#even if it's just a harmonica or something

[thelastspeecher]

In Olympian Falls AU, on Ford, Stan, and Angie's first quest together, they come across a group of monsters that they need to get rid of. But there's too many of them for a head-on attack, even if they have Angie use her archery skills.

So Stan and Ford come up with the idea to have Angie make a distraction, then while the monsters are distracted, they'll like, knock down a big heavy thing or something that will crush the monsters.

Angie points out she's best at a musical distraction, but she didn't bring her fiddle. And Stan just shrugs and says she should sing, then. It takes some cajoling and bribery, but eventually Angie agrees.

Angie starts singing her favorite song, "Take Me Home, Country Roads" and walks up to the monsters. She channels her sadness at being away from her home in Arkansas for so long, not being able to visit or risk danger to her family. And not only do the monsters start weeping at her performance, Stan and Ford get overwhelmed by sadness from it as well, and Angie has to glare at them before they remember what they're supposed to do.

After Stan and Ford dispose of the monsters, Ford comments that he knows now why Angie doesn't sing. It's too powerful for most applications.

Angie mumbles that that's not the reason, but thanks him anyways.

Stan is still speechless, as the haunting sound of Angie's voice plants the seed that will grow into his crush on her.

[lunasdreamytreats]

Size kink ! Feat. BSD, HSR, GI, PKMN AND KNY characters

A/n: I've just stopped menstruating and am beyond horny so plz accept this brainrot :)

Cws: Various male characters x fem!reader, size kink (obviously), no full smut but it's still nsfw, use of a remote vibrator, manhandling, implications to public sex and exhibitionism, near accidental voyeurism from strangers, I wrote this with my pussy and im not sorry

~

He's just so much taller than you, his hands dwarfing yours as you cling onto him in public. The simple gesture seeming innocent to the many passers-by, just a couple holding each others hands as they shop; but little did they know, that each small squeeze conveyed much more than mere pda.

When you got home, however, he trapped you between the door and him, just outside of your shared apartment. His frame completely blotting out any light and casting a looming shadow over you as you fiddle with the keys.

It seems your plan to rile him up worked...

"You squeezed my hand so many times today, darling. I wonder.... were you mimicking the squeeze of something else?" His voice oozed with a playfully teasing tone that would've had you rolling your eyes, if you weren't desperate to get inside.

"P-please, you've b-been teasing me all d-day" you managed to say in a hushed tone, frowning as you looked up at him with big, doe eyes. "N-need you" you pressed your behind against his crotch, letting him feel how wet you are through the fabrics separating him from you. A low groan bubbles up from the very bottom of his throat at the action, slipping a hand under your skirt to tug at the string of the bullet vibratior stuffed inside your pussy, still running at full speed.

"Testing my limits, are ya? Even when you know fully well how easily I can manhandle you? How weightless I make you seem?" He pressed his fingers down heavily on your clit, sliding them down along with the sheer amount of slick that accumulated from his teasing all day. The obscene, audible squelching that came from between your legs as he did so made you shiver in his hold, embarrassed at how wet you got from his perverted idea.

"Tell me," His free hand lent against the door, completely caging you in; while his knee replaced the hand at your clit as said hand tilted your head up to look at him. He wanted your whole attention on him, just like he's been training you. "Would you prefer if I didn't hold back while out? Flip your skirt up in public and ravage you for anyone to see?"

Your skin burned against his fingertips as he held your face in place so you couldn't avert your gaze, the smirk adorning his handsome features a tell tale sign that he knew you were crumbling. Your fingers frantically turned the key in the lock, unlocking the door just in time for your hands to fly up to your mouth to muffle the moan that escaped you.

"Y-You shameless bitch..." you grumbled quietly, avoiding his gaze as he let your face go open the door for you like a gentleman; he's not that inconsiderate. You tried to walk normally, you really did; but with all the teasing that just occurred, your walk was more akin to a stumble.

"Want me to help you there, dearest?" His voice still had the irritatingly teasing tone as before, his fingers snaked down your back until they cupped between your legs; lifting you up effortlessly and bringing you inside.

Of course, he made sure you didn’t notice the neighbours, who’d just walked out as you were going in, and they saw nothing prior to coming out just now…. Well, nothing except for your boyfriend carrying you into your apartment in such a provocative way.

.

.

.

Oh, and the sheer amount of slick coating your inner thighs, and a small wet patch on the carpet outside the door.

~

Thinking of: Nikolai, Jouno, Dazai, Jing Yuan, Blade, Veritas Ratio, Alhaitham, Childe, Wriothesley, Zhongli, Volo, N Harmonica, Adaman, Douma, Kokushibo, Yorichi, Gyomeni, Tengen, + your faves/other fandoms

[f0point5]

literally anything with Max, Emilia, and Daniel please I’m begging after yesterday 🙏🙏🙏

No because this almost turned into a Singapore crack fic lol. But I saved it.

And yes I did listen to the song so that I could check this whole thing could happen within it’s time limit. But also this could so easily have been Tenerife sea but I Daniel-ed it up lol.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in April 2024✨

I’ll drink what you think, and I’m high

It’s getting dark later now. It’s 7pm and the sun in only now setting over the mountainside, turning the clear sky all manner of gold and peach and baby blue. It’s the first good weather of the month, which is what gave you the idea of sitting out on the rooftop patio. Daniel just happened to call Max as you were mixing a Bellini, which is how he’d got roped into what turned into what you’d dubbed a “Wine and Whine” evening.

So there Max sits, listening to Daniel talk about grape yields while you fiddle with the stereo. Max interjects at the right moments, but mostly he’s watching you bent over in a tight Missoni dress, trying to connect your phone Bluetooth to the speakers.

That’s how good the dress looks, Max thinks to himself. I even remember the name of the shop.

“So I’m like mate, I don’t know shit about grapes, that’s what I pay you for,” Daniel explains now. “And he’s looking at me like I’ve fucked his grandma in front of him. But I’m right. I drive cars for a living and I don’t even like grapes, that’s his job,”

“Yeah, but what if-“

Max is cut off by the sound of your squeal. He looks across the patio to see you bathed in golden light, sporting a bright grin.

“Danny, it’s your song,” you declare, teetering toward the boys on your wedge heels.

“She’s so pissed,” Daniel says through a chuckle.

“I heard that,” you shoot back, holding a hand out to him. “Now, dance with me,”

The gentle strumming of a guitar gives way to an American accent with a somber tone.

Daniel rolls his eyes but gets to his feet, taking your hand and pulling you along the concrete to the middle of the patio.

The music is not Max’s taste, not something he understands, but it’s…warm.

That’s how he feels watching Daniel pull you close, starting to sway you in small circles around the patio. He thinks about how both you and he needed Daniel before you needed each other, how Daniel had been your friend when Max was too scared to be, and he’d been Max’s friend even when it must have been like salt in a wound.

Daniel looks down and says something to you that Max can’t hear. Whatever it is, it is has you rolling your eyes in the way you do when you’re trying not to tear up. He watches you nod in what seems like agreement before shrugging your shoulders.

In the next breath, Max hears your voice singing along above the music.

“We all know, you tiptoed,” you sing, “up to six foot, in grill the grid,”

This pulls a deep, throaty laugh and a “fuck you” from Daniel, his head thrown back so much that he pulls you forward with him.

You’re singing at each other now, bodies shaking through laughter. The sound of a harmonica pierces Max’s ears as Daniel twirls you under his arm, your eyes catching the light of the setting sun as you turn.

Fuck. You are so beautiful.

“Max, come take over,” Daniel calls, beckoning him with one hand. “I need another drink,”

Max gets up and goes over to your swaying form just as Daniel lets you go. He pats Max on the back as he passes, turning to look at you both before he slips through the patio door, out of sight due to the reflection in the glass.

Your glassy eyes and the heat of your skin make Max think you’re probably looking at two of him right now, but he doesn’t mind, as long as you’re looking at him. He takes hold of you, fighting a smile at the way you sink into him in a way you wouldn’t with Daniel. Your hand slides around his neck and his instinctively goes to rest on the curve of your hip, bringing you so close he can smell your perfume and Sauvignon blanc.

In the background, the music picks up, the southern drawl a little more lively even though the words are still morose.

“I don’t get why you guys like this song,” Max says, guiding you out and then under one of his arms so that your back his against his chest. “It’s about a funeral,”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s about a family,” you tell him, craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Max nods, letting go of one your hands to spin you out and then back towards him. He catches you smiling at the effortless way he moves you around. He may not particularly like dancing but he’s been given three gifts in life. One is coordination. The second is control.

“It’s about the little things that stick with you about the people you love. The things about them that made you who you are,”

And the third is you.

He still doesn’t hear the song the way you do. He doesn’t see the world the way you do. But he knows he wants to listen to you explain the world to him for however long he’s in it.

“It’s about a funeral,” he says plainly, which only makes you shake your head.

“I love you, Max Verstappen.” Your words are as plain as his.

He wants to say it back. He even opens his mouth to try. But sometimes, like now, Max hates that word because it seems so wholly inadequate. He’s never been good with words anyway.

Instead, he kisses you, a kiss that tips you backwards, has you leaning into the hand on your back that holds you up. He can feel you smiling against his lips as he straightens.

When he pulls away, you follow him, placing one more peck on his lips before leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder as you continue to dance. Max notices then that the golden hues have left the sky, the colour now the same as the Japanese Cherry blossoms. He breathes in the scent of roses on your skin as he pulls you closer.

“What was he saying to you?” He asks quietly, his cheek moving against yours as he speaks.

“Who?” Your reply is lazy, almost a purr against his neck.

“Daniel. What did he say while you were dancing?”

Max doesn’t know how he can tell you smile at that, but he knows.

“Oh. Nothing,” you say. The music slows, and a woman’s voice joins the man’s against a single guitar. “He thinks we’re yuppies,”

[jflemings]

would you minds sharing any random jessie relationship headcanons you have? you write about it so well in your fics pls let us into your brain lol

— my oddly specific gf!jessie headcanons

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

warnings: nsfw & saw

a/n: got this ask and kept it in the drafts so i could just keep adding to it when a thought popped into my head :)

if any of my headcanons inspire fics please please please tag me!!! i’d love to see your take on them <3

- took soooooooo long to ask you out because she kept psyching herself out

- spoke with such confidence that it was honestly a shock to you when she told you she was nervous

- talked about you all the time to her friends and family before they ever actually met you

- introduces you to her sister before the rest of her family (mainly bc elysse begged to meet you)

– she has tiktok only so you can send her videos and you’re the only one she follows

– she takes soooo many photos of you

loves taking embarrassing ones just so she can laugh at them later

– sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door

– is an absolute pain in the ass to go furniture shopping w because she reads everything on the label

– early bird

– not super big on pda but insists on holding your hand everywhere you go

– she doesn’t really celebrate her goals but if she knows you’re in the crowd she’ll point to wherever you’re sitting and blow you a kiss

– if you get married she gets your first initial tattooed on her inner left bicep closest to her heart

– easily embarrassed by compliments

– likes to read her book with your head in her lap

– makes the best bacon and eggs, i don’t make the rules

– if you drink coffee you can bet your ass she memorised your order the first time y’all went out for coffee

– super clingy in the mornings

– makes a playlist of songs that reminds her of you/your relationship

– very attentive gift giver, will take note of even the smallest things you say you like for future reference

– if you’re a reader she’s got your tbr in her notes app so that if she sees a book you’ve been meaning to read she can just get it for you

– likes to give and receive flowers

– a rambler, she’ll talk your ear off if she gets talking about something she really enjoys

that includes you, she talks about you to her teammates all the time

– secret avid pet name user

babe, baby, my girl, sunshine, ALL OF THEM

- blanket hog

- the two of you make a pact to learn something new by the end of the year and she chooses to learn how to play the fucking harmonica

- she gets rlly good at it tho

- picks out your outfit for game days

- loves having baths with you

doesn’t get to do it often but when she does she goes all out: bath bomb/bath salts, candles, her kindle. the whole lot

- talks during movies if she doesn’t know what’s going on

“why’d he do that” “jess i don’t know, we’re watching the same movie”

- not a big tv series watcher but will sit with you while you watch it

- loves her documentaries though

- does a really good david attenborough impression

- is ridiculously competitive when it comes to monopoly and twister

- which is funny because she’s shit at twister

- likes to be close to you at all times

if the whole couch is free she’ll still sit next to you, thigh to thigh

- doesn’t like to argue but will if she feels strongly enough about it

- she can honestly be kinda condescending in arguments without even realising it

definitely comes from her role as a leader

- she asks you multiple times through the day what you’re thinking about just because she likes to know what’s going on inside you head

- likes to do normal, everyday things with you like chores. honestly doesn’t even care that she has to vacuum the whole house, she just likes that fact that the two of you are cleaning together

- as clingy as she is she also really likes her alone time and will often take herself to a corner of the house to just mellow out, especially if she’s been around people a lot that day

- she’ll always come and find you with a smile on her face when she’s ready to though

- loves to update you on her day when she’s away. she’s been known to send you photos of anything and everything when she’s with team canada

- likes to get you lil something from every city she visits if she can

- you display all the trinkets she gets you on a shelf

- when you first started dating she’d write you letters as a way to express her emotions because she didn’t feel like she could properly communicate them directly to you

she gives them all to you on your wedding day

- she’s just so so so so in love with you

NSFW

– generally soft during sex unless she’s high off a win, pissed off or been away from you for too long

– is a switch lol

– gets pleasure from you being pleasured, she’d eat you out for hours if you let her because she likes knowing that she can get you off

- also a biiiiiiiiiiiiig fan of using a strap, absolutely loves the way you look when she bottoms out

- is surprisingly vocal in bed

- has a massive praise kink it’s literally insane

- she came untouched once bc she was fucking you w her strap and you were telling her how good she was doing

- likes when you scratch down her back but can’t let you do it often bc of the shared change room

- once went to training with a scratched up back and sam never let her live it down

- isn’t super experienced but she is observant so she figures out what you like really early on

- made it her personal mission to fuck you on every surface of your new place when the two of you moved to portland

- is a big fan of morning sex

- not a big fan of shower sex

- also is a fan of make up sex

- tries to give you as many orgasms as physically possible in one round (four is her record) (she intends to beat it)

- aftercare queen

- is pretty firm with what she does and doesn’t like and isn’t usually one to go out of her comfort zone unless the two of you have discussed it before

- refuses to hit you during sex. she’s just not comfortable with it

- doesn’t really like choking either but she does like having her hand on the base of your neck without applying any pressure

also goes absolutely feral when you do it to her

- definitely prefers to have sex in the comfort of your own home

- the two of you got caught by niamh once because jess was too loud as you ate her out

neither of you could look her in the eye for about a week afterwards and jessie endured so much teasing

- isn’t one to have drunk sex but she does like just having her hands under your bra so she can cup your breasts. she doesn’t know why, it just happens when the two of you are going to bed after a night out

- is the biggest tease in the world

- will rile you up and then pretend she has no idea what she’s doing

- has insane stamina and will go for rounds until she physically can’t

- can get really cocky during sex, especially when she knows you’re about to cum

- if she’s had a really shit day/week she likes to be overstimulated just to get all of her negative emotions out

[mixtape-racha]

heaven is a place on earth | lee minho

watching you go through a rough breakup was hard enough for minho, regardless of the fact he was in love with you. now it was up to him to make you feel better // 18+ minors dni

words: 5.24k // warnings: best friend!minho x fem!reader, ex boyfriend!lee juyeon (mentioned), minho calls reader bub, reader calls minho bunny/bun, unprotected sex, drinking, brief mentions of recreational drugs, cursing, creampie, praise

minho couldn’t help but roll his eyes as you threw your phone down on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. why were you so hung up on this? it was literally just boy problems - you never gave a fuck before.

but at the same time – he got it. you were with this guy for 2 years, and all of a sudden he ended things just because (in his words) something “better” came along. what bullshit. there was no way his newest fuck of the season would ever compare to you.

it was a very conflicting situation for him. on one hand he wanted to tell you to pull yourself together, pour some shots and go get fucking blasted. but, at the same time, he wanted to wrap you up in blankets with ice cream, and cuddle you while you cried to shitty y2k movies.

it was complicated for him, so he could only imagine how you felt.

but as you let out another over-exaggerated sigh, he decided he’d had enough.

