his sadness, pain and fear. It felt like a malicious joke. It’s been four whole days without him, yet the hold he had on my heart and mind was stronger than ever. He had me even though I was fighting it, but that was a joke too, because I wasn’t putting up much of a fight anyway.

“Do you want to join the girls and I today? We’re going into town.” Janet jumped onto my bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I think I would much rather lay here all day. The sun is too bright and the birds are singing too loud. Who was that on the phone?”

“I’m glad to see you’re still as optimistic as ever. Y/N, you know who it was.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, playing with the ends of her hair. “Come on. You can’t stay in the room another day. You have to get out. Come with us, it’ll be fun!”

“The phone has been ringing nonstop for hours. That was all him?”

“Yes. Can we change the subject now?”

“What did he say?” I rolled onto my side, staring at her impatiently.

“Okay, we’re still on this. This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think me telling you everything that little twerp said will help.”

“It’s that bad?”

“No. I mean it’s the usual, he wants me to tell you all this mushy stuff and he’s asking when he can see you. He doesn’t sound too good.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I’m just so mad at him.” I huffed, sitting up and crossing my legs. I didn’t want to go on like this much longer. I don’t want to be angry anymore.

“I know.”

“I love him.” I let out a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to cry again.

“Yeah, no shit.” Janet rolled her eyes and for the first time in days I laughed with her. A genuine laugh and it felt amazing.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Do you want to see him?” She crossed her arms, staring at me with a weird look on her face.

“Yes, but I don’t know if I should want to see him.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“That depends. Is it mean?”

“No! I’m never mean!” She flung her legs to hang off the side of the bed, exhaling dramatic as ever, “We all know this isn’t the end. What he did was— he’s an ass for doing it, but he hasn’t really had the chance to explain. I mean no damn explanation will ever make up for it— he’s still an idiot, but maybe it’ll give you the necessary closure to move forward together or move on separately. You guys are going to move on from this one way or another, because even though my brother is king of the fools and doesn’t deserve you— I mean seriously you’re so out of his league he’s lucky you even look his way. I swear the fucking nerve. You’re the whole damn package and he ain’t shit— he’s lucky he met you when you were kids. He had years to soften you up. Now, you see his goofiness as endearing, instead of what it truly is. A big ass red flag!” She took a deep breath, before going on. “Anyways, for some insane reason he won you over. You love him. And as much as I hate him right now, I have to cut his the tiniest shred of slack. Michael doesn’t have much— well any experience with relationships, he’s never tried to understand them for anyone but you. It’s unknown territory. He’s never cared enough about a person to explore a relationship. No one measured up because there is only one you. You’ve had his heart since the beginning— his stupid little heart. In his mind, the definition of love is you. Love equals Y/N. That’s the only way it’s comprehensible to him— the only way it’s real in his eyes. Besides this, he’s done a decent job being your guy— I mean this was a huge deal, it was your fucking wedding, so maybe that erases all the things he did right. I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet.” She stood up, walking back and forth along the rug, her arms waving in the air as she spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s got his crusty little nails dug into you and he’s not going to let go. Not without a fight and I’m telling you as his little sister, Michael can take a lot of hits. He won’t give up easily. I don’t know what he’d do if he lost you and honestly I’m hoping I don’t have to find out, but I’ll support you in whatever you decide. I believe he’s truly sorry. Maybe you’ll feel better when you hear his side. I think, if you really want to see him, you should.”

“Wow. That was the sweetest, meanest thing you’ve ever said about Michael.”

“I try.” She shrugged, giggling at her own sarcasm.

“What time are you leaving? Should I call him?”

“In an hour. Relax. That little fool will call again and when he does I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind too just to scare him.”

“Janet.”

“I’m going to tell him you packed up and went back home.” She laughed like a hyena, jumping off the bed only to fall over. “Oh, he’d probably cry.”

“Please don’t make him cry.”

“What! You did! Why can’t I?” An uncomfortable silence followed and her expression shifted along with it. “Shit. I’m sorry that was too soon.”

“It’s okay. I just— it sucks that this is our reality.”

“It’ll take time, but this will all be worth it in the end. It’ll be—” The telephone rang loudly as we stared at each other, slowly directing our attention to the piercing noise. “I’ll get that.” She smiled, looking over at me one last time. “Are you sure?” She asked with her palm resting on the telephone.

“Yes. I’m positive.”

*Michael’s POV*

“Michael.” My younger sister’s annoying voice came from the other end.

“Hi.” Suddenly, I was very aware of how many calls I’ve made to this number, but I didn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it.

“So, what’s up?” She was teasing me, I could imagine her at this very moment, smiling deviously with her hand on her hip.

“My blood pressure. How— how is she?”

“The same as she was fifteen minutes ago.”

“Okay.”

“How are you?” Her tone changed, I could tell she was being sincere. “Brother, you can talk to me, are you okay?”

“No.” I answered honestly. “I ruined everything. I thought I knew why. I thought it was the right thing. I just wanted to protect her. I don’t know how to exist knowing that any second I could lose the one person that makes it— that gives my existence purpose.”

“Damnit Michael.” She huffed loudly.

“What? What is it?”

“I’m trying to be mad at you right now and you go say that?” I could hear her pacing as she let out a sad chuckle. “Now, you have me crying like a baby. You know what, you shouldn’t be allowed to talk. Let me be mad at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re so annoying. Always saying the perfect thing. You damn poet.”

“I’m—”

“She’s in the shower.” Janet quickly interrupted me. “She’s getting ready.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good she’s going to get out and do something. She deserves to be happy.”

“Michael, listen to me and listen carefully. Y/N is really fragile right now. She’s strong, but that doesn’t mean she’s indestructible. What happened— what you did, it messed her up. It’s triggered things in her that I don’t think she even knew existed. She’s cried so much, I didn’t know it was humanly possible to produce that many tears. You freaking jerk. Seriously, I don’t even— I love you, but damn I’m really struggling to be nice to you right now. I don’t understand why you did this, but I’m not the one you owe that explanation to. Michael, I want to help, but in order to do that I’m gonna need you to get your head out of your ass. I’ll do everything I can to help you get your girl back. Let me help you, no more stupid shit. It’s going to be difficult, but I believe it’s possible to get past this. It’s possible if you don’t go rouge again. You only get one chance with me. Brother, I promise, you so much as breathe in the wrong direction and I’ll knock you on your ass.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry, I truly am. I wish I could do it all over again and do it right. Thanks, you saying it���s possible for us to get past this is the best thing I’ve heard in days. I’ll be good I swear, I wouldn’t want to feel the wrath of Janet.” I rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the tickle in my throat. “You should take her to The British Museum or St. Paul’s Cathedral, she’d love those. I can make a few calls and get you guys a tour guide or passes. Whatever you guys need.”

“Okay, on one condition.”

"You’re a pain in my ass. What’s the condition?"

"You should be the one to take her."

“She doesn’t want to see me. I’d ruin her day. I’ll be lucky if she ever wants to see me again.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. Why else do you think she’s getting ready?”

“Are you being serious? Because this would be a really mean joke.” I sprung up from my previous position, kicking off the layers of covers weighing me down. “We’ve been on the phone for ten minutes and you’re just now telling me?”

“Yes.”

“She really wants to see me?” This must be what Christmas morning feels like.

“She really does.”

“She really does?”

“Yes. Okay, I have one more thing to say. Michael, I love you and I love Y/N. I love both of you so damn much, together and as individuals. You guys getting together is— it was so awesome. She’s been family for so long. We were all excited when you two finally made it work. I don’t know it just felt like, you know, like it all fell into place. Fuck, this is hard. Look, I’ll do whatever I can to lead you two back to one another, because right now it’s evident that you both want that, but I’m going to do whatever is best. So, if I get even a sliver of a feeling that Y/N doesn’t want this, no matter how much it’ll hurt, I’ll support her. If she decides at any point she needs to walk away from you, I’ll be there for her. That’s never going to change. I’ll be here for both of you, just separately.”

“I understand.”

“Okay.”

“I have to get ready. It's actually such a relief that it’ll be the three of us.” I said, the nerves were quick to take over my body as I tried to think of what to say to her. What can I say to her? Janet being there will definitely take the edge off.

“Is thirty minutes enough time for you?”

“I could get ready in five minutes with the way I’m feeling right now.”

“Good. Oh, by the way, this morning mom and the girls invited Y/N and I to go out with them. It’s a nice day to do some sightseeing, don’t you think? Yeah. Well, I’m still going with them, so it’ll just be the two of you. Y/N’s expecting you to pick her up from my room. Don’t be late! Bye!” She spoke so fast I could barely process it.

“Wait!—”

“Gotta go! Kisses!”

She giggled wickedly, hanging up on me without another word. I swear she lives to watch me squirm. I dropped the phone and watched as it hung by the wire, bouncing up and down before stopping all together. I rubbed my eyes as I got out of bed for the first time in four days. My room, that was once our room, was dark and stuffy and to my mother’s dismay I refused to let her tidy up. It looked like how I felt on the inside. I deserved to be surrounded by darkness and disarray. My body ached as I dragged my feet over to the bathroom, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up which felt like an eternity.

My mind wandered to Y/N, stepping into the tub felt so lonely, everything felt empty without her. I never truly understood how integral she was to my life. I don’t have many friends, many people I can trust, she’s the small piece of normalcy in my life. 

“I’m not sure where you go from here, but you’re going to have to accept the fact that it’ll be without her.”

My brother’s words echoed in my head as I felt that sensation, the one that has quickly taken control of me often since that day. The one I couldn’t escape regardless of how hard I fought.

The sound of blood pounded in my ears. My heart collided against my chest with force. My hands began trembling beyond control. My vision growing more distorted, I tried to blame it on the steam from the shower, but I knew better. I had to get away. I couldn’t stay stuck in this bathroom any longer. I needed out.

I unintentionally ripped the curtain off the rod while reaching for my towel. I leaned against the cold tiled wall, fighting to fill my lungs with air. I was almost there. I can do this. All I had to do was breathe. If I held on a little longer I’d see her. I’d be with her soon if I just held it together. I can do this. The tightness in my chest, loudly told me otherwise. Shit. Quickly, stumbling over furniture to reach the phone, I dialed numbers, in the same order that I had been for the past few days. Maybe, I need to hear her voice. That’s it. That’s what I need. I just need to hear her voice and that’ll help ease my mind. That’ll help me breathe. The phone didn’t ring long and that voice filled my ears. The voice that consumed my thoughts and dreams the past four days. The voice I couldn’t function without.

“Hello?”

It’s her. It’s Y/N.

My Y/N.

*Y/N’s POV*

I lifted my purse, hanging it off of my shoulder as I contemplated which heels to wear. It was almost embarrassing how emotional it felt to see him again. As hurt as I was, I think I missed him more. I knew I missed him more. The phone rang obnoxiously, startling me, yet still, I practically danced over to it. Thankfully, Janet had already left or else I would never hear the end of it. I was confident that I’d hear his sweet voice on the other end and as much as I didn’t want to admit it out loud. I couldn’t wait.

“Hello?”

I held the phone close to my ear, waiting to hear him.

“Hello? Michael, is that you?” A deep rooted emotion began to flood my senses. One that I hadn’t felt in a long time, one that I had hoped I’d never feel again.

“Michael?” The faint sound of wheezing was the only response I got. It was all I needed.

I didn’t think twice. I didn’t say anything else. I took off in a sprint. As fast as I was moving it still felt too slow. When I reached the stairwell, the images from years ago flashed through my mind. As my hands gripped the cold steel railings, I remembered the feeling of the shattered pieces I cleaned off the floor that night. The damp remnants left on my shoulder from his tears all those years ago, causing my body to run cold at the memory.

Finally, I reached his level, running down the hall and colliding with his front door. I was so worried I forgot to slow down. My hands struggled with the zipper of my purse, so I tore it open and dumped its contents onto the floor. The small silver key called to me. I yanked it off the patterned carpet, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

I didn’t have to walk much further into the room before my eyes landed on him. Michael, curled up in a fetal position, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair clinging to his face.

“Hey.” I whispered, gently touching his head. “I’m here. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” I sat beside him as he pulled himself into my lap, his head resting on my thighs and I stroked his hair. “Just breathe. I’m here.”

“I— I ca— can’t.” The sadness in his voice tugged at my heart. I’d never heard it so broken before. I could tell he was scared. My presence wasn’t enough, he needed a little more.

“Focus on my voice.” I spoke calmly, lying down next to him. “Remember that night we snuck out to go camping?”

He didn’t respond, I didn’t expect him to. He had a strong hold on me as we laid close to one another. I could feel how lost he was in his thoughts. I needed to bring him back to me.

“I was so excited walking over to your house that night. I’ll never forget seeing you jump out of your bedroom window, you fell right on your butt. When you saw me, you shot up to your feet and acted like it didn’t hurt, you insisted that you were fine even though you were limping.”

This time I felt a slight nod from Michael, so I continued on.

“You brought the blankets and I brought the snacks. We had prepared all week for that night. I couldn’t wait to be with you, I wanted to stay up all night just to spend more time together. You spent four hours wrestling with the tent, because it wouldn’t stay up, you were so mad. We ended up sharing a sleeping bag and lying directly on the grass with no shelter, so we had a nice view of the sky. It worked out if you ask me, it’s the reason I love stargazing. You knew how much I loved s’mores, so you built a little fire in that empty soup can. It worked for a while too, until you—”

“It was you.” He spoke, gently interrupting my storytelling.

“Michael, we go over this every time. You kicked it.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but you knocked it over reaching for the marshmallows.”

“Agree to disagree.” I laughed at our refusal to accept blame.

“You’re barefoot.”

“I wasn’t finished getting ready when you called. Then, I heard you, so I dropped everything and ran. I tried to get to you as fast as I could.”

“You got here at the perfect time.” He assured me, his voice was soothing as I felt his smile against my forehead. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I was so nervous that night. I used some of Jackie’s aftershave, I had Janet help me fix my hair and Latoya dressed me. That was going to be the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was going to tell you how I felt. How I truly felt.”

“Really?” I adjusted my head to see his face. He smiled back at me, resting his back flat on the floor and pulling me to rest on his chest.

“I had my speech memorized.” I looked down, studying the ring on my finger, all the while I felt his eyes on me. “I was going to start off by telling you what an incredible best friend you are, how beautiful, kind and loving you are. How I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

“We were thirteen.” I whispered.

“Yeah, we were, but I already knew.” I calmly started to move away from him, but he stopped my movements. “Y/N, I love you. I always have. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Michael—”

“I don’t want to live my life without you.” I closed my eyes as I felt him touch my cheek, his fingers were soft and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Old habits die hard. “I can’t live without you.” He murmured, all my worries melted away, long enough to feel how well we fit together. The tenderness of his lips sparked a warmth in my heart and an urgent need throughout my body. Our connection grew stronger the further we went. I looked up at him, watching him settle in between my legs. He placed his hand on my denim covered thigh, inching up to unbutton my bottoms. The effect of his touch quickly shifted, unleashing a wave of anxiety rather than pleasure.

“Y/N, look at me.” Janet grabbed my shoulders, giving me no choice, but to stop avoiding reality.

“He’s really not coming.” I spoke softly, I sounded lifeless. “I can’t believe he did this. How could he do this?”

Michael lingered above me, his lips curved slightly before I felt them on my neck and that’s when it hit me.

“Where were you?” I asked him.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. And, I’m so sorry for being late.”

“You stood me up on our wedding day. I’d hope it would matter a little bit.”

I felt my body tense up as his moved against mine. Michael slowly pushed my top down my shoulder, hooking his finger underneath my bra strap. I became extremely aware of where this was going and it consumed me with panic.

I’m suffocating.

“Michael—”

“I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Michael. Wait. Stop!” I pushed him off of me harder than I intended to. It was abrupt, taking me by surprise as well. I felt like I was drowning and for the first time, Michael wasn't my life line.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Oh?” He readjusted his towel and looked at me as if he was asking me to explain further.

“Michael, I think I need time. We can’t act like it didn’t happen.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to go change and get some shoes on.” I smiled at him half-heartedly, gesturing to the wet splotches now littering my outfit.

“Sorry, I dripped all over you.” He let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright—”

“Wait.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, keeping me from escaping the awkward tension in the air. “Nothing I say, nothing I do is ever going to fix this, is it?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I think we have a better chance than most.” I whispered, trying to ease the pain of this situation.

“Can we still spend the day together?”

“I’d really like that.”

*Michael's POV*

Y/N met me in the lobby after she had left to change her outfit. I was speechless. Wow. She looked breathtaking. A long lacy black dress hugged her curves, it had an open neckline and see through sleeves that covered her arms. I could not stop staring as she walked over to me. Although, it felt more like she was floating. Wow. She paired it with deep red heels that matched the color of her lipstick. A black hat resting on top of her head, shielding her face if she looked down just enough.

“Hi.” She stood in front of me and still I couldn’t find the words. 

“You– I– Wow. Hi.” 

“Are you okay? We can stay in if you don’t feel up to going out. I know the panic attacks are—.” She whispered with a small comforting smile.

“No. No. I just– Wow. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.” Her fingers traced the red band around my arm. “I love that you still wear these.” 

“I’ll always wear them. They remind me of you.” Y/N smiled, curling her fingers around my bicep as we exited the lobby.

The journey to the museum was uneventful. It was full of meaningless conversation and heart wrenching glances. When we arrived I did my best to look as normal as possible, instinctively, my hand rested on Y/N’s lower back, keeping her close to me. Old habits die hard. We were ushered through a side door and I was able to make arrangements, so we had a whole wing of the museum to ourselves. I knew she’d love it. I couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

I gave Bill a subtle nod, swiftly he fell back, giving Y/N and I more privacy as we roamed. I admired the way her eyes scanned the canvas before us, the way she nibbled at her bottom lip as she tried to understand it and most importantly how close she stood to me. Our arms brushed one another, breathing in her perfume made it seem like it would all be okay.

"Thank you for bringing me here. Wow, look at this one. I love it." The deep colors of the painting in front of us, matching perfectly with her outfit. Again, I was watching her more than the art.

“I love you.”

“I lo—Me too.” She smiled sweetly, her hands clasped together in front of her as she walked over to the sculptures. I noticed how she couldn’t say those words back to me, although it hurt, I couldn’t blame her. As much as I wanted to hold her hand I knew she needed distance, but I couldn’t let her forget that I was going to fight for her.

“Y/N, I’m so in love with you. I need you to understand that.”

“Michael, I know. You’ve been reminding me all day.”

“I believe it’s nice to hear. You deserve to hear it. I enjoy reminding you.”

“Okay, that’s very sweet. Thank you.”

“I guess some people don’t enjoy professing their love like I do.” I snapped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stopped walking and turned to me, her left eyebrow arched as she waited for an answer.

"It means that I've been pouring my heart out to you and the only response I get from you is 'I know' or 'thank you’. What's going on, Y/N, do you not love me anymore?"

"Jesus Michael."

"Well, what is it? What else should I do? Do you not want to be with me anymore? Do you want me to take you back to the hotel? Right now, I feel like I’m the only one trying to fix this."

"You're the one who broke it!"

"Y/N, baby—”

"Don't call me that!" She pointed at me as her bottom lip quivered. No. Please don’t cry. I can’t handle seeing you cry.

“You think I don’t know that I caused this?”

“This was a bad idea.” She shook her head, spinning on her toes and quickly walking towards the exit. “I can’t believe I thought—”

“No, it wasn’t! No! Talk to me.” I ran to catch up to her, grabbing her arms and standing in front of her.

“Michael—”

“Tell me why you’re shutting me out!”

“I don’t want to do this here.”

“Tell me!”

“Michael, stop—”

“Talk to me damnit!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Our voices bounced off the walls, I could feel the anger in her words. She hated yelling, arguing wasn’t her way. Y/N always preferred to talk things through, so I took a deep breath and spoke.

“The only way we can fix this is to talk about it. I want to fix this. I need to fix this.”

“You didn’t show up.” She said simply, her eyes not meeting mine.

“I know.” My grip on her arms loosening as I watched her contemplating what to say next.

“It felt like our wedding meant nothing to you. It didn’t matter. I didn't matter. You just vanished and you made me feel so rejected. That was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. I don’t understand why you did it.” Her cheeks now damp with tears as she fought to contain herself.

"I'm sorry. Y/N, I know I caused this. I know these are the consequences of what I did— I hate knowing I did this to you— It’s on me. You can’t say it— you can’t tell me you love me because I left on what should’ve been the most important day of our lives. I did that. I did it and I hate myself— I hate that you can barely look at me, but it’s my fault. I regret it with my whole heart. I should’ve shown up. I should’ve done it right. I should’ve made you my wife. I should’ve— I wish I did and I'm so sorry. I know I deserve it, I know I deserve for you to walk away for good but I’m still so afraid to lose you."

"The reason I haven't said it back isn't because I don’t love you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you hurt me Michael. You hurt me in a way I never thought was possible. It was an unbearable pain that I never thought I'd have to endure, especially from you. That night, I didn't want to see you ever again, I thought I hated you, but you came to see me anyway. Once I saw you I forgot about that pain, I forgot about how angry I was, because all I wanted to do was run to you. All I wanted was for you to hold me and to forget everything that happened. Once I saw you, all was forgiven and when I heard your voice I was yours again."

"That's good. Right?"

"You don't understand." She shook her head, turning away from me, but I stopped her.

"Then explain it to me. Please."

"I love you so much that I'd forgive you without an apology, without an explanation. I love you so much that I'd accept pain as long as it meant that I'd still have you. I love you so much that l'd— I love you so much that I've allowed you to string me along all our lives."

“Y/N.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve hurt my heart.” She wrapped her arms around her waist as if to hold herself together.

“Y/N, this is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I know that, but we have both hurt each other in the past. Maybe I’ve caused you more pain, but that doesn’t negate the pain I’ve felt.“ Once the words left my lips I regretted it. She’s never hurt me.

“Well, maybe we should just walk away now, try to save our friendship before it’s too late.”

“I don’t want to go back to that. You don’t want that. I can’t. Y/N, you’re who I belong with. It has always been us.”

“I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. We couldn’t survive anymore pain. We couldn’t. Even as friends.”

“Y/N, I need you to believe me. I rather slit my wrists than cause you pain. I will never hurt you again.”

“Again.” She muttered, “It used to be I will never hurt you. Period.” She uncrossed her arms, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“I know.”

“Michael, I’m so afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I’m afraid of forgiving you, but I’m petrified of not forgiving you.”

“Y/N—”

“Why?” She interrupted me, her lips sucked in between her teeth. She was struggling to keep herself from falling apart in front of me.

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“I— I’m not sure.”

“Michael, please, answer the question.”

“I guess there were many reasons.”

“Many?” Her voice sounded helpless as she stepped further away from me. I never knew it was possible to see someone visibly crumble until now.

“Please. Baby— I mean Y/N, please don’t cry.”

“What were the reasons?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Then, I’m leaving.”

“Stop! Please, stop walking away from me.” I ran, blocking her path, my hands cupped her face gently. “I know you don’t want to leave. I know you don’t mean it. I know you.”

“Yeah, you know me so well.” She rolled her eyes out of frustration, lifting her chin up and away from my grasp.

“Y/N, what do I need to do?”

“Please, just explain it to me, tell me the reasons.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. “Why not?”

“Because I’m trying to fix us, not break us.” I tried holding her hand, surprisingly she let me.

“What does this look like to you? We’re already pretty broken.”

“Exactly. I don’t—”

“I need to know why in order to move forward. I need to know, so I can let it go. I need to know so I can try to forgive you.”

“I don’t see how that will help, it’s like you want me to hurt you. All day, you’ve kept me at a distance. You’ve barely looked at me. Have you thought about how that makes me feel?”

“Are you really trying to compare standing me up on our wedding day to me trying to figure out how to forgive you?”

“Are you trying to hurt me on purpose? Is this your way of getting back at me? Getting even?”

“If you truly think I’d do something like that, plan to hurt you as a way of evening out the playing field then you don’t know me like I thought you did. If that’s what you think, then we shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“It’s not. Y/N, I know you would never do that.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“Because I’m frustrated. I fucked up. Okay? I really fucked up. I ruined this and I’m struggling to ignore the possibility of not being able to fix it.”

“Me too.”

“At least there’s one thing we agree on.”

“Yeah, little victories.” She smiled weakly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“It’s difficult being so close to you yet feeling so damn far away.”

“Mhm.”

“I wish I could jump on my bike and ride down to Burger Grill. Your go-to order, a big bag of fries, a milkshake with extra whipped cream and cuddles from your favorite guy. When we were kids, that used to fix everything.”

“Yeah, but we aren’t kids anymore.” She pressed her hand against her belly as she attempted to calm her breathing. “Michael, I can’t jump back in right away. I want to fix this it’s just— I feel so vulnerable. I don’t want to feel pain like that ever again. It’s nerve wracking being with you, but I’m trying. I really am. I want to be close to you but my mind won’t let me. I think— I don’t know— It’s like everything inside of me is at war. My heart hurts, but wants you, wants to forgive you. My body aches, but wants to be held by you—” I knew if I let her go on she’d end up inconsolable.

“I didn’t show up because I want you to be happy. More anything in my entire life I want the best for you. I want you to enjoy life and never have to experience anything less than pure joy. I want you to have freedom. You said you needed to know, so here it is. When I was with Frank that day, he went on this rant about how your life was going to change and I wasn’t preparing properly.”

“Okay.” She gently squeezed my hand encouraging me to go on.

“He was right. You’ll be my wife. That’s all. You won’t be able to work and I know how much you love your job. You won’t be able to make a simple trip to the grocery store or anywhere really at least not by yourself and I know how much you value your independence. You won’t have any freedom. Your privacy will be gone in an instant.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not easy. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because those damn parasites were following you. The thought of you being dragged through the mud to the extent that I am— that thought killed me.”

“You could’ve come to me. We could’ve discussed it. Michael, I would’ve understood.”

“I know.”

“Why did you think that the solution was to not show up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because!” I yelled again. This is not going the way I thought it would.

“Because what!” She snatched her hand away from mine, looking back at me like I wasn’t me anymore, like I was a stranger.

“Because I knew if I showed up, I knew if I saw you— I knew that we would be married right now. I can’t think straight when it comes to you. Damnit, Y/N, I’m selfish when it comes to you. I needed to think about it. I needed more time. I know now that I shouldn’t have let Frank get in my head. I should’ve shown up and married you like we planned. I should’ve married you that day because that’s all I’ve wanted my whole life. I’ve always wanted you. I will always need you. I was so in my head that day, scared to do the wrong thing and I ended up making the worst decision. I always try to do what’s best for you. I’ve always put you first. Everything I do is for you. Believe it or not, at the time, I stayed away for you.”

“Wow. My hero.” She turned to walk away from me. Again.

“Y/N! Stop! Damnit, you can’t ask me these questions and get pissed with my answer no matter what it is! That’s not fair!”

“You know what’s not fair! This!” She held up her left hand, the engagement ring, a bitter reminder of what never was. “It’s not fair that I can’t bring myself to take this off! It’s not fair that I made my peace with everything that came with being your wife. It’s not fair that I accepted how drastic my life would change and chose to embraced it because at the end of the day we were starting our new life together. It’s not fair that you didn’t think the positives of being together outweighed the negative like I did. It’s not fair— all the reasons that made me so excited to marry you, so sure you were my person, were the same ones you used to add to your list of reasons to run. That’s not fair!”

“You’re right. Shit, you’re right.”

“That’s the thing. Michael, I don’t want to be right. I want us, together, to be right. I don’t know how to do it. I want to fix it. I just don’t know where to start.”

“Y/N—” I spoke delicately, but didn’t get to finish my thought. I was cut off by her crashing into me, her head rested on my chest, her arms reluctantly wrapping around my waist. I didn’t allow myself to be shocked for too long. I held her with all I had, rubbing her back, gently swaying her and hoping this wasn’t the last time I’d ever hold her. “I think we need more of this. It could help.”

“Mhm.” Her gentle sniffles felt like a punch to the gut. “It’s not easy keeping you at a distance.”

“I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too. So much.” Her hands moved slowly up and down my back. This was nice. “Janet’s crazy.” She muttered.

“You’re barely realizing that?”

“I guess I’m late to the party. She’s the best though. She offered to steal all your left shoes and shrink your clothes.”

“She what?” I gasped as she laughed into my chest. It felt so good to have her close and to hear her laugh again.

“I haven’t taken her up on the offer yet.”

“Yet? Wow! How kind of you. I feel so protected.” We laughed, together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The melody of our laughter carried up to the tall ceilings of the building. We were surrounded by exquisite artwork from all over the world, yet I could not take my eyes off of her. I only wanted to admire her. My Y/N.