“(y/n), i swear to fuck if you sigh one more time i’m shoving a harmonica down your throat so i can at least get some entertainment out of it.”

looking up at you from the sofa bed tucked in the corner of your room, he was met with your flushed face - a huge pout adorned your lips and your eyes were watery and bloodshot. you looked awful.

for a moment he felt bad, but when he saw your eyes dart back down to your phone at the sound of a notification, all sympathy was lost. he lifted himself off the sofa, and snatched your phone away before you could pick up on what he was doing.

“minho! what the fuck?!” you cried, launching a cushion at him which he expertly dodged - this was far from the first time you’d tried to take him out with a pillow.

“no,” stuffing your phone in his pocket, he crossed his arms and glared at you in a way that had you looking away in embarrassment. “i didn’t come over to watch you wallow in self pity and pray that juyeon will call you and beg to take you back.”

as harsh as it was, you realized he was right. it wasn’t fair to have him over and not even pay attention to him. clearly, juyeon was over your relationship the second he ended it - all he’d been doing was going to parties and staying out all night with a new girl attached to his hip each time. and what were you doing? laying in bed with cookie dough ice cream and enough depressing romance movies to stock a video store.

it was with that realization that the tears started again - but at that point you were so used to them that you didn’t even notice. but minho did. minho always noticed. flopping next to you on your bed, he scooped you into a hug and began stroking your hair - it was a habit he’d had since the two of you were children, and one you much appreciated now.

“how about we check out changbin’s party tonight, hmm? we need to get you out of the house, but we can leave the party as soon as you want, yeah?” he suggested, fingers gracefully gliding between locks of your hair, and you nodded.

“okay, min… thank you.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- –

‘thank you’ his fucking ass. 

you’d only been at the party half an hour before you disappeared from minho’s side, and 20 minutes later he still couldn’t find you. sure, changbin’s parents had a big house, but this was fucking ridiculous.

last thing he knew, you were downing shots with felix. before that, playing beer pong with jisung, changbin and chan. hyunjin mentioned that you had stolen his drink not long before that. but now no-one knew where you’d gone - and honestly, most of them were too fucked up to care.

every time he thought he saw the back of your head, it appeared to be a completely different person. every time he heard giggling with one of your friends, it was a random girl who happened to have your hair color.

he had no idea where you’d disappeared to, and he was getting close to rounding up a damn search party.

until he saw juyeon laughing with his friends, and suddenly he knew exactly where you were. he didn’t know why he didn’t think of it sooner.

everytime you’d all hang out at changbin’s house, ever since you were children, you’d always had a designated hiding spot. whether it was because jisung was telling a scary story, and seungmin had made you all watch a horror film, or even during a game of hide-and-seek. the closet next to changbin’s sister's room was always your hiding spot.

without much other thought, minho darted up the stairs and down the third hallway to the right. he almost had the pathway embedded in his mind at this point. he knew you were also extra sensitive when you’d been drinking, and seeing juyeon may have pushed you over the edge.

when he opened the closet door and looked down to see you on the floor, curled in a ball with your hands over your face, he felt like he was eight years old again.

“why are you crying? girls are so silly.” minho laughed, grinning down at your delicate form, clinging to one of changbin’s stuffed animals.

he liked annoying you - you were the only one who stood up to him and it made him laugh even more. it was funny, seeing a girl be more loud and argumentative than his other friends.

but he also understood why you were crying; chan promised that ‘the witches’ was a good movie - and it was, but it was also terrifying. deep down, minho was scared too, but he didn’t want the boys to laugh at him.

really, minho didn’t know how to cheer people up, especially girls. you were the first girl he was friends with. but he knew people found it funny when he teased, so he teased you all the time to take your mind off of whatever was making you sad or scaring you.

and more often than not - it worked.

“sh-shut up. girls aren’t silly. you’re silly for thinking that.” was all you could get out, tucking into yourself further and trying to shut out the round-faced boy laughing down at you.

you knew he didn’t really mean it, that he was just trying to wind you up. but the face of the big, scary grand high witch was stuck in your head no matter what you did, and you hated it.

he stood there in silence for a second, trying to comprehend whether your sniffles were fake or not, before deciding to be the nice, good boy that his mom always told her friends that he was.

he scooted into the closet, sitting beside you before hesitantly placing a small hand on your shoulder.

“girl’s are silly, but you’re not silly. you’re our (y/n), and we wouldn’t be friends with you if you were silly.” he tried, hoping his words would be comforting. which, luckily, they were.

you lifted your head to smile tearily at him, before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“this is why you’re my favorite, min.”

he was always your favorite. he always had been, everyone knew it, and he probably always would be. but he was okay with that, because you were his favorite too.

almost instinctively, he crouched down, brushing your hair out of your face.

“you good, (y/n)?” he said softly, trying not to scare you with his voice.

you sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve before looking up at him with those big-doe eyes you often used to get your own way.

“he spoke to me like nothing had happened. like nothing we had mattered. can we please go?”

he nodded, holding his hands out to help you up before you could even finish your request. once you were stood, he shrugged off his jacket to wrap it around you and lead you downstairs towards the front door.

“are we not going to say goodbye?” you asked, brows furrowing as you looked over to where your friends were huddled in the kitchen.

but between the clouds of awful smelling smoke, and the hoards of people sharing baggies of pills and lines of powder, minho couldn’t bring himself to take you into the kitchen. not when you’d find juyeon in there too.

“i’ll message the group chat. c’mon, it’s supposed to rain in 10 minutes and i wanna get back to mine before that happens.” he decided, opting to help you out of the door instead.

he knew you were by no means drunk - you could handle your alcohol better than anyone he knew - but he was still worried about you. not only had you been drinking, been around weed, but you were also very emotionally fragile right now.

miraculously, it didn’t take long for the two of you to wind up at the entrance of minho’s dorm building, just managing to miss the rain as you climbed into the elevator up to the fifth floor. you stayed quiet the whole time, which only deepened minho’s worry and he internally cursed himself for suggesting a party of a host that juyeon was known to frequent.

you, on the other hand, were watching minho silently, trying to gauge his reactions. you knew that deep down he probably wanted to go back and give juyeon a piece of his mind - but he wasn’t a confrontational person so that was never going to happen. you could read minho like a book, and you could tell he was beating himself up for dragging you out, but honestly you could never bring yourself to be mad or upset with him.

so instead, you wrapped yourself around his arm and rubbed your cheek against his shoulder to grasp his attention.

“can i stay with you tonight? like– can we have a sleepover in your bed?” you mumbled, cheeks not hesitating to flush red at your choice of wording. you felt like a child again, asking minho to cuddle after seungmin made you watch chucky with him.

and just like that night all those years ago, minho couldn’t have agreed quicker. 

“of course, bub. we’ll stick a movie on and cuddle, yeah?” he grinned, ruffling your hair as he unlocked his front door. although he was roommates with jeongin and jisung, they had opted to stay at changbin’s tonight rather than come home drunk, so that was one less worry for him.

the second you were through the door, you peeled off your heels - your ankles were killing and you could guarantee you would have blisters the next morning. you knew they were a bad idea to begin with, but they were expensive and you had to get some use out of them before writing them off.

suddenly you felt a lot smaller than minho, falling a few paces behind him as he walked towards his bedroom. obviously, you were - at least a few inches - shorter than him, but you’d never noticed it so much, and it had never had your stomach clenching the way it currently was. god, you had definitely drunk too much.

but nonetheless, you followed behind him like a lost puppy as he rooted around in his drawers for a shirt and some boxers for you to sleep in like he always did. sleepovers for the pair of you were like routine, except you didn’t normally insist he sleep beside you, even when you’d been drinking.

he disappeared to the kitchen to get you both water bottles and pain killers for when you woke up, as well as a peach iced tea for himself and a cherry pepsi for you - you always had a bottle each when you watched a movie together. you quickly changed while he was out of the room, before joining him to choose a snack before bed.

“got any cheese puffs left?” you asked, nudging him as he rooted through his snack cupboard, pouting when he shook his head.

“pretty sure you and ji finished them last smoke sesh. i have pringles though?”

“oh, fuck yeah,” you giggled. “i’m calling dibs on the salt and vinegar ones.”

minho chuckled, passing you the tube. “i bought them for you anyway, you fucking sicko.”

it was an ongoing joke between the pair of you that the other had awful taste in crisps. you liked salt and vinegar, minho liked prawn cocktail, and you both detested the others choice in flavor. it was so much of a running joke that last time minho tried to open a pack of prawn cocktail crisps in your apartment, you locked him in the hallway until he’d finished them.

giggling at each other, and softly shoving each other in your own little world, somehow you managed to make it back to his room and curl up under his duvet, some - in his words - shitty little romcom on tv.

“hey, don’t diss twilight like that. i love these movies.” you pouted, flicking his forehead and grinning when he winced.

“okay, okay, sorry. makes sense though. you do have an awful taste in movies.” he muttered through a mouthful of crisps, poking your side to make you jump.

“dickhead.” you smiled, cuddling further into his side, the buzz of the alcohol slowly wearing off. but nonetheless, you stayed wrapped in your best friend’s arms as the movies continued playing and sleep began to befall you.

you didn’t know when you both had fallen asleep, but when you checked your phone the dimly lit screen told you it was 4am. you squirmed out of minho’s unnaturally tight grip, desperate to get some water but unable to find your bottle in the darkness of his room.

but no matter how hard you tried, his hands wouldn’t leave their grip on your - well, his - shirt. and fuck, did he just whimper? was he that desperate for you to stay curled up in his arms all night? that might have been the cutest thing you’d ever fucking heard.

so naturally, you gave up on the idea of water, opting to get straight back into your previous position, reveling in minho’s vulnerable state where he was actually willing to show you unlimited affection.

but…oh.

sure, you knew minho was a guy and he didn’t have control over it, but did he have a fucking boner? you didn’t know what to do. should you ignore it? should you wake him? should you leave and sleep on the couch?

you opted to gently nudge his shoulder, whispering to him softly.

“min, wake up. minnie, c’mon. wake up, bunny.”

a pout adorned his lips, and small whimpers kept falling until his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes opened lazily. maybe this wasn’t a good idea, because he looked really annoyed.

“what, fuckface?”

oh god. his voice was all raspy, and his eyes were still practically glazed over with sleep. why were you finding it cute?

“uh…” you didn’t know how to approach this, you were like a deer in headlights. “i think that– uhm… minho you’ve got a fucking boner and its all i can feel right now.”

curse your fucking word vomit. but minho’s cheeks flushed scarlet and he shot up, pushing you across the bed in the process.

“oh shit, i’m so sorry, (y/n)!”

why was he so upset? it was natural, and yeah a little uncomfortable, but you weren’t about to hate him for it.

“it’s fine, min. do you want me to go sleep on the couch so you can… uhm…” you gestured vaguely with your hands, both of you avoiding eye contact desperately.

“i love you, but there’s no fucking way i’ll be able to get off knowing you’re in my living room and know what i’m doing.”

minho’s first lie of the evening. honestly, the idea of you hearing him get off was wildly attractive to him, but he couldn’t admit that to you, could he? you were his best friend for crying out loud. and you were hurting tenfold from seeing juyeon so fresh after your breakup. he couldn’t think like that.

but you took his comment in your stride as always, rolling your eyes playfully and huffing.

“puh-lease,” you grinned, accentuating your words. “we both know that me hearing you get off would be the most action you’ve got in a while. you’re basically celibate.” you couldn’t help but giggle at yourself, especially with the way minho’s face twisted.

“whatever, loser. i could be the best fuck of your life and you wouldn’t even know it.”

oh. well, that sparked an idea in your head. you both loved teasing and pushing each other, and with your proximity and minho’s current predicament - why not see how far you could push it after all?

“oh, yeah? why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, lee minho.” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, grin ever growing as you watched the realization drop over minho’s face.

“what the fu– (y/n) did you just ask me to fuck you?” he looked bewildered, and honestly - he was. were you still drunk? was the breakup affecting you that much? …were you, like, mentally okay?

but you simply shrugged, moving to sit on your knees opposite your best friend. sure, it was a reckless move, but you would’ve been blind if you hadn;t picked up on the way minho treats you, and looks at you. friends don’t act the way he does towards you.

and honestly, you were single now, so what was stopping you? your mom always commented on how much juyeon looked like minho, and how you were projecting, but could she have been right? they were pretty similar after all, looks and personality wise, so was she that far from the truth?

were you so torn up about losing juyeon because it was the closest you’d get to dating someone like minho, or even your best friend himself?

you guessed it wasn’t just minho putting his money where his mouth was.

taking a deep breath, you shrugged at the boy opposite you again. “i guess i did. you said you could be the best fuck of my life? prove it. or are you all talk, hmm?”

what you weren’t expecting, however, was for him to be completely and utterly confused.

“are you– are you still drunk? what are you talking about? you’re still getting over juyeon, (y/n), i can’t fuck you while you’re out of it like that, and i’m not allowing myself to just be a rebound for you.”

“just… be a rebound? min, have you thought about this before?”

the sincerity in your voice proved to minho that you weren’t drunk like he wanted to assume. he wanted an easy way out of this, one where he didn’t ruin your friendship and didn’t have to face you remembering your words the next day - especially if this was a one-time rebound, or worse, a mistake.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking at you with those gorgeous cat-like eyes that you’d adored since you first met.

“yes. okay? yes, i have. i think about it a fucking lot, (y/n), okay? i think about fucking you senseless. but i also think about holding your hand, and taking you out, and looking after you when you’re sick and coming home to you after a rough day. is that good enough for you? can we please go to fucking sleep now?”

you were stunned.

absolutely, utterly and completely stunned. you never realized just how deeply minho may have wanted you. and you honestly weren’t expecting a dampness to form between your legs at his words - especially confusingly, you were more turned on at the domestic stuff. he really wanted that with you?

“but, min… why didn’t you say?”

“because you were with juyeon, (y/n). you were happy. you were in love. and i’m just your best friend, i couldn’t take that away from you just to get my feelings off my chest. are you going to sleep or not?”

you could tell he was embarrassed, he was never good at hiding that. you could also tell he wanted you to drop it, to forget what he said. he cherished you too much as a friend to lose you like this. but you wanted more.

you wanted to know everything. you wanted to understand what was going on inside his head. you wanted to fall for him the way he had fallen for you; and honestly you were already more than half way there.

it had always been minho, and it took 2 years with a shitty ex, a drunken meltdown, a sleepy boner and a heart wrenching confession for you to realize that. god, you were so stupid.

grasping his hands softly, you threw all common sense to the wind and went with what your heart and gut were pushing you towards. everything suddenly made sense, everyone thought you were together anyway. why not screw your courage to the sticking place? why not take a chance, a risk, of finally taking what - deep down - your heart had always wanted?

“minho,” you started softly. “please. make me fall for you so hard my breath gets swept away. make me miss you even when we’re together. make me need you like an antidote to the world’s worst poison. i want all of it. all of you.”

and while you had rendered him speechless many times over the course of your friendship, he was not expecting that in the slightest. unknowingly, he squeezed your hands, brows furrowing as his nose twitched (you didn’t call him bunn for no reason, after all). he looks down-right adorable.

but as your eyes wandered, taking in all his features, your mind quickly flipped. his predicament. the one that got you here. he was almost throbbing in his boxers, his tip leaking and staining his boxers so prettily at your words. did you really have that much control over him? it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“let me prove it, hmm? how about i help you out, bunny?” you teased, eyes fixed on the spot between his legs, his cheeks heating at your suggestion.

“don’t fuck with me right now, bub, seriously. i’m not doing this if you’re not in your right mind. i couldn’t do that to you. please,” you could’ve sworn his eyes were glistening - with excitement or fear you weren’t sure. “i just– fuck i’ve needed you for so long i can’t have it ripped away from me.”

“i’m sure, min. i promise. i’m a hundred percent sure, more sure than i ever have been. i need you to fuck me silly, and make me yours.”

it was like a flip switched in his head, and his gaze hardened at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. so pliant, so willing. so needy.

“i’m gonna kiss you now, yeah?” he spoke softly, hands reaching out, itching to hold you in them. all it took was a simple nod from you, and he captured your lips with his own with so much heat that you felt like you were on fire.

had you reached heaven? you were almost sure you had with the way minho manhandled you onto his lap, your core mere inches away from his cock, and it had your heart doing backflips. just two thin pieces of material, keeping you from feeling all of him. your hands tangled in his hair as he began pressing hot kisses to your neck, long swipes with his tongue after his teeth pressed into the surface of your skin enough to make you hiss softly.

his hands were on your hips, a place they’d been many times before when he’d been comforting you, but this… this was so much better. this had an end goal with you collapsing into his arms, tired and spent. this had an end goal of you waking up next to him tomorrow, able to do it all again. because you were his, and you were damn sure he was yours.

you didn’t even notice you’d began grinding your core onto his until his fingers dug into your skin, halting you to a stop. he pulled away from your neck, already out of breath, and his pupils blown wide.

“don’t.” he hissed, his tone and the look on his face making you clench around nothing. “don’t do that, or i’ll bust in my pants. i don’t wanna be cumming anywhere but inside you, yeah?”

you keened at his words, a whine spilling from your lips. yeah, you wanted that. wanted that more than you needed to breathe. why were his words affecting you this much? you felt all fuzzy, all safe and warm. it was never like this with juyeon – it was all missionary, his face screwed up above you when he came as soon as you started to feel something, waiting until he fell asleep to pull out your favorite vibrator.

but minho… he was like magic. every touch had your skin lighting up, every kiss making your knees weak. he couldn’t be human, no ordinary man could do that. but you supposed he was no ordinary man. he was minho. your minho. he always had been, and he always would be. and you couldn’t be happier for realizing that.

you could’t help but pull miho’s hands off you, shushing his protests as you raised your hips to rid yourself of his shirt and boxers - now, unfortunately, soaked in your slick, his actions having more of an effect on you than you ever thought possible.

it took him a second to fully comprehend your actions, but he quickly scrambled to do the same. clearly, he’d been waiting a long time for this, and you were going to make him wait much longer. not when you needed him too.

his cock sprung free from its restraints, and it was like tunnel vision had taken over. it was… really pretty. not too long, but not too thick. a delicious blush of red coating his tip, but not angrily red. the drip of precum leaking making your core clench beautifully. and that curve… yeah, minho was going to make you scream, no doubt about it.

“like what you see?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, flipping him off.

“would like it more if you were inside me, jackass.”

and before you knew it, he had you pinned underneath him, his grip on your wrists held either side of your head both too tight and not tight enough.

“don’t wind me up, bubs. not when i can leave you here begging for me to let you cum, yeah?”

his tone had you feeling like you were floating, your brows furrowing as your hips bucked - a silent beg for him to just hurry up and get on with it. he could be the brat tamer he needed to be, and that you desperately wanted, later but right now you just needed him to fuck you senseless.

“besides, i don’t really think you’re in a position to demand, are you?”

that was all it took for you to decide you needed him inside you right at that second. you unhooked your hand from his hold and reached down between your bodies, grasping his leaking cock gently. he hissed at the action, turning into a groan as you lead the tip to your folds - letting your wettess spread between the two fo you like wildfire.

“please, min. i need you to fuck me..” you whimpered, teasing his cock against your clit, and flinching at the stimulation.

“fuck,” he whispered, hips rocking on their own accord, your slick overwhelming all his senses. “okay, fuck, yeah, gonna ruin you, bub.”

he used your guidance to push his length into you gently, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he left out a moan at the way your walls fluttered around him. inching in slowly, you could’ve sworn you’d never felt so full. it was like heaven on earth.

when he finally bottomed out inside you, he pressed a searing kiss to your lips, one hand next to your hips to hold himself up, while the other was holding your face, his scent filling all of your senses at once.

he began rocking his hips gently as you let out a moan into his mouth, his tongue carressing yours in a way that had you ascending closer to an orgasm than any man had ever brought you. it was embarrassing, wasn’t it? he’d barely been inside you for a minute and you were desperate to coat his cock in your cum.

when your lips detatched, you both instinctively reached to plant sloppy kisses and bites against whatever skin you could reach. god, you wanted to be covered in him. wanted the world to know he’d taken ownership of you. wanted to do the same to him.

it was hot, and sticky, and sweaty, but it was perfect. minho’s cock dragging against your gummy walls, you clenching around him every time his teeth dug a little too deep into your shoulder. why hadn’t you done this sooner?

you could tell he was getting close when he wrapped a hand around your hips, fingers digging in as his thrusts began to get sloppy and unfocused. god, you hoped you had a bruise where he’d held you tomorrow. 

as you nipped at you lips, initiating another kiss, you reached your hand down between you to rub your clit in time with each stroke of his hips. you had to cum with him, you needed to. more than anything.

you felt your high approaching fast, your walls fluttering and clenching madly as he moaned and whined against you. his hips were quickly losing their pace, and you can he just wanted to cum and paint your walls with his seed. maybe he just needed some encouragement…

“c’mon, bun. make a mess in me, yeah? need to feel you cum inside me, bunny, please.” you begged, rubbing your clit faster, trying to bring yourself to release for him.

and miraculously, it worked. he thrusted a few more times, before his hips halted and you felt him drenching your insides white. every throb of him cock, every push of more cum leaving him. it sent you over the edge, your head throwing back as you cried out.

the way your walls tightened around him milked him dry, yet he pushed through the overstimulation so shallowly fuck you through your orgasm, which you greatfully appreicated.

once you had both taken a moment to catch your breath, he began peppering your face with sift kisses to take your mind away from the sting of him pulling his softening cock from your hole.

“did so well, bubs,” he muttered, accentuating each word with a kiss. “so, so proud of you. took me so well, baby.”

your heart soared, eyes tearing up slightly which took him by surprise. you shushed down his questions quickly, because you were more than okay. in fact, you’d never been better.

“i just– i love you. i love you so much, lee minho.”

“i love you too.”

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @bunniieesstuff @torixx80

[hihomeghere]

Charles fluff and maybe even a tad bit of angst given the prompts, who knows, but please write prompt 48 and 64 for Charles I will literally die of joy plus we need more fluffy fics of him <333

- ੈ✩ 🍡 ‧₊˚

Word count : 1230 Warnings/tags : love confessions, fluff, cursing Prompts : #48, You make me want things I can't have #64, I'm not sure what to do with these feelings for you hope you enjoy, smooches!

Charles was an enigma. Joining the gang nearly seven months ago, he seamlessly fit into the band of outlaws. He kept his head down, taking it upon himself to complete tasks before Miss Grimshaw lost her mind about them. 

Like a well oiled machine he moved around camp, fixing what needed to be fixed, getting done what needed to be done. Whether that be fixing a wagon wheel, or carrying bales over to the horses. He did it without complaint and unprompted. 

He moved like a shadow, silently, not speaking unless spoken to first. Even at that he would normally only respond with one word answers, yes, no. You had been wary of him at first. Not appreciating his almost cold presence. Although the longer you got to know him you saw through his standoffish persona, seeing the warm, passionate man underneath. To others he may have seemed unwelcoming, a puzzle that wasn’t worth solving. But you had always liked a challenge.

You couldn’t say what had first drawn you to him. It wasn’t like a moth to a flame, no. It was gradual, like a ship pulled towards a lighthouse. Something about him was like a beacon, calling to you across the stormy seas of life. Perhaps it was the way the morning light fell against his dark locs, deep golden beams cutting through his silky strands. Or the way the firelight made his umber skin glow as he sat around the fire. Always offering his assistance when anyone seemed to struggle. His near obsidian eyes piercing your very soul every time they found yours. You picked him apart piece by piece, longing for him to bear the most intimate parts to you.

Or maybe it was because he played so damn hard to get. You thought you were being obvious in your affection. If it was anyone else, even someone as daft as Sean would have realized your intentions.

Instead, when you asked for him to accompany you to the general store, or if he wouldn’t mind your company around the fire, he would only give you a small nod. It was infuriating. Either he was too kind to reject your advances, or he seriously couldn’t see how much you cared for him.

But you were not a woman to give up so easily, you doubled down your efforts. You would go out of your way to interact with him. Damn near running to grab a seat near him whenever you heard him start to play the harmonica. Your eyes constantly searched for him at camp, which did earn you a scolding or two when you were supposed to be doing chores. It was well worth Miss Grimshaw’s tongue lashing every time.

How were you supposed to focus when he would bring that axe down, his arms glistening with sweat. Or when his skillful fingers fashioned poisoned arrows, grinding up the Oleander he had carefully picked. 

He was kind, thoughtful with a dry sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. You would consider him a friend even if you wanted something more. The thought that you could ruin what you had between the two of you, just because of your traitorous heart, ran a chill through you. A few times you had suspected he might feel the same, but nothing would come from a lingering glance or his fleeting touch.

Any time you had a free moment you would come up with something to talk to him about. Karen and the other girls had taken to teasing you. Although their words caused heat to flood your cheeks, you knew they weren’t wrong. You were sweet on him. Perhaps you weren't as clear in your feelings as you hoped, perhaps you needed to bite the bullet and just come clean about your feelings.

“Charles, do you have a moment?” You asked, giving him a small smile. Hoping your calm demeanor would hide the anxiety building under the surface. Butterflies erupting in your stomach as his dark eyes found yours.

“For you, always.” He nodded, setting down the piece of wood he was whittling. You discreetly wiped your sweaty palms off on your skirt as he got to his feet. “Lead the way.”

The two of you walked down to the sandy shore near camp. Staring out at the rippling surface of Flat Iron lake. 

“Charles I-“ you bit your lip, the words getting caught in your throat as you looked up at him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Alright…” His tone was apprehensive as he looked at you.

“I…” You picked at your fingers, sinking slightly into the sand below your feet. “I care for you.” You said raising your eyes to meet him. 

His face was near emotionless other than the small furrow of his brows. 

“I care for you and-“

“Don’t.” He cut you off, his jaw clenched as his hands landed on his hips. “Don’t say anymore.” You swallow thickly, trying to get past the lump that’s growing in your throat. Your heart sinking like a stone into your stomach.

“I just- I don’t know what to do with these feelings for you.” You said softly, his rejection stinging like a slap to the face. He squeezed his eyes shut, like your words were physically paining him.

“Damn it you-“ He sighed, shaking his head, “you make me want things I can’t have.”

“What?” You asked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. 

“You. You make me want you and I- I can’t have you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted you. Your mouth fell open, stunned to silence by his confession. He let out a frustrated sigh, turning to walk away from you. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“Why the hell not?” You asked, shaking your head.

“Y/n, look at me. Look at us. We’re from two different worlds and I won’t- I won’t subject you to my suffering.” He finished, anguish shining in his eyes. 

“When have we ever played by the rules?” You scoffed lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t care. I don’t care where you come from, I just care about you. Who you are.” You raised your hand slowly, giving him all the time to pull away. You cupped his face, running your thumb over his scarred cheek. “I- I’m falling for you Charles.” You admitted.

“Damn it.” He sighed, his eyes shut tight as he looked down. As though he was wrestling with himself, eventually one side won. His eyes raised to meet yours, nearly taking your breath away as he caught your gaze. 

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. You squeaked, your body tensing before you melted into his embrace. Your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him close.

The two of you parted for air, his forehead resting against yours. “You have no idea how hard this has been, trying to avoid you, ignore you, your touches,” He mumbled against your lips. “You’ve driven me crazy.” A smile spread across his lips.

“Drove you crazy? I was suspecting you might just be oblivious.” You chuckled breathlessly, shaking your head as you cupped his cheek. He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. 

“Not oblivious, just a fool.”

[cielwritings]

Could I request Ciel having a best friend who can play 13 instruments?

! Ciel with a really.. REALLY talented friend !

if only i could do this man...

It was a gradual thing. First, you showed off your skills with the piano. Then the violin, then the cello...

Then it started to get ridiculous. No way you're human.

"Sebastian, I want you to be true with me. Are they a demon?" Ciel would ask quietly, as he watched you play the bugle.

"I cannot sense any demonic energy from them, my lord. I sense a confident and clear-cut soul, if anything."

Ciel simply stared at you with a gaze that screamed jealousy... and interest.

You two started to become friends when he offered to pay you to give him lessons certain instruments. While Sebastian was a little jealous he picked you, he didn't put up a fight and let it happen.

The instrument he had you attempt to teach him was the guitar. Alas, the strings broke on him.

So he tried the jew harp. He chipped a tooth.

Surely he couldn't mess up a harmonica-

He had an asthma attack. He got too cocky with a complicated piece and had an asthma attack.

.....

You still tease him about that, even if Sebastian gives you a glare every time you do. Ciel doesn't mind it as much as he does, rather, Ciel finds it fairly amusing how you can find his misfortune funny.