“I’ll always protect you.” Her tone serious and for the first time since everything went wrong, she looked back at me, her eyes as beautiful as I remember, lips parted slightly, skin glowing like the stars on a summer night. I found myself hypnotized. Carefully, I closed the space between us, becoming painfully aware of how deprived I was of her touch, desperate to taste her tongue and feel her lips.

“Michael?”

“Yes, what is it?” I asked cautiously, hoping we could live in this moment longer.

“You could never keep your lips to yourself.” She smiled, reaching down and intertwining our fingers. I sensed that she wasn’t quite comfortable with a kiss, so I settled on leaving one on her cheek.

“Would you consider spending more time with me tomorrow?” I asked, feeling nervous all the sudden.

“I think I can clear my schedule for that.” She teased.

“I have some work to finish up in the morning before the show. It'd be fun for you to join me.”

“Would it be acceptable for me to be there?”

“Of course! Come with me! You can see all the behind the scenes stuff. If you want— I’d like you there— I mean if you don’t want to— I want you to be— well if you—”

“Michael, I’d love to.”

“It’s for Moonwalker.” I spoke, looking down at my feet to hide my shy smile.

“No way! You’re finally making it? That’s incredible babe! I can’t wait to see it.” My heart fluttered at the nickname. I was sure it slipped out, but I’ll take it. Little victories.

"Thank you. It’s been incredible so far. The script has come together nicely and I’ve been able to get almost everything I’ve envisioned brought to life.”

“That’s so exciting. I can’t believe I’m engaged to, what is it a quadruple threat? What can’t you do?” The way she looked at me was out of this world. If we weren’t in a public place I would’ve been all over her.

“You’re making me blush.”

“Mhm.” She moved closer to me, her soft lips connecting with my jawline. Her movements were so soothing. My eyes fell shut as she planted small kisses down my neck.

“I could get used to this.” I joked, she giggled, gently pushing me away.

“You always had that about you.”

“What?”

“The talent of being so damn adorable that I forget why I was angry in the first place.”

“We’re going to make it.” The corner of my lip curved up as I stretched my arm out to grab a hold of her. “Y/N, we’re going to make it. We have to make it.”

“We will make it.” She responded softly, rubbing tiny circles into my wrist with her thumb.

We stood in an empty hallway, smiling at each other like two lovesick kids. It was a nice change. It was a moment filled with hope.

“I have a surprise for you.” An excited smile graced her face at my statement. I led her out to a small courtyard, where I’d set up a romantic lunch date for us.

“This is beautiful.” We walked down a small path surrounded by flowers and a small pond. She was practically jumping up and down. It was perfect.

“My lady.” I grinned, sliding out her chair for her.

“Why thank you.”

We sat enjoying our meal. I noticed Y/N had stopped eating a few minutes ago. She was in her head I could tell, so I did my best to let nature take its course. I couldn’t push her. I needed to let her work through it at her pace.

“Michael.”

“Yes?” She didn’t respond, instead she stood up from her seat and took a few steps over to my side of the table. “Y/N, is everything—” she paid no mind to my worry, carefully she sat on my thigh, her legs finding a place in between my own. Her arm slid across my shoulders, her gaze focused on me and a shy expression on her face.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Could you, could you kiss me?” She asked nervously, like she thought there was the slightest possibility I would say no. I’d never say no.

“Y—yes, of course.” Nerves I never knew existed were now running through me at an alarming rate. My hands were trembling as I placed them on her. The moisture in my eyes suddenly disappeared, making me blink rapidly which I’m sure looked anything but normal. I removed my hat, placing it on the table and taking an audible deep breath. I must have been taken way too long because she spoke up again.

“I’m sorry. It’s okay. If you aren’t comfortable.” She shifted her body away from me, so I wrapped my arms around her. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“No.” I pulled her into me, her back pressed up against my chest.

“No?” She turned slightly to look at me and that’s when I kissed her.

Our lips laced together, perfectly, but only for a moment. We parted slowly, the kiss obviously had her feeling the same way I did. This was where I was supposed to be. Our gaze unfaltering, heavy with emotion and conveying the longing we had for each other. At the same time, the space between us disappeared and our bodies melted into one another. Eagerly, I grabbed her by the back of her neck and smashed my lips onto hers. Our connection deepening as her hands found a place at the back of my head.

As my fingers sunk into her hips, everything else faded away.

The only thing that could separate us, the only thing that could disrupt this moment was a tornado or maybe an earthquake. Neither of us wanted to be the first to pull away. We didn’t want this moment to be cut short. We wanted to soak in every piece of it because it was glorious.

“Michael!”

“A few minutes of peace was too good to be true.” She smiled against my lips, her hand sliding down to my chest and clenching a fist full of my shirt.

“Damn Bill. Should I— yeah I’m going to fire him. We’ll never be interrupted again.” I kissed her again, harder this time. Her giggles being replaced by soft moans. Oh, shit. We’re about to do it in the courtyard of a museum.

“Michael!”

“Son of a—”

“There seems to be a problem. I’m sorry to interrupt—” he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at us suspiciously before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Kids, there are windows everywhere!” He started pointing them out all around us. “You’re outside! In broad daylight!Anyone could see you two!”

“It’s fine. We weren’t doing anything.” I shrugged, tickling Y/N’s hip discretely.

“Sure. You’ve got lipstick on boy!”

“Oops.” Y/N looked so embarrassed, reaching to retrieve a napkin to clean me up. “You kind of pull it off though.” She whispered.

“Seems you’ve been found out. We need to get going before it gets out of control.”

“Well, that was fun while it lasted.” I’ve become used to adjusting my expectations, it’s just hard when I’m not the only one affected by it.

“It was! Look on the bright side, there’s nothing that went unseen. We got to do it all.” She’s so positive it’s impossible for some of it not to rub off on me.

She had her arm firmly around my waist, mine draped across her shoulders as we reached the exit doors. There was nothing I hated more than arguing with her, but if it would bring us closer together I’ll make an exception.

"Wait! Back up." Bill shouted, he opened the door for us just to slam it shut immediately. He aggressively pulled it until he heard the click ensuring it was secure.

"What is it?" Y/N asked, reinforcing her grip on my hand.

"We've got a bit of a situation dollface." Bill's tone was familiar to me, but not to Y/N. “Change of plans. What do you want to do?”

"How many are there?" I was frustrated to say the least. This was supposed to be a nice day away from everything, just the two of us. “It can’t be that bad. Can we make it work?”

"Enough. No, I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I say we have Y/N walk out the main entrance by herself and we will get you out through the side entrance. They don’t know she’s here, so they won't bother her. She'll be safer if we split up."

"No. We're going out together."

"Michael, I don't think that's the best idea. You're playing with fire right now, son."

"Bill, she's my lady. I’m not sending her off on her own. She's safest right here. Next to me."

"Okay." Bill smiled proudly at my defiance. He had been furious at me, probably more so than anyone else. When I had him help me miss the wedding he refused to give me a moment of peace. He had lectured me for a whole six hours, saying I needed to man up and quit running away from the things I want. I never thought I’d see him that angry, I’d never given him a reason to be so disappointed in me. He repeated it over and over again, I had to stop making nonsense excuses to hide from good things in life or as he put it 'ruining my destiny.'

Damn, the old man, he was testing me. I guess I passed. Little victories.

“Let’s get out of here. Keep her close.” He shot me a stern look before leading the way outside. I nearly lost my balance when I took a step forward and Y/N didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes wide as she took in the chaotic scene we were about to walk directly into.

“I got you!” I shouted, so she could hear me over the commotion. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you!” I held her face in my hands, her hands gripped my wrists as she gave me a quick nod.

As we stepped through the threshold the number of people outside seemed to multiply. The screaming was deafening, my ears were vibrating and my teeth rattled uncontrollably. Y/N was struggling to stay on her feet beside me until I redirected her in front of me. People were reaching out to touch us and I could tell it was making her nervous. My hands firmly on her hips as our path shrunk significantly with each step. The crowd began pushing and pulling at us. I did everything in my power to comfort her, but it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Y/N spun around wrapping her arms tightly around me.

“What’s wrong?” I spoke into her ear as she hid her face in the crook of my neck.

“I can’t see. My eye, there’s something in it.” I quickly looked down, she leaned her head back, staring up at me. Oh, no. Her eye squeezed shut, a crimson stream flowing down the right side of her face, I watched in disbelief as the thick substance dripped off her chin and down her neck.

“You’re okay.” I tucked her face back into my neck, cradling her head with my arm. “Bill!” When he turned to glance at me I held up my blood stained hand. After that, our journey through the crowd was an anxiety filled blur. When we finally made it to the vehicle, Bill guided us inside cautiously, jumping in after us and slamming the door shut.

“I’m so sorry.” I collected all the napkins in sight, with shaky hands I put pressure on the wound. I couldn’t see anything, there was so much damn blood. She just stared at me blankly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell happened!” Bill roared, causing us both to jump.

“I don’t know.”

“I told you! I told you to keep her safe and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I did everything–”

“No you didn’t! You let her down again. You didn’t step up again. She deserves better!” 

“Please stop.” Y/N muttered.

“She trusted you to take care of her and again you hurt her! How could you let this—”

“Dammit, stop yelling at him!” Y/N’s voice reached an octave I had never heard before. She exhaled deeply, intertwining our fingers as she pulled me closer, her head resting on my shoulder. The warmth of her body sent shivers down my spine as she leaned against me. “Someone threw something. It isn’t his fault. It happened so fast. I didn’t even see it. Michael didn’t let me down, he never has.” It felt like her last sentence had deeper meaning. Whether that was her way of sending me message or not, she definitely sent one to those around us.

Her and I are a team. There’s no denying that.

“I’m sorry dollface.” Bill spoke as he concentrated his gaze out the window.

The vehicle hadn’t come to a full stop before Y/N grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her. I struggled to keep up, weaving through people, hopping over furniture. We barely made it into the elevator. Y/N was panting, incessantly hitting the button until the door began to shut just as we saw Bill trying to catch up with us.

“That was fun!” Her laughter filled the small space, she backed into the wall sliding down and holding her belly. I took a seat across from her, the way her cheeks shimmered under the flickering light had my full attention.

“It was.” I agreed, she studied my expression, stretching her arm out to press the emergency button. The familiar way the floor vibrated and that look in her eyes made me feel like I was on top of the world. She held her hand out to me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think you have a concussion.” I joked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. The blood made it seem worse, but I’m good. I promise.” She moved to rest on her knees in between my legs, beaming at me, unrushed and uninterrupted. Her fingers curled around mine. “I don’t have it in me to hate you Michael. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

“Neither have I.”

“Why is everything so complicated then?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

The cool steel wall pressed into my back, the warmth of her hands made my chest feel like it was set on fire, my eyes never leaving hers as she glanced down, studying my lips. Her guard slowly being let down the longer I held her. We sat there for what felt like hours, each second better than the last.

“You’re not an idiot.” Y/N’s voice sounded just above a whisper as our noses touched.

“I’ve made mistakes.” My voice cracking at my vulnerable position. “You do deserve better.”

“Michael–”

“I was kidding myself to think I’d ever be enough for you.”

“You made a mistake.” Her fingers traced the line of my jaw, keeping me from looking away. “It doesn’t mean you aren’t enough.” She mumbled, her shiny red lips communicated the rest.

She’s kissing me. She’s actually kissing me. My fingers were tangled in her silky hair as she tugged at my coat. I glanced at her briefly, she guided my hand to the zipper of her dress. Her skin was so soft, softer than I remember. Everything about her became even more beautiful than the last moment I spent with her. I can’t believe this is happening.

“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. I’m just happy being with you again.”

“Michael, look at me.”

“Yes?”

“I need you.” Her voice is like music to my ears. I remembered the day I had said those exact words to her in this very elevator. “I need you closer.” She melted into me. The warmth of her thighs squeezed around my torso as I felt every emotion she felt, her lips never parting from mine.

“You’re sure?” I mumbled into her mouth, hoping she didn’t pull away from me.

“I’m so sure.” She grunted, tearing my shirt open, the sound of the buttons shooting against the walls masked by echoes of pleasure.

“Wait.” I pulled away, reaching the emergency button, and the elevator began to carry us up again.

“What— oh my goodness.” Y/N jumped up, readjusting her dress, she moved to zip it up and that’s when I stopped her.

“I’d leave it undone.” The elevator paused at our floor, I picked her up quickly, running down the hall to the room. Y/N was laughing, gripping my back tightly as I squeezed at her thighs that were wrapped around me. She moved to suck on my neck and I nearly dropped her at the sudden feeling of her tongue. I pushed her against the wall, my lips finding hers while my free hand aggressively twisted the doorknob.

“Michael, open the door or I’m gonna take your pants off right here.” 

“I’m trying.” Her laugh grew louder and uncontrollable while she watched me fight with the door. “This damn door.” I put her down, using both hands to push the damn thing open.

“Michael–”

“I got it!” She clung to me as I moved us inside, locking the door behind us. 

“You’re cute.” I felt her say against my lips. Her arms wrapped tightly around me as I walked backwards, chuckling every time she apologized for stepping on my toes.

“You’re—” We tumbled backwards, the corner of the mattress catching my leg unexpectedly as I led the way to the bed. We landed on the floor, Y/N carefully rolled off of me, cuddling into my side. Now, here we are, on the floor. Again.   

She’s actually here. Her body pressed against mine. The rise and fall of her chest brought me a great sense of comfort, one that I had been stripped of in the last few days. I can’t mess this up. I can’t lose her. I can’t make any more mistakes.

“That was smooth.” She said in between her fits of laughter. “It looked like you did a backflip. Are you okay?”

“God, I missed your laugh.”

“I missed you.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Spending the day with me. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“My heart belongs to you. That never changed.” She placed a gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth, but it ended way too soon.

“I hope it never does.”

“It won’t” She whispered, then it happened again. She looked into my eyes and the world stopped. She slowly leaned down, her lips connecting with mine. She clenched her fingers around my collar, pulling me on top of her, spreading her legs open in one swift motion. My body began to shiver as I settled in between them. Her forehead scrunched up when I pulled away, she studied my face while touching my cheek lovingly. “What’s going on in there?” she lightly tapped my temple. A worried expression grew on her face.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” The whites of her eyes became more visible, her lips parted slightly as she obviously struggled with what to say next. “They’ll be brilliant. They’ll be beautiful. The more they inherit from you the better.”