You two became closer and closer by the day. He opened up more and more to you, expressing his nightmares (but never what they're about). If you stay over and he has one, you and Sebastian will be by his side in an instant.

While Sebastian refuses to leave unless ordered to, Ciel takes it to his advantage. He'll get Sebastian to tell him a story while you play a soft instrument to set the mood. He's out like a light halfway through it.

One of his favorite things to hear you play is the piano. An old but gold choice, isn't it? There's just something charming about the way your fingers dance along the keys. Your body swaying and moving with how intense you'll get.. it's almost like he's watching a musical performance!

Sometimes you'll be there with him and Sebastian, playing music while Sebastian teaches him how to dance. Elizabeth wouldn't want to slow dance forever, so they do numerous genres. Perfect for how many instruments you know!

Of course, Ciel still sucks at dancing. It's the thought that counts, right?

[foone]

My one bit of advice I think every gamer should hear:

GO PLAY OUTER WILDS.

Seriously. It is easily one of my top 5 games of all time, and that's mainly because I'm being cagey about if it's the #1, because it probably is.

It's a game where you're a little alien who is taking their first flight into space, in their little spaceship. You go to space and find a mystery, and have to figure it out.

It's a game entirely about learning things about the world you're in: it's a tiny solar system modeled amazingly well, with varied planetary environments, archaeology, and quantum fun.

It's a game that's hard to talk about without spoiling, because it's about solving the mysteries. There used to be some other aliens here, they're long gone. What happened to them? Their whole society was built around trying to find something: what was it? Did they find it? And there's a weird disastrous event that keeps happening, why? Can you stop it? Should you stop it? Is it connected to the other weird things that keep happening? What happened to that ice planet that exploded with vines? One of the astronauts who came before you was the best pilot who ever lived, but they vanished. What happened to them? And why can you sometimes hear their harmonica over the radio when you point it at your own planet?

The game is wonderful and non-linear and the most unique approach to a Metroidvania I've seen years: it's basically "what if we did the Metroidvania idea but with no items or power ups? What if the thing that you got to unlock new areas WAS INSIDE THE PLAYER'S HEAD?"

Because you don't unlock the next area by picking up the high-jump boots, you unlock it by learning something new. Now you can do something you didn't realize you could before, but now you know you can.

And that's only one of the amazing concepts they stuffed in this game. The itemless Metroidvania, the tiny simulated solar system, the quantum mechanics... Each of these alone could be enough to carry an indie game. They stuffed them all in one game combined with a great story, and that's in a gamewith relatively little dialogue!

There's like a dozen people to talk to, but you spent a lot of time reading conversations left by the long-gone aliens. You get to know them, what they were working for, how they interacted, and what happened to them, thousands of years later. It's less the bioshock style audio-logs, and more like going over bits of ancient writing, making connections and correlations from the fragments you can find.

And don't get me wrong, this might sound like this game is going to be dry and boring: it is so very not. It is a game about mysteries in the void of space, the death of a civilization, and the potentially world-ending dangers that face a living one, and even bigger concepts. It could so easily be a cosmic horror, about the cold death of space and the universe itself, and the nihilism of realizing that even a race that could cross the gap between the stars and bend spacetime to their will... They too died out. If they couldn't make it, what hope do you have, in your little spaceship that's primarily made of WOOD?

And yet... The game is always engaging. It has a few scares, and space is never a safe place to be, but it maintains a sense of humor and wonder. Yes, the universe can be scary, but it's also amazing. And you're just a little salamander-guy who wants to see it all, and figure out all the things. Maybe you don't know something yet, but tomorrow is a new day, and you can go blasting off to another planet, find some writing in a city suspended upside down over a black hole, try to fly into the core of a water planet, dodge giant anglerfish inside the warped space of an exploded planet, and try to explore an ancient city that's slowly filling with sand. It is a game about Things Ending, and it refuses to give into despair. It is one of the most relentlessly optimistic games I have ever played.

And the experience of playing it is so unique. This isn't a game where you could watch a letsplay and only get spoiled on some plot points, it's a game where the fundamental gameplay loop is about learning things. You should try it for yourself. It's got hints and many different avenues to explore (and it even keeps track of them for you, in case you forget!), so you don't have to worry much about getting stuck for too long. You can always put aside a "puzzle" and come back later, after you've learned more. (I put puzzle in quotes because it's not exactly a puzzle game. It's more of a mystery game. You aren't solving a logic puzzle or putting the pegs into the right holes, you're asking "Why is this like this? Where does this go? What is this for?" and then figuring that out from clues)

It's like 25$ on steam, and you can get it for Playstation and Xboxes as well (sadly no Switch version. They were working on one but it seems that version has stalled, with no announced release date)

You can probably get it for like 10$ if you're patient and wait for a sale.

One final note: there's also a DLC. The DLC is fully self-contained, in that you won't miss anything playing the main game without it. It basically adds a huge side-area to the game which goes and fills in some gaps in the history, explains some things, and introduces some more variety to the Outer Wilds universe.

It's utterly amazing, too. It's basically Outer Wilds 2 in everything but name, but it's totally fine to just grab the base game and play that. You can always come back and grab the DLC later if you want more Outer Wilds.

Seriously. To sum up, Outer Wilds is one of the greatest games ever made, it won a ton of awards, and it should have won more. They should invent more gaming awards just to give to Outer Wilds. This is one of the games that is going to be talked about in future "history of gaming" classes and put on lists of the 50 most groundbreaking and influential games, alongside things like Myst and King's Quest and Zork and Mass Effect. It's just that good, that groundbreaking.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 5: If You Gotta Go, Go Now - Bob Dylan

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: angst, crying, heartbreak, high school breakups, estranged parent/strained parental relationship, depression, high school drama, anxiety, mentions of drinking, drinking, mentions of hookups/one night stands, unrequited love, very brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation, PTSD mentions/explanations of reactions and behaviours due to PTSD, mentions of addiction/drugs, smoking, swearing, best friend fluff, sorry if i miss any!

Hi everyone!! Sorry this took so long—took a much needed break from life for a few days. Finally had some time to write this weekend. I hope you guys like it!! 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Her POV

“Listen to me, baby

There’s something you must see

I want to be with you, gal

If you want to be with me.”

“Jake, please turn that off. I can’t stand it.” You laughed, covering your ears as you tried your best to disappear under the pile of blankets on his bed.

“What?” Jake asked, freezing in place as the words reached his ears. Slowly, he turned from the record player sitting atop his desk, his eyes landing on you with an unfamiliar expression on his face. “Did you really just say that?” His voice was low, challenging you to see if you would say it again, or if he misheard completely.

“Yes.” You groaned, pushing your head further back into the fluffy pillow as you tried your best to avoid his gaze. “I’m sorry, I love you, but I can’t stand Bob Dylan.” You stood your ground, knowing it would cut deep but unable to hide it any longer.

“Are you insane?” Jake’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape with shock as he processed your unruly confession. “How can you not love Dylan? Are you deaf?”

“No, but right now I wish I was.” You mumbled, tuning out the grating harmonica echoing through the room. The crackling of the needle in the groove paired with the irritating pitch of the instrument was making your head ache, and even if you loved him more than anything, you didn’t love him enough to suffer through another song.

“Y/N, I-I… I can’t believe you.” He laughed, his tone airy and uncomfortable as he cranked the volume knob down a little bit. “Sunshine, he’s one of the greats—a literary genius, a folk-rock icon, a fuckin’ mastermind. How can you even say that?”

“I dunno, guess it just isn’t for me. Never really liked him.”

“You’re breaking my heart, baby.” His lips turned down into a frown, his eyes glancing at the vinyl record spinning as he debated turning it off. “You know what? No, I won’t take that as an answer.” He shook his head, turning the knob up again so the sound of the harmonica could be heard clearly again.

“Jake.” You groaned, wishing he would heed your request to change the record. He restarted the song, a hand on his hip as he observed the needle glide over a divot in the old vinyl. Then, after a particularly intense scratching sound, the song started from the beginning again.

As the lyrics began, he started to hum along, ploppping down on the bed beside you. His company made the song a touch more bearable, and staring at his face made it easier to ignore the noise he was trying to pass off as music.

“Seriously, sunshine? None of it?” He asked, still trying to wrap his head around your dislike for the musician.

“It just isn’t for me. Is that a crime?” You giggled, finding his overbearing approach entertaining.

“Usually no, but in this case, absolutely.” He laughed. “Only thing worse than that is if you said you hated B.B. King… or Hendrix, maybe.”

“Okay, well I don’t hate B.B. King, or Hendrix. You can’t let this one slide?” You grinned, shimmying down on the bed to be closer to him. He almost gave in to the temptation, forgetting the topic at hand momentarily as he reached out to brush the hair from your face. Then, he snapped out of the lovestruck trance and remembered why he was sitting next to you in the first place.

“If I let this slide, what’s next? You’ll tell me you hate rock, or blues, or worse, music all together?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing but still very petty over your dislike of the artist.

“Okay, bug, you’re being ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his in another attempt to distract him.

“I’m being ridiculous?” He repeated your words, his tone accusatory yet still playful. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Okay, I get it. Dylan is great and I’m crazy. Is that what you want to hear?” You leaned forward, your hand connecting with his bicep as you gave him a gentle shove. He barely moved from his position, his brown eyes sparkling as he looked over your face.

“No, that’s not what I want to hear, because I know you’re lying.” He said, his thumb drifting over the back of your hand. “What about I Shall Be Released? That’s a great song by him.” Your cheeks tinted red in embarrassment as you averted your gaze.

“Don’t think I’ve heard it.” You whispered, unsure how he would take it.

“Okay…” he hummed, raising his free hand to his chin, running his fingers over his skin as he thought. “No, that’s good. I can show it to you, and you’ll like it.” He deducted. “Like a Rolling Stone?”

“That one’s okay.” You emphasized the word, ensuring he understood it was bearable, not enjoyable to you.

“Tangled Up In Blue?” He tried again, met with another blank stare as he listed off a song you didn’t know. He let out a huff, nodding as he made a mental note to show you that one, too. “Alright, then. Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door?”

“Yeah, but I’d much rather listen to the Guns n’—“

“No, I’m going to stop you there.” Jake cut you off, forcing a smile on his lips. “Not sure I want to hear the rest of that.” A silence fell upon the two of you, leaving him to ponder all of the information you had given him. After a while, your stomach was twisted in a knot, worried you’d driven a stake between you because of a simple dislike of the artist.

“So, what now? I don’t like Dylan, which is clearly troubling for you. Is that it for us?” You were joking, even if there was a slight hint of genuine concern behind your question. He looked at you, appalled that you would even suggest such a thing.

“Are you crazy, woman? F’course not.” He replied, a frown tugging at his lips just from the thought alone.

“Been called that once or twice… few times today, actually.” You grinned, easing the tension between you.

“I’d never break up with you over that, sunshine.” All of the humor in his tone disappeared, assuring you that leaving was not something that ever crossed his mind. “But, I won’t quit until you’re a fan. Lots of opportunities here, babe. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be his biggest fan.” You rolled your eyes ever so slightly, but nodded along with his words, knowing he would try even if you objected. Arguably, the worst thought was not hours of listening to Bob Dylan, but the idea of him ever being ‘done’ with you, in any sense of the word.

“Y/N, that is enough.” Mel snipped, rushing into your bedroom with a cloud of dust trailing behind her. In two quick strides, she was beside you, reaching over you to smash the pause button on the CD player. “It’s been three days—I’m done watching you cry, I’m done sitting in silence, and I’m done listening to this fucking Bob Dylan song.” As much as she cared for you, everyone had a breaking point, and she was undoubtedly long past hers. If you were less miserable, you would have recognized how insufferable your actions were, but you were too busy drowning in tears to care about how anyone else felt. “I’m one more bottle of wine away from an intervention, and I’m sure that’s the last thing you want right now.”

“God, why can’t you just let me suffer in peace?” You groaned, burying your aching head in your knees as you sunk further into the leather desk chair.

“I’ve been letting you suffer, dumbass.” She reminded you, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “But I’d hardly call it peaceful.” She continued, placing her hand on the arm of the chair and spinning you to face her. “You’re a mess. You’ve been drunk since two, you haven’t eaten, you’ve barely slept, and you look like shit.”

“Thanks for the words of encouragement.” You muttered, reaching for the wine bottle on your desk to finish off the last of the strawberry flavored heartbreak medication. Before you could place the bottle to your lips, Mel snatched it from your hands and placed it on the floor just out of reach.

“You smell like a distillery. Think you’ve had enough.” She chirped, her expression stern and her voice curt. You scoffed a reply, irritated at the world as you reached over to press play so you could listen to the same harmonica melody that had become an anthem of your sorrow once again. “Stop.” She pulled your chair a little closer to her so you couldn’t reach the desk. “I love you, but I cannot listen to that song again. I can’t fucking stand Bob Dylan.”

“What?” You hissed, whipping your head in her direction. Finally, an emotion other than sadness plagued you; instead, you were filled with anger that she could say such a thing. “Bob Dylan is a great musician, one who wrote absolute masterpieces. Watch what you fuckin’ say.” A slight slur followed your words, making you realize you were much more intoxicated than you previously believed.

You weren’t sure if you actually grew to like Bob Dylan and his music, or if the fondness happened because of the boy who was so adamant about changing your mind on the matter.

“God, you’re impossible.” She seethed, frustrated with your behavior and even more upset that she couldn’t break through the wall you built up.

Mel had spent years perfecting the craft of being your best friend; you were a confusing, closed off vessel of constant anxiety. You hated talking about your feelings, unless it was over a mixed drink or a shared blunt, and you were your own worst enemy. You second-guessed every decision, talked yourself down from taking leaps that would better you in exchange for mundane familiarity, and you loved routine. Despite that, you loved deeply and with a fervor not many could understand, which ultimately always seemed to leave you with a broken heart when nobody could match the same energy.

In six years, she climbed mountains not many would ever venture. She memorized your quirks and habits, just the same as you had done for her. More than anything, she put it to good use and learned how to help when you couldn’t find it within you to help yourself. Every wall you built up, every deflection and every distraction was never a match for her counterpoints, and she had never faced a situation where she felt helpless.

Never, until three days ago, when you returned from your date with Jake Kiszka more heartbroken and miserable than ever before.

In six years, she learned everything she could about you, but she never understood why. Once she stepped foot in Michigan, learning about a life you’d sworn to keep a secret forever, it all began to make sense.

Days before she met you, you faced the biggest obstacle of your entire life, and you left your heart in the back pocket of someone you never expected to see again. You didn’t talk about your problems because you knew they could never amount to the struggle of leaving Jake, and because you got through that on your own, you believed you could do everything by yourself. Not only that, but you kept your feelings locked up in fear all of it would come out, including those in which you swore to never speak aloud. You closed yourself off from everything because you couldn’t bear the thought of getting hurt like that again, and routine was favored over risk-taking because your last risky decision left you near death and you never fully recovered.

Though, no matter how hard you tried, you could never love less than what you were programmed for, and it was biting you in the ass as you sat and forced yourself to listen to a song you couldn’t bear to hear again.

When you stormed through the front door, twenty bucks down from the cab ride and suffocating on your own misery, you had intent to tend to your wounds silently, to slap a band-aid over the largest injury you’d ever sustained and move on as if it never happened at all. You’d done it once before, and you trusted in yourself to do it again, but six years of suffering in silence had taken its toll and you were beginning to crack under the weight of your mistakes.

Difference was, this time, there was someone there to catch you before the fall, someone who was committed to your wellbeing and a voice of reason you never had before.

At first, Mel took a step back, understanding that whatever happened wasn’t good, and you needed time to process it before you spoke of it. If not, you would explode, and neither of you wanted to clean up that mess. So she did; she sat by and watched you nurse a bottle of wine as you listened to the mixtape that started (and ended?) it all, waiting until you had enough courage to speak. When you dozed off for an hour or two of broken sleep in the desk chair you drank yourself to oblivion in, you woke up and started all over again.

The next day, she thought that maybe you would have come to terms with it enough to at least tell her something, but she received nothing. Well, nothing except for the same Dylan song played on loop and a few more empty bottles of strawberry wine you’d silently left the house to buy. When you refused dinner, she started to really worry, and when you neglected to sleep for a second night in a row, she began to stress. In the early morning, she started to gently coax you into telling her what happened, which was met with a blank stare and a rude hand gesture. Before noon, she pried a little further, to no avail. At lunchtime, she was frustrated, and now after dinner, she was long past the point of no return.

Coddling you clearly wasn’t an option you were open to, so instead she settled on tough love, which would either break through to you or ruin your friendship entirely.

She was distraught enough to take the risk, and loved you enough to work through the consequences.

“Tell me what happened, or I’ll call him and ask him myself.” Mel warned, unrelenting as she continued to try and force the truth from you.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned, tears pooling your eyes at the simple thought of someone speaking to Jake, someone who was not you. “Just let it go, Mel. It’s over—don’t have to talk about it, don’t have to think about it. It’s over.” You repeated the word, feeling a separate stab in your chest each time the word passed through your lips.

After everything the two of you went through, how could it just be over? How could the time still not be right?

“No, you don’t have to talk about it, but clearly you’re thinking about it.” She countered, her lips pursed as they dipped down into a frown. “And you won’t stop thinking about it unless you talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You grumbled, feeling the pressure behind your eyes increase tenfold as you spoke. Your throat was dry, scratchy despite the constant flow of liquid into your mouth. You were dehydrated, the effects in full force as your eyes throbbed and your stomach twisted with nausea. You were a mess, and you weren’t sure how to clean yourself up this time. “After all the pain, after all of the hope and the luck, it meant fucking nothing. I guess it just isn’t meant for us, and I have to get over it.”

“What happened, Y/N?” Mel pried, wondering what could have caused the state you were in, especially after spending all night with him.

“What happened?” You scoffed, a sour taste in your mouth from her words. “What happened was that I spent six years dedicated to moving on, to forgetting and letting go, to heal from the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. I spent weeks thinking it was luck, that the stars alligned perfectly for us to end up together again, but I was fucking stupid. I let you convince me to open myself up again, and I got hurt worse than I did the first time.” You spat, vindictive and angry at her despite it being nobody’s fault but your own.

“Woah,” Mel straightened up, defensive and ready to correct you on the matter. “Whatever happened, is not my fault. You can be sad, or angry, or whatever the hell you are, but you cannot blame it on me.” The two of you shared another bout of silence, fuming with stony expressions as you awaited the other's next move. “Are you going to be an adult, or do you want to keep acting like a baby? Completely up to you.”

“You wouldn’t get it, anyway.” You brushed her off, turning to face the CD player as you resumed the music once more. She let out a huff of annoyance, knowing she was bluffing as she sat and listened to the intro of the same song for the millionth time, refusing to leave until you gave her something other than blame.

“What, did he end it? Not what he wanted after all?” In a lapse of judgment and slightly hurt feelings, she retaliated with something that would bruise your already aching heart even further. Deep down, she understood Jake was not the one who put the relationship on pause, and she knew you well enough to recognize the guilt embedded in your tired features. You ended it, and you swore yourself to silence so you could beat yourself up over it.

“Oh, fuck you.” You shot back, slinking further down into your seat as tears stung your eyes. “You really think I’d be this upset if I knew he was okay? You think I’d be this miserable if he was happy?”

There it was; the admission of truth she’d been so patiently waiting for. With that, she had more ground to stand on, this time without a fear of falling.

“Why’d you leave, babe?” Her voice was softer, but still erring on the side of caution and defense.

“What else was I supposed to do?!” You exploded, the gates crashing open as the flood of emotion you’d been guarding so hard finally escaped you. “Leaving is the only way I can make sure he won’t throw away everything he’s worked so hard for! He can’t be what he wants if I'm there—or here, holding him back!”

“Okay,” Mel whispered, reaching out and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Start from the beginning.” She continued, utilizing the briefest moment of time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable to get the full story from you.

You let out an exasperated huff, feeling sick from what you tried to pin on the liquor whilst knowing that it had everything to do with your broken heart. She was your person, just trying her best to help while you did all you could to be miserable and impossible to be around, and you knew that you needn’t be so cruel towards her. Even so, the hurt that only ever seemed to grow larger made you want to be cruel to everyone and everything, convincing you that you could never be happy or feel good again. Projecting it outwards was your best way of showing how you felt on the inside, especially when words seemed impossible to come by.

You felt like you were drowning, whether it be from your tears, your sorrow, or the excessive alcohol consumption, you did not know. What you did know was that everything hurt, every breath, every blink, and every single beat of your heart led you to believe it would be your last, yet you somehow persevered through the process another time, wondering if it would be easier to give in to the pain and let it all go.

You did all you could to protect yourself, keeping your distance for so long because you knew how it ended, yet you fell into the same situation you faced when you were barely eighteen and still naive. You were listening to living proof of your greatest heartbreak—hell, it was the very thing to convince you to take another chance along with the woman sitting across from you. Why did you ever think that it could be different, that it could be so easy, that you deserved anything Jake could give you?

You were so angry, so cynical that it was making your head spin, and you couldn’t get any of it to make sense. In lieu of a better option, you swallowed your pride and prepared yourself to confess to your mistakes. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, it was better than letting the pain get the best of you. Six years ago, you survived it on your own, but it had left you completely depleted of any kind of energy, and you knew you could not do it a second time.

“It was perfect. Everything he did, everything he said, everything he planned. It was like he fit three whole years of dating into one night—or at least the best parts of it, I guess.” Your tone was weaker than before, more defeated as you let the misery seep through the walls of defense you’d built so high. “Got dinner at the same spot we had our first date, ate in the park where he asked me to be his girlfriend, went to the bar we snuck into on one of our last nights together. He played our song on the jukebox, and we went back to his hotel. It was perfect, Mel. So perfect that I think it scared me.”

“Why did it scare you?” She softened up too, less intense now that you were cooperating. She had a wicked need for control, a wicked desire to help, and it made the two of you bump heads sometimes, especially with your abrasive nature.

“When he was far away, it was so easy to pretend that this was all lighthearted, that it was as simple as old high school sweethearts rekindling, just to see where we were at in life. It was easier to swallow back those feelings, to pretend he didn’t mean that much to me anymore. When I saw him, there was no more pretending, and when he did all of his sweet little gestures, it was harder to ignore the fact that he felt the same way I did.” You explained, low and slow as you turned down the volume knob so she could hear you better. With every word you spoke, your eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. “For a while, I lived in this bubble of happiness that nothing could touch. Six years of misery finally ended, and I was okay again, I could breathe again, without the weight of the entire fucking world sitting on my shoulders.”

“What popped your bubble?” Mel asked, growing more comfortable with the conversation as she kicked her legs up on the bed and leaned against the wall behind her. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her words, knowing nothing was funny but still able to find humor in the childlike question.

“Reality.” You responded, your lips dipping into a frown. “Nothing changed, Mel. The reasons we broke up are still just as prevalent, and I was so high on his company that I almost forgot all about it.” She was quiet for a moment, taking in your half-told story as she waited for you to continue, but you didn’t. You felt as though your point was clearly across despite never actually getting into it.

“What popped your bubble, Y/N?” She repeated, her eyes trained to your face as she pressed a little further. You swallowed hard, knowing that what you did was wrong and unwilling to divulge into it. Eventually, her stare became impossible to ignore, and she silently forced your hand on the matter.

“I went through his phone.” You rushed out, your eyes closing as the last syllable left your lips, knowing you were bound to be chastised because of your invasion of privacy.

“Nosy, much?” She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on her lips. You expected much worse—no, you wanted much worse. You wanted someone to hold you accountable, to be as angry at yourself as you were, because what you did was wrong.

“Am I crazy for wanting you to yell at me?” You asked, leaning your head back on the chair in defeat.

“No.” She shook her head, giving the honest answer. “You know it was wrong, but you’re beating yourself up enough for the both of us. I don’t need to make it any worse.”

“I guess I didn’t really snoop, per se.” You felt a small smile cross your face, the only joyous expression you’d adorned since leaving Jake’s hotel room. “I looked through his notifications. I didn’t go through all his texts, or anything.” You defended yourself, less so because you were trying to justify your behavior and more so she knew what really happened.

“Clearly you found something. Does he have a secret family, or whatever?” She was trying her best to sound disinterested, but you knew she was itching for an answer.

Leaving Mel in silence for three days was equal to torture, and you feared she genuinely might go crazy if she was left in the dark for any longer. Mel was overbearing, annoyingly so at times, but it was always with the best intentions. She was your person, even if you tried to fight it, and she was the only one in the whole world that could help. Whether you were open to her advice or not, she always had at least a single good idea to give. If not an idea, then always some food for thought.

“I wish.” You gave a solemn smile. “I think if I hated him, it would be so much easier to get over him.”

“So what is it?”

“Exactly what I thought he would do six years ago; dropped his entire life for me. Moved meetings, rescheduled photoshoots, canceled interviews… completely neglected every responsibility just to drive to Michigan to take me on a date. Then I saw a weird but not super incriminating message from a girl named Amelie.” You pronounced her name with a poor French accent, a bitter taste on your tongue at the thought of her meaning anything at all to Jake.

“Okay.” Mel breathed, giving a curt nod. “Let’s start with the easy part. This Amelie… you said Jake’s not the type, so what do you think it is?”

“Sounds like a beautiful French woman he met on tour that I can’t begin to compare to.” You grumbled, swallowing back a lump in your throat as you confessed to the fear.

But Jake’s not like that.

He had never been the type to entertain two women at once—he had never been one to lie.

Why would he say all of those things, the romantic and emotional tellings of his heart that were all directed at you, if he did not mean them in the truest and most genuine ways?

Why would he wait six years just to break your heart?

“Right,” Mel hummed, not agreeing with your statement but instead trying to gauge whether you were ready for her input or not. Your eyes flickered to her, silently telling her you needed her input, that you needed her to confirm you were crazy for believing so. “Want to hear what I think?”

‘Yes, please. God yes, tell me I’m wrong.’ You thought to yourself, your lips staying shut as your eyes continued to bore into her. Behind the rigid exterior, she could see it—she could feel your desperation for help.

“You’re going to tell me anyway, so why not?” God, what was wrong with you? Why had you always taken the defense, never letting yourself show too much and never giving up on your own stubbornness? Why couldn’t you just be truthful, tell her you needed her and you couldn’t do this on your own?

“I think Amelie was the excuse you were waiting for.” She said, her voice quiet as she treaded carefully. Never faltering in your physical form, you felt everything inside of you spiral into one, horrible pit of despair. “You don’t think Jake is fucking her, and you don’t think he’s in a relationship. You just wanted an excuse to run, to feel justified in leaving.”

You wanted her to tell you that you were wrong, but now you were pissed off because she called you out. More than that, you were pissed off because she was right.

“So what?” You snapped, your gaze falling back to your hands crossed on your lap. “Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t change the rest of it.”

“It does, though.” She corrected, already privy to your innermost struggles. “You’re scared to have that conversation, to tell him how much it hurt the first time. You’re scared to open up, and you’re scared of hurting him. You don’t want to go through the same thing all over again, so you think that by walking away, you’re avoiding it.” She explained. “Amelie was your excuse to run before you had to tell him all of that.”

“Stop that.” You recoiled at her statement, choking on the words she was shoving into your mouth.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Open your eyes.” She implored you to digest the information rather than throw it away.

“Get out of my head!” You argued, angry not because she was missing the mark, but rather because she seemed to pluck the thoughts straight from your head and put them on display for everyone to see. “I hate it when you do that! You trick me into talking just so you can solve it all for me.”

“If I didn’t, who the hell would?” She snapped back, her eyebrows furrowed as she navigated your rebuttal. “You?”

Silence hovered over you again, uncomfortable and thick as it weighed you down. Breathing was hard, the strength of her stare mixed with the heaviness of your sadness combining into one, lethal force.

Of course you wouldn’t fix it; you weren’t a fixer—you were an ignore-er. It was your best trait, the only reason you’d survived the bulk of your life’s misery. You would shove it so far down that you would forget it existed, then carry on as if it never happened at all.

“He didn’t drop everything to go on some pathetic little date with you. He didn’t abandon responsibilities for a meaningless one night stand. He rearranged his schedule to find time to rekindle the relationship with the love of his life—with you. Those are two drastically different things, and you need to get your head out of your ass. He waited six years, Y/N. Six years for you to come back, six years of hoping and praying that you would change your mind. I know you like to be right, that you think you get to call all of the shots because you think you know what’s best for everyone, but you don’t get to decide this. You don’t get to make decisions for him.”

“I’m not making decisions for him—I’m making decisions for me, for what’s best for both of us.” Your argument was weak, and you knew she had you beat, but you never went down without a fight.

“If that was true, you think maybe you would be happy? Or at least okay?” She forced you to think about it again, to reconsider your thoughts and look inwards from a new perspective. She was right; if it were for the best, you wouldn’t be so miserable. Worse still, he wouldn’t be miserable, and you knew he was. The pile of unanswered texts told you he was anything but happy with your choice. “Was he happy when you left? Did he want this, too?”

“No, he didn’t.” You swallowed hard, your head throbbing as you thought back to his pain stricken face. Reliving the moments before you left, both times, was agonizing, yet they seemed to be the only memories you could think of as of recent.

“See?” She leaned forward on the bed, forcing you to look at her. “You know I’m right.”

“I just… fuck, Mel! I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought I had my life figured out, but I never did. I don’t have a job, I don’t have a place to live yet. I can’t subject him to that. I can’t force him to put up with all of this. It’s better if we’re friends, at least while I get everything figured out, but it’s not as easy as you say it is.”

“Do you love him?” She asked, ignoring every point you made. You caught her gaze, your stomach twisting with anxiety as the word echoed through the room. It bounced against every corner of your skull, furthering the migraine and making your palms break out into a sweat.

“Yes.” Finally, you breathed the response, relieved to finally confess it to her. “I love him more than anything else in the world. I always have. I never stopped.”