I scanned every detail of her face, until her eyes captured my attention. I remember the first time I stared into them, I got lost, I became a sputtery mess. Her eyes enveloped me in a sense of warmth I’d never felt before. A sensation I only feel with her. Then, she smiled at me. My heart could barely take it, it pounded so hard I was sure she could feel it. I remember the first complement I gave her. “You’ve got a real pretty smile.” It slipped out, but I meant it. Oh, did I mean it! Y/N scrunched her nose and turned away when she nervously thanked me. She had me wrapped around her finger from that moment forward.

“That’s kind of— wait, are you saying you want to start trying for a baby?” Her voice was low and her expression difficult to read.

“I’d like to marry you first. That is, if you’ll still have me.”

The anticipation consuming me as I awaited her response was peaceful because I knew what the future entailed.

Our future.

Now, I truly understood and believed in the idea that sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.

[cruyuu]

Hey have you seen that one managa panel in the latest leaks where its sukuna just gently graeping yuuji's head as he just beats the shit outta him?

Theres a post on tumblr where it has it and like a powerscaler from twitter basically saying "is sukuna really tryna fuck up yuuji bc i would have personally sunken my nails into his skull" and uh... yeah the person has a point. Sukuna really is just gently holding Yuuji's head.

Like his actions seem both brutal yet... protective? For a man who 'hates' Yuuji he sure as hell is giving mixed signals during his fight against him.

I did, anon! The "holding gently" and "beating the shit out of" being in a single sentence together tho lmfao.

I'm glad people are starting to notice that these two are not just fighting because that is true. If they were truly fighting, the fight would've ended a long time ago and would've been way, way more serious than whatever this is. Atp, I don't even know what the hell they are doing. They're groping each other more so than causing any real damage, like I'm genuinely tired of them lmfao.

Ever since the start of this arc, we've got Sukuna gripping his waist and holding him like they're dancing (?), Yuuji clinging onto his arm like a koala, Sukuna smiling as he hugs him closer to his face and Dismantles him, Yuuji wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist and now... add the gentle head cradling as they throw punches at each other. Truly the fight of all time, isn't it? Just a bit of jujutsu (ft. a Domain Expansion not for ripping away Sukuna's soul but... talking with him and spending a day with him?) a lot of unnecessary touching (and gentleness), and hatred which is showcased by... gentle head holding?

Sure, Megumi is still in there so that explains why Yuuji would be holding back from damaging Sukuna too much and not tearing him limb from limb but still, that notion didn't stop him from nearly tearing his heart out in Chapter 260 nor does it explain why he wrapped his arms around his neck (like what was the purpose) so... yeah.

As for Sukuna... yeah, there's absolutely no way to explain his behavior at all.

With that hulking form which towers over Yuuji, you would think, since he hates him and wishes to see him gone (and especially since he knows Yuuji's punches are dangerous and need to be avoided), he'd be trying to put some distance between them. Like idk grab him by the leg and throw him away or just in general do something which is beneficial to him and act like Yuuji is as insignificant as he loves to yap that he is.

Well. Nope lmfao.

Somebody had said it is because they were one body before so they're unconsciously leaning into each other and cannot know of personal space and that headcanon is just a perfect way to explain this. They may "hate" each other but that longing to be close is winning the fight in this case. Isn't that sweet?

Like his actions seem both brutal yet... protective?

Ngl anon, Sukuna is brutal but this is as far away from his usual brutality as it can possibly be. Remember that this is a man whose CT is literally tearing something into shreds, who had cut a person in half, who had turned a literal teenager into little cubes for simply daring to attack him. That is Sukuna we were introduced to, the one who never gave a fuck about anyone and was pretty brutal. For him to be brutal now, he'd have to do something far worse than just throw a punch. Maybe finally start behaving like he feels? He claims he hates Yuuji and yet... doesn't fight him with visceral anger?

Ah... It's always something with these two lol. I'll miss them a lot.

[rainba]

Erased

TWs/Tags: yandere, violence, spoilers for Sumeru + angst

-------------------------------------------------------

He’s got you right where he wants you- your throat within his grip. He’s cackling maniacally with a freakish grin plastered on his face, but there’s also tears pouring out of his eyes. He looks like a beautiful, broken porcelain doll.

Under the cover of darkness, he chased you, grabbed you, and trapped you in the cage of his arms.

The way the moonlight illuminates your beautiful face drives him to insanity.

“I know you’ve forgotten me, you- you don’t know who I am at all… But…” He grits his teeth and sneers. “Tell me, what’s my name!? Say it!” He strangles you in a fit of sheer desperation, but you can’t choke out a single word. Even if you were capable of speaking, you wouldn’t know what to say. What are you supposed to say? 

This stranger is scaring you.

His grip loosens when he sees your face changing colors. As you gasp for air, you scream. “Let go of me, freak!” You kick and squirm as harshly as you can. If you don’t escape him now, there’s no telling what he’ll do to you. When you shriek those words, they tear away at him, shredding into him like razor blades. If he had a heart, it would be bleeding. 

He doesn’t move for a second. He just stares with shaking eyes.

Scaramouche did this to himself, he knows that very well… So why?

Why does this hurt so fucking bad?

Before he erased his past from this world, the two of you were attached at the hip. It was utterly strange. Scaramouche hated humans to his core, but he had made an exception for you. You were just so different. You loved him deeply- you had once accepted him. He would bark insults at you, but you always bite back. And he loved that about you. It was always a playful game to see who would win, even though it always ended with Scaramouche coming out on top due to his unbearable stubbornness. After all, you’re just a human, and he’s so much more.

Yet he despised how much he missed you.

And he loathed how much he craves your love.

He misses the way you would run your fingers through his dark purple hair. He misses the way you would kiss his nose and steal his hat to wear it, even though it always annoyed him. What he once thought were inconveniences turned out to be his favorite parts of life. He hated you, but he loved you too, and he could never understand it. He also would never say any of it out loud.

In the past, he never told you that he loved you, but somehow it was like you knew anyway. He constantly called you stupid, but he was always lying through his teeth.

But now… Now you stare at him with terrified eyes as you scratch and kick at him. It’s so painful, it hurts so bad, and because of that he continues to sob. He’s never cried like this before… He feels fucking pathetic. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. How is it even possible for him to feel this way? How did he let himself get so attached? He just wants it to stop.

He wants it all to go away.

He just wants you to– no, needs you to remember him, even though he knows it's impossible.

The fact that he did this to himself without thinking twice is what makes everything much more frustrating.

Does he regret erasing himself from irminsul? No, he doesn’t. But… Still…

His mind goes numb as his hands tighten around your throat a little more. At this point, you’re shaking like a leaf, worried that you won’t make it out alive. “I’m not a freak, you lowly human.” He seethes and instinctively hurls back an insult. Scaramouche hardly cares about what others think of him, but hearing you call him such a thing with genuine malice bothers him.

Meanwhile, all you can do is think about how to escape. You’ve never met this man before a day in your life… Why is he doing this? You wonder if he’s mistaking you for someone else. Perhaps he’s going through a psychotic episode. You try to reason out the situation, but there’s really no point. Your heart is beating so fast that it might just burst. 

“S…Sc… Sca… Scar…” You murmur out fragments of a word, and Scaramouche’s eyes widen. Scar? Are you going to say ‘Scaramouche’? Without thinking, he lets go of you and lifts himself up a little, giving you ample opportunity to escape his clutches. You shoot your leg up and knee him as hard as you can before crawling away. “Scared…” You finish your word. 

“I’m scared… Please, just leave me alone!”

Tears start streaming down your face, and that makes two of you. Scaramouche is too stunned to move as he watches you run the other way. When he realizes that you’re no longer in his grasp, he freaks out. “Get back here!”

It can’t end like this…

No, it absolutely can’t.

He won’t let it.

He’ll hunt you down to the edges of this earth. He’ll grab you, cage you, embrace you until the warmth of his presence is the only reason why you live and breathe. Scaramouche jumps to his feet and begins to chase you.

Your feet burn as you race across the grassy forest of Sumeru, desperate to escape with your life. You jump over roots, dodge stray rocks, and dash through little streams of water. Your breathing grows so heavy that your lungs burn, and your head begins to spin. You run for what feels like hours, and unwillingly, you collapse onto your knees. 

You clutch at your chest and cough. Everything burns so badly… 

Everything hurts… Why does everything hurt?

But at least you’re free now.

Or so you thought.

“Did you really think you could run away from me?”

A violent voice rang out from the darkness. Before you could even react, you were pinned down to the ground again. It was futile- so utterly futile to think you can escape him. You’re so dizzy that you can’t make out the words that he’s saying. He’s yelling something- you can tell from the way his mouth is moving. All you can make out is the word ‘remember.’ 

But you stop looking at him- opting to look at the stars instead. They’re so beautiful… So far away.

Scaramouche notices the way you’re dissociating and backhands you. He brings you back down to earth. “Are you ignoring me?” His anger boils into pure rage. The past you would never ignore him… The past you would never dare to run away from him. 

Scaramouche shakes your shoulders as he yells more obscenities at you.

He’s shaking you so harshly that your head hits the ground multiple times.

He shakes you so hard that your skull collides with a stone beneath your head.

When he sees blood, his eyes widen.

“W-wait,” his breath hitches. “I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper as he watches you black out from beneath him.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out.

“(Y/n), wake up.”

He shakes you just a little more, careful to not hurt you this time.

“I order you to wake up!” He uses one hand to grab your face tightly, trying to get you to react, but you don’t.

Scaramouche panics before placing his ear against your chest, searching for a pulse. When he hears the soft beating, he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. All he does then is hold you close to him, refusing to let go. You’re just as warm as ever… So, so soft. He’s trembling like a leaf.

He can’t help but think that this is so unlike him.

When you’re around, it’s like he becomes an entirely different person.

He closes his eyes and buries his face in your neck while breathing in your scent. Even though he erased himself from this world, you remain mostly unchanged. 

All he wants is you.

Scaramouche doesn’t care that you hate him right now. Yes, it stings, but he’ll get you to love him again… You don’t have a choice. He’ll spend day and night getting you to fall for him. It’ll be just like before. You’ll smile at him, whisper sweet nothings into his ear again, and tease him until he gets red in the face. Just like usual. 

God, he fucking hates how you make him feel.

But he needs it so badly.

As he rises to his feet, he holds you gently in his arms, taking special care of your head. Your blood drips onto his arms, but it doesn’t bother him. He’ll get you patched up and healed in no time. Then he’ll keep you by his side… Forever… Just like before. 

You’re not allowed to forget about him.

You’re not allowed to live a life without him.

You belong to him…

And he belongs to you.

[snickerdoodlles]

How would you rank the Theeranyakapuls in terms of clinginess?

everything any of these boys let go of has claw marks on it.

Khun: physically speaking, i actually like making him a little touch adverse, or at least having a very complicated relationship with it. he is touchy with His PeopleTM, but he wants minimum two guns and meters of space between himself and anyone else. generally speaking, it takes a lot to make him let go of any of His PeopleTM. there's a heirarchy to it too: Kinn and Kim are his innermost ring, he will never let them go, not even when he's dead. Porsche is on the ring between brothers and his innermost guards, Chay to eventually join. there's another fifteen levels min to it, but the gist is Khun will cling desperately to anything that's part of his personal feelings of security and ruthlessly reject anything that compromises a higher hierarchy. ie, Khun might say he's done with "that stupid traitor" (Pete) post-coup but in truth desperately misses him, checks in on him, and eventually reconcile and become genuine friends with him because Khun wouldn't want to lose Pete. but in one of my WIPs, Chan (who rescued Khun when he was kidnapped and part of his sense of security) winds up compromising Kim's sense of security and Khun's adamant Kinn needs to get rid of him ASAP because Khun prioritizes baby brother over all else always.

Kinn: canonically awful at letting anyone go, i love it with my whole soul. man didn't even want to kill his uncle who was currently shooting up his home. he clung to the dregs of Tawan for years. keeps saying he hates Vegas and wants him gone, would lose more than half his whole self if Vegas were actually gone. would lose even more of himself if anything happened to his brothers or Porsche. Kinn tries so hard to wall himself away from everyone but he is a bleeding heart like no other. he cares on every level and more, beyond what he should, beyond what is safe. i want to wrap it in loved ones who will protect it like he deserves. i want him to keep bleeding over everything until he breaks and finally accepts the happiness he deserves more.

Vegas: insists he cares for no one and no one cares about him, has a million crises over it ❤ his hatred for Kinn is so integral to his being he could never kill him. would've abandoned everything for a hedgehog he loved to death if it had lasted 30 seconds longer than it did. probably a good thing because he didn't actually want to abandon everything, as seen when he immediately turns around right after to cling to Pete so hard Pete needs to escape. offers himself up as a bleeding sacrifice to Pete since. you all know this, this is just canon and i love it utterly. canon ends with Vegas holding his two worlds in his arms and Vegas would have to be ripped to shreds before letting either go.

Kim: so scared of how deeply he loves he pushes it all away and pine from afar. man literally introduces himself saying he sacrificed everything for his dream, even tho his actual first scene is demanding updates on Kinn's well-being, even tho his very next scene shows the depth of his obsession in checking in on his brothers. he has his claws still firmly embedded in everything he's ever said he let go of. he keeps trying to let go of them while never once relaxing his grip. i'm obsessed with his clinginess on every level, it's so good.

Macau: quite possibly the only one normal about holding onto his loved ones. no weird rivalries he's based his entire sense of self around at least. still beyond sticky clinging to Vegas tho, i outright laughed when Vegas tried to say Macau would prefer to leave him. my dude, that is a little brother ready to stand between you and the whole world if only you would let him.

[terrence-silver]

How would CK Terry react to hearing beloved playing his piano for the first time? They've never indicated that they know how to play, and they're under the impression that he can't hear them/isn't home.

---

Even if beloved was completely and utterly bad and anti-talented where music is concerned...you know how when you love someone, everything they do gives you this ( ❤️) reaction?

Well, beloved could be wholly uneducated on a piano or really any instrument, merely just hitting the keys, idly and rather randomly trying to harmonize and clumsily make sense of what they're doing, not a shred of melody in those untrained, amateur fingers --- especially not compared to someone as excellent as he is. Matters not! Terry Silver, the King of Bias, overhears their music, and it's his music now. His music preformed on his piano. They're the greatest in the Valley. The greatest in the world, actually! His little songbird who tries very hard. He's listening in from behind a wall, eavesdropping and digging his teeth into his lips as he smiles as widely as the Cheshire cat. Remember how fierily this man vouched for John Kreese being the greatest Sensei ever even after they've both been beaten by a much smaller old man and promptly thrown against a mirror within five seconds flat?