“Then nothing else matters.” She hummed, the sweet tone easing the ache in your chest. Damn her for always knowing what to say, and damn her for always making you feel better. Most of all, damn her for not being able to mind her own business. “I’ve never seen you so happy. Nobody else has ever made you feel like that, not since I’ve known you, and I’m sure even way before that. If you still feel this way after so long, it means something, Y/N. Don’t throw it away because you’re scared. If he loves you like this too, you can make anything work.”

“I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for him, Mel. Want to see him happy, see him succeed, and I can’t get over the thought of me being the reason he doesn’t.” You confessed, your mouth dry as the truth scratched your throat raw. “That’s why I left the first time. That’s why I left this time. Our lives aren’t that different than they were back then, and the reasons we broke up are still very much alive.”

“You’re not the same, and neither is he. Stop thinking you’re still eighteen and stupid. You’ve grown up, you’ve lived life without him, and you came back. No matter how pressing those reasons were, clearly they weren’t strong enough to keep you away for good.”

“I hate you, you know.” You muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“No, you don’t.” She chuckled. “You hate being wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.” You huffed, still believing your reasoning was correct.

“You sure as hell ain’t right.” Mel laughed, the sound uplifting and refreshing compared to the misery you had been stuck in. “Try, Y/N. Said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t. If, in the end, I turn out to be wrong, we’ll take it as it comes, but you don’t know that’s how it’ll end. You can’t live your life always wishing you ended up with someone you wouldn’t let yourself have.”

Instead of responding, you reached out, pausing the Dylan song amidst a particularly intense bout of harmonica. In an instant, your blinding headache eased and your sick stomach rumbled with hunger. In a moment of clarity, you finally let yourself feel what you’d been holding back for so long; the largest, most pressing issue of the entire ordeal.

“I fucking hate Bob Dylan.” It felt like a million pounds were lifted off your chest as the words passed over your tongue.

“Thank god.” Mel fell backwards onto the mattress, utterly exhausted from pretending to tolerate the song.

Funny how missing Jake blinded you enough to believe you enjoyed it, like it was your last, desperate attempt at feeling close to him. You didn’t need to pretend, and you didn’t need to look at things from the same perspective all of the time. Life wasn’t black and white—it was a million different colors all at once, some so beautiful you couldn’t even begin to comprehend them. You could hate Bob Dylan and still love Jake the same, just the same as you could feel close to him without clinging to the time-worn memory of him. You didn’t have to view everything through a single lense, because sometimes things had to be looked at differently every time you encountered them.

You and Jake, were in fact, something that needed to be taken from every different angle possible. The twists and turns you took to get where you were, the surplus of emotion and the lack of action, the abundance of love despite there being no reason for it could not be justified from one single point or train of thought. You were everything all at once, and after six years and a damned mixtape later, you weren’t destined to end the same way all over again.

There had to be something else for you—it had to be different. After all this time, your commitment to his heart had to be worth it, rather than a painful bump in the road to remind you and make you relive your worst failures.

You were confused, nervous, and frustrated. You wanted it to make sense, for the answer to splay itself in front of you, so obvious you would trip over it and become one with it, but you knew it could never be so easy. You had to force yourself to learn how to take a step back, to stop being so close to a situation that it skewed your perception of what was in front of you. You needed to learn how to see it from Mel’s eyes, and most importantly, Jake’s.

You didn’t know anything, nor how to do it, but the fire under your ass was forcing you to figure it out. You couldn’t live the rest of your life this miserable, and you knew misery was the only thing in store for you if you forced yourself away from Jake.

Facts made sense to you, so you had to look at it logically; you had to learn, to understand, which had always been your favorite thing to do.

It wouldn’t be that hard, right?

You hoped not, because feeling so out of touch with reality was ruining you, and not knowing was killing you. No matter how hard it was, you had to do it, you had to know for certain.

Though, no matter what you did, you were certain one thing would always remain true; you would never, not in a million years, grow to love Bob Dylan, even if the man you loved most was his biggest fan.

And now that the song had finally come to a long overdue halt, Ozz found it within himself to join the two of you in your bedroom, free to keep you company amidst your sadness without being scared off by the high pitched harmonica on loop.

Jake’s POV

“God, you are a fuckin’ mess.” Your hotel door swung open, a voice ringing through the empty air after a brief moment of calm. You closed your eyes, not responding to the noise in hopes he would take the hint and walk away. For the first time ever, not even Josh could make the hurt ease. For the first time ever, you believed he had no advice to give you.

The whole world was burning, but you were so caught up in it that not even a hand to hold could reassure you, and he could not talk you through it.

If anything, you feared talking would only make it burn so much worse.

“Jesus, Jacob. Have you even gotten out of bed yet?” He was by your bedside, peering down at you with a mix of concern and disgust on his face. You were shirtless, the sheets strewn messily across your lower half as you prayed for the mattress to open up and swallow you whole. “Hello?” Josh spoke again, his lips decorated with a frown as he awaited a response.

“Fuck, what do you want?” You groaned, running a hand over your face. You wished he would take the hint, but you felt ridiculous for even thinking he might. In your long lifetime spent with him by your side, you noticed that Josh had never once acknowledged a hint, let alone taken one.

“I don’t know, maybe a ‘hello’? That would be a good start. Or, better yet, an explanation as to why I haven’t heard or seen you since I was here yesterday, when you were in the same position?” He had a hand on his hip, his stare accusatory as he refused to back down.

“Never should have given you that damn spare key.” You grumbled, pushing your messy hair away from your face. Your eyes were burning, puffy from crying, and even if he could clearly see the state you were in, you would never admit it to him.

“Well, you did, so get the fuck over it and tell me what your issue is.” He brushed off your snide comment, sitting next to you in the bed despite his lack of invitation. “Been three days, brother. Something happened—just waiting for you to tell me what.”

“Do you know how to mind your own business, or is that completely lost on you?” You huffed, still tipsy off the whiskey bottle you nursed to completion the night before.

“If you haven’t noticed, you are my business, asshole.” He snipped back, unscathed from your harsh words. He knew you, and all too well; this behaviour was nothing new, and even he knew what it was about, but he wanted to hear it from you instead of assuming. “I’ve only ever seen you like this once before. Trouble in paradise… again?”

“Do you have to try and be so condescending, or does that come naturally?” Your eyes shot open, more energy coursing through you now as you made a move to sit upright. As you did, your head throbbed from the grievous hangover, but you pushed it to the side as you focused on your irritation with Josh.

“Sorry I’m late—lost my fuckin’ key. Went to find Daniel for the spare, and he lost that one, too! Go figure…” Sam joined the crowd, ranting about his days minor inconvenience as he kicked the door shut behind him. He didn’t seem to notice the disarray you found yourself in, nor was he able to read the emotion hanging heavily in the room.

“You really outdid yourself, Josh.” You rolled your eyes, half tempted to roll out of bed and dress yourself just so you could run away from the awkward encounter. “What is this, a brotherly intervention?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s an intervention,” Josh shot you down, tapping his fingers against his khaki-clad leg. “More like a concerned conversation?” He offered an alternative, trying to explain himself before you jumped to conclusions.

“You said intervention in the text.” Sam countered, confused and adding little to Josh’s efforts. You raised a hand, motioning to Sam as you turned your head towards your twin. With a raised eyebrow, you waited for the confirmation you wanted, even if all it would do was drive you further away.

“Sam—ugh, you know what? Fine. Intervention, as the two of you would have it.” Josh threw his arms up, shooting the youngest of the group a glare.

“Right.” You muttered, throwing the sheets off of you and straightening the band of your sweatpants as you climbed out of bed. Your joints ached from days of lazing in the same position and your eyes hurt as you faced the sunlight pooling in through the sheer curtains. “Good thing I don’t need an intervention. In fact, don’t need anything. I’m fine.” You slipped a shirt over your head, stepping towards the door with hopes of escaping the burgeoning intensity of their stares. “‘Preciate the concern, but you’re wasting your energy.”

Josh sent a pointed look at Sam, silently commanding him to step in front of the door before you could leave. This time, he understood the hidden message that Josh was desperately trying to convey, and he took a step backwards to block the exit. You let out a huff of frustration, closing your eyes as you raised your thumb and middle finger to your temples, gently massaging away the migraine the two were causing.

“Sam, please.” You breathed, wasting little effort in speaking as you tried to focus it all on standing upright. You could smell the alcohol on you, seeping through your pores as your liver tried to recover from the previous night's binge. You were a mess, and they were right, but you did not want to talk about it.

“Sorry, brother.” Sam shrugged, leaning back against the wood grain as he shot you a sympathetic smile.

“So what, we’re leaving Daniel out of this? Pretty poor intervention if you ask me, ‘specially if the panel is ran by two idiots.” You felt your fuse reach the end, your temper getting the best of you as the frustration pulsed underneath your skin and behind your eyes.

“Jake, man, I love you.” Sam reasoned, pressing his palms together in front of his torso as the tips of his fingers pointed in your direction. “But could we lose the attitude? Just this once, could you grow up and be an adult about this? About her?”

“Don’t you dare—“ you seethed, cutting yourself off as a prickling sensation filling your entire body from the mere thought of him speaking about her. He had no right to speak her name, no business talking about her or placing his own notions and judgements on the situation. She was your sunshine, your entire world, and right now you were hurt enough to know that if he spoke ill of her, you wouldn’t be able to swallow your words. “Don’t talk about her, Sam. It’s not your place.”

“Okay, he’s right.” Josh nodded, standing and taking a hesitant step towards the two of you, not quite between you but ready to be if the situation warranted intervention. “No sunshine talk, Sammy boy. We’re here to talk about Jake.” Josh sent a careful glance at Sam, speaking with only his eyes. You were a ticking time bomb the two had faced explosion from many times in their life, and this instance happened to be one they were overly familiar with. To them, it seemed the fuse was the shortest when it had anything to do with her.

“Yeah, okay.” Sam cleared his throat, taking the step back and getting a handle on his own frustrations. “Let’s talk about you, Jake.” A twitch of anger contorted your expression at his tone of voice, but you took a deep breath instead of letting it slip into something bigger.

Why did it seem that the two people you loved most were always the ones who made you the angriest version of yourself?

“What about me, Sam?”

“Well, Jake… we’re concerned about your wellbeing, considering you’ve spent the last three days locked in your hotel room. Any reason why, or just making the most out of our vacation?” You squeezed your eyes shut, your teeth clenched tightly together as you listened to his words.

“Okaaayy—good start!” Josh chimed, trying his best to ease the lingering tension. “We are concerned, Jake. Thank you for starting us off, Sam.”

“You two are insufferable, you know.” You gave a tight lipped smile, ignoring the main topic at hand as if it were no big deal.

“‘Cause we love you. That’s all.” Josh shrugged, imploring you to understand where they were coming from. You let out a sigh, knowing they did love you, but it was not even enough to take away the ache in your heart. Nobody could love you enough to take that away.

Well, nobody except for her.

“Fine, you want to know what happened?” You asked, running your fingers through your tangled hair. “Date went great—better than I thought it would. Came back here, spent the night together, she said she loved me, and she fucking left! Again!” At that, your fist slammed down on the high end wooden desk beside you, the legs shaking under the pressure and your bones aching from the contact.

Your two brothers, dumbfounded and worried, stared at you with wide eyes, unbelieving that you found yourself in the same situation all over again. Why, after reaching out in the first place, would she leave you again without hesitation? Why would she let it go so far?

Confused and less than angry, Josh was in search of an answer.

“Why?” He asked, his face softening as he understood the torment you were enduring.

“Same thing as last time. She doesn’t want to stand in the way of anything, doesn’t want to distract me, or whatever the fuck—“ you felt your chest constrict at the thought, the pain coming back in an entirely new fashion as it tore through your entire body. When your brothers stormed in, they pissed you off enough to distract you from it, which means they served some sort of purpose. Now that you were talking, more specifically about her, it was back with a vengeance. “She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand that this doesn’t mean anything if she’s not here with me. Christ, I did the damn thing because of her! She was the whole reason I had the courage to try, a-and she thinks that she’s a nuisance? A hindrance? To a dream that only came true because she loved me?”

Josh stepped forward, a gentle hand extended in your direction. Softly, carefully, cautiously, it landed on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was here and he was listening. Sam approached, less annoyance on his face as he stood beside his eldest brother.

For some reason that you could not explain, the simple contact between you and your twin, the unspoken support and solidarity from both of them made the murky skies clear and allowed for fresh air to fill your lungs. It didn’t feel so heavy, so overwhelming.

“She said she loved you?” Sam asked, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his ass resting against the edge of the wooden desk you’d assaulted only moments before. Even though it just happened, it seemed blurry, hazy as you tried to recall it. Everything was so messed up, so much more confusing now that she closed the door on the two of you.

Although painful, the last few years of your life did not feel as haunting as the last three days had. You tried to blame it on the wound reopening, but in truth, it had little to do with that. Every day, each grueling hour and every painstaking second of the last six years, beneath all of the misery, one thing remained true; hope.

Although time passed, and the longer it dragged on the harder it became to remain optimistic, you never gave up hope that she would come back, that the two of you weren’t finished. Deep down, there was a guttural sense of expectation that led you to believe she would show up, walk through the door with that awe-inspiring smile on her face and love in her heart for you.

Finally, after six fucking years, she did.

Then, she tore it away from you in an instant, without even thinking twice about it, with a measly promise of friendship that both of you knew only added insult to injury.

You were willing to settle, to be friends so you never had to live a life without her in it again, but she couldn’t even hold up that end of the deal. She left, storming out of your hotel room the instant the cab driver parked in front of the entrance, barely looking back over her shoulder as she held her heels in her hands and blinked away tears pooling in her eyes. You heard the door slam, but you were somewhere completely different—a dark abyss in your mind you’d only visited once before, when she drove down the long winding road set out for UPenn, never even glancing at you through the rear view mirror.

Then she disappeared.

Every call went to voicemail, every text went unanswered, the bold letters of the word ‘delivered’ taunting you every time you closed your eyes.

She was gone, and this time, so was all hope.

Why did you let her leave? Why did you let her jump to that conclusion, to run before she got the full story? Why didn’t you run after her?

You were stupid, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway—she made up her mind, and she wouldn’t fucking listen. She never did, and you knew it would be a waste of breath.

“Sure did.” You cleared your throat after you spoke, your words raspy and sorrowful. You hated looking like such a mess in front of the two, but it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. In fact, it was the only thing they’d seen in the recent years that had come to pass. It only changed that fateful day in Europe, when her name graced your screen and the seemingly permanent cloud of misery finally floated away.

They enjoyed it for the few short weeks it lasted—it had been a long time since they saw that version of you. Happy, carefree, comfortable.

You only ever felt that way when she was around. The world only felt right with her by your side.

Now you had no idea where to go or what to do. The world didn’t end, the days still passed by in one never ending, haunting cycle of despair, and the sun was still in the sky, albeit it could never compare to her. You didn’t die when she walked away, although part of you felt like it did. You survived it once, and you could again. You had plenty to look forward to, so much to accomplish still, but it lost its sparkle knowing that you couldn’t share it with her.