Well, yes.

Just like that.

He is in your corner, even when you're both doused in wall paint and defeated.

Beloved doesn't have to be a particular virtuoso of anything whatsoever (not when he's here to be the virtuoso for the both of them), but Terry functions under the strict notion of propping up someone he feels belongs to him to the (irrational) high heavens regardless of their actual skill level, whereas, if he doesn't give a rat's ass about someone, he will degrade, sabotage, give backhanded complements and talk down to them cruelly even if they're actually talented. The difference being, one's his person and the other ain't. He isn't fair like that and never has been, never intends to start being, but the man can be loyal and dedicated to a fault when he chooses to be. That much is certain.

That's his mentality.

He overhears beloved playing and he might make himself known, sit down beside them and demand they play for him because he didn't tell to them to stop and he wants them to do it however badly while he watches them, follows every movement of fingers, every reaction, every beat, every bit of posture, sound, everything, genuinely engrossed with what he's witnessing. Don't get me wrong --- Terry Silver's no saint and he ain't kind. If the most talented piano player in the World visited his manor tomorrow to play the most polished, complex piece on the planet for him, Terry might think infinitely less of it than beloved missing basic notes and keys. But again --- he's devoted to one person, and he ain't to another and that's all their is to it.

Now he can take all time actually teaching beloved himself.

His way.

The right way.

However he sees fit.

Dishing out rewards and punishments for every song learned. Not learned. Praising them. Chastising them. Praising them again. Tenderizing them to his every word. Every lesson. Transferring knowledge unto them. Ingraining a part of himself inside of them through a transferred skillset. Owning them that way, mind, body and soul. Etching himself into their mind. Through hours of practice. Dedication. He prefers it like this. If beloved started out anti-talented and it was him who brought out of them something that was beneath the surface, carving out his own Pygmalion, whereas if they were genuinely already well-learned it would bother him deep down that it wasn't him who 'discovered' them as it were. Who taught them first. That they weren't his prodigy, instead, the prodigy and the student of several tutors previously. Goddamn it if that wouldn't make him infernally jealous. He doesn't like it! He hates it! Wants them to unlearn everything! Start from the beginning! But, like this? As things are now? Beloved being fully ordinary and commonplace? Ah, this is perfect. It's perfect! Perfect moldable clay! Beloved is a novice at the piano. He's heard them playing first that day and he's the first one who ever took to teaching them. Honing them. Controlling where their skill could go. Climb. Develop. Like branches bending under his grip, growing in the direction he's telling them to grow. And that's the way it should be. They're going to create music because of him. Thanks to him. Not some other teacher(s) out there.

Beloved belongs to him.

So does everything pertaining to them. Even this.

Catching them tinkering away the notes anxiously was the best thing ever, genuinely.

[bioshook-wynand]

Since my friend and I are playing Bioshock 1, i wanted to share some of the things that have happened so far:

- We sat and watched the plane fully sink

- "OUGH?!" < her reaction to the giant Ryan statue

- Right off the bat she didn't trust Atlas and said his wife and child aren't real

- Every security bot is named Jeff

- The wrench is also Jeff(rey Bezos)

- We spent 30 minutes trying to get to Steinman because I forgot I has to throw the bombs at the debris blocking the entrance

- We went through 4 nitro splicers before I realized something wasn't right. I do this everytime. I literally replayed Bioshock like 2 weeks ago and forgot how to do that

- I've died more times in this playthrough than I ever have in Bioshock 1

- Keeps asking me if Atlas is evil, I keep telling her no and that he's my babygirl

- I've been spoon feeding her Atlas propaganda so hopefully she'll trust him by the end

- LOVES the little sisters, terrified of big daddys. She screamed the first time we had to fight one

- I tried to get the first bouncer stuck behind the register in the Medical Bay, but absolutely shredded him before I could

- The women were too stunned to speak

- We sat under the floor of the McCracken Crab trying to kill a Rosie. I died.

- I also hid under the floor of the Fisheries and smacked Splicers that walked overhead

- I got killed by a (different) Rosie like 5 times before I finally killed her

- Also ran from the third Rosie repeatedly before I finally killed him

- She chose target dummy for our first real plasmid

- I've only ever used it when losing control of the plasmids. So I've only used it once-

- Me: God I hate Andrew Ryan

Her: Bash his brains in

Me: *Hephaestus flashbacks* Oh I'm gonna

- Spider splicer: *angry screeching*

Me: New wife for you

Her: Great, thanks

- Hates it everytime I say "Snappies"

- I spent way too long looking for the final spider splicer before realizing I could take a picture of a dead one

- She did trust Peach Wilkins though (Somehow??)

- "I've got a really bad feeling about this" intensifies

- Yelled "THIS IS YOUR MAN⁉️" When Atlas walked out and almost missed Ryan's speech and the splicers bc of it

- Predicted the sub would blow up, but was shocked when it actually did

- I think she begrudgingly trusts Atlas now, his acting is peak

- I also went on a 2 minute rant about him and she made fun or me the entire time

- *finds a crawlspace full of Atlas posters*

Me: Oh my god, this is where I live!!

Her: NO

Me: With my Atlas posters and my.. Pistol bullets??

Her: N O !!

- #1 Langford stan (she's in love with her)

- Got jumpscared by the Houdini splicer that appears behind you (We both screamed)

- I was laughing bc his shadow was looming over us, then slowly turned around and we had a staring contest before I finally shot him in the face

- I've literally never seen him just sit there before?? He always disappeared as soon as I turned around. Wild

- She compared Langford writing the code on the window to 11307 from Danganronpa (iykyk)

- Cue disappointed sighing (Not really, I laughed really hard)

- This entire playthrough has just been me aggressively hitting on Atlas and her reevaluating our friendship

- Not even the posters are safe

- "Who is Atlas?"

Me: My husband

Her: UGH

- Saying "This is for me!!" every time I see an Atlas poster

- She is genuinely considering killing me

- Made me harvest a little sister to see what would happen 😔 We reloaded tho it's okay

- I've found so many secrets in this playthrough, including a vent that goes to a meat locker in the Farmers Market

- It felt like I was getting chased by everyone in Rapture while trying to make the Lazarus Vector

- I also (somehow) shot the big daddy in Langford's office while fighting splicers

- That was terrifying

- *Enters Fort Frolic* Me: It's about to get real silly

- I've been hyping up Cohen this entire time because I knew she would like him

- Unfortunately, she does

- She gagged at the "expectant mama" line

- Got jumpscared AGAIN by the splicer in the basement of Sinclair Spirits

- "SINCLAIR WHAT THE FUCK"

- I can never find the record store when I play Bioshock, this time was no different

- I gave up and went after Hector instead

- When we met Silas Cobb she yelled "KITTENS??"

- She agrees Silas is a discord mod

- We spent like 2 minutes straight trying to catch Hector and Silas

- I also got jumped by a bunch of splicers every time I tried to kill a bouncer

- She lost it at Cohen walking down the stairs

- "HIS GAY ASS WALK"

- I smacked Cohen after his speech and immediately ran

That's all so far, but we'll hopefully play some more this week!

[prideraiised]

@ofheartandsoul asked: 🧡💌👗(for Gold!) | Meme here!

Clothing, Friendship and Romance themed headcanons for Gold undercut!

👗for a clothes-themed headcanon: We're starting with this one because its fastest teehee.

Little bro is a fashion disaster. Gold is a lot of things, but savvy in the ways of looking like he hasn't crawled out of a fucking dumpster? Boy he sure isn't that. Its no secret that Gold is short as all hell. He's capped out at 5'2" and making it your problem. This also means that the hasn't had to buy new clothes since he was like...fourteen? , and Gold rarely spends money if he doesn't have to...so he hasnt! Which means that red hoodie with the little flaps he wore during (HGSS)? , he's STILL wearing that fucking thing and let me tell you. It's seen better days. Most of Golds clothes are torn to shreds, worn down or generally covered in so much dirt blood and grime that no amount of washing them will salvage what was once, allegedly, clothing. (This does mean that his goddamn eight pack is hard to miss though. The undershirt is torn to a point where it reveals more than it covers). We call this 'hobo drip'

🧡for a friendship-themed headcanon

This is a headcanon derived partly from my experience writing Gold in multifandom discord roleplay: Despite the fact Gold was always bad at making friends when he was young he now, somehow, knows literally everybody. It's an ongoing joke in some behind the scenes circles that whenever a new pokemon character is introduced to a wider group, Gold is the guy who will know who that person is and have a pre-existing relationship with them. He's just generally not afraid to but his head into conversation , even when it doesn't involve him. It's jarring, but he's somebody more willing to engage with other people on a deeper level than most. Even villains tend to like him at least a little bit, because even when he actively disagrees with their monologue, he had least shows a willingness to try and understand them.

💌for a romance-themed headcanon

Alright lets get to what we're here for- Ahem.

When Gold was a kid up until after he left on his journey, he never knew his father. He lived alone with his (deathly sick) mother. He didn't have many friends growing up but he loved his mom more than anything else in the world, and because she was so sick often spent a lot of his time taking care of her (much to her shagrin). His mother was demur, wore a lot of pink pastelles, was generally pleasant and a total angel of a woman. The exact opposite of Gold, but she was very much dying. They were too poor for surgery, so they were pretty much on borrowed time.

For this reason Gold hates his father. He considers him a walk out who left without saying a word at the expense of his mothers health and happiness, and he resents his father for it. However, Gold is acutely aware of the fact that he's nothing like his mother, which fostered a deep rooted anxiety that he may have taken after his father instead. There are very very few things that put him on edge like that concept. This extends to his views on romance. More specifically, his fear over it. Gold is an individual who is afraid of almost nothing, but romance is the exception. It's an outright phobia that genuinely terrifies him. The possibility that somehow, someway, he will have all his anxiety over the chance he takes after his father confirmed to him by causing harm to somebody he was in a relationship with, either directly or indirectly, is something he just cannot cope with. He flusters easily, but he avoids any further discussion of the matter like the plague.

[chuuyascumsock]

hi pookie <33 sorry its been yearsss, lifes been a bit of bitch but im just going to be bitchier 😎

how are you doing? and also i love that you re-watched my little pony, that show RAISED me, I CRIED over Princess Celestia and Luna's reunion and the hundreds of other arcs that it had

I HATE THE NEW ONE ITS SO SODUHVODSHUCO 😔☹️

The old MLP is in my heart forever ❤️ (can you tell i was a horse girl 💀)

BUT OMG THAT BLANKET YOU MADE W LIZZY IS SO CUTE????? its so sweet 🥰🥰

i miss you and tumblr moots :(

and ive been TRYING to deal w my writing burnout 'cause i have an idea for a fic that ive been trying to write but words just aren't wording !!!!

and not to mention its been so unbearably hot where i live its actually horrific, i cant sleep at all because of the heat T-T

but on a lighter note ive been hanging out w some of my friends after we all got back from our respective trips and we're planning a little roadtrip later this month !!!!

and

i got snorb a sibling

this is my second baby 😋 im a proud dino mother here !!!

(this is a cry for help)

stay sexy 😘😘❤️💐

Hiiiii Pookie, I’m glad you sent an ask, I was getting worried about you snookums 🥺

I started watching MLP when I was like 10 because my baby brothers wanted to watch it and I liked it but after that I hadn’t seen it in years so I thought I’d get back into it. I was especially into the mlp creepypasta stuff (it was like the first official fandom I got into when I was 8 and it lasted until I was like 14 and I got a new hyperfixation which was Assassination Classroom, let me tell you— being in the Fnaf, Minecraft, Undertale, and Eddsworld fandoms in that time frame as well was wild. The fanfics and crossovers were embarrassing, y’all.)

Also, horse girl? I had to be one in middle and high school cause my mom made me take riding lessons and at least one competition lol. While I didn’t like it because I nearly broke my hip doing so, I’m still salty they sold the horse I mainly rode for two years and the new owner was a bitch and wouldn’t even let me walk past his stall because she was so possessive. Genuinely was only there to make friends with the horses, I still miss you, Cinnabar :[

And yessss, I love the blanket I made with Libby cause it’s so soft and warm which is great cause my hands and feet are naturally cold like a corpse.

I also get the burnout, I wanna write so bad and I have so many ideas but I just can’t write. I want to finish my second Chuuya hurt/comfort fic and Dazai hurt/comfort fic cause they’re almost done (my Chuuya one is 4k+ words long and the Dazai one is being a bitch and deleted half of my progress). But it’s okay because I named them appropriately so look out for fics called “I said break it down, not have a break down” and “This homeless man won’t leave so I’m spraying him down with dirty brown water” (I think you can guess which is which). So yeah :]

THE HEAT IS KILLING ME HERE TOO, IT’S SO FUCKING HOT AND HUMID AND MY GLASSES GET ALL FOGGY WHEN I LEAVE MY HOUSE FOR WORK I HATE IT 😭

Hurray for hanging out with friends!! I watched the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie with my friends this passing week and my god, Hugh Jackman is the straightest man crush I’ve ever had, he is so fine. I rarely like irl men in general (only do so with celebrities bc irl girls is where it’s at, dating boys is gross) so when I do, yk he’s got IT. God, I’d shred cheese on those abs of his.

And you got Snorb a sibling‼️ Name ‘em Sneeb, Sneeb and Snorb <3

[peninkwrites]

Karl and Quackity (don't) Date - Ch 15 of ?

Tubbo is brave, Schlatt is paranoid, and Quackity is fed up with both of them.

[CW: abuse, alcohol, violence, guns]

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 14

Mafia AU

~

The progression had been so gradual.  From the earliest days of their relationship, Schlatt only giving him a slap only at the peak of a heated argument, giving backhanded compliments alongside seemingly genuine ones, on bad days withholding affection even when Quackity was so obviously starved for it; to now, where Quackity is not only afraid Schlatt will kill him but has certifiable near misses to back it up, he doesn’t know how that shift had passed by so unnoticed.  Maybe he shouldn’t have been so tolerant in the beginning, like a frog in a pot of boiling water, but it’s too late for that now.

Not to say Schlatt hadn’t figured out ways to hold onto him early on, well before the need for all out death threats.  Over the course of the first six months of their relationship, Schlatt sunk his claws in deep.  He would be sweet and caring and give Quackity the attention he was so starved of; intermittently he’d cut off that attention until Quackity was panicked over what he’d done, desperately vying for affection, which Schlatt would finally give.  Then, Schlatt would threaten to leave him, and Quackity would beg Schlatt to never let go, to sink his teeth in if it would help him hold on tighter, because he was already convinced that he needed Schlatt to survive.  Not just physically, but Quackity needed Schlatt’s touch like he needed water, he needed his praise like he needed air, and he’d found he didn’t need food as much as he thought he did.

Two years on, Quackity was beginning to accept that while he had changed far more than Schlatt had, Schlatt still had a hold on him in more ways than one.

So Quackity goes to the hostage exchange, because why wouldn’t he?  Why would it be a big deal if nothing happened, right?  Fuck, Quackity is praying Schlatt lets this go.  It’s already unnerving that he’s clearly had this shred of paranoia stirring for weeks before now.  What if it’ll remain under the surface until he finds he needs another excuse to fuck him up?

The setup is typical.  Guns watching their backs, Tubbo waiting gloomily to count the cash.  One of the men ringing the room is the same one tasked with following him; Morelli.  He avoids Quackity’s gaze.  A bold choice on Schlatt’s part.  What if Quackity recognized him and connected the dots now?  That, or this is Schlatt’s way of testing how good of a job the guy was doing, staying out of Quackity’s sight.  Quackity is good at pretending not to recognize people.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Schlatt snaps his fingers for them to open the doors.  They don’t.

“No one has showed yet, Boss,” the man standing to the right of the door speaks up, and with the uneasy glances he gives his nearest comrade, he’d been nominated to give the bad news.

“The fuck do you mean no one has showed yet?” Schlatt scoffs.  “Do they think their fucking wife, their fucking mother, their apparent loved one,” he says the word mockingly, “is just feeling all nice and cosy in the cellar?!”

The man knows better than to speak, watching Schlatt with bated breath.

“Fucking hell… fine, fine, I guess we’re killing her then!  Their loss!” Schlatt says it so loudly Tubbo flinches.

“Boss, I mean, shouldn’t we wait for a minute?  Just to see?” Quackity asks.

“Why the fuck would I do that?  I gave them the time, and if they’re not here, they’re not here–” Schlatt is cut off by the front door being forced open.  “What the fuck is this?!”  He snaps as eight armed men enter, one for each of them.  Considering one of their numbers is a kid, they’re still outnumbered.

“We’re here for Jennifer Bartlet and we’re not leaving without her,” the man at the head of the group calls out as the others aim their guns at Schlatt and his following.

Fuck.  Quackity hates a shoot out.  Why the fuck would these morons waste their hostage fund on mercenaries?!

“Yeah, and I gave you a fuckin’ price tag.” Schlatt laughs, unafraid to the point of suicidality.  If Quackity were a bit more suicidal himself, he’d smack him.  There is a weighted pause wherein no one bends to Schlatt’s whim.  Schlatt seems unperturbed and shrugs.  “Fine.  Kill ‘em, then we kill the hostage.”

Quackity doesn’t know who shot first, but both sides are definitely fucking shooting now.  Quackity is well versed in hitting the ground fast.  He sees Tubbo has done the same, hiding himself behind the stairs.  Quackity sees his ingenious partner has remained on the steps, high up and an obvious target, but he’s not the one firing a gun, so the mercs are more occupied with his dogs.

Quackity thinks he’s coping relatively well.  And he thought he saw Tubbo duck behind the banister, but evidently fucking not anymore since he’s currently standing between Quackity and the barrel of a gun.

“Whoa whoa, stop!” Quackity yanks Tubbo behind him, and they get lucky.  The man hits the ground in a spray of blood from a rogue bullet, dead or alive, he won’t be doing any more damage.

“What the fuck?!” Quackity hisses frantically to Tubbo, pulling him back behind the steps.  “Are you fucking kidding me, Tubbo–?!”  Quackity is distracted by Tubbo grabbing onto his tie and dragging him around the corner into the hall, “whoa whoa whoa, what’re you–” Quackity narrowly missing a bullet piercing the wallpaper above his head.

“We should– We should get the lady out,” Tubbo says, a tremor in his voice but shockingly steady.  He’s let go of Quackity’s tie, trusting him to follow.  “While he’s distracted, we c-can–” Tubbo flinches and ducks when the sound of another gunshot echoes down the hall, but it wasn’t toward them.

“What are you talking about?!” Quackity is almost shouting at him.

“The lady in the basement!” Tubbo snaps.

Quackity laughs, high and frantic.  “Are you fucking kidding me, Tubbo?!  The only leverage against the people currently trying to–” Quackity sees someone turn the corner at the end of the hall and drags Tubbo into the kitchen.  “To kill us?!”

“If we don’t you know he’s gonna kill her!” Tubbo snaps back, rushing to the cellar door.

“If we don’t get the fuck out of here, Tubbo, something is gonna kill us!” Quackity grabs onto Tubbo’s arm, dragging him back.  He desperately tries to think.  Tubbo seems to be doing the same.  Quackity grabs a stool.

“Oh, good idea!” Tubbo grabs one as well, to Quackity’s continued bafflement.

Quackity wedges the legs of the stool between the wall and the door handle, barricading it best he can in the circumstances and spins to the back wall of the kitchen, pulling his beanie down tighter and bottling the urge to throw a fucking fit.  “Okay, okay, we get out the door into the alley and we run for it–”

Quackity is distracted by Tubbo making one stupid decision after another, as he’s taken his barstool and has started trying to bash it against the padlock on the cellar door.  Quite loudly.  “What the fuck are you doing?!” Quackity lunges to grab the stool from him before it can make another thud giving them away.  So far he thinks the gunshots have covered for them, but it’s not going to last if Tubbo keeps it up.

“Me?! What’re you doing?!” Tubbo says fiercely.  Quackity is taken aback.  Tubbo is different.  Tubbo stares up at him, affronted and unyielding, wrenching the stool back from him.  “I’m not leaving when I know what’s going to happen, and neither should you!  At least not until we get her out with us!” He nods back toward the cellar door and gears up for another swing.

Quackity flinches when Tubbo bashes the stool against the lock once more.  It’s scratched the paint, it’s starting to loosen the screws on the latch, there’s no way of them hiding this happening at all now but if they get the fuck out of here, they can blame it on the mercenaries.

Tubbo stops when there’s a dull thud against the kitchen door.  Both of them freeze, staring at the door handle as it rattles.  Rather than freezing up, rather than that meek, rabbit in a headlight panic Quackity expects, to his continued exasperation, Tubbo starts attacking the lock with far more vigor.

“What the fuck is wrong with this door?!” Of fucking course it’s Schlatt’s voice.  He’s a goddamn cockroach.  It’s like he’s allergic to bullets.

Tubbo flinches at the three sharp bangs against the door, but he remains resolutely focused on breaking the lock.  It’s starting to tear away now, the wood is splintering, at the same time, Quackity is the one frozen in the middle of the room as he watches his makeshift door jam rattle ominously against the doorhandle.

“Who’s in there?!  Unless you wanna eat lead, I’d start fucking talking!” Schlatt shouts against the wood.

“I-It’s me!  Schlatt, it’s me!” Quackity doesn’t say Tubbo’s name.  There’s no fucking hiding what they’ve done, but maybe he can shove Tubbo out the back and take the stool so Schlatt thinks he was busting the door down.  Maybe he can even lie and say he was trying to get to the hostage first.  Maybe that will even work and he’s not about to kill himself or, if he’s being optimistic, just sign himself up for some egregious harm.  It won’t fucking work if Tubbo keeps hitting the fucking door.

“Aw, guns too scary for you, sweetheart? I thought you’d stopped being such a pussy,” Schlatt’s patronizing drawl doesn’t sound suspicious, but certainly irritable.  “Open the goddamn door.”

“One sec!  It’s stuck!” Quackity calls back.  He doesn’t even think he’s buying them time, because Schlatt is already trying to ram the door open, but anything to make Schlatt think they weren’t defying him deliberately.

Tubbo pauses once, staring at Quackity, daring him to open that door.  Quackity stares back, daring him to hit the lock again.  Tubbo maintains eye contact with Quackity as with one last hit, the lock finally clatters off the cellar door and Tubbo drops the barstool with it.  He’s opening the door now.  He’s seriously going to try to run downstairs and get that woman out the back door before Schlatt can get his dogs to break the fucking door down, which they’re bound to do any second.

So Quackity does something he hopes Tubbo will eventually forgive him for.  He grabs onto Tubbo by the collar of his shirt and yanks him away from the cellar.

“What’re you doing?!” Tubbo cries out.

Right in time for the other barstool to finally clatter loose and for the door into the kitchen to bang open.  Even then, even as Schlatt enters the room followed by four gunmen, Tubbo is still trying to get to the cellar, Quackity can feel him trying to pull away even as he cannot comprehend what’s possessed him.  Quackity grabs him by the shoulders, shoving him against the fridge.  “Stop trying to act strong!  Stop trying to act strong!”  He shakes him roughly, Tubbo’s eyes widen, stunned, mouth hanging open in wordless fear that Quackity has to ignore.  “You’re just a fucking kid!” Quackity shouts in his face, harsh as he is terrified.  He can deal with Schlatt, he doesn’t know how to cope with Tubbo being unpredictable.

Tubbo doesn’t say a word.  He doesn’t even look as Schlatt sends someone down into the cellar.  He just stares at Quackity, and once more Quackity cannot bury the thought that he needs to teach Tubbo how to have any semblance of a poker face, because right now, that kid’s miserable fucking expression bleeds hurt.  All that fear and confusion as he stares up at him, and it’s so raw Quackity feels like he needs to cut the kid’s heart out before it crushes him.

“You’re a fucking kid,” Quackity snarls again.  It’s all he can do.  And all of his terror on Tubbo’s behalf comes out vicious and cruel, his hands still pressed to Tubbo’s shoulders, refusing to let him move.

Quackity doesn’t know.  He doesn’t know that three days ago, Schlatt had told Tubbo something.  Utterly matter-of-fact, Schlatt had told his son that he’s not allowed to get out of this family alive.  It doesn’t matter when, or even if he turns eighteen, because Tubbo knows too much now.  He’s signed into this family for life and it’s over Schlatt’s dead fucking body that he runs away from this.

That changes things for Tubbo.  All he had been able to hope for was running away the moment he turned eighteen.  In four years time, it will change things even more.

Quackity lets go.  Tubbo doesn’t try to get to the cellar.

“The fuck were you two playing at?” Schlatt cuts in.

Quackity turns back to face him, and Schlatt glances between them.

“My idea, Boss.  Thought it was best we get to her first,” Quackity says dully.  There’s a gunshot in the basement and Quackity flinches.  He doesn’t look back at Tubbo.

“And you kept me locked out why?” Schlatt sneers.

Quackity shrugs and pretends his heart isn’t still pounding in his ears.  “Didn’t react fast enough.  Sorry.”

“I guess I’ll pretend to believe that bullshit, but what gives you the fucking right to go running off making decisions behind my back?  Eh?” Schlatt steps closer, towering over him like always.  “We’ve discussed this, baby!  Your job is to stand there and look pretty while me and the boys do the actual work.  Somehow I seem to find myself tripping over you instead.  When you should definitely know not to get in my way.”

Quackity is already running on too much adrenaline.  “Maybe you shouldn’t start a fucking gun fight without any fucking caution next time!” Quackity shouts in his face and he knows what happens next.  He braces, but it still hurts, Schlatt’s gaudy rings digging into his cheek when the man backhands him hard enough he stumbles.  His cheek stings and he wonders if it was enough to draw blood but he doesn’t reach up to check.  He refuses to react at all.  None of this satisfies the frustration boiling in his chest.

Schlatt tuts him.  “Why the attitude, Quackity?  If you want me to hit you so bad, how about you just ask next time?  Didn’t know you were into that.”

“Come on, Boss.  Lay off.  He’s just… he’s freaked out from the fire fight.  Maybe cut him some slack?”

Quackity looks past Schlatt to Morelli, who had dared to speak, stunned.  Schlatt scowls at Quackity’s expression, before turning back to the man.

Schlatt laughs in his face.  “You’re lucky I don’t cut out your fucking tongue.  You don’t have the fucking right.  Why the hell do you give a shit, eh?  You don’t know him,” Schlatt sneers very deliberately, a warning, daring him to fuck this up.

Morelli has the survival instinct to back down, turning on a dime.  “Sorry, Boss.  Didn’t mean to overstep.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.  Now, if you’d meant to, I’d just fucking kill you.” Schlatt says.  “You know better than to mouth off.”

Morelli just nods.  He does not acknowledge the obvious threat, nor the indignity of a grown man voicing any thought being referred to as mouthing off.

“Get this cleaned up and get out of my sight,” Schlatt waves them off.  He grabs onto Quackity’s arm tightly, dragging him back into the hall.  Quackity doesn’t look back at Tubbo.  He doesn’t want to know what that kid’s face looks like after that woman was shot.  Quackity sees only four dead in the front entryway, a couple of them are theirs, the other two from the mercenaries.  The rest must have decided it wasn’t worth it and fled.  Schlatt stops behind the stairs, cornering him against the wall.

“What was that about, Quackity?” Schlatt finally lets go, staring at him, sharp and accusing.

“I told you, I was just trying to get to her first and the kid followed, I wasn’t trying to keep you out, it just–”

“No, not that– not whatever,” Schlatt waves him off dismissively.  “You don’t think they give a fuck about you, do you?”

Quackity stares up at him, baffled.  “Uh, who?”

“The boys!” Schlatt gestures irritably toward the hall.  “My boys.”  He paces for only a moment before turning back to close in on Quackity.  “You’ve got no idea the shit they say when we’re not in the room.  You think that son of a bitch is any different?  Huh?  He’s acting like a goddamn gentleman right now, but you think he’s not laughing along with all them?” Schlatt says it like an accusation, and Quackity knows his answer matters, but he’s just so startled.  Quackity hadn’t viewed Schlatt as the jealous type until recently.  In the beginning he acted like giving Quackity any attention was a chore, like Quackity being allowed to grace his presence at all was something Quackity had to cling to like a lifeline.  This is certainly not that.  And it sure as hell isn’t better.

“I mean…” Quackity laughs, and has yet to partake in caution.  “How would you know what they’re saying if you’re not there either?”

Schlatt smiles.  “Because sometimes I am there, and I can tell them to shut the fuck up, or I can join in.”  Schlatt reaches out and pinches his cheek.

Quackity’s irritation is finally replaced by hollow disgust, which is exactly what Schlatt had been hoping for he presumes.  Quackity doesn’t want to know.  He does know they’re not all like that.  Schlatt acts like such a fucking know it all, but Quackity knows it means something when they look at him different, like he’s an actual person.  He won’t hold it against them for laughing along when Quackity has done the same thing.

“Right,” Quackity laughs and it sounds strained.  “Is that supposed to make me feel better, Schlatt?�� Doesn’t exactly paint you in a very good light, now, does it?”

Schlatt startles him by grabbing onto his shoulders, not too tightly, but unnerving nonetheless.  “You know I’m the only thing standing between you and those animals?” He expects Quackity to look him in the eye, demanding he not merely listen but understand Schlatt’s point.  “You think I’m harsh, or… or demanding–” Schlatt cuts himself off with a brief, wet cough that makes Quackity shut his eyes. “Or whatever it is you bitch about all the goddamn time, do you have any fucking clue how much worse it could be?  I am the only thing keeping them off of you.  They don’t care if you fucking live or die.  I weren’t here?” Schlatt leans in closer, hissing a warning, “they’d be on you like fucking wolves.  You’d be dead by tomorrow.”

Quackity buries a shiver, hitting the wall behind him as he steps just another inch back.  He wants Schlatt to let go, so he nods.  Even if he refuses to believe Schlatt in entirety, it still makes his skin crawl.  It’s bad enough when they agree with Schlatt and just call him cute or stupid.

“Good.  I’m glad you understand,” Schlatt says, and that illusory calm returns.  He brushes out the wrinkles from Quackity’s shirt.  He continues, voice slow and measured and raspy.  “Now, we’re gonna go back in there, and the brat is gonna explain to me why he wanted to bust into the basement so bad.”

Quackity’s heart drops to his stomach.  Schlatt glances over his shoulder as there’s some well-timed shouting from down the hall; Quackity is more distracted by what Schlatt has said.

“Schlatt, that’s not–”

“You’re gonna tell me that’s not what happened?!” Schlatt cuts him off harshly, voice rough and weakened.  “Because it sure as hell wasn’t you, not from the way you were chewing him out.”

“I-It wasn’t– He–” For once Quackity can’t think of a lie fast enough.

This seems to confirm whatever suspicion Schlatt had, as he gives Quackity an almost understanding nod, and heads back toward the kitchen.

Someone else had the same idea as Schlatt.  Tubbo’s title as a mob prince gives him no authority nor apparently protection.  In the brief period out of the room, something must have gone down, because Tubbo is currently hunched over the kitchen sink and two of Schlatt’s dogs seem seconds from a brawl.

“Whoa whoa whoa, the fuck is going on in here?!” Schlatt barks.  “Which one of you fucking rats hit the kid?!”  He glares between the two of them.

Quackity goes to Tubbo, without a word getting him to turn to face him, revealing a bloodied nose still pouring into the sink.  Quackity tilts his head back so he can assess the damage.  Not broken, he doesn’t think, but Quackity sees Tubbo failing to hold back tears.  Quackity turns away from him to wad up some paper towels to stem the flow of blood.  Schlatt waits for an answer.

“Hello?!  Can you two not fucking hear or some shit, I asked who fucking hit my kid?!”

Quackity goes to the freezer to dig up some ice, glancing back at the pair of them.  He doesn’t give a shit what happens to the man responsible.  He’s for once grateful for Schlatt’s rage, because if Schlatt hadn’t started talking, Quackity would’ve gotten himself hurt doing something instead.  Morelli and some prick Quackity doesn’t know the name of stand in silence.  Quackity thinks Morelli isn’t a snitch.  He also doesn’t think the guy is the type to hit kids, hence, they’re waiting for the other man to crack.

“You saw it, Boss!  He must’ve been trying to–”

“Ah, ah ah!” Schlatt silences him with a tut and a raised hand.  There’s a long pause, and Quackity has a feeling the old man is holding his breath to dodge another coughing fit.  It’s easier to hide the other symptoms, the fatigue, even the dizziness, but that cough, that’s harder.  “I didn’t ask you what you fucking thought he did, I asked if you fucking hit him.”

“I…” The man struggles to defend himself.

Schlatt sighs, grumbling half under his breath as he gets out his revolver.

“Hold on!  Hold on a sec!” The man shouts hoarsely, backing up toward the back door.

Schlatt pays him no mind.  He snaps open the cylinder and sighs more loudly.  “Anyone got a bullet?”  A pause.  None of them are going to stop Schlatt, but maybe there’s some semblance of comradery there as no one replies.  “Quackity.  You didn’t shoot, correct?  You ran for it with the kid?” He says snidely.

Quackity nods.  He knows it makes him look weak, to immediately act as if on Schlatt’s side after the man hit him and dragged him out for a lecture, but he doesn’t give a shit.  He’s on Tubbo’s side, not Schlatt’s.  He unholsters his own revolver and feels a hand hold on tightly to his arm.

“Big Q,” Tubbo says, voice thick and muddled.

Quackity doesn’t respond.  He hands Schlatt his gun.

“Big Q,” Tubbo says again, and Quackity knows he sounds horrified behind the blood in his nose.

“I– He disobeyed you!  It was the kid!  He was the one trying to get downstairs!  Come on, Boss, wouldn’t you have done the same fucking thing-?” The man falls silent, holding out his hands as if to stop a bullet that way and flinching back as the gun goes off.  A bullet is embedded in the cabinet to the man’s left.

“Apologize.”  Schlatt says coolly.

“I’m sorry!  I– I wasn’t tryna go behind your back–”

“Not to me.” Schlatt cuts him off.

Despite the gun on him, the man still grimaces at the thought of being made to apologize to a child.  “Sorry, kid.”

“It’s fine!” Tubbo says, voice strained and high.

“See?  Was that so hard?” Schlatt sneers.  “Are we all clear, here?  Crystal?  None of you get to hit him.  None of you.”

One of the few good things to say about Schlatt is he never flat out hits Tubbo.  If Quackity thinks about it, the most he thinks he’s ever seen him do was throw something near him or shove him or hold on too tight.  For a brief, wild moment Quackity thinks that’s better.  He knows that’s ridiculous.  Harm is harm.  Schlatt is still a hypocrite.

Schlatt waits until there are a few nods of ascent before proceeding.  “Good.”  He glances back at Tubbo, and then again to the man responsible.  “Somebody break his nose.”  No one moves.  “Am I speaking fucking French?  Can you not hear all the sudden?  You, you already gave it your best shot, eh?  Try again,” he gestures with the gun for Morelli to hit him.

Morelli winces, but he does as he’s told.  Quackity sees Tubbo turn back to face the sink when there’s an awful crunch, and the man hits the ground, sniveling like a coward.  Tubbo’s nose isn’t actually broken, but he still took a punch better than this prick.  Tubbo meets Quackity’s gaze and quickly looks away, but from that glance, Quackity knows Tubbo is upset with him.  Quackity doesn’t fucking care.  He does care, but nowhere near enough to regret it.  He didn’t sign up for this shit, but he’s in it now.  Has been for years.  He keeps Tubbo safe.  From Schlatt and all else.  Quackity is startled when Schlatt turns and offers his gun back to him.  Quackity is quick to holster it, relieved that he hadn’t shot the guy if only because Tubbo would’ve taken it personally.

“Come on.  While these fuckin’ morons clean up, I want a drink.”  He nods Quackity to the door.

~

Schlatt has his drink.  Then another, then another.  Then another.  Unsurprisingly, that’s how the evening goes.  When Quackity finally drags him back upstairs, he’s all but dead weight.  Quackity thinks he might be trying to sedate the cough out of himself deliberately, but getting fucking wasted does nothing to help with the dizziness, as Quackity well knows from Schlatt leaning away from him before staggering back onto him.

Quackity finally dumps Schlatt onto his side of the bed where the man remains upright, barely.  Quackity takes a pause to catch his breath.  He’d stopped after two drinks when he realized he’d have to drive them home from the speakeasy he’d bullied into hosting them.  Not Niki’s, of course.

Quackity recovers somewhat, and sighs as Schlatt remains sitting there, making no effort to go to bed.  Giving in, Quackity leans down and undoes the laces on Schlatt’s smarmy oxfords.  He feels Schlatt clumsily try and run a hand through his hair and brushes him away, pulling off one shoe as if undressing a toddler.

“That fuckin’ kid, he’s always been scared as shit.  Freaked out by gunshots before he knew what they were…” Schlatt mutters.

Quackity pauses on the laces of the other, looking up at Schlatt.  “What?”

“The… the kid!  You know the kid,” Schlatt scoffs derisively.

“Tubbo?”

“Yeah, unless we got another one running around I don’t know about,” Schlatt says drolly.  He’s coherent enough to talk, apparently, but he doesn’t do anything to help or stop Quackity from slipping off his other shoe.

Quackity gets up, deigning not to be on the floor for the rest of this ordeal, and reaches out to unclasp Schlatt’s belt.  Schlatt starts trying to undo the buttons on Quackity’s pants.

Quackity smacks his hand away.  “Nope.”

Schlatt moodily returns his hands to his sides.  Another benefit to Schlatt’s growing weariness is he’s quicker to tolerate a firm no.  He’d always grudgingly get there eventually, but Quackity appreciates that it’s less of a fight.

Schlatt resumes his tangent like there was never any pause.  “Y’know, took him three years to say a word, and he skipped right to complete sentences!  Took me by surprise, I was about to call him a dud and have the boys put him in a sack and toss him in the river, y’know? Like a bag of kittens,” Schlatt laughs wetly, Quackity pauses, staring at Schlatt in stunned disgust.  “I’m kidding, Jesus fucking Christ, you think I’d kill my own blood?  Why d’you think I’ve kept him around this long?”

Schlatt meanders back to his original topic, while struggling drunkenly with the buttons of his shirt.  “First… first words were shut the fuck up.  Ha!  Probably heard it from me.  He didn’t say it to me, to be clear, otherwise I’d have smacked him for getting mouthy and then he probably would’ve been mute for another three years.  Made me laugh, though.  Y’know…” Schlatt seems to struggle to think something through, enough so that he has to pause with his shirt buttons to focus on it.  He lets Quackity pick up where he left off.

“I dunno who actually taught him to talk.  Must’ve just picked it up from the boys, I guess.  He had a nanny for the first two years or so, but the turnover rate was so fucking high.  None of ‘em had the guts to stick it out––Actually, one of ‘em tried to take Tubbo with them.  Some… some former military type, an old Captain or some shit and decided he’d rather deal with diapers?” Schlatt scoffs.  “Thought he wouldn’t be a pussy about my business with that kind of history, but nah.  He tried to run for it.  With the brat.  Bastard should’ve drugged him or something, you can’t smuggle out a crying baby!” Schlatt points at him intently, as if he’s offering pertinent advice before once more drifting off, hands slack at his sides.  “That was probably the last one.  Not gonna risk someone stealing my fucking blood.  So, at that point… I dunno.”  

“Wait!” Schlatt snaps his fingers.  “I remember!  I think… I think it was some British pricks, I dunno.  They thought it was funny trying to make him repeat the shit they said, especially after his first words were so fuckin’ ridiculous coming out of that tiny mouth.  They had that kid swearing like a sailor by the time he was three.  And… and they’re responsible for the fucking accent he’s got… back then I had a whole ring of Brits running around with me… probably saw him more than I did...”

“That’s how the kid learned to talk?” Quackity asks, his initial disgust traded for curiosity as he pulls Schlatt’s shirt off of him, leaving him in a white undershirt disturbingly damp with sweat.  “How does he sound like the fucking Queen now?”

“Fuck if I know, sometimes I think he started with the– the saying please and thank you and sorry, sir!” he says each phrase mockingly, “just to… just piss me off…”

“Right,” Quackity says dully, tossing the shirt to the floor and moving to leave.

“It’s his birthday soon, you know,” Schlatt actually puts a hand on Quackity’s arm to stop him, as if what he’s saying is important.  “He thinks I don’t know when it is, but it’s… it’s this month.  He’s still my kid, even if I… I didn’t really want a fuckin’ kid, y’know?”

Quackity knows when Schlatt gets into one of these rambling moods there’s no use dissuading him, better to just listen until he talks himself to sleep, but Quackity can’t help it, pulling away from Schlatt and going to the other side of the bed.  “No it isn’t, Schlatt.”

“Huh?”

“His birthday.  It’s not this month.”

“The fuck are you talking about?  How would you know?” Schlatt sneers.  “It’s… it’s the 21st.  The 21st of March,” Schlatt nods resolutely.

Quackity kicks off his own shoes and starts loosening his tie.  Maybe if Schlatt had been anywhere near close, the right month, or maybe even the right season at least, Quackity might’ve just moved on.  It’s too fucking much, all of it.  Every word Schlatt has said tonight.  “December.”

“Huh?”

“It’s in December.”

Schlatt scoffs.  “And you would know?  Like you know and I don’t?”

“Yeah, actually.  Yeah, I do,” Quackity says stiffly.  He flinches when Schlatt clumsily hits him over the back of the head, just enough to startle and sting.

“Shut the fuck up…” He mutters Tubbo’s first words and slumps over onto his pillow, and Quackity stops trying.

[hislittleraincloud]

Are you familiar with the concepts of ship and let ship? Don’t yuck my yum? Don’t kinkshame? It’s okay to vehemently disagree with other fandom pairings/scenarios/etc., but posting screen shots that openly shame other users for their preferences is very unkind.

I’m genuinely sorry that you were triggered. It would have been easier to use the block button than to create a post saying “Wyler people are gross” and specifically calling the screen-shotted user garbage.

At the very least, please keep any shaming off the general fandom tags. I would have preferred to not see any of this and I don’t even ship Wyler.

It's not kinkshaming to call someone who said that they hoped that a beloved character in fandom was "ripped to shreds" 🗑️.

Context, hun. Did you completely miss the part of the post where I said I had no hate to the OP/the potential for that story? It'll be a good story if real justice is served. The little screencap was served not against its OP, but to the sentiments that it incurred in the comments. Violent stalking/murdering someone else's boyfriend is acceptable to that person, and that's just rank.