So, no. The world did not end, but it definitely became colder, darker, without her light to shine upon you.

“Wonder if she meant it, or if it just felt right in the moment.” You scoffed the words out, sickened at the idea of her saying them but not truly meaning them. When you said it to her, it was the most sacred statement to ever leave your lips, the most genuine and soulful of words, and the only thing in the world that would forever remain true.

“Jacob,” Josh rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where your head was at. “Stop that. Take a second and get out of your own head. Let’s look at it through her eyes, together.” He offered. The muscle in your jaw tightened, your teeth pressed together with enough strength to cause an ache in your head.

From her eyes.

Her beautiful, alluring, calming eyes that always saw the world differently than anyone else could.

Why didn’t you do that before?

Maybe it was too painful for you, or impossible to see a different perspective without someone else to guide you through it. As of late, you had a knack for overthinking, jumping to conclusions that weren’t even genuine possibilities. Josh was always the one to guide you through it, and maybe you needed him more than you realized. He brushed you off, trying to get you to find your own conclusions when it came to her, but it was because you were asking for help in the romance aspect. In truth, you’d never needed much help there, especially when it came to her. Over the past few weeks, you just needed a pat on the back and reassurance that you could do it. Now, you needed help, you needed it to make sense.

“Now I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Y/N, but I have never known her to be a liar. I’ve never known her as anything other than selfless and sincere, and for you Jake, she’s all that and more.” You swallowed hard, his statement hitting you with force and knocking the air from your lungs. He was right, and you were so heartbroken it managed to taint your view of her.

She meant that she loved you, so why did she leave?

None of it made sense, and it all fucking hurt. You wished to have the level headed outlook that Josh had, but it failed you every time her name was brought up. The feelings she evoked within you, the intoxicating effects of her company and even just her memory was enough to drive you mad. You were completely smitten for the woman, and she never even had to try. You knew that nothing could ever compare, nobody could come close, and you were near insanity just imagining a life without her.

“There was this brief moment, the smallest amount of time where everything felt right, like it was supposed to all along. It felt like she felt it too, like we were on the same page, but I walked away for a second, and it all changed.” You let out a shaky breath, your eyes bloodshot and stinging with tears.

“Something must have set her off, right?” Sam offered, hand on his chin as he found himself lost in thought. Yours and Josh’s eyes turned to him, curious about his input.

Josh was a shoulder to cry on, sharing words of wisdom to help you see a different perspective, but Sam? Sam was critical, always finding an answer even when it seemed impossible, always piecing it together when there were seemingly no pieces in sight. Josh was wise, but Sam was a fixer, and you needed this fixed.

“Like what?” You asked, beating yourself up as you heard the same breath of hope in your tone as you had once before.

“Well, I don’t know.” Sam fought back an eye roll, knowing you were hurting but frustrated by how obtuse you could be. “You said you walked away—did you leave her alone in here, or was that metaphorical?”

“No, I literally walked away.” You confirmed. “We were laying in bed, not really talking, but so comfortable that it didn’t matter. I thought for sure it was it, that we were gonna talk it out and work it out, but then I went to the bathroom. When I came back, she was so different. There was that look in her eye, like when she left the first time.”

Sam was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the bed that you’d left in a mess. Thoughtfully, his eyes scanned the scene, as if he could see it in front of him, like it was happening in real time. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, his lips parted as he sucked in a sharp breath. Then, his arm raised and his index finger extended outwards, pulling the two of you in the same direction he was going. He was pointing at your phone on the bed, screen facing upwards and lit up with incoming notifications that were insignificant to you.

To you, though.

To him, it was more than insightful.

“You always leave your phone like that?” Sam asked, his eyes flickering to you as he awaited a response.

“Yeah? Fuck does it matter?” You grumbled, unable to correlate the two. He bit his tongue as he breathed a long sigh of annoyance through his nose, stepping towards the bed and snatching the phone off the mattress.

“It matters because you’re an idiot with no passcode, and anyone can see any notifications as soon as they come.” He snapped, tapping the screen to light it up.

“So?” You couldn’t find the same wavelength he was on, unsure if it was because you were too upset or he was being too vague. Maybe, it was a combination of both. “Nothing incriminating on there. Would have let her look through it if she asked.”

“To you.” Sam clarified. “You said she felt like she was holding you back, that you were still in the same situation as last time. Where do you think that came from?” Sam implored you to think a little further, scrolling down the notification bar you never bothered to clear.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“She saw your notifications.” Sam stressed his point, his eyes reading over all of the worrisome details that likely sent her running. “Outlook: meeting canceled. Outlook: request for rescheduling. Aaron said: sent you the outline for the interview we put on pause. If you get a chance, please look it over in advance.” Sam listed off, flashing the screen towards you so you could see for yourself. “There’s about twenty more just like it.”

“Fuck sakes.” You groaned, placing a palm to your forehead as you let your eyes fall shut. Of course she saw it, and of course she took it personally. Had you realized it sooner, maybe you wouldn’t be where you are now, maybe you could have explained.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” Josh shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearly feeling guilty on behalf of the situation. “Did you tell her it was my idea? That I was the one who canceled everything?”

It was true; coming to Michigan, coming home to her was Josh’s idea. He handled the scheduling conflicts, assuring you that this was much more important than another interview that would pertain to the same fifteen questions you’d been asked since the very beginning.

“F’course not—I didn’t know that’s why she got cold feet.” You mumbled, your eyes flickering towards the floor. “Besides, wouldn’t blame that on you, anyway. Doesn’t seem fair since it was because of me in the first place.”

“That’s not the point.” Josh urged, shaking his head at your stupidity. “If she knew it was me… if she knew how badly we all wanted to see you two together, maybe she’d get it. You have to tell her, Jake. This is all probably super overwhelming for her, to be back with you and to think that you cancelled everything to be with her. No doubt she loves you, but no doubt she’s terrified of messing things up for you. She’s always been afraid of that—she was there since the beginning, when all this was just a dream. She doesn’t see what we see. Make her see it, Jake.”

“Yeah, and maybe you should also tell her Amelie is our photographer, cause this message does seem a little bit flirty taken out of context.” Sam said, clicking on the text and showing you. Confused, you grabbed the phone from his hand and read over the words for what seemed like an eternity, noticing she’d attached four pictures of your last show, ones that you’d been begging her to share. You couldn’t see them from the notification bar, which would have made it seem all the more worrisome to her.

“Great timing, huh?” You grumbled, tossing your phone on the bed as you tried to process all of the new information. “Didn’t budge for a week, but finally sent them at the perfect time.” The sarcasm was dripping from your tone, your stomach upset as you understood how much those series of events would have bothered her.

You were so cruel, believing she did so because she didn’t care, because she wanted an excuse. It wasn’t true, and she did what she did because she cared so much, more than anyone ever had, and more than anyone else ever would. She took the burden of heartbreak because she cared more about your happiness than her sadness. If the roles were reversed, you would have felt the same way, maybe even worse. She loved you so wholly and completely that she would rather let you go than stand in your way.

Josh was right, she was a selfless, kindhearted person who would do and be anything for you, even if the best for you meant she had to be nothing. You were an idiot, and you accused her of lacking love when in reality, she was suffocating on the abundance of love she held for you.

You had to fix it. You had to make it right, to show her that no matter where you were or what you were doing, she was the very thing that made it possible to do it. You needed to tell her that she was all you ever wanted, that the life you lived was good, but only fantastic when she was there to stand by your side.

You needed to fight, to chase after her instead of letting her walk away. She meant too much to you to let her go. You couldn’t waste another six years hoping the situation would fix itself. This time, you were older, wiser, albeit still stupid, but you knew that she was worth it.

“I have to make it right.” You announced, looking between the two.

“You have to tell her the truth. Don’t let her go, Jake.” Sam agreed.

“After all this time, she’s still yours. Don’t take it for granted.” Josh added.

“Okay.” You breathed, giving one curt nod. “I have an idea, but I can’t do it by myself.”

“Whatever you need, brother.” Josh assured you, knowing just as well as you did that she was the one. They couldn’t bear to see you lose her for good. Sam nodded in agreement, a silent show of solidarity without a second thought.

A small smile graced your lips, and a breath of hope filled your lungs. It wasn’t over, and you would make sure of it. When it came to her, you would never let it be over. You would work until your last dying breath, committed to her and her alone. She was everything, the whole world and more. She was your sunshine, lighting up the darkest days and making the brightest ones better.

Six years ago, you gave her eight songs to show her how much you would miss her, how sad you were about letting her go.

This time, maybe all she needed was eight songs to tell her exactly why you needed her to stay.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake

[golden-rolling-hills]

JOHNNY HCS PLS I BEGGGGGGG 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i’m slowly making my way through my inbox, here’s some johnny hcs though!

- he always has the sassiest/snarkiest comebacks and comments to everything but he just doesn’t say them out loud so no one has any idea.

- he will say them to pony though like hours after it’s even relevant and they’re sitting alone in the lot or something

- he was a super colicky baby

- he can play the harmonica freakishly well and no one can figure out where he learned it from

- he’s a cat person 100% he’s not a big fan of dogs, they’re too energetic

- i said this in a previous post but he’s blind in one eye

- most of his clothes are hand me downs from two-bit, soda, and darry

[redrobin-detective]

Simon Petrikov headcanons

Only child, had loving parents who supported him but often left him alone for long stretches of time. An eager, empathetic child, he craved relationships with others and struggled to find them. The people he cares for, he loves completely and with everything he has.

He and Betty were such an obnoxious couple. They were each other's first everythings and became attached at the hip from the moment they started dating. They did everything together, mostly because it was Betty helping Simon with all his books and expeditions and research. Dated 2 years before proposing and things fell apart not long after. Simon had his doctorate while Betty was finishing hers, they planned the wedding for after she got her degree.

Was in his mid-late 30s when he first put on the crown. He'd just gotten his PhD and proposed to Betty and was at the happiest point in his life. Secretly believed but never really acknowledged that the reason Betty disappeared is that he accidentally killed during during his first bout of crown induced madness. That lingering grief and guilt was a major driver of his later princess kidnapping mania, seeking out the princess his heart knew was gone. He calmed down again once he realized Betty was alive.

After Betty disappeared, he became a hermit to avoid hurting others and the War happened a few years later. He was affected enough by the crown's magic to not suffer from the radiation sickness. He met Marcy a few years after.

Always wanted children, even when he'd been a child. Was somewhat resigned to it never happening until he met Betty. One of their first big discussions as a couple was about their mutual desire for kids. They both wanted a big family.

Has a somewhat addictive personality which is one reason why he could never truly abandon the crown. Goes through phases with food where he'll only eat a certain thing for months on end. Smoked like crazy, he was trying to quit because it bothered Betty but never quite managed. Even a thousand years later, he still wakes up sometimes craving a cigarette.

Is actually quite different physically from modern humans. Future humans only have 4 fingers and toes, they also have a slightly different internal organ structure that evolved post-war. Simon and humans give each other slight uncanny valley vibes, facial/skeletal shape is mostly the same but a bit tweaked that they can tell something is off slightly. Oooans live longer, are more durable and have more flexible bones. Simon nearly faints when he sees Finn bend his arms in ways that's impossible for him.

Simon retains some effects of the crown. His dark brown eyes became a piercing light blue after that first time and never went back. While he loses all magical ability, he has a higher sensitivity towards it. Has a crazy high physical cold tolerance and can survive temperatures that would harm a normal person. However, his mental tolerance for cold is low. Hates being cold and bundles on layers whenever it's chilly.

He didn't keep memories well while as Ice King. When he came back to himself he found he remembered cold hard facts he learned as IK (names, events, general history of Ooo) but personal memories were only 'dreamlike impression'. People will tell him things he did and Simon will not remember, he finds it very upsetting. Every now and again, a memory will bubble up and no matter what he's doing he'll need to hide away out of embarrassment.

A musical prodigy, someone who can pick up and learn instruments quite easily. Could have done music professionally if he'd been so inclined but preferred it as a hobby. In order of proficiency it was piano -> keyboard -> harmonica -> acoustic guitar -> fiddle -> violin -> ukulele*. *Can only play his and Betty's song which he sang when he proposed.

Drums was never an instrument he learned pre-crown, it was never something he wanted. He learned as Ice King, a way to express his innate musical talent in a medium that fit the cursed king. Plays intermittently after being freed but it takes him years before he becomes comfortable with them.

Taught Marcy the basics of guitar while they traveled together. She'd already expressed an interest in music and he was happy to teach her and sing to her as a way to keep up her spirits. Often joked guitars weren't his specialty but they were easier to find/more portable in an apocalyptic world.

Every couple of months, he and Marcy will pick a venue and play together. Its never announced, they just show up someplace and start playing. The audience goes wild but they're just having having a little family jam session.

Goes grey early. He has a massive panic attack when he first noticed streaks of white in his hair. He thought he was turning back into Ice King before he realized he was just getting old. Its a concept just as foreign and frightening.

It took a long time for Simon to admit what Marcy was to him, it felt presumptuous to think of her as his own when he could barely provide for her and was slowly losing his sanity. Meanwhile Marcy saw him as a parental figure right away. They've since talked about it and acknowledge it but just call each other Marcy and Simon for simplicity's sake. Sometimes, when she's feeling fond she'll call him 'old man' and it makes him feel like a king.

Marcy has a serious fear of Hunson taking offense to Simon filling in the father role. Its one reason she doesn't call him dad even if she feels it. Hunson is cruel and apathetic and possessive. She won't risk Simon falling victim to his petty whims.

Worked hard to make up his past behavior to the people he'd hurt. Many were forgiving but some weren't and he had to learn that some people would never accept his efforts. Took a long time for he and PB to get on good terms. Bubblegum holds grudges and Simon was so ashamed over his actions he would've avoided her if not for Marcy. For her sake, the two of them painfully, awkwardly made peace with each other. They're now quite friendly and even hang out occasionally without Marcy.

Is super uncomfortable around Gunter/Ice Thing for a while. Takes him awhile to work up the nerve to go back to the Ice Kingdom. Ice Thing thinks of Simon as his father and refers to him as such which initially flusters Simon but he gets used to it. They're friendly, but not really close. Ice Thing houses the majority of Simon's book/artifact collection until he donates it to museums. Simon visits every now and again for research purposes and to see the penguins who mutually miss him. The more Simon feels separated from Ice King the easier time he has with Ice Thing.

Everyone but Finn realizes that Simon has basically adopted him. Finn continues to live with Jake until he dies then alternates between crashing at Marcy's, PB's and Simon's place and disappearing on quests for months at a time. Simon worries and dotes on the young human: making meals, keeping his place clean and generally being supportive until Finn is a bit more stable. Finn's obliviousness to Simon's paternal feelings makes him back off a bit more into friend territory but he still worries.

Simon not only moves out of his museum apartment but also out of the floating human city. It isolated him up there, being so unrelatable to the other humans. Moves back down to Ooo and Bubblegum gets him set up with a big house with plenty of extra bedrooms for his friends kids to stay in.