I've posted before that I cannot stand Wyler. Fuck That Monster is my 'vehement disagreement' with that, and I am open to that story... I'm not open towards shitty comments about murdering Joel just because Wednesday was dating him. I would love to read that stalker story for justified comeuppance, but I can't say that's what it'll be about given the comments. The real diff there is that my hope as a reader is for real justice to happen while there are people like the 🗑️ poster who hope, as a reader, for INjustice to happen (since there's a real injustice towards two characters being happy only to have one other be gross, inappropriate, and threatening to their happiness). I would have said that poster was 🗑️ regardless of their chosen ship for having posted comments like that, but so far I haven't seen anyone in the popular ships who post 🗑️ like that...because they don't tend to be 🗑️.

Thick skins only grow in the face of adversity. This fandom is full of the thinnest skins imaginable because somewhere along the line, people got the idea that no one's ideas or comments are open to any criticism; that 'staying in a lane' is the way to drive, even though we're seriously all on the highway to Hell here together (especially in this fandom, let's not sugarcoat that). Why do you think that I don't give a flying 💩 about what anyone says about Wenovan and can defend it (maybe not to everyone's liking since they cannot conceive of AB Wednesday having such strong agency at her age/regurgitate whatever the moral line is atm)? Because I've been through that war before. It's nothing new to me.

Senseless death is already happening in realtime in this world. Don't be 🗑️ and wish death upon...how did the Millennials call it before Gen Z became teens...a precious cinnamon roll like Joel just because Hunter Doohan [in a role that was, by general real world consensus, a milquetoast character] makes your panties wet. Yeah, sure, write whatever the Hell you want, it's all fiction. But it still isn't immune from crit, just as the show itself isn't at all immune to crit.

My story isn't immune to crit either, but not one greyface anon has actually read it to criticize WHY things don't work within or don't make sense to them (those are actually in the comments at AO3, and I've responded to them... like the fan who didn't like AB Wednesday in love, even though that's...what she's been LOL). It's just all general "ew gross" or "it's illegal!" or some inane broad brush about the premise with nothing to react on its substance. "But I don't have to read it to know that it's wrong!!!" ... 😐 ...If I am willing to read a Wyler with the above premise to see where it (hopefully) ends up, I think others could be as open minded.

But anyway

If you seriously yum a murderous stalker over love--even while that's 'cute' in this fandom given the solidly frozen misanthrope that is our favorite heroine--then I can't help you. There's something broken there. 🤷🏽‍♂️ Wenclair and Wavier are at least based on 💕 love💕, so I guess that we've got that to be thankful for.

As for tags, for real? As if the tags on this shit app actually work? 💀 You said you don't even ship Wyler, but I'll give 'em a new tag anyway: Wyner/Wyners. Because that's what it all sounds like rn. Wyners whining about why they can't have nice things because ✨Hunter is so dreamy✨, and no one should ever be called 🗑️ just because they hope for a universally loved character to die a bloody death.

[dassydawn]

So much negative energy directed at one person

And I'm still alive but barely

Fear in my eyes

Thoughts of self harm in my mind

Sex should be the last thing

I been through too much

I didn't deserve that ish

And noone will convince me otherwise

Scapegoated

Demonized

Villainized

Dehumanized

Exploited

Assaulted

I didn't deserve it

No one deserves me

Noone is trying to save me

I was delusional to think so

That man most likely has an evil plan

I want no one

Finally my delusional bubble buss

I want no one

I want to tuck

But I have horrific trust issues now

Body issues

Performance issues

Issues issues

Nah

No one Will touch me

Cause I won't feel safe

Or comfortable

I'll know something bad is coming

Some L

Some insult

Some treachery

So no matter how tempting

I have to protect myself

Cause I've been hurt too bad

Way too much no one person deserve all those insults and betrayals and daily reminders

How could I ever slide my panties off for a man

Even if my pussy dripping

My mind, my energy would be sandpaper dry

This shit ruined me

Legs locked 🔐

Can't afford more bruises

Can't risk the pain ,

Emotional pain

I like physical

I used to like physical

I can't trust

I wanted someone to save me

Noone is trying to save me

No one wants good for me

Just $$$$$$$$

Nothing more

I don't want who I thought I wanted

Or who I used to want

Or who I still kinda want

I'll ignore the fact that I'm

Craving

That feeling

Missing

That feeling

Squeaky clean and juicy

Wet n ready

To come off the bench

ready

To clench

But ....nah

I been hurt too bad

Tired of going out sad

Can't trust

Him or him or him

Attraction guarantees nothing

Niggas are cold

And I am tired to being sold

Lies dreams fantasies

I don't want any man

I hate men now

But I want that feeling when it first goes in

I want the toe curling pussy dripping

Buzzed from wine sipping

Heart skipping

A beat

Anticipating

That feeling

Shoulder gripping

I want my mind

Taken

Far from my suffering

Pound my pussy

Pain transfer

Harder harder harder

I want to pull him closer

I want to close my eyes caught up in the moment

I want to bite my lips because it feels good

I want to forget everything I'm going through

I want to feel out of control

Even when I'm on top slam me down on it make me sit on it slide on it skin up on it

Rub that dick up and down my clit

Yesss

Have me panting, shaking, breaking

While u taking

No faking

Deal with me

Not made of plastic so you could be real with me

Be gentle with my emotions my emotions are chaffed I don't want to feel bad in my mind

So please be kind but not to my pussy

It's been a while since she's been sore

Don't fuck me like a good girl

Treat me like a whore

Turn me around make me lie on my belly face in the pillow while you shove it in

I can take it

Even if I'm begging you to stop

Don't

If you're a sensitive guy we can have a safe word

But I need to get out of my head

I need to forget i need to sweat

Doggystyle Infront the mirror

I want to see your face when you're inside

Raw emotions nowhere that hide

I hate you and you and you

I hate men

But but but

I need to get out of my headhavent felt like this in a long time

Havent felt this need in a while

But I can't trust you niggas

Want my pussy pounded

Not my

Heart shredded

I can't trust you

I don't want none of you

I hate most men

Slighted too much

Took too much Ls

Can't choose

Too much to lose

I'm scared of the traps they setting for me

Spiritually

More to this than most can see

But that's for another time not tonight

Im fighting these urges these feelings

This tingling

This sudden desire for mingling

But I can't trust anyone

Who loves me

No one

Who is genuine

No one

So I'll curl my toes in my bed alone

I'll quench my thirst with water

I'll wait until I'm braver

Cause I'm afraid of men

Afraid of being naked

Afraid of opening up although I

Want to be opened up want you to

Spread my legs then stretch me out

Make me grip and screàm and shout

Curiouser and curiouser

Know you want to squeeze into my hole

Like Alice

Fuck me with malice

You don't like me

But you'll love this juicy, grippy ,slippy

Wetty

Anyway I'm ending this poem cause I'm getting

Worked up

Turned on

And I

Can't afford to get physical

Can take the heart ache of the inevitable heartbreak

I'll stay by myself

Squeeze my legs together

My only sensation

No motion in my ocean

Not now not tomorrow not tonight

Not a boxer but I could do with a fight

Let me stop now

Stop stop stop you hurting me

I want to feel you up in me digging me

Stretching me

Pushing me over the edge

Don't want no lovemaking

I want boundary breaking bed shaking

Earthquaking

Fast strokes slow grind

Hard fuck

Take your time

Ok I'm done now I promise I'm finished

My heart is racing clit throbbing

I know you would make me suck your dick

Head bobbing

Guck guck guck

Sloppy toppy

Get the Dick spitty

Then your u give it to me hard

Nitty gritty

[bakedrice0022]

I think about my addiction a lot. The people I hurt and fucked over. All the awful things I did during it honestly. I often want to reach out but don’t because who am I to pop back in when I know all their lives have improved since I left? Allie crosses my mind a thousand times a day and then some. At this point, I’ve just accepted that I’ll always have that longing for her. I’ll always have such immense love for her. I stole money from her, sold her things, we fought a lot. She found drugs idk how many times and I’d just…lie. Or try to anyway. Things really got out of hand when she broke up with me. I was too unhealthily codependent on her and completely spiraled that day. Neither one of us deserved what I put us through. That being said, it’s hard being gentle with myself through this healing. It’s hard to forgive myself and genuinely love myself through it. I did such awful things to such an amazing person. Something I have to carry with me forever. How does a person live with that? I just wanted love. To be seen. She came close but we could never quite meet in the middle. I was always too soft and forgiving and she was hard and cold when it came time. I was truly the light and her dark; the most beautiful combination. The Yin and Yang we had was insane. It’s hard to let go of something that was once your entire world. We were both hurting in ways we didn’t understand at the time and the projection was days of dealing with it were toxic as hell. I can see that and I don’t think she’s healed enough to yet. I still have healing with it too; I feel some anger and resentment with it but nothing compared to the love. I feel her so strong it takes my breath away at times. Love is better than hate but truly healing and setting boundaries with what you want also matter...it doesn’t mean you hate them. It means you love them and yourself so much that you don’t want to be put in uncomfortable situations. I’ve learned a lot since being gone for 2 years. I’m someone I never thought I’d be and I’m only going to keep growing. I’m proud of myself. It’s been hard lately; especially with Twy being gone. I have no one to fully talk to that wouldn’t see me as crazy and when I think about even remotely reaching out to her I don’t because she’s actively not speaking to me. Choosing not to be with me. So I have to continue to choose me when I feel people aren’t. And when they aren’t? It’s because they’re not for me - plain and simple. It doesn’t make it any less hard tho.. I miss you both. In aliveness and death. I ache for you both. I don’t know who I am anymore. Almost every last shred of Sarah died when I left and both Sarah and Moe died when Twy died. I’m just a skinsuit with emotions reaching and pleading for signs and synchronicities every second of the day. Just to make it all a little easier. A little more bearable. Life is hard. Love is harder.

Peace, love and water

Moe 🧡💫

[gardenavenve]

i cant find the energy much to get out,

but i still will sit at home and think of all the ways i could try to do on the days convenient for you.

my schedule at work isnt really set,

but ill still request your birthday off every year, just in case.

nobody else truly gets the love for fiction television or love in the same way you did,

so ill write to my journal and scream into this empty space.

i couldnt give you my time to make you feel as loved as you are,

but even in my hardest time, furthest aways on the globe id drain every last penny for you.

a gift doesnt heal the friendship you miss,

but god does it signify that i love you, and that i thought of you, and still think of you even when i feel a thousand million miles apart.

i will never have the correct way to say goodbye because i couldnt say goodbye, even to the dead

because you arent just another person ive lost,

no you arent a tally.

if there were a tally, id shred them all because nobody else really matters the way you did.

i helped you through heartbreak

and you supported me through each time i was sexually assaulted, as a child, and as a 19 yr old woman.

you sent me your love when my brother passed and you tried letting me vent to you whenever you could, or i needed to

you were the first person i smoked weed with

the first person i genuinely felt a real friendship with as we were both “rick and daryl” or so and so.

you and i dyeing our hair the same color to match, our tiny little photoshoots we did as kids.

webcam photos and family trips.

your family becoming my only source of good, attainable behavior and lessons.

being there when my own family hated me and didnt care less where i was, you guys gave me a bunkbed one summer

depression hit in 2015 and you pulled out the extra mattress for me all summer, no complaints.

the love, and the loss, the hurt, and the complete feeling of being helpless and overthrown

is unbearing

[no-ctrl]

I wish you were still my person but realistically I really don’t. I am tired of being alone. I hate expressing these feelings because realistically I’m not alone, I have my sister Jessica, I have my mom, I have my best friends Frida and Ruby. I am not alone but I am lonely. I miss having a person to text, someone to share my everyday life events even the most insignificant parts bc to them they won’t be insignificant bc I’m me. I miss having someone to rely on when I’m not 100% I’m tired of holding down my end of the bargain but get less 5% back in return (excluding my people) I am sad. Deep down I just want to be taken care, i want to be looked after, I want to be considered, I want to be valued, I want to be respected, I want to be genuinely and purely loved. Im tired of the hidden agendas or lack of consideration. I want to feel lovable. Im tired of feeling like I have to prove myself. I am lovable just as I am I don’t have to excel at everything and be perfect to be lovable I am enough as I am but some days im surrounded by people that make me feel as if im not. I want to be held. I miss Israel when he genuinely cared about me not the monster of a person he became. He hurt me to deeply in the end. He treated me like I was nothing and body to him. He had no respect to even give me a goodbye. He just ghosted me like we had not been together for nearly 6 years. I can’t help but feel so sad. I stood by his side for all the bad yet he could not give an ounce of love back. Im not even asking for him to be there in the bad time but he could not even give me love when I had none for myself. Instead he exploited that, he took advantage of my lack of self love and used me for his benefit whether tht be for sex, a ride, a free meal. He truly embarrassed me as a person, I am embarrassed that I also lacked so much self love, respect and discipline to stand by a person who did not care to look me in the face while taking advantage of me. I wish there was at least an ounce of remorse in his mind but knowing him there probably isn’t. At the end of the day it’s none of my business what he does or thinks but what I do know is it’s officially 8 months no contact. Soon to be 1 year. I guess if I could say anything to him is I hope you’re well, I’m good health physically and mentally, I wish you luck on your future, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, nothing in your past defines your current life. Respect although it’s all love too please leave me alone forever even if it kills me on the inside. Each day with no contact a piece of my heart dies, the place that hold the space of you. It needs to completely die, you have no place in living in my heart anymore. You don’t deserve space in my big sweet heart. You had it and instead of handling with care you ripped my heart to shreds then laughed in my face as you walked away. You left me and I don’t care how hard you life was bc mine was too but I never let that be an excuse to mistreat you. I don’t care what the reason was bc I deserve to be treated properly not what you did. The most I can do for myself right now is pursue my goals and achieve them for ME! I deserve to succeed in this life. I deserve to defy the odds. Life has put me through a tough walk of life at only 22 years old but I know my purpose in this life is to heal and blossom past the constraints life tries to shackle me in. I’m not defined by you Israel. I’m not defined by what you did to me. I’m not defined by all the terrible things in my past. I’m defined by the beauty I care from within and out. I am meant to shine in this life and I will not be dimmed by a guy. You’re just a guy. I am a humble, intelligent, charismatic, sweet, genuine, loving, thoughtful, considerate, caring person. That’s all me. You don’t just fake those sorts of things, that’s something I care within myself. And if I’m too much for you then you walking away was the best thing you could have done for yourself. Go find less elsewhere but you are no longer welcome in knowing who Jaymee is.