After the events of F&C, he throws himself into his third chance with a gusto. Still has bouts of depression and anxiety the rest of his life but its more controlled. He helps formalize education across the board and creates the first higher education institute in Ooo. Teaches not only about pre-war history but becomes the historian on the history of Ooo. Keeps records, writes books and does interviews that help capture the world which are referenced far into the future. While he will always be associated with Ice King, Simon makes a name for himself as well.

[ashxketchum]

They uploaded the video where Agumon, Gabumon, Veemon and Wormon will call out names of fans and look! We get a glimpse at Taichi, Yamato, Daisuke and Ken's rooms!

You know what this means? It's time for a certified Ayushi breakdown 🫡

There is so much blue in Taichi's room hahaha (taiyama win!), the soccer magazines + jump manga reference is so on point. And he has so many bags! Taichi why do you need so many backpacks, one for every outfit? 😆 THE DUMBBELLS THO my boy is working out to maintain that body we got a glimpse of in Tri 😌 The whistle hanging on the wall is also a nice touch, is it Hikari's whistle from when they were kids? 🥹 Or even if it's not, I'd like to imagine a scenario where Taichi helps Hikari with her kindergarten schoolwork occasionally by coaching football to the little kids in his free time! Can you imagine him running around with little kids who are about as tall as the football itself 🤣 I tried to zoom in to figure out what the magazine on his desk is for, and I could make out the word Nakano, so maybe it's just something he picked up on his way home (maybe he lives around Nakano?) since it looks slightly crumpled too, like it was shoved in his bag in a rush. His phone (and is that a wallet?) feel pretty standard. He is the only one who doesn't have a lamp on his desk + has some kind of reminder post-its stuck to his desktop, maybe he's not so good with passwords? Koushiro probably always lectures him about this every time he visits.

Now let's talk about Yamato, FIRST OF ALL I WILL SCREAM ABOUT THE KOD TSHIRT! HE STILL WEARS IT! I'M CRYING RIGHT NOW!!! And then his guitars because I swear I did a one hour deep dive trying to figure out the brand and model and I think they're both Fender (an expensive brand I would say) which once again makes me wonder how much money does the TakaIshi family has for their sons to have expensive, bikes, cars and guitars. TO TOP IT OFF Yamato is definitely an Apple bitch too like look at that monitor and keyboard, that's Mac and his phone is very clearly Iphone. Now his room follows a very warm, muted tones of black and brown. We can spot some music related magazines on his shelf and a big, plain tote bag on the ground (see Taichi one big bag should be enough 🤣) which looks like something he uses for grocery shopping. Yamato is the only one who doesn't have a wheelie computer chair, but rather a wooden one. Now whether he did this to follow the aesthetic of the room (highly likely) or because he doesn't actually spend a lot of time in this space is something we can all think about. He has a framed portrait or photo(?) up on the wall and I did consider him more of a framed art guy over a poster guy always so this is good to see too. Also nice to note that on his desk, he has THE HARMONICA 😭 And the same Jump issue that Taichi has on his shelf! His room is honestly a lot like how I imagined it to be in terms of the furniture and colours so I'm very happy with this sneak peek!

I am not qualified to comment on Daisuke and Ken's rooms, so will leave that to 02 fans!

[noellawrites]

Baby Carriage - Yandere!Jonah Simms x reader (part 2)

part one linked here

summary: after being blackmailed into marriage with Jonah, you surprisingly enjoy being with him. but what happens when a baby is added to the mix?

warnings: mentions of forced marriage, birth control tampering, creepy!Jonah, sex, pregnancy

After the honeymoon, you moved in with Jonah immediately. It wasn't necessarily by choice, but you'd returned from the trip to find your apartment empty and everything you owned had already been moved into Jonah's apartment.

The longer you spent with your new husband, the more you fell in love with him. Part of you figured this had been his plan all along, but you really did get along well. Even working together hadn't hindered your marriage. Well, except for the fiery jealousy of Cloud 9's single women.

Speaking of work, Jonah doted on you all day and treated you like a queen. He made your lunches, gave you your vitamins and even tracked your cycle for you.

So, it wasn't a shock to Jonah when you were late only two months after you had gotten married. It was Jonah's plan all along: even though he acted like a feminist, he secretly wanted you all to himself.

Jonah was tired of Cloud 9 customers hitting on you and giving you their numbers. Didn't they know you were only being nice because it was your job? But not for long, because being a mother would be your only job from now on.

--

It had, by all means, been a very normal day at Cloud 9 so far. Marcus did something dumb, Amy was pissed, Glenn was trying to help, and everyone else was just getting through the day. But alarm bells were ringing in your mind.

Today was supposed to be the first day of your period. Of course, you had been late before, but you hadn't actually had a reason to be concerned. But you and Jonah had sex ALL the time, almost daily. And sure, Jonah gave you your birth control every morning, but it wasn't 100% effective.

"Cheyenne," you say under your breath as you approach the jewelry counter, "how did you know you were pregnant?"

She looks over at you, wide-eyed, "oh, uh, I think I just noticed I was getting fatter. Why? Do you think you might be--"

"Shh! Not so loud. I-I think I'm late, but I'm scared to take a test," you confess, biting your cheek.

"Ohmigod yay! Harmonica can be besties with your daughter!" Cheyenne says excitedly, clapping her hands as a big smile spreads across her face.

"I don't even know if I'm pregnant, let alone if it's a girl!" you say as Cheyenne exits the jewelry counter and whisks you away towards the family planning aisle.

--

It feels like an eternity, but it only takes three minutes for the two pink lines to show up on your SuperCloud-branded pregnancy test.

You and Cheyenne, both huddled in the handicap stall, staring down at the positive test. It was true, you and Jonah had created new life.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Cheyenne, what do I do? Jonah and I have only known each other for four months, a-and we work at Cloud 9!" you sniffle, panic rising up in your throat.

"(y/n)? Are you in there?" Your eyes grew wide when you recognized the voice belonging to your husband. He was yelling from outside the bathroom.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay!" you yell in response.

"Was it positive?"

"Jonah... how'd you know I was taking a test?"

"I asked Tate. And you're late. Sorry, I didn't mean for that to rhyme," he laughed nervously.

You slowly exit the bathroom with the test in your hand, Cheyenne following closely behind.

You feel sick as you hand the test to your husband and watch his face light up with happiness.

"Babe, this is amazing! We're having a baby!" Jonah exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'll give you a moment alone," Cheyenne says awkwardly before shuffling away to find Mateo and probably fill him in on the pregnancy.

You tried to smile in an effort to hold your tears back. Even though you loved Jonah, he still forced you to marry him and take his last name, and he'd likely sabotaged your birth control in order to get you pregnant. You weren't ready for this to all happen so quickly.

Jonah pulled away, examining your face. "Everything okay, Mrs. Simms?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm just a little scared. It feels like everything is happening so quickly," you confess. Jonah strokes your arm comfortingly as you lean into his touch.

"Don't worry, babe. I've been planning this since we met. I'm going to take night classes and finish my degree so I can get a real job. And you can stay home with our little one," he explains, gently putting his hand on your stomach.

You loved Jonah, but you were terrified of what he was capable of.

[ghostinthez0nes]

Kobra Kid Headcanons lets go

Likes tight clothing, makes him feel more secure and safe.

Will teach you karate if you bribe him enough, but it takes a’lot of bribing.

Doesn’t really care about gender or pronouns, but likes xe/xer pronouns because they sound cool.

Touch his hair and he’ll bite your hand.

Motorbike stunts for days.

A short fuse but a master at keeping cool. When he’s really pissed tho someone will get their teeth knocked in.

Doesn’t admit it but relies heavily on Party to keep his head above water.

Prefers driving around at night when it’s quieter and less bright.

Loves sweet and spicy food, bonus points if its both.

Becomes aggressive when overwhelmed and scared.

Loves sunrises. He will sometimes stay up all night just so he can watch the sun come up early in the morning.

Party helped make his helmet, they’re to thank for the paint job.

Keeps a little dino keychain in his pocket at all times.

Has horrible tan lines from wearing his sunglasses too long in the sun.

Flappy hands and stompy feet when excited.

Light sensitive, thus the sunglasses. Wears them indoors and at night too.

The most anxious around injuries, he doesn’t like blood.

Snorts when he laughs.

Loves the desert and the freedom that comes with it.

Has a very keen sense of smell and is very good at figuring out where the smell is coming from.

Knows sign language and uses it instead of speaking to communicate sometimes.

Absolutely HATES powerpup but forces himself to eat it if theres nothing else even if it makes him sick. Party tries really hard to look for other kinds of food when going on supply runs so his poor brother can eat.

Chews on the straps of his leather gloves when anxious.

Really likes bubbles.

Sleeps in his jacket for security.

A troublemaker with Ghoul and always finds ways to pull off stupid shit with him.

Likes Michael Bay movies.

Hardly ever cries, but when he does it’s cathartic. The others need to intervene because he chokes up while he’s heaving.

Prefers comics over books, he likes looking at pictures better.

Only the girl is allowed to doodle on his bike, if the others try he will deck them.

Most terrified of being captured by Bli, he doesn’t ever want to go back to the city.

Can play the harmonica really well.

Loves old and broken technology because he thinks its cool and likes to fix things.

Teaches the others to read, especially Jet and Ghoul. Ghoul can read but has dyslexia, Jet never really learned how to read properly at all.

Will try to pet any reptile he sees, even if its venomous or poisonous.

Can sleep sitting up, the others sometimes need to do a double take and check if he’s awake or not since he always wears sunglasses.

Obsessed with VHS tapes and has a collection of them with god knows what on them.

Freezes when panicking, will stay in shock at something until someone needs to move him.

Likes close range combat so he can show off his karate skills.

Instead of cussing in an argument he’ll just look at someone like they’re stupid.

Makes action figures for the girl out of spare parts, responsible for all of her robot toys.

Takes AGES to do his hair, hence why he wants no one to touch it.

If he’s not in his room at night, he’s on the diner roof watching the stars.

When the girl was a toddler, she would call him Kobi instead of Kobra.

Has a wide vocabulary due to being educated in the city, but refuses to use it.

Lost a tooth after an accident on the crash track, he gave it to Ghoul who turned it into a pendant.

[francixoxoxo]

Modern!Billy would 1000% listen to Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen, you can’t change my mind

He’s absolutely putting on his Petty record, skipping to Mary Jane’s Last Dance and singing it in the most dramatic voice he can muster, and you’re laughing at him, which was exactly his goal. If you’re doing something, I’m picturing you’re standing at the kitchen counter, bookmarking pages in a new cookbook, and you hear that damn record come on. You look over your shoulder at the first guitar riffs and you see Billy dancing up to you, grinning like anything, “She grew up in an Indiana town, had a good lookin’ mom, who ne’er was around!”

You can’t help laughing at him, but he doesn’t mind. He steals you away from the counter, it’s not a slow dance, certainly not to the harmonicas and guitars of Tom Petty, but it as dance all the same. “Oh my my, oh hell yes! Honey, put on that party dress!” Who are you to deny Billy a dance? You let his hands come to your waist, even singing along with him, to his absolute delight. He’d absolutely whistle that iconic harmonica line of Mary Jane’s Last Dance while he works, while he’s walking around, all the time, same thing with humming under his breath, “Into the great wide open, under them skies of blue..”

In his truck, he’d totally have a collection of Springsteen CD’s. The truck’s pretty old and pretty crappy, so there’s no aux, just a cd slot. “I don’t mind, baby. S’ hell of a lot cooler than a phone.” Billy would tell you, grinning boyishly as he pushes the manual shift into drive (btw this guy totally swears by driving stick shift and probably is appalled that you don’t know how bc literally who does). His favorite is absolutely Dancing in the Dark, and the moment the song comes on that man is belting. The more embarrassed you are and the harder you laugh at him the more he leans over the console, singing the lyrics with even more pride. “Ya can’t start a fire without a spark! This guns for hire, even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark!” His hand on your knee you absolutely shake your leg a little, ‘cause he knows you think he’s corny. He knows that you think it’s funny that he listens to the music your dad listens to.

But he also knows that you think he’s never been hotter, practically shouting more than singing, his brow and neck sweating a bit from the hot New Mexico summer in a pickup truck without any AC besides the wind blowing past. With his left arm hanging over the rolled down window, driving with one hand on the bottom of the wheel, the defined muscles in his arms shown off by his navy, sleeveless shirt. Those eyes peering at you now and then, those stupidly plush lips pulling over his teeth to laugh at you, tell you that you’re staring. So what if you are? Billy’s yours to stare at— and laugh at.

Might have written this bc I whipped out the Tom Petty record last night when I lost my phone

[the-hottest-band-tournament]

Round Four of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament

Queen

Defeated opponents: Green Day, Earth, Wind & Fire, The Psychedelic Furs

Formed in: 1970

Genres: rock, glam-rock, hard rock, pop-rock, pop, disco

Lineup: Freddie Mercury- vocals 

Brian May- guitar 

John Deacon- bass 

Roger Taylor- drums 

Albums from the 80s: 

The Game (1980)

Hot Space (1982)

Flash Gordon (1982, movie soundtrack)

The Works (1984)

A Kind Of Magic (1986)

The Miracle (1989)

Propaganda: “HAVE YOU SEEEEN THEMMMM???? these men never lost their looks as they aged. smoking hot 20 somethings to smoking hot 40 somethings. in their own words, "we was glam" and "we were all stunning". all four had impeccable style choices 99% of the time, from leather jackets and wraps to monochrome to undone blazers and ties to brightly coloured /everything/. Deacon changed his hair style every few years and even in just tshirts and booty shorts, never missed. Roger had a sleazy mullet and sunglasses for what felt like forever, hot Persian dad, did not miss. Brian forgot how to fully button shirts. bell bottoms. same hair for 50 years. no misses. even after Freddie got sick and started wearing makeup and had to grow a beard to cover up, MAN NEVER FUCKIN MISSED. he was beautiful to the day he died. and thats not even touching on the leather daddy look from the early 80s.king shit. we love wrinkles and laugh lines in this gd house. if they don't sweep I’m blowing this whole website up we was glam”

“a few years back i was obsessed with these guys and i would find it hard to not have a crush on all of them. in the 80s especially brian was GORGEOUS.. BEAUTIFUL”

R.E.M 

Defeated opponents: The Stone Roses, Chicago

 Formation: 1980

Genres: Alternative rock folk rock college rock jangle pop post-punk

Lineup: Bill Berry – drums, percussion, backing vocals, occasional bass and keyboards 

Peter Buck – lead guitar, mandolin, banjo, occasional bass, keyboards and drums 

Mike Mills – bass, keyboards, backing vocals, occasional lead vocals and guitar

Michael Stipe – lead vocals, occasional harmonica, percussion and guitar

Albums from the 80s: 

Murmur (1983)

Reckoning (1984)

Fables of the Reconstruction (1985)

Lifes Rich Pageant (1986)

Document (1987)

Green (1988)

Propaganda: These Georgian boys invented "college rock" with their sound that was at once a throwback and a move forward. 

Visual propaganda for Queen: