#he could choose to keep living a life where he kills without responsibility

[thelittlestspider]

i think the reason matt/peter wouldn't work long term is because they're too afraid of their need for violence.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Secluded Paradise

Pairing: Dark Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is tired of your technology addiction so he takes matters into his own hands.

WARNINGS: Imprisonment; Toxic Relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“And I was thinking we should go to the country house for the weekend, it could be like a getaway from the city. No phones or wi-fi, just us. What do you think, honey?” Steve asks, his blue eyes squinting at your figure, who continues completely focused on the phone. 

“Honey?” he repeats himself, his voice only demonstrating a small hint of anger as he reaches to tap on your arm a bit, successfully grabbing your attention.

You look at him, confusion blinding your eyes which only makes Steve even more annoyed at you. 

“Yeah, sure, sure. Whatever you want, babe.” you hurriedly agree, returning your attention back to your phone. Steve clenches his hand and takes a deep breath as he tries to keep his anger away. 

It’s hard to live in this new modern century where everyone has technology addiction. He usually tries his best to be patient when you’re glued to the device or when you ask him to take millions of pictures of yourself, just so that in the end you only choose one to post on your social media.

It’s complicated though, he’s a patient man but even Captain America has his own limits to the point that it’s reaching its end. 

Steve isn’t blind to the way that you seem to rejoice with all the attention you receive online. With Natasha’s extensive help, he actually managed to learn some rudimentar basics of navigating the online world, going as far as to creating a secret account.

All of this just to keep track of you - a man needs to keep tabs on his woman, of course. 

Yet something that worsened his mood was noticing how many pictures you had displayed there, with an abundance of male comments where most of them used very vulgar language. 

Something you clearly had no problem with. If anything, it seemed like you thoroughly enjoyed the attention, rewarding those unknown men with even more pictures of you wearing scandalous outfits. 

Plus, having a decent conversation with you was getting harder and harder as your attention was uniquely on your phone at all times. You had no time to even make small conversation, much less discuss future life plans.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he signals the waiter to bring the check and quickly pays, helping you to stand up and dress your jacket. 

“I’m gonna start planning for our vacations. You’re going to love them.” he says, grabbing your free hand. You don’t offer any response, the fingers of your free hand rapidly tapping on the screen. Steve swallows his annoyance once again as he makes up his mind. 

He’s not going to tolerate it much more. 

“Steve! Oh my god!” 

Steve is leaning against the kitchen counter, merely watching as you struggle with your phone. You’re trying to go up on the couch of the living room, elevating your phone in hopes of catching a wi-fi signal. 

Steve’s lips curl at that sight, it’s nice to see you so desperate, so needy for something. 

“Darling, I told you we don’t have any internet here.” he patiently reminds you as if you’re a child. Your hand drops as you gasp in horror, looking back at him.

“But…but…I need it, Steve.” you whine, a pout starting to form on your glossy lips. It makes Steve’s dick feel alive, he likes it when you beg. But right now, he has to be stern about this. 

“No, you don’t. A few days without that annoying device won’t kill you.” he places his hands at his hips, his tone getting sterner. 

“But-”

“Enough, goddamnit!” 

You immediately shut up, frightened by Steve’s shout. The hand holding your phone slowly falls down and you look at Steve, shocked. His face turns almost remorseful for a moment, but then that expression disappears and he returns to his normal self again.

“Now, let me show you around. You’re going to love the house, the master bedroom is really huge and has one of those big television screens, the garden is just…” Steve rambles like he didn’t just snap at you. 

He offers you a wide smile, motioning towards the stairs with one of his huge hands, but you remain glued to your spot, hand strongly clutching the phone as if your life depends on it. Ironic since it doesn’t even have a signal.

“I think I wanna go home.” you declare with a shaken voice. Steve’s smile disappears and an impatient expression takes over. 

“Nonsense. We just got here, honey.” Steve rubs his face, as if he’s tired. His voice starting to have an annoyed accent, making his irritation more obvious. You don’t like that. 

“I want to go back.” you repeat, stepping out of the couch and starting to head towards the main door. 

As soon as your hand reaches for the handle, a muscled arm bars the door. You turn your head towards Steve, his brows united in an irritated frown. 

“Why do you always have to be a fucking brat?” he raises his voice and you immediately take a step back. He’s never spoken to you in this way. 

“Oh now is when you decide to get scared? Not when those creeps comment on your slutty pictures online. Maybe that’s what you like, huh?” He darkly chuckles, seeing you scared. 

You keep your silence, your heart throbbing in your ears. The door is so close but you know that with Steve around, you’ll never actually get to leave. This new Steve is starting to scare you. 

But you can’t go against him, you have no idea what he’ll do yet one thing is clear: he’s much stronger than you are. 

As the silence uncomfortably grows, Steve lets out a sigh and removes his hand. You don’t dare to move, knowing that he won’t let you leave. 

“Listen, I just want to spend some quality time with my girlfriend. Is that too much to ask?” he says, his voice sounding honest and apologetic. Like he’s the old Steve. 

You look at him and that's when it strikes you. You can’t leave without the car.

Steve is the one that drove all the way here and you did notice the house being located in a secluded area, no stores and no other houses around.

It took almost one hour by car to get here, no way you’d be able to find your way back without the car. Whose keys are with Steve. 

You stiffly nod and Steve immediately takes your hand with a strong hold. 

“Let’s go on with the house tour then. You’re going to love it, honey.” 

Silence and darkness rules over the entire house. No city sounds that usually disturb the night. You don’t like it, it’s too peaceful for your taste.

It’s boringly calm, but Steve probably loves it hence he fell asleep so fast. You can’t hear a single sound coming from his room, meaning that he’s most certainly asleep. 

It’s time, then. 

You rise from the bed and silently tiptoe towards the living room, not even bothering to grab your bag or to dress in warmer clothes. You’re eager to get out of this horrible place already and once you reach the city, you’ll just break-up with Steve and move on with your life. 

You saw Steve placing both the house and the car keys inside a bowl on the counter, next to the door after dinner. It’s perfect, when you think about it.

You can lock Steve inside and take the car. Not that a weak lock would do much against Steve’s inhuman strength but the idea grows into you, it doesn’t hurt to lock a door.

Finally reaching the living room, you almost run towards the counter. You immediately dip your hand into the bowl, only for your fingers to grab air. Your eyes widen in horror and when you look, it's empty. 

A cough is heard from behind you and your heart drops to your feet. 

No, no. 

This cannot be happening, not when you were so close to freedom. You squint your eyes tight for a moment, trying to muster up some courage before you finally turn around.

Steve is leaning against a wall, a slightly annoyed but mostly arrogant expression on his face.

A growing smirk curls his lips, amused to see you try to get away when in reality you'd never be able to do so. You were too busy with your phone to realize that the house had an eletric fence, one that required a code to open. Silly you.

“Looks like you’re stuck here with me, babe” 

[rrenzwrld]

isn’t she lovely?

eren x pregnant! black reader

— the birth of his daughter becomes one of the best days he’s ever lived.

another bs from my notes but i like this concept so i will be adding to it whenever i can

— what to expect, when you’re expecting

Eren spent majority of his life worrying about nobody but himself and what was important to him. For a while, the life of no one else had no meaning if it wasn’t the life himself or the lives of the only two friends he had. That was until he met you. You came into his life all pretty and positive. Not a negative thing about you and he loved that. And that alone made him love everything else about you. Regardless of how you were feeling or what either of you were feeling, you always made sure that no one was upset and you made it your responsibility to have everyone else taken care of before yourself. It was as if you were this magical being sent down to make his life significantly better and he planned to keep you in it.

You were only in his life for two short years until you became pregnant. While Eren freaked out and thought this would ruin both of your lives, you were as happy as you could be. Even though the both of you were fresh into your 20s, your dream of being a mother was strong. From the little age of five playing with small baby dolls, to volunteering to babysit your neighborhood’s children, you were finally at a place in life where you were able to have a child of your own. A real child. A real child with your blood running through their veins and you knew without a doubt that part of them would belong to you.

Eren on the other hand had to figure out a way to tell his parents without disappointing them along with disappointing himself even more than he had.

“My dad is gonna fucking kill me.” He ran his hands through his hair before dragging them back down his face. You rested your head on his shoulder and held onto his arm.

“No he’s not. You’re overreacting.”

“This is a whole baby we’re talking about, Y/n… there’s no way we’ll be able to do this.” His discouragement offended you.

“Well, you can leave,” You started. He turned to you like you said something off the wall.

“What? No, no I’m not leaving so… that’s out of the question.” It made you smile a bit that he wasn’t thinking about leaving you to take care of the baby by yourself. But you had enough spirit to know that you were perfectly capable with or without him.

“We’re not getting rid of her either.” You placed a hand on your belly even though nothing had yet formed to know that you did.

“Her?”

“Yeah, her.” You looked at him and smiled. You kind of hoped your baby would have his eyes… You loved his eyes.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” He raised a brow at you as he took your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. He was still nervous about having a child at such a young age but if he had anyone else to pick in the world to start his family with, he’d choose you. He’d choose you a thousand times over.

You shrugged. “I just know.”

Turns out, his parents weren’t nearly as angry as he expected them to be. They might have been a little shocked that their youngest son were growing up a lot faster than they expected, but they knew you’d be a wonderful mother and wasn’t at all disappointed that if he were to have a child with anyone, it was with you.

“So you’re not mad?”

“No, your mother and I aren’t mad,” Grisha started.

“Just make sure you take good care of Y/n.” The fact that his mother felt so positively towards you made you happy. There was nothing like a mother’s love, from anywhere, to anywhere, through and through.

“Thank you for your support, Mr. Yaeger.”

After dinner that night, Eren was helping his father with the dishes when more discussion about the pregnancy came up.

“You sure you ready?” Eren didn’t know what to tell his dad now that they were alone to talk about it. “Be honest.”

“No.” Eren put away the dry dishes.

“And why?”

“I’m just, I just don’t think I’m ready to be a dad. And I hate that because I know Y/n will be an amazing mom and I’ll just… suck.”

“You think I knew how to be a dad the day you were born? Hell no. I was terrible. Didn’t even know how to change your diapers until you were six months.” Eren laughed a bit, making him feel better. Making him feel like he wasn’t alone and his fears were validated.

“That does sound pretty bad…”

Grisha scoffed. “And it gets worse… but listen, you’ll be fine.” Grisha dried his hands after the last of the plates to give his full attention to his son. “You’ll learn everything you need to along the way and if you need help, just call us. Alright?”

Eren nodded in understanding. He knew raising a child would be a difficult task but maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Maybe they’d be better off than expected.

[nerdyenby]

Seasons one and early two are Lloyd being a kid and getting to be a brat sometimes.

Late season two through season seven are Lloyd being forced to grow up too quick and not allowing himself to process literally anything, devoting his entire being to becoming who destiny told him to be.

Seasons eight through ten are Lloyd having literally having all of his trauma shoved back in his face but worse. Not to mention his dead dad isn’t dead anymore, isn’t his dad anymore, and is trying to kill him, whilst 83% of his support system is presumed dead. Also the girl who emotionally abused him dies for realsies.

Seasons eleven through fifteen are Lloyd trying to figure out how to address all the shit he’s been through without letting it consume him. It’s him leaning on his friends, allowing himself to confide in others and finally acknowledging how much that stuff fucked him up. It’s him accepting that the world can be cruel and it’s him choosing to believe that people can still be good. It’s him learning to trust again, and it’s him allowing himself to feel his hurt while still finding a way to live in spite of it.

Crystallized is Lloyd giving up. Everything he has he loses, everyone he loves leaves — by choice or otherwise. Just like Kai, he internalizes this loss by rationalizing that he wasn’t good enough to save them. He walks away. He tries to live a normal life for a bit. It isn’t enough. He can’t not do anything. He can’t leave the family he’s found, the family that found him. No matter how much it hurts to lose them, he will never stop fighting to find them again. Even if he has to face everything he hates and fears about himself, even if he has to confront the man that was once his father, even if he has to willingly step into what he fears most — letting his anger and hurt consume him, becoming just another perpetuator of violence and loss — he will never stop fighting to protect those he loves. He can’t cross that line. He could if he wanted to, but he can’t and he never will, but loss of any kind is not something Lloyd is willing to take sitting down.

And then in the Merge, Lloyd loses everyone all over again. He’s entirely and undeniably alone for the first time in years, but why does it feel so familiar? He’s mourned so many loved ones so many times, but why does this feel so different? But he’s not alone, not entirely. The others could still be out there, and there are still people to be saved. Loss is an old friend of his, but she never sticks around. In spite of it all, Lloyd keeps living. He keeps fighting and he keeps loving. He stays isolated in the monastery, but the doors stay open. He’s learned to keep his heart open, even when heavy with loss. He continues to look for his family and he continues help people where he can. He remembers how lost he has been, how lost he once was, with nowhere and no one to call home, and he will never give up until no one is ever that alone ever again. Lloyd has lost so much, but he’s learned to never stop letting people in. Arin and Sora remind him so much of himself — two kids left to fend for themselves, no family to be found but each other, unnoticed by the world at large until their potentials show themselves — and there was never a world in which Lloyd didn’t take them in with open arms.

Was written in response to this post by @alizibtheterrible but it quickly got out of hand and I didn’t want to hijack their post lol

[idontcaboose]

Dp x Shazam/Dc prompt

Danny is now ghost king after the reborn 7 deadly sins caused the world to be

A) destroyed, causing Danny to universe hop

B) scarred, only amity is destroyed/forgotten. where Danny went to live in the Infinite Realms only to come back years/decades/centuries later to enjoy the living realm again

The sins are back, and Danny feels obligated to keep what happened last time from happening again. At least he has the Champion of Magic to assist this time.

Disclaimer: I know that the Shazam comics have the sins as a regular rogue, but not what they do or how they are portrayed. Just woke up from a weird dream, and this prompt hit me like a truck.

For those who want to use my sleep addled thoughts on the Sins Danny faced for maximum angst, here you go:

Let me know your thoughts on who would be who, Dp or Shazam/DC world.

Maddie Fenton - Pride

Pretty self-explanatory, Maddie was always proud of what she did, even when it obviously was detrimental to others.

Jack Fenton - Sloth / Pride

Jack could be either, another half of Maddie or as Sloth. Sloth in the way all of the inventions either never worked or never worked right. He never took the time to make anything correctly or safely. By taking shortcuts or planning just enough to make it functional (and most of the time, not even that) makes me feel Sloth would work for him.

Vlad - Envy

This one is also pretty self-explanatory, he envies the Fentons for having what he does not. We have all seen the extremes he wnt to for that. *side eyes Dan and Dani*

Sam - Greed

Sam wants to be needed, noticed, and validated. She got Danny killed for a picture and did it again when she wished for her not to know them and realised she was a 'nobody' without Danny. For all she is against corporate greed, greed does not always mean monetary wealth. She is greedy for any attention and has gone to extreme lengths to gain it.

Jazz - Gluttony

Jazz, much like Sam, wants validation and attention, but her way is more wanting to feast on family ties. She craves for any attention she can garner from her parents and Danny. I feel the saying "A glutton for punishment" fits Jazz a little too well for her to not be an aspect of gluttony. Gluttony does not always mean food.

Dani - Lust

LUST DOES NOT ALWAYS MEAN SEX.

Now that the PSA is out of the way, Dani is defined by the word Wonderlust. She lusts after the life she never got to live, and is willing to leave the people who helped her to chase that dream.

Dan - Wrath

I feel this one is also pretty self-explanatory. Dan destroyed the entire planet in his rage. If that isn't the textbook definition, then I will eat my hat.

Now, I know I left Tucker and Valerie out of the list, but if I had to replace or choose a sin for each:

Tucker - Sloth / Pride

Tucker does good and is helpful, but he is rarely the one spearheading anything. He usually has to have either Danny or Sam push him into action, and even then, it is met with grumbled annoyance. I feel like Jack is a better Sloth.

Tucker has his vision of himself and isn't afraid to show it, even if it makes others uncomfortable. A lot of times where Tucker instigates a problem, it's because he is overconfident in his vision, and being a reincarnation did not help with that. Yet, again this feels a little weak compared to Maddie, but I don't feel like Tucker would represent any other sins to detrimental levels.

Valerie - Pride / Wrath

Valerie, before and after she became the Red Huntress, had always been prideful. To the point where after she fell off the A-lister pedestal, she hunted down the one responsible with extreme prejudice. She would kill for that back and went to the extreme to do so. As with Tucker, I don't feel like Valerie truly fits like the others above.

[kairiscorner]

felt inspired by laufey's songs (might do a series on these if they're any good)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

when you can't keep your promise

summary: he fills his lonely nights with a magnum bottle of some wine whose name he can't even pronounce right, with a whole pack of marlboro cigarettes he finishes in a few hours; and he ends every night with you as his final thought before he's out cold and has to live another day tomorrow. another day without you. and it kills him every day when he realizes he's forgetting what you feel like, what you sound like, what warmth you have that's like none other when you sleep together.

word count: 1,309

click, click, click.

he couldn't stop himself from playing with the lighter's mechanism, the cap was too much fun to not flick around with; though he had every chance to ignite a small flame, keep his finger down on the button and watch as the gas spews out of the lighter and prolongs the flame's life, and maybe... do a few worse things than light a cigarette in this small motel room he got. the floor was carpeted, it was a red velvet shade that became a dark cherrywood as the burgundy wine he bought from a local bodega spilled onto the carpeted floors; staining it ceaselessly as the half-empty magnum bottle he bought for himself lay on its side as its contents poured out, pooling onto the floor and creating a growing puddle that multiplied in size as the bottle was emptied of all that it had. he felt over his left hand, his scarred and scratched at hand that endured many sufferings, too much chaos, and... moments of affection that were too fleeting for him to even recollect the feeling of being in those moments. he ran over his knuckles, which were reddened and swollen, what with having decorated the bland, olive green walls of the room with a brand new spanking hole in it that exposed the plain concrete as the dried paint was punched off. he took in a brief, sharp breath as he felt over them; but nothing could ever replicate their touch, no matter how much he ran his fingers over his knuckles, you still were never there.

you couldn't be.

you could never be.

i made a promise to distance myself.

"so..." you uttered in a monotonous voice, your eyes unmoving from the papers that lay strewn in front of you on the coffee table. you sat with your hands on your lap, your lips thinned as you pursed your lips inward; trying to conceal the quiver in your lips, which would give away the sheer weakness you fell victim to when he came home and gave way to the very thing you feared. that he'd divorce you. he'd choose his responsibility as spider man over you, he'd choose the safety of the city, of the world--of the universe--over you.

it's always everything over you, because without everything... where would you be?

"what do you plan to do now?" you asked with a slight crack in your voice, trying to hide the shudder crawling up out of your throat, to conceal the shakiness in your tone. you tried your hardest to remain strong and fortified, even if deep inside, you wanted to cry into the pillows of your couch, scream at him, curse at him for wasting all your efforts into loving him; but then cursing at yourself for knowing you didn't need to put any effort into loving him.

you loved him so much you'd give him your whole life, and you'd do it again and again and again, in every universe.

took a flight, through aurora skies.

peter didn't look your way when he answered, he stared off into a corner in the room, as if the answer to all this confusion, melancholy, and suffering that he's put you through makes any sense. as if the sense of this whole situation was right here, in the living room, but just... doesn't.

"i'll be... i'll be living with aunt may again." he responded in a raspy voice, a sign he'd been smoking again, and in more intense intervals. he scratched his forehead lightly, and as you looked up at him--in search of a meaningful response to a question you had that was on top of a mountain of other questions--you noticed the white of his eyes were tinted red. they were nearly bloodshot, and the bottom of his eyelids were dark, with circles accentuating their roundness; peter hadn't slept a wink last night, and of course, he didn't for the past few days, but you didn't need to know that. you nodded, not exactly in agreement, what was there to agree about? you certainly weren't happy about all this, you weren't the least bit happy when he came over to collect his things and hand back the rest of the house you two bought together back to you. it all just...

"it's surreal."

peter glances over at you with his reddened eyes, seeing how puffed up and wet yours look. your nose was twitching, you looked as if you were about to sob a whole flood of your tears until your head ached again, but you didn't want to give peter that satisfaction. like hell you'd cry for him. you took in a shaky breath as you continued. "last year, you went on and on about filling our house with happy memories. building this house from scratch like we did, getting a dog after building the doghouse that's now good for firewood--filling our days with laughter and happiness with two kids of our own..." you went on, not feeling the trickling of a tear from the sob you were trying your damn hardest to choke back. peter sighed as you reminded him of that delusional vision you two shared, those dreams you both worked hard to make a reality, only to have the only reality you two live come crumbling down on both of you. "it is." he replied as he took off his glasses, tears welling up in his eyes that he blinked away. he placed his glasses back on and lightly shook his head as he headed for the door.

honestly, i didn't think about how we didn't say goodbye.

"but those were all delusions of grandeur."

"...i hope you're happy, peter."

and that was the last thing he could remember from this afternoon. they were all lies.

he wasn't staying with aunt may, he was at a dingy motel in who knows where. he was here, wasting his lungs away at his third cigarette box, and wasting thirty dollars worth of that red grape wine whose flavor he abhorred. it tasted salty, actually.

his tears made it all the more unbearable to drink when they mingled together, when he finally let his tears roll down his cheeks and coat his lips.

just see you very soon.

it hurts to be something.

he choked on the burning tobacco that coated his lungs, his breath was getting more and more ragged. he had never smoked this much in his life, not even when uncle benjamin passed. you were his world, his universe--his everything--and then, you were gone.

the worst part was that it was of his own doing.

he didn't want to vandalize this place any more than he already has, the lovely hole he planted would be a constant reminder to him for as long as he decided to mope here and sulk about his regrettable decision that he let go of you. and had he lived a life where he didn't need to let go of all the things nearest and dearest to his heart, he'd've stayed with you forever. he'd've held you forever, kissed you all over forever, never leave a single patch of your body undiscovered and unloved.

"i'd spend eternity with you. if i just wasn't... if things just... just weren't..."

he choked out those unfinished thoughts as he threw himself on the bed, an ache permeating in his chest as he felt the downpour of sobs come raining down on the sheets. he cried, screamed, and wept into those sheets--as though the sheets were the only ones who could ever comprehend his sorrow, could provide him some ease, some comfort, past his horrible, horrible decision of letting you go to protect you.

you once made him feel like he had everything.

you were his everything. and now,

it's worse to be nothing without you.

a/n: tbh this felt kinda rushed, so i'm sorry if it also feels that way for you TT but i hoped y'all enjoyed this, maybe while crying :' ))

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy @fictarian

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 3)

Word count: 9.1k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, language, fluff, angst, violence.

This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

SAM POV

New Year’s Eve 2017

Chasing your drunk girlfriend around a party where she knows practically everyone proved to be a daunting task. As soon as you would find her she would pop out of sight and find someone new to strike up a conversation with. Elle was like magic, she could instantly transform any situation into a reason to have fun. However, at parties she was slippery. Hard to grasp and keep in one place, you knew that she had never been tied down a day in her life. You liked her that way. 

So tonight as you watch her flit around the room transferring her happiness to everyone she met, you decided to sit back and watch. After securing your New Year’s kiss at midnight, you watched as people began to slowly file out. The crowd began to grow thin, and you took an empty seat on your old family sofa, chatting casually with whoever passed by.

Even through the crowd of people you could hear the crashing of the back door against the frame. Maybe it's because you lived here and recognized the sound, but no one else seemed to notice. You snapped your head in its direction and you saw her. Her new boyfriend had her by her arm, fingers digging into her bicep as she tried to push him off of her. Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the situation. Squinting your eyes, you watch him drag her across the backside of your living room. He bends to whisper something in her ear as she turns her head away from him. Something is not right.

As he throws open the front door, he escorts her out first looking behind himself as he shuts the door. Instinctively you stand, your legs carrying you over to the window to check on them. You see him slamming the door after her, before getting into the driver's side. Wheels spinning in the yard as he pulls out onto the street. Your heart is racing. Is she okay? It’s not like her to leave without saying goodbye. Should I tell someone?

Seeing Elle deep in conversation, you make your way to the patio, Jake’s favorite hiding spot for situations like these. He was never much of a partier, choosing to have a few drinks and spend time in his own head. As you step outside you see him leaning against the railing on the side of the house where the light burned out years ago. It never got changed because Jake ‘liked it that way’.

As you approach him you can see the look of fury on his face. Something has him pissed off, and you think you may have a clue. You lean against the railing next to him, just silent for a few minutes before you finally break.

“Did you see her?” you ask.

His head turns to you, “Yeah, I saw her… And him.” he answers, a darkness pooling in his eyes.

“He seems like a real piece of work. I just watched him drag her by the arm across the living room. She looked upset. I am kind of worried…” you trail off. 

“He did that shit out here too. She was out here talking to me and he lost it and told her they were leaving. Yanked her right out of the chair, cussing, the whole nine. I thought I might kill him, but not all of us can con our way out of jail with our good looks…” he says smirking at you.

“It was one time…” you laugh. Your tone returns to worry, “You think she is okay though?” 

“She’s a tough one. She can hold her own. We have all been drinking…I’m sure she is fine.” he says. You nod your head in response, as you hear Elle pop through the back door calling your name.

JAKE POV

The truth is that you don’t know if she’s okay. You have a bad feeling about Andy. Call it a hunch. But you can’t let Sammy know that. He will be worried sick over her. His best friend. She’s been gone for 5 minutes and you already have a nagging feeling in your chest. You know something isn’t right. 

Hours pass as you think about her and what happened tonight. Maybe you should have tried harder, stood your ground. Taken her behind you, protected her. But you couldn’t. You know that in just a few days she will be back in Ann Arbor with him, with no one to protect her from the repercussions of what you might have done to save her tonight. It was better to let her go. Safer even. You hated every second of it. 

But, she said it. Those words you have been dying to hear fall from her lips. She loves you. Still. She never stopped. Dread washes over your body as you remember the other things she said. The hurtful things, the ugly truths you didn’t want to hear. ‘He wasn't gone…’, ‘He didn’t leave me’. The sentiments swirl through your head. She was right. You did leave her. You had no choice. You left her and hated every waking second spent away from her. Your mind has been plagued by her day in and day out. Always and only her. 

When Sam met Elle you were happy for him. Finally he could take his mind off of not being with the girl he always dreamed he would be with. You felt his pain. Wallowed with him in secret. What are the odds that the two of you both spent your nights sleeplessly tossing and turning in turmoil over the same girl? The girl who was off in someone else's arms just to dull the pain of not having you. 

Sam stopped mentioning her after a while. It almost made you sad. Was he forgetting her? How could he? Why couldn’t you? 

But you knew why. You didn’t want to. Every girl at gigs vying for your attention, the ones that would inevitably make it backstage, the ones draped around Danny and Josh, the ones you would see sneaking out of hotel rooms early in the morning… they could never hold a candle to her. They would never be her.

HER POV 

“Andy stop, let go of me.” you say, pulling your arm away from him as he forces you through the house.

He bends down to growl into your ear, “We will talk about this in the car. Let’s go.” You turn your face away from him, not even able to look at him in the moment. Crossing the living room you are glad to not recognize any faces, embarrassed of what they might think. As he pushes you through the front door, he closes it swiftly behind himself, unlocking his car at the same time. He pulls open the passenger door and instructs you to get in before slamming the door behind you. He is in the driver's seat in seconds, wheels spinning as he pulls out of the grass and onto the pavement. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve never seen him like this before. He is really mad, and to be honest you don’t blame him. What he walked in on was nothing short of shocking. “Andy I–” 

“Shut up.” he seethes, cutting you off before you even have a chance to explain. His knuckles were white with his hard grip on the steering wheel. “Do you love that guy?”

You sit nervously in the passenger seat, not fully processing his question. 

Suddenly he punches the steering wheel, “Answer me! Do you love him?!” he screams.

Panic stricken you lie, “NO!” afraid of what would happen if you told the truth. “Of course I don’t! I was drunk I didn’t mean it!” 

His car abruptly comes to a halt outside your parents house, “Get out,” he says, his eyes glossed over and glued to the street ahead of him. 

Taking the opportunity to get as far away from him as possible, you throw the door open and shut it behind you as he speeds off. 

You are shaking with nerves and feel sick to your stomach. What just happened?

You quickly make your way inside and to your room. You close the door quietly behind you so as to not wake your parents as you struggle to keep yourself from having a panic attack.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you pull your phone from your purse and see a text from Sam.

Sam: You okay? 

There was a time in your life where you would tell him everything. Every secret, every thought you had. But things aren't like that anymore. You want to tell him everything, but you can’t. You gave that up when you ghosted him for months on end, and for what? For a guy who yells at you in front of your friends? A guy who lays his hands on you and tells you to shut up? 

You: Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for inviting me to the party, I had a good time.

Sam: You sure about that…

You: Yes…

Sam: You would tell me if you didn’t have a good time… right?

You: Yes. I think we all just had a little too much to drink.

Sam: Okay. 

You hated lying to him, but you had to. What were you supposed to say? Sorry my boyfriend lost his cool and made us leave? It was better to leave things this way. Your mind shoots back to Jake and what he said tonight. What you said.

I told him I love him. I do. That part was true.

‘You disappeared! I waited for you! I thought you felt the same! You told me you felt the same!’

Those words shattered you. He waited for you, but you didn’t wait for him. You couldn’t. It hurt too bad. 

‘But even from halfway across the country I wanted you. I always wanted you. Only you!’

The worst part of all of this is that you still wanted him too. You’ve only ever wanted him. But there was Andy. You wanted Andy, but in a different way you wanted Jake. He would never be to you, what Jake was. You would never want Andy in the same way that you longed for Jake. It was a different, ancient kind of longing. Forbidden, making it all the more painful. You meant what you said tonight. You do love Jake. You never stopped loving him. You know that you always will love him, but you don’t know if the time will ever come for the two of you.

–

A few days after returning to school for the start of the new semester you heard from Andy. He wanted to talk, and you were willing. You wanted to fix things, you knew you screwed up but he wasn’t exactly innocent either. When he called and asked you to come over you agreed, nervously counting the minutes until class ended. You knew what you were going to say, you had it all planned out. You hoped he would forgive you.

As you knocked on the door to his apartment, he greeted you with a smile. You stepped in as he pulled you into a hug. You weren’t sure what to expect but this definitely wasn’t it. He stepped back from you, pulling your arm to examine the four tiny faded purple marks. “These are from me?” he asks, brow furrowed in sadness.

“Yeah…” you say shyly.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was just blinded with rage. Hearing you say that to him… I don’t know. I snapped. I really am sorry. I just… love you so much. You make me crazy…” he implores.

He loves you?

Andy sullenly made his way over to the couch and plopped down, his head falling into his hands. You could tell he really was torn up.

“I’ve never felt like this about someone. I need you. Please say you forgive me.” he begs. 

Taking in his words the best you can, you search his face for any sign of insincerity. It really does feel like he means it. He seems to be being genuine and his piercing eyes are begging you to take him back. His hand gently glides down your arm, stopping when it meets your hand. He pulls your hand to his lips placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know you aren’t usually like that, and if you really are sorry, I can forgive you. But you embarrassed me in front of my friends. You can't do that, ever again.” you say. 

“I swear. Never again.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile.

“Okay…” you reply hesitantly. “Do you mean it though?” you ask.

“Mean what?” he asks.

“You said you love me…” you say.

“Yeah, I do. I do mean it. I’m crazy about you. I can’t lose you.” he replies.

You feel a flutter spread through your chest as his eyes meet yours. You press your lips to his, forgiving him for his actions and praying it would never happen again.

---

April 2018

It had been three months since the New Years Party and things had been so much better. You had spent almost every day together. He had gone above and beyond taking you on dates, starting each morning with a text and ending each night on the phone. Of course, some nights you were together into the morning, but even then it was good. He had even made it a point to take you back home to meet his family, who you instantly felt very welcome and comfortable with. Things had never been better between the two of you. But there would always be that one thing you could and would never tell him. Something you'd carry with you for life.

As you walked to class you reveled in the warmth of the sun. It had been cold and cloudy, but today the sun warmed the air and everyone was taking advantage of it. Ascending the steps to the building you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Danny: Hey! I am throwing a surprise party for Sam’s birthday in a few days, can you come?

Sam’s birthday?

You check the date on your phone and see it’s in two days. Crap you almost missed it. 

You: Absolutely. I will be there, just text me the details.

Danny: Awesome, I will.

This was your chance to make things right with Sam. Show him that you are still his best friend and that you are still there for him. Truthfully you do miss him and find yourself often wishing you could just call him up like you used to. Maybe after this party you would be able to do that again.

After classes that day you made your way to the bookstore near campus. You knew exactly what you wanted to get Sam for his birthday. Skimming the spines of books on the shelf you spot it. The exact book you checked out from the library that day so many years ago, ‘The Birth of Loud’. The book the two of you poured over for weeks working on your History project. There were a few times you caught Sam reading it for fun. You knew he would love it, so as you handed the cashier your money she put the red book in the paper bag and you were on your way. As soon as you got back to your dorm you took the extra time to write a special message on the inside cover. Your ‘I’m Sorry’ statement.

‘I promise I won’t be a ghost anymore. Proud of you Rockstar. Happy Birthday.’

—

As you and Andy make the drive up to Frankenmuth, you fidget anxiously in the passenger seat. He has insisted on coming with you, in fact demanded, hoping to make a better impression on your friends. You reluctantly agreed. Your mind is racing, knowing that more than likely Jake would be there. You haven’t spoken since that night. The wounds still too fresh. Would you talk tonight? What would you say? Sensing your anxiety, Andy places his hand on your leg, instantly calming you. 

A while later you are pulling up in front of that same house you know so well. A few cars line the streets, but not as many as you expected. It looked to be a small get together rather than a party. You swallow the lump in your throat when you spot Jake’s car in the driveway and open your car door. Andy greets you on the other side, offering his arm to you as you walk up to the porch.

You peek into the front door to make sure it's ok to walk in, and you see people standing around talking quietly near the couch. Danny spots you and rushes over to you, ushering you in, and telling you that Sam will be there any minute. You make your way into the kitchen with the rest of the crew and wait nervously. No sign of Jake just yet, thankfully. 

Andy quickly makes you both drinks and returns to your side, as Danny shushes the small crowd of people. Seconds later you all hear the front door open and smile nervously at each other. As he steps foot into the kitchen the whole group shouts ‘surprise’ and Sam’s signature smile crosses his face. He is happy, and you missed his happy smile. His eyes lock with yours and there is an unspoken conversation had. He is glad you’re here, and you knew you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Maybe things will be okay between the two of you after all. 

This party was different from the last, you knew most everyone here. It made conversing and mingling fun and less daunting. You caught up with old highschool friends and reminisced over the good old days. You missed those days. Days spent in this very house. From across the room you see him. He glides down the stairs and into the living room, taking a look for familiar faces. As your eyes meet, his brow furrows. He looks to Andy, who isn’t paying attention, and turns his head walking away into the kitchen. 

It’s only been three months since you’ve seen him but he looks different now. More…mature. His hair is longer, hanging down past his shoulders. His jaw more pronounced. He has a glow about him that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you find that you positively cannot take your eyes off of him, and even worse, you don’t want to.

The doorbell rings snapping you from your daydreams, and you see Daniel accepting a stack of pizza from the young delivery driver. Thank god, you were starving. You broke away from Andy to help Daniel carry the pizzas to the kitchen. You remembered where the paper plates were so you pulled them from the pantry and set them on the counter. 

Danny looked over to you as he spread the boxes across the empty counters, “Thanks for coming. I know it means a lot to Sam.” he said with a soft smile.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it. I miss you guys.” you reply.

“We miss you too.” he says.

“Where are Karen and Kelly, I’d love to see them?” you ask.

“Oh, they went to see Kelly’s parents for the weekend. Left Jake in charge…” he smirks walking into the living room.

Sam walks into the kitchen, seeing you and pulling you into a bear hug. “I can’t believe you came!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Of course I came! You’re my best friend!” you laugh.

“Am I? Still?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Sammy… you’ll always be my best friend. That hurts!” you joke.

“Well, good. Don’t tell Danny but you’re still my best friend too.” he whispers. 

You give him another hug, just as Jake comes around the corner. “Thank god, the food is here.” he says.

He nods his head at you as a silent hello. He bites his lip and turns his attention to the boxes on the counter. Grabbing a paper plate he puts two slices on top and hands it to you. “Hmm…just like old times, huh?” he smirks.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… seems we have been in this situation before.” you smile.

“Ahh, yes except this time you’re not blushing like a school girl because I handed you a plate.” he says with a wink, causing you to, of course, blush.

“Oh, wait, there it is.” he laughs. 

You roll your eyes and walk to the other side of the kitchen. Andy steps in and sees you, motioning to his cup that he was going to get another drink.

Sam grabs his pizza and joins you as you catch up and laugh over the last few months. Surprisingly Jake sticks around too, joining you and Sam. You can feel the air change as he steps into your orbit. The electricity between you pulsing through the space air. 

Andy approaches with his fresh drink and you feel your body tense up. The last time you were with Jake he lashed out, but he promised it wouldn’t happen again. You took a deep breath as he joined your small circle. 

He reached his hand out to shake with Sam, “Hey man, good to see you again, Happy Birthday!” he says politely. This is the Andy you knew, friendly and charismatic. Sam thanks him and turns his attention back to your conversation, but you are distracted by the other two men in front of you that have done nothing but occupy your mind for the past several months. 

Andy reaches his hand out to shake with Jake. He wipes his hand on his dark jeans and returns the handshake. “Hey I’m Andy, nice to meet you.” he says with a smile.

“Jake. Nice to meet you too, thanks for coming out.” he replies.

Okay, all good so far. 

Sam starts a new conversation about when they would resume the tour, and what was coming up this summer. He asked about your summer plans and if you would be around and truthfully you didn’t know. You hadn’t even thought about it yet, but you were pretty sure you would be home for the summer, and secretly hoped they would be too. 

“I guess, it depends, what are you guys going to be doing this summer?” you ask playfully. 

“Actually, we have a long break from May to the end of July, so we will probably be here and in the studio if I had to guess.” Jake interjects. 

“Maybe we can all go to the lake one day, like old times.” you smile.

“Yeah! Let’s do it! Yeah that’s what I want for my birthday! You come to the lake with us again!” Sam begs.

“Okay, okay! I think I can swing it, but I guess I will have to take your real gift back.” you joke. 

“Well I guess you better put that pizza down then.” Andy chides.

You all turn to look at him as he stands there with a smug look. “What?” you ask.

“You need to start working on your summer body, and that…” he says pointing to your plate, “is going to make it worse.” he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you harshly into his side. 

Pulling away from him you look at your plate. You are taken aback. “What do you mean my ‘summer body’, Andy?” you ask confrontationally.

“I think you could slim down before parading around in bikinis all summer, don’t you think?” he replies.

At this point, Sam and Jake’s jaws hang slack, also stunned by Andy’s words. You don’t respond to him, and wait for the topic to change as you step away, tossing your plate into the trash and heading to the upstairs bathroom.

Your cheeks are flushed red, tears threatening to spill as you ascending up the old wooden stairs. You feel sick to your stomach. Do I really look that bad? Is he right?

You step into the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You examine yourself in the mirror, really taking a look at yourself. You don’t feel like you look that bad, but could it just be distorted perception? Maybe you don't look as good as you thought? Tears roll down your cheeks as you replay the conversation in your head. Why did he have to say that in front of them? Was this his way of marking his territory? You thought he loved you how you were? Why do you need to change your body?

Your cheeks are red and splotchy as you wipe away the wetness on your face. You clear your throat and fix your hair as you turn to unlock the bathroom door and rejoin the party, hoping no one notices your red eyes. 

As you step into the hallway a hand grabs your arm, pulling you into the bedroom next door. You would know that touch anywhere. The door shuts behind you as you see his face. 

You stand there silently, trying not to make eye contact with him. You don’t want him to see your tears. 

“Don’t hide from me. I know you were crying. I heard you.” he whispers.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine.” you lie, turning your face away from him.

“You’re a bad liar, you know.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

He moves his hand to turn your chin to look at him, and he sees the glossiness coating your red rimmed eyes, causing his brows to furrow. “Don’t listen to him. He’s wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful. Perfect even. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see what he has right in front of him.” he says, a look of seriousness on his face.

You cast your eyes down, focusing on the necklace that hangs underneath his shirt. 

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your eyes upwards. His hand moves to rest at your neck. The heat from his hand burns into your skin. 

“Why do you let him treat you like this?” he asks.

“Like what?” you ask, feigning ignorance. 

“You know what. Putting his hands on you, talking down to you…” he replies. 

“He isn’t usually like that.” you say, pleading with him.

“Really, because both times I have been around him, he has been like that and you’ve been upset.” he says.

You don’t answer, biting your cheek at the realization of his observations. 

“Are you happy?” he asks. “If you are, I won’t bring it up again. I’m as good as gone. But I know you, and I don’t think you are.” he says, sliding his hand from your neck down your arm.

You pull your arms across your chest and look down at the floor. “Jake…I–”

Your eyes flash up to his and are met with sadness. There is a long pause of silence between you before he finally speaks, “Okay…” he says, as he steps around you, twisting the handle and walking out of the bedroom. 

You back yourself against the closed door and let the tears fall again. Your heart aches in your chest. Had you just told him it’s over? Really over? You are immediately left feeling like there is a hole in your chest. Panic washes over you. What did you do?

You pull yourself together, looking at yourself in the small mirror on the wall in Jake’s bedroom. You make your way down stairs and notice that the party has moved into the basement. Descending the second set of stairs you see Andy playing beer pong with some guys and notice that he has clearly had more to drink since you left him. His words are slurring and his balance off kilter. 

You walk over to him and tell him that you are back, and he moves you to the side as he ignores your hug, lining himself up for his next shot. Feeling slightly rejected you wander off for a bit talking to Elle, and your friend Sarah from highschool. Jake is on the opposite side of the room, and occasionally your eyes meet his, hoping he could hear what you were screaming in your brain. ‘No, I’m not happy. He’s not you!’  You’re sure that if he could hear you he would run to you, no questions asked. His eyes are sad, and his demeanor has changed. You can tell that he is hurting just as much as you are.

The guys at the beer pong table erupt into loud cheers as the final ball is sunk into the red plastic cup. Of course Andy won, you haven’t seen him lose yet. You smile and shake your head as he approaches you with a huge smug grin.

“Successful as always I see…” you say.

“You know I never lose…had to show these idiots who’s in charge here…” he slurs. He tosses back the rest of the drink in his cup, before disappearing upstairs to inevitably get another. 

“These idiots? These are my friends Andy…” you snap back.

“Ahhh whatever…” he replies haphazardly.

As the night progresses the crowd gets more and more rowdy, losing sight of their inside voices and resulting in full on yelling conversations. Andy is no exception. He has kept his arm around you all night, never letting you stray too far from his side. When you asked to go to the bathroom he told you to ‘come straight back’ to which you replied with an eye roll. When his fist tightened on your shoulder you flinched in pain and pulled away, wincing.

“Andy, stop.” you say.

“No, I’m tired of you running off all the time. You’re my girlfriend. Act like it.” he says gripping your arm as you struggle to pull it away.

“Oh stoppp, you’re fine…” he slurs. 

Sam steps over noticing the interaction, “Hey, what’s up guys?” he says, trying to break the obvious tension.

“Nothing, she is just drunk and being dramatic as usual.” Andy chides.

Sam bites his tongue as you finally break free and begin to walk away, practically sprinting up the stairs. You rub the spot on your arm, sure to leave fresh bruises.

Why is he like this? 

Maybe Jake is right…

You make your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself, before finding yourself hesitating to go back to the basement. Instead you make your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink. You fill the cup with mostly vodka, and a splash of cranberry, hoping the vodka will numb the feeling in your chest. 

Your legs carry you outside onto the deck, taking comfort in the familiar old wicker chair. Relaxing into it you sip your drink. The sound of the music inside reduced to a dull buzz. Your head falls back staring up at the dark sky. You miss this about Frankenmuth. In fact, there is a lot you miss about Frankenmuth. It’s home. They are home. 

You continue to sip your drink, letting the cool wind carry away your cares, and letting the vibration of the music lull you to sleep. You hear voices and your eyes pop open. How long was I sleep? Oh god, where is Andy?

You pull yourself up from the chair, dashing inside and seeing that 30 minutes has passed, but the house is mostly cleared out. Rushing down to the basement you see Josh in the corner talking to someone he has roped into one of his long winded discussions. But more to your surprise you see Andy, passed out on the couch. You walk over to him and shake him to wake him up, but he doesn’t budge. His phone lights up on his stomach, showing a few missed texts from a name you don’t recognize. You pick it up to put it on the coffee table as another comes through.

Rebecca: Miss you too. When do you get back? I can come over that night. ;)

What?

You click on the text and see that they have been talking all night, and actually for much much longer than that. A sick feeling washes over you. How long has this been going on? Pushing the thought from your head you drag yourself upstairs to find one more drink, desperate to forget this entire night. 

Your hand shakily pours the vodka into the plastic cup, as your eyes scan the counter for any type of mixer. When you find that mostly everything is empty you sigh and let your head hang in defeat. You just can't win.

JAKE POV

As you stumble into the kitchen, you see her. Standing at the counter attempting to pour herself a drink. As she picks up empty bottles of mixers you see her hang her head and a sigh leave her chest. You’ve never seen her drink this much, and you know that she is still upset about earlier. You find yourself in a similar predicament. How are you supposed to feel when the girl you love chooses to be with someone else? Someone that treats her the way he does.  

You’ve watched him all night. Observed him, really. You know guys like him. Puts on a cool guy front around people but acts differently behind closed doors, or in this case when he has a little too much to drink. You don’t like him, and you certainly don’t trust him. Especially with her.

You quietly open the pantry door, pulling out a warm can of Lime LaCroix, “Will this work?” you call across the kitchen. 

Her head snaps over to you, as you lift the can in her direction and her gaze softens, “Yes… Thank you.” 

You make your way over to her, pulling the tab on the can and pouring it over the ice and vodka. You watch it fizz in the cup as she leans against the counter to face you.

“I’m guessing he is driving?” you ask. 

She grabs the drink and looks at you, “Well, since he is passed out in your basement, I don’t have high hopes.” she says with a soft smile.

I knew it was too quiet around here…

She walks into the living room and you follow close behind. She sits on the old couch, sinking into its plush cushions. You take a seat in the chair next to her, propping your favorite dirty boots up on the coffee table. Just as you go to speak, Sam walks into the room to see both of you.

“Well, Elle is down for the count…” he laughs.

“Yeah, we were just discussing my drunk date passed out in your basement.” she says, shaking her head.

“He was supposed to drive…” you say to Sam, rolling your eyes. Both of you nodding in unspoken agreement that the guy is a prick.

“I am not sure how I am supposed to get him back to the AirBnB…” she jokes.

In unison you and Sam both reply, “Stay here.”

She laughs thinking you are joking, before she realizes you’re serious. 

“Really, you have been drinking. Stay here, please. I will worry if you don’t.” Sam says, flashing his big brown puppy dog eyes at her, that you know she can’t say no to.

“He’s right…” you say, tipping your head towards her.

Please stay. Let me talk to you for a while…

You can tell she’s thinking about it. The tiny crease between her eyebrows has always been her dead giveaway, and this was no exception. Her brow relaxes and she looks at both of you.

“Alright, but only if one of you gets drunk with me.” she smiles.

“Oh, not me. I already have to take care of Elle who thinks I came down here for water.” he laughs.

“Guess that leaves me…” you reply. “I’m halfway there anyways…”

She tips her cup to her lips, drinking down the alcohol, shuddering at the hefty pour of vodka. You watch as it travels down her throat, and you feel a tingle flash through your chest. 

“Goodnight, see you two in the morning!” Sam says, cheerfully walking off.

She watches him walk away before turning her attention to you, your eyes already fixed on her.

The house is quiet, the soft snores from upstairs are the tell tale sign that Josh is sleeping soundly.

“I’ll be right back…” you say, standing up and walking towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Shhhhh… give me a second.” you smile before quietly walking up the stairs. You step into your room and open your wooden cigar box pulling out the joint you rolled this afternoon. You close the box and walk back down the stairs, happy to find her sitting in the same spot you left her.

You walk over to her and stand in front of her, pulling the joint from your shirt pocket. You wiggle it between your fingers as you extend your hand to help her up. She takes it and joins you as you make your way to the back door. 

You open the door letting her out as you follow behind her. The air has grown colder since sunset and you know she will be cold soon. This probably won't last long. As she sits in her favorite chair, you take the seat next to her. It feels good to be here with her. Somehow things are different out here. In this spot both of you can be open with each other. Talk. Tell the truth.

You light the joint, and pass it to her, letting her hit it first. You take turns passing it back and forth in the silence as you typically do until you’ve both had your fill. You tap the end between your fingers, extinguishing the smoldering end. 

“You know, I was out here earlier…” she says, staring off into the dark field. “I was just staring at the sky. I miss it here. It’s the only place I can see the stars.”

“When we were gone I missed it too. There is something different about this place.” you say. Theres a beat of silence between the two of you.

She tilts her head back staring up again, “Did you miss me when you were gone?” she asks. 

“Everyday. I told you that.” you reply.

“I think I thought about you every single day. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did.” she says. You know she is faded when she starts to tell her own secrets and you usually stop her, but this time you let her.

“Why?” you ask.

“You are just always there. In my mind, taking a walk through every memory.” she answers. You know exactly what she means. Every memory you replay in your head is somehow about her.

“Just tell me if you’re happy…Does he really make you happy?” you ask.

“I think so…” she answers, but you can tell by the inflection of her voice that she is lying. You’ve always been able to tell. 

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” you say, turning your head to her. 

She turns to look at you, eyes glossy and heavy, “We have happy moments, but it’s not always like that. I don’t think he will ever truly make me happy. No one could. But that’s only because they’ll never be you…” and as the words leave her lips she turns her face back to the sky. Her sentiments are like a dagger to the heart.

You sip your drink in silence until it’s empty, letting her words roll around in your head until they find a soft place to land. 

“He is texting some other girl…” she says, barely a whisper from her lips. A drunken confession.

“What?” you shoot back.

“His phone. I saw it. When I went back down to the basement earlier. I saw him passed out on the couch, his phone laying there. I saw the texts. That’s when you found me in the kitchen.” she slurs.

Your face heats with anger. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“I wish. The joke of it all is that he tells me how lucky I am to be with someone like him… I don’t feel very lucky right now.” she says finishing her drink.

“God, you don’t deserve this! Why don’t you see it! We all see it!” you say, raising your voice.

“He’s not usually like this!” she replies.

“How many times does he have to do it before it becomes the usual!? Let me guess, he tells you that ‘you’ll never find someone better than him?’ ‘No one that loves you like he does?’” you ask.

“Jake… please.” she says, clearly flustered. She knows you’re right. 

“I’m sorry. I just… can’t stand to see you being treated like this.” you say.

“I wish things were different.” she whispers.

“Me too.” you reply.

You sit in silence for a little while longer, before you notice her shivering from the cold. The alcohol and weed have made her numb to it, but you know she is cold and her body is showing it. You remove your blue corduroy overshirt and toss it to her, “Here, you’re shivering.”

She gratefully accepts it and you watch as she slides her arms through, seeing the dark purple mark on the inside of her arm. She pulls it tight across her chest accepting the warmth it's holding in its fibers. A fire burns through your chest seeing her in your clothes. You’re positive she’s never looked more beautiful.

“You have bruises…” you question.

“I think sometimes he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.” She offers.

Lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Marking her, manipulating her.

“Do you want to go in? I think the fire is still going in the fireplace…” you ask.

“Yeah, but I will probably fall asleep.” she smiles.

“Well I can let you go to sleep? You take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” you say.

“Nooo, Jake I can’t take your bed. This is your house!” she replies.

“But I want you to.” you reply honestly, knowing that the scent of her on your pillow will linger for days.

“Just come talk to me on the couch for a little while longer.” she asks, and you know you’d do anything she asked when she looked at you like that.

“Lead the way…” you smile back at her. 

You spend the next hour talking about her school, your tour and anything else you can come up with, but you see the light in her eyes fading. She has progressively sunken further and further into you on the couch as the minutes have passed. As her head finally dips to rest on your shoulder, you know she’s dozing off. Feeling her soft breath on your shoulder, you let her sleep for a while. You scroll through your phone until the fire completely dies and the clock reads 1:00.

As you go to slide from underneath her, you position yourself in front of her, tapping her shoulder. “Hey, you want to go sleep in my bed?” You whisper.

“No, I’ll sleep here. You go.” she replies, voice groggy, and laced with alcohol.

Knowing that she isn’t going to go of her own free will, you decide for her, scooping her into your arms. Her eyes open wide as she realizes what’s happening, and instinctively wraps her arms around your neck.

“What are you doing! Put me down!” she whispers.

“Shhhh.” You whisper into her hair. You reach the top of the steps and open your bedroom door, stepping inside and laying her on top of the quilt. You untie her shoes, placing them at the foot of the bed. 

She opens her eyes and sits up, looking around the room. She slides your shirt off of her arms and lays it next to her. “Got anything a little more… comfy?” she asks.

You can’t help the smile that pulls across your lips, as you open your dresser drawer and pull out a tee shirt. You open it up to see which one it is, and nod, throwing it over to her. 

She catches it and looks at it, flashing you a knowing grin. “Oh I bet you’re loving this aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” you answer. 

You grab yourself some clothes and an extra blanket, “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“Wait!” she says, stopping you in your tracks. You turn to look at her.

“Um… can you stay in here for a little while?” she asks, practically melting your heart. She doesn’t want you to leave her yet.

“If you want me to?” you say, throwing the blanket over your desk chair.

“Okay.” she replies, nodding her head. 

You make your way to the door, and you see her brow furrow. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back, I promise.” you laugh. You can see her cheeks blush pink. Your favorite color in the world.

You flash her a smile and close the bedroom door. You make your way to the bathroom, changing out of your clothes and pulling on a pair of shorts. You brush your teeth and try not to seem too eager about returning to the girl in your room. 

As you quietly pad down the hallway your mind jumps back to Andy passed out in your basement. You can't believe he would ever dream of talking to another girl. The perfect woman was right in front of him. Why couldn't he see that?

As you gently turn the door knob, you enter the room, seeing her curled up on your pillow. ‘Greta Van Fleet’ displayed across her chest. Your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of her in your bed, with your band on her shirt. A dream realized, in the wrong circumstances. 

“Just sit with me for a little while?” she asks. “Or, unless you don’t want to. You’re probably tired too, I don’t–” you cut her off.

“I want to. Promise.” you say, pulling the desk chair to the side of the bed, sitting and extending your legs up onto the side of the bed. It’s quiet for a few minutes as you stare at each other. Her eyes start to grow heavy, as she whispers your name. “Jake?” 

Your eyes meet hers, and you nod. 

“Will you play me a song…” she asks. You’re fairly confident you’ve waited your whole life for her to ask this question, but now that the moment is here you don’t know what to play.

“I have to be quiet, but I will show you something I have been working on?” you ask.

“Okay…” she whispers, eyes closed, face pushed into the pillow.

You grab your new twelve string from the corner, a gift from the label after your first tour, and begin softly strumming the strings. The notes float around the room like twinkling stars in the sky, lulling her to sleep, not even knowing the song is about her. 

When her eyes fully shut, you quietly place the guitar back on the stand, and turn off the lamp. You pull the quilt up over her shoulders and brush the hair from her face. You look at her, even in the darkness of the room, and wonder how one person could be so beautiful.

As you step away, you grab the door knob and you hear her. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Stay with me.” she says.

“What?” you ask.

“Come back. Come here.” she whispers. 

You walk back over to the bed and feel her hand searching for yours in the dark. Her fingers glide over the top of your hand, feeling the warm skin. “Will you stay here? Stay with me?” she asks nervously.

“Are you sure…” you ask. 

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about.” she says. 

You pull your shirt over your head, and toss it on the chair, climbing into the bed to lay behind her. You will admit you weren’t looking forward to sleeping on the couch, but never did you imagine you’d end your night this way. 

Pulling yourself under the quilt you can feel the heat of her legs radiating onto yours. You turn over to your side to face her back, and move the pillow under your head, a sigh releasing from your chest.

You feel her moving as her body rolls to face you. A tiny bit of moonlight peeks through the blinds at the foot of the bed, allowing you to see her face.

Her hand reaches out and tucks your long hair behind your ear, before resting it in front of her chest. You can feel the tension between the two of you. This is as close as you have ever been to her. Your body calling out to kiss her since that night at the graduation party. You needed her, and here she was. But she wasn't yours to kiss.  

You grab her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her finger tips, “Go to sleep, love.” you whisper.

Her fingers work to intertwine with yours but you release her from your grip knowing if you touch her for too long you won't be able to stop. Instead she pulls herself closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist and holding you. You know right then, that she wants you just as bad as you want her. You know it's probably just the alcohol in her system making her brave, but you revel in it, and enjoy the closeness of her, the smell of her hair against your nose and the feel of her bare legs against yours. You wrap your arm around her waist, clad in just your tshirt and her underwear, pulling her into you further, groaning as her face nuzzles into your neck. She fits with you perfectly, and you wish you could freeze this moment. You aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you think you felt her lips flutter across your neck ever so slightly sending a shiver through your body. Minutes later, you hear her breathing even out, feel the soft rise and fall of her chest, and you know she's out. 

You lay there for a while, taking in every second of this moment. A moment that shouldn’t be happening, but by some miracle was. Your eyes grow tired but you fight it, knowing in the morning this will have to end. When you can't fight it any longer you place a soft kiss on her forehead, letting your eyes close with her wrapped in your arms. 

Sometime around 6AM you heard the bathroom door shut a little too hard, waking you from your sleep. You know this is Josh sending your twin signal for something impending, but you ignore it.  You feel her next to you, on top of you, all over you in fact. Her head is laying on your arm, while her right arm and leg are slung across your body. She is cuddled into your side in ways you have only dreamt of, causing you to grow hard beneath her. Not wanting this moment to end you roll to your side, pulling her close once more, before drifting back to sleep.

When you awoke the second time, it was far less pleasant. Your bedroom door is being thrown open, and your eyes spring wide at the sound. Your vision is blurry still as your eyes adjust to the daylight coming in through the window. She untangles herself from you as she sits up in the bed, pulling the quilt up to cover her.

“Oh, fucking of course. Should have fucking known.” Andy yells, seeing her laying next to you. 

“Andy, stop it’s not what it looks like.” she replies, jumping up out of the bed and walking over to him.

“Oh fuck you, I don’t believe that for a second!” he yells in her face. 

“Hey man, calm down. She’s telling the truth. She was drunk, and not feeling good, and asked me to stay with her since you were passed out in my basement. Nothing happened.” you say, trying to ease the tension.

“Andy, really, I swear it’s–” she starts before he cuts her off.

“You’re a slut, you know that?” he says barreling through the door, and down the stairs.

“Hey!” you yell, throwing the quilt off of you and pulling on your shirt. How dare he talk to her like that.

“I knew you’d sleep with him eventually....you’re such a whore. Embarrassing really…” he yells.

You are flying down the stairs as fast as your feet can take you, You grab her hand and pull her behind you. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. Get the fuck out of my house! Don’t ever come back here again.” you yell to him, pointing to the door. 

He charges at you, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her to his side, “She’s leaving here with me. She is mine and you’d do well to remember that. If you ever touch her again I will make sure it's the last thing those precious hands ever touch.” he threatens.

It takes everything in you to not bash his face in right there and she can see it written all over your face. “She isn’t going any fucking where with you, ever again!” you reply reaching for her. 

She looks at you and shakes her head ‘no’. She’s scared of how he will react. Her eyes well with tears as she struggles to pull away from his grip on her own.

“Let me go Andy!” she yells, his grip tightening on her arm.

Hearing the commotion, Sam comes tearing down the stairs. As he reaches the base of the steps he shouts, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Let her go!” 

“Andy, please you are overreacting!” she pleads, desperately struggling to get away from him.

Fed up with her he screams into her face, “Shut up! Quit fucking speaking!” raising his hand to strike her across the face. As she flinches away from him, you and Sam both spring into action before he makes contact. 

Andy releases his grip on her, and sets his sights on Sam charging towards him in order to deliver a swift punch to his jaw. Sam works valiantly to defend himself from Andy’s relentless onslaught, and defend her honor as he fights him through the front door, slamming it behind him and twisting the lock.  

As it all went down she ran to you. She knew you would never stop if you laid a finger on him. She clung to you to protect her. She stood half clothed and clinging to your chest, sobbing in your arms as she listened to the man who told her he loved her, call her vile names and attack her best friend. She shook in your arms as you held her tightly to you, until it finally went silent.

Sam returned to you both, hands bloody from holding his dripping mouth, riddled with shock as he tries to process what happened. As he watches her cling to you, his eyes meet yours in silent question. With a gentle nod of your head you answer, and it was at that moment Sam finally knew. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama @starshine-wagner @gretavanfvckface @gretavanmoon @gvfjess @misshunnybeebee @fretaganvleet @gvfpal @joshkiszkas @ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs @sammysprincess @gvfpal @objectsinspvce

[gffa]

what do you think would have happened if the jedi had found out anakin was married pre-rots? would he be forced to leave/choose one over the other? are there any circumstances, even one where he was a completely different person, under which anakin would be able to marry padme and remain a member of the order, and if so, what would the consequences of that be (i.e. what would it look like)?

It's such an interesting question because we really know so little about the Jedi worldbuilding, the only two things I can really even think of that talk about it are : - Padme’s incredibly off-hand mention of how Anakin would be expelled if the Jedi found out about their baby.  What’s the context of this, where did she learn this?  Is Anakin the one who told her?  Because I have some Doubts about Anakin’s reliability on these things, considering that he also has shown an unwillingness to accept Jedi philosophy, according to Lucas.  Anakin, who thinks the Council hate him, may be thinking in extremes and wouldn’t even consider that they’d try working with him. - George Lucas gave a talk at Celebration one year and the subject of Jedi giving up marriage was talked about, where it ties into their willingness to be selfless, to be willing to give up everything (because life is impermanent and transient) when the time comes.  They love people, but they cannot hold onto them--and I think the way he’s framing it is that marriage should be selfish, if you’re going to make that commitment. But he doesn’t say anything about Jedi being expelled for it, just that it’s something they give up.  And given how we see Anakin actually breaking a ton of rules or getting into trouble in TCW and never, not once getting in any significant trouble for it, I think the Jedi would very much be willing to sit down and talk about this. For me, I think, yes, he would be asked to choose and, if he refused to, that’s a huge sign that he’s unwilling to follow the Jedi way of selflessness and a willingness to accept their duty to the galaxy, rather than personal concerns, that he could very well get someone killed because, in a crucial moment, he would choose his own feelings over his duty.  The only other time Anakin is threatened with expulsion is in exactly that kind of context--when he was willing to put his fear for Padme above his duty to help end the war before it even started, when he was willing to jump out of that plane on Geonosis rather than go face Dooku, it showed that he was tempted to put all those lives at risk for his own feelings.  Even Obi-Wan points out:  What would Padme do?  She would do her duty, Anakin grudgingly admits.  Because, in Star Wars, that duty is important.  Because, in Star Wars, that’s how the narrative of the story works.  That’s the themes we’re working with here. Is there any universe in which he could remain married and stay a Jedi?  I did once read a fic where Anakin was given the option to remain a Jedi, but he would never achieve the rank of Master, he would never be promoted beyond Knight, and iirc that he would never be given certain types of missions and I liked that fic a lot, it really worked for me.  I think he’d have to be willing to accept that and I’m not sure if he would, but without Palpatine’s influence, in a universe where Anakin was allowed to actually spiritually grow without Palpatine constantly urging him to give in to his worst impulses, he might not like it when he first agrees to it, but I could see him growing to find peace with it. But I can also see a world where, because Anakin is Anakin, he’ll never be able to find balance between these two marriages of his, one to Padme and one to the Jedi, that it only feeds his fears and his greed for the galaxy to bend to his will. But I like the idea that the Jedi love Anakin enough that they would be willing to find a compromise, one that keeps him from getting people hurt because he can’t achieve the balance necessary for the responsibility they’re given, but that he can remain a Jedi and maybe teach saber classes or engineering classes or something.  Jedi love teaching and while I don’t think Anakin has the patience for the toddlers of the creche, I can see him having a good time with a bunch of little gear-heads who love getting their faces stuck inside a droid just as much as he does.

[simplydannie]

Part 1

Floyd now understands the true reason behind his kidnapping and the fraud…. Velvet just wants her brother cured. Floyd can’t help that some is pulling the strings…. Lying to her.

Today was the day of the concert.

Velvet and Veneer were to use some prototype made by Crimp for this night…. Floyd wasn’t looking forward to it. As he sat there in the small, enclosed diamond he couldn’t stop but think what he learned a couple of weeks ago…. Veneer was sick.

This is the reason why Velvet was doing it… why she was so desperate… she didn’t want to loose her brother. What Floyd couldn’t get out of his head, is who in the world told them about Trolls? Who gave them that idea?…. His thoughts were cut short as her the sounds of a small stifled cry.

Floyd turned to see Velvet sitting on her vanity…. She was fully dressed already…tears coming down her face. He had been witnessing along with her that Veneer was slowly declining…

She didn’t know what else to do… somehow the Troll wasn’t helping… Veneer looked thinner…His voice softer… Velvet was slowly seeing her brother whither away to this stupid sickness. She had done everything they said, everything they asked for… yet there were still no answers…. Veneer still wasn’t better… were they lying to her?

“….Velvet…” Floyd said softly. He could see Velvet glance at him with anger in her eyes through her vanity.

“What Troll!” She demanded… she quickly wiped her tears away and resumed her usual demeanor. Floyd really had to choose his words carefully…

“…. Maybe there’s a way we Trolls could help your brother… without really sucking our talent or anything like that.” He said. This caught her attention… she was silent…. She was listening.

“Maybe where I’m from or any Troll for that matter, we could find a cure? There’s so much out there Velvet, I could help you. I hate seeing Veneer decline just as much as you do.” He admitted. There was silence between them for a few moments….

“I can’t….. I can’t risk it.” She finally said.

“Risk what?” Floyd asked.

“Loosing all this.” She replied.

“Velvet there’s more to life than luxury and-“ She cut him off.

“No! You don’t get it! If they see Veneer can’t keep his end… if he can’t keep up, they’ll remove him! They’ll take him away from me!” She said. A terrified look filled her eyes…She glanced at Floyd…Velvet bit her lip…. She had said too much.

“Who? Velvet, who is threatening you guys?!” Before Floyd could get any response, Veneer walked out the bathroom fully dressed.

“… I look stupid.” He said in a monotone voice, disapproval in his eyes. Again in the flip of a switch Velvet adapted her usual attitude.

“Oh shut up you look fine. Let’s kill this show!” She said. Veneer looked himself over in the mirror, he began to feel less and less himself… Floyd saw this… something slowly started to change in Velvet. She then started slowly changing her brother.

“Remember, everyone wants to be you. You’re the star, not them!” She lifted Floyd off from where he stood. She took a few spritz before placing him inside Veneers chest piece. Veneer was hesitant… he knew this was wrong, but he also knew that he couldn’t let his sister down…. She knew what was best for him….right?

“…ya okay. Let’s do this!” He finally said.

The crowd cheered and screamed as the lights dimmed.

“WHATS UP MOUNT RAGEOUS!” Velvet screamed into the mic. The crowd roared with excitement as Velvet and Veneer took center stage.

“WHOSE READY TO LIVE IT UP TONIGHT!” She screamed again. A burst of energy through the crowd. Floyd could make out all the young faces; waiting for anticipation for the idols to take the stage. He glanced sideways at Veneer….

…..He had a distant look in his eyes…. Floyd could feel him swaying back and forth…

“Veneer?” He said. The young Mount Rageoun glanced at him…. Blood began to trickle down his nose.

“Oh gosh! Veneer!” Floyd exclaimed banging on the diamond.

“I’m fine.” Veneer said wiping the blood away. Floyd desperately tried getting Velvets attention by calling her name, banging on the glass. “I’m fine.” Veneer said again.

The lights started to become a blur to him… the sound of Velvet and the crowd grow slow and muffled…. Blood came down his nose again…he could see Velvet turn to look at him… horror in her eyes… he didn’t know what she said….his eyes then rolled behind his head… he fainted right there on the stage….

“Veneer!” Velvets scream echoed across the arena.

… the crowd gasped and grew silent.

[lillyanne4writes]

JJK/Gege Akutami appreciation post

Yeah, you read that title right. I get it that the entire fandom is upset with the latest leaks but I've seen so many angry/hateful comments toward Gege and it's making me sad. So here's a post to highlight some things I like about JJK. :)

This is in no way a complete list, so feel free to add on with your own takes too! Also, it's a long post, so I'm putting the meat of it under the cut.

The characters & their dynamics

Jjk has a huge cast, and yet every character is so unique and compelling. The reason I got into this anime (and later the manga) despite not really being into anime in general was how charming the main four characters were. Yuuji, Nobara, Megumi and Gojo immediately hooked me; I could probably watch 10 seasons of a slice of life show that's just them getting into shenanigans.

Fun interactions aside, my favourite thing about the characterisation is how everyone in this manga is allowed to have their own view on the world, especially on what it means to live a good life and die a good death. The narrative allows those views to clash without preaching about who is "correct". Characters disagree and learn from each other and their views develop organically (not necessarily in a positive direction, but always dynamically in a response to the situations they find themselves in - Yuuji's arc on how he views himself and his goals comes to mind). That stuff is really hard to write.

And it's not just the main cast either. The supporting characters are very memorable too; even minor ones have distinct personalities and clear motivations and often a backstory to explain why they are the way they are. My personal favourite background characters are Mai, Noritoshi and Tsumiki.

The worldbuilding

Can we talk about how creative the concept of curses and cursed energy is? Negative emotions accumulating into physical manifestations of things that people fear, hate, etc. is a hell of a cool idea. This is why the curse villains are my favourites in the series: from Mahito as a representation of the worst of humanity in his childish glee and sadism and cowardice to Jogo's philosophy of curses as "true beings" because they don't hide their nature and Hanami's almost sympathetic care for nature are all interesting explorations of how we view the world around us that would not be possible in a different kind of magic system. Add to that the array of creative techniques that sorcerers possess, the cursed objects, and the grade system that conveniently allows us to keep track of the danger levels of all this - you get an impressively complex magic system that still remains understandable (and fun to watch even if you don't want to keep track of the nitty-gritty and are just here for the spectacle).

Not to mention that jujutsu society is, well, a society. We get a sense of who the powerful and the oppressed are in this community, how their powers factor into that, how different characters feel about this, what they are doing to change it or on the contrary, to keep the traditions going... Every character exists in the web of a clear power structure which they interact with, influencing it and being influenced in turn. This results in a super interesting dynamic where certain characters can be enemies one moment (for example when the Kyoto students try to kill Yuuji during the exchange event on Gakuganji's, and by extension the higher-ups' orders) and allies the next (when it's time to pull together against a curse).

I'm reserving my judgement on the plot, themes and overall character arcs for now, because those things can only be really analysed once the story is complete. But even if I'll be unhappy with the ending, I'll still be very grateful for this unique world and its loveable inhabitants.

Of course, you might disagree with me on all this, and that's fine. Dropping the manga because you don't like the direction the story took is fine. Choosing to live in fanfiction delulu land is also fine. Gritting your teeth and sticking it out till the end despite disliking the plot because you're too invested to quit is also fine. Criticism and jokes are fine. The one thing that isn't fine is hating on the creator for the way they are choosing to tell their story.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Tl;dr: If you're upset about the direction JJK is taking, please try to remember why you cared so much about it in the first place. And remember that Gege is just a person sharing a story with us, and disliking someone's story is not an acceptable reason to hate on them.

[crownmemes]

The X-Files Sentences, Vol. 6

(Sentences from The X-Files (1993-2002, 2016-2018). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I see your renowned arrogance has been left quite intact."

"You can kill a man but you can't kill what he stands for... Not unless you first break his spirit."

"I'm willing to believe, but not in a lie and not in the opposite of what I can prove."

"I'm asking you to trust my judgement - to trust me."

"Use your head; it'll save your ass."

"I want you to do me a favour. It's not negotiable. Either you do it or I kill you. You understand?"

"I don't care what you do, or who you do, or who you have to grease - I need that information, and I need it now. Are we clear on that?"

"Will you please stop trying to pick a fight with me?"

"Lost time is a common symptom of close proximity to anti-gravity propulsion systems."

"Accept who you are, however repulsive that may be!"

"I'd kiss you if you weren't so damn ugly."

"Ghosts are benevolent entities. Mostly."

"Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?"

"Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you."

"Oh, that's, um... That's self-righteous and narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?"

"I keep calling it a nightmare, but how many people's nightmares come true?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I think the facts speak for themselves."

"I just wanted what everyone wants..."

"How can a frog tell a swan that he loves her?"

"I've seen how you two gaze at one another."

"Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship."

"I don't buy your hollow threats."

"I have neither the authority nor the will to allow your continued inquiry into this matter."

"You know, most people want to live forever."

"Death only looks for you once you seek its opposite."

"I could never have scripted the events that led us to this. None of us could."

"The truth is out there. Maybe you should find it for yourself."

"You need to show me that you're capable of handling the responsibility that comes with this knowledge."

"Nothing you could ever find would be accurate or credible."

"I can't tell you how wrong you are. How wrong you've always been."

"They never question it, do they? Your power and authority? When you're really such a coward."

"At some point, you just have to accept that the only way those you love are going to survive is if you give up."

"Far worse can happen... And it will."

"When did you get a waterbed?"

"You want to make that honeymoon video now?"

"If we ever go undercover again, I get to choose the names, okay?"

"Don't underestimate a woman. They can be tricksters too."

"Motive is never easy. Sometimes it occurs to one only later."

"You are making critical assumptions without any facts!"

"I wanted to love her..."

"Have you ever entertained the idea of trying to find life on this planet?"

"It's not ice cream. It's a nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicle."

[buffyspeak]

i know at the time a lot of people were very Upset at the idea magnus might apologize whether in fic or headcanon or whatever after malec’s subsequent break-up/fight/subsequent getting back together. and like. i agree that magnus doesn’t need to apologize for breaking up with alec (and yes, i do consider it a break-up) or prioritizing the survival of his people because like. he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

but the thing is. the reason (or at least the reason he gives) for breaking up with alec is not actually ‘you lied to me and now i can’t trust you’. he was obviously hurt by that and i understand fully, but it seems to me that if it were that, it was something he’d think they could get through in time. the reason he actually gives is that he’s a leader and has difficult decisions to make and doesn’t feel able to do that if he’s with alec because og how much he Loves alec. it’s not just that love is Not Enough; Love Is A Hindrance.

and again, that’s not actually the part i could maybe see him apologizing for. (though ironically, i do fully believe it’s what hurts alec the most. there’s an excellent meta i read a while back and need to dig up but. because of who he is, at this moment in time, i don’t think alec can fully understand how someone could love him, genuinely and truly, and still walk away. it’s math that doesn’t add up. he lives in extremes and he’s steadfast and if he loves someone, he assumes they can Figure It Out, whatever IT may be.) (and he unlearns this lesson a bit too hard by 3.18 unfortunately. because he has Evidence that magnus can walk away and be fine, functional. which surely means magnus can live without him in ANY context, right? right?)

i got very off-topic. anyway. he made it clear to alec that his breaking things off was less about the soul sword itself and more about the situation opening magnus’s eyes to how deeply engulfed in this war they’d become and how and he didn’t feel like he could make the decision he needed to right now with aec by his side.

and then after that, he acts cold and demeaning to alec anyway. purposefully and without provocation. i’m not saying it’s on the same level as lying about the soul sword, but the way magnus acted was! uncalled for! i get why he was doing it, to Distance himself, but that doesn’t mean it was like. great of him or even necessary. it’s easy to see how alec might be hurt by that, especially compounded with the fact that he didn’t warn alec or any of the other shadowhunters about the ward around the city that would kill them if they tried to pass through???? even though it was only valentine and jonathan they were trying to keep in??? (i know this is likely the writers dropping the ball a bit. idk. maybe he and luke agreed that luke would be the one to tell them. idk it’s just so Weird.)

anyway! none of this is like unforgivable or stuff i think magnus Needed to apologize for. especially if he didn’t then choose to get back together with alec. but he did…. which complicates it! bc relationships are complicated!! and not 1:1 on the Who Did More Wrong Scoreboard. because if you choose to be with someone after a break up, however brief, you do have more of a responsibility to take consideration of their feelings [Edit: than you would of you remain broken up.] that’s life!

it doesn’t even particularly bother me that magnus doesn’t apologize! like, i don’t think that’s something that alec needs expects or wants from him and for his part, as long as magnus forgives him and wants to be together, he’s okay-ish. (that is not to say the break-up doesn’t affect him! i really strongly believe it does and informs a lot of season 3 actions!) but there was a really big insistence at the time of this storyline airing that Any Fic Where Magnus Apologized Was Morally Wrong. and anyone who suggested alec might have somewhat of a right to be hurt, if he happened to be, was Also Very Wrong. it spoke to a bigger issue with the fandom and fandom in general and my relationship with it. a lot of this rewatch is honestly me working through that and reckoning with it

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

what does it mean to be free?

i think we were meant for just that . i think kurt cobain was right when he said people were evil but some people were just straight up basic. and how that brings others into this weird way of viewing themselves where they’re abstract and have to hide from others the fact that they’re just so abstract. it’s an awkward conversation when you try to bring that to the surface so you might as well just dodge it. i think it’s not just self-wallowing when you find that you’re quirky. but i think i’ll take upon the responsibility to make sure every basic and normal person finds their inner weird and inner abnormal because that’s what i think would make the world a bit more harmonious.

what confines humans to a mortar shell in this prison incel of a society , modern cage of iron - are concepts of money and guilt. that money is something to be afraid of losing, something to keep on gaining. survival is a rat race and fight of the fittest. i was in 7th grade in mr Gouldes science class that i absolutely abhorred with every other class except art and english but i somehow won the game of darwinsim we played as a class. i just know when we came to this earth we were nothing but babes, naked and innocent and afraid. bloodied from our mothers wombs , without social branding of numbers and personal identifications and silly little cell phones that heard us talking to curate more silly little ads. but i don’t think we were meant to live like this —in a robotic like state. and you know what i don’t give a fuck anymore? i don’t give a fuck about the structures and timelines that i ought to succeed here and ought to do the things i ought to do in those certain little ways until i breathe my final breath and just die — because i quite frankly don’t think it would matter. ill die in a rapid and tremendous yet small way and i’ll die in my honesty that i still think we were meant to be free.

free to love , free to nurture , free to do as many as the drugs we want because nature vs nurture couldn’t have prepared us for the amount of fucking bullshit that life herself had devotedly surprised us with … like a gift wrapped in soft pastel tissue paper. i think some of us are too fucked up to live sober and that’s ok. i think some of us won’t ever be able to understand that and that’s ok . i think some of us will stand in the in-between carrying the guilt and the shame from not knowing how to think about sobriety and drugs but the solace in the fact that we could die from medication because we tries to kill the pain. and im utterly convinced once again that nothing matters. and once again, i am convinced nothing matters. but love. and that that’ll be the only reason why i choose to live, for love.

though my inherent values defy this world and call it breaking the law, call it unabiding or even uncivil. just as i am a published writer n i still don’t know how to spell basic words. i write for me. i let my words be for me. i let them mean what they want for me. i will live my life FOR ME.

they tell us not to smoke, not to drink, to be drug free …. but what they don’t tell us is how good it feels to be finally relived. what they wanted from me was to be an adult and by that they meant to take the child out of me. but why take the final parts? im too “immature im too young im too naive.” i think ive heard it all to the point where i interpret it as i kant simply just Be.

. …. i want to live like the kids of nostalgia, summertime sadness and godsent blue where i take risks and impulsive decisions because i really just want to. my therapist says that not all impulsive decisions means you’re self harming. i want to be in the back seat of my moms dodge chevrolet again with my headphones and big frown wrinkling my forehead wondering if ill feel this way forever and hating it but never realizing just how easy it was to just think that was all there was to feel and even that felt like the weight of the entire world. but years go on and you realize not every feeling is like another. and freedom isn’t always living in the wild eating berries n dreaming of electric fans. i think it’s just so funny when i feel the most enlightened when i’m crying and dry heaving after these drug binges but i know i’d miss a lot of things if i werent here today and tomorrow and forever. but i don’t want to live forever, i want to live everyday ….. with the sound of my friends voices vibrating through my ears as my brain comprehends their language to words to meaning to feelings like 8 track memories

i want to make absolutely no absolute promises because i really don’t know when it’ll stand true at the end if i’m honest. i want to live fully freely and safely with no one taking that away from me. i want to be free.

[fangsofdestruction]

🍰

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||  Note: I'm lazy, so i'm not about to edit images. I'm going full text-style.

🔪Where Sesshomaru would place your muse in a Horror movie:

Options: First to die, Survives by pure luck, Tries to protect the others, Too cute to die, Assassin, Kills the Assassin.

“By all means, as a Demon, it would stand that I be the assassin in a horror movie.” From human standards, anyways. “Kikyo in any horror movie situation would opt to protect others, and would put an end to the shenanigans by killing the assassin (ie Demon). In a situation we are both in the same situation, the most optimal play would be for Kikyo to ensure the safety of others while I incapacitate the assailant.” 

-

👌 If someone said 'I'd die for you' what would Sesshomaru’s reaction be.

Options: Then perish, You will, Please don't, Cool, I'd die for you first.

“This Sesshomaru’s closest response to choose from would be ‘please don’t’ as it would be a waste to lay down her life for my own when I’d be more physically able to survive the blow by sheer will-power than she could.” It wasn’t as though her sentiment was lost on him. Far from it. 

“I’ve already lost her before, and would not like for it to happen before my very eyes in this life.” 

Would he tell her that he’d die for her? No. “This Sesshomaru is confident in his ability to outlive whatever it may be that threatens her life.” In this situation, he’s killing for her, and living to be with her. That is a true testament of his devotion, to live. 

-

📝 'Can I copy your homework?' How does Sesshomaru think they'd react?

Options: I'll help you with it!, Yeah sure, Bold of you to assume i did the homework, Lol nope, Wait we had homework????, Read 5:55PM

“This Sesshomaru and Kikyo have long since passed the ages of being assigned ‘homework’. Surely, her response would be to ignore the message in favor of believing it be a scam message.” She’d come and ask him about it later, no doubt. 

-

👀How likely is your muse to stab someone:

Options: Would never stab anyone, Would stab in retaliation, Yells 'I won't hesitate bitch' first, Would stab without warning, Would stab as a warning.

“Kikyo would stab without warning or as a warning.” Kikyo has slain countless Demons in her past and she was bound to keep the same energy in present day if necessary. 

“Should anyone bring harm to those she cares for, that knife would be thrust in retaliation.” 

Of course, Sesshomaru falls under the same exact categories. As the youth would say: ‘couple goals’.

[misc-obeyme]

unchained - chapter twenty-two

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: May Be by Yiruma word count: 2192

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: Naturally the last chapter is full of cheese. That's just how I roll. This is a wrap up chapter, so it kinda shows what most of the different characters ended up doing. Stay tuned for a spicy epilogue. Warnings: none

Gabriel sat atop a stack of especially thick papers on Azrael's desk. A new, smaller desk had been set up beside Azrael's. It had a simple single computer monitor and the bulk of it was covered in the piles of paperwork that normally sat on Azrael's desk.

Caligo had traded in his robe for a black suit, as was the expected uniform of the reapers that worked as Azrael's personal assistants. Stella had even insisted that he wear the purple and orange stick pin in his tie.

Caligo's expression was one of petulance, but beneath that Gabriel was certain they could see determination as well. He hardly ever looked at them when they came around to visit, instead keeping his focus on the pen and paper. There were two scars on his neck, visible above the collar of his shirt. Gabriel knew there was a third one that was hidden. They were the remnants of when Azrael had his claws in Caligo's throat. A reminder of what could happen should Caligo choose to step out of line again.

Despite this, Azrael seemed to be taking on the responsibility of Caligo's pain. Gabriel had thought for sure that Azrael was only going to use him as a way to get out of more paperwork. And while that was certainly happening, Azrael seemed to be actually talking to Caligo, too. Attempting to understand where things had gone wrong.

Azrael knew that everything that had happened with Caligo was his fault.

And just like Azrael, Caligo could not leave the reaper's cave. He lived here with Azrael now, his own living space set up in a cave farther back.

Gabriel came by often, to check on them. The angels had been in an uproar about this situation when they learned of it. And Gabriel had heard quite an earful about having "lost" one of their trumpets. They were told to keep a closer eye on Azrael and the situation there.

Azrael resented this, but because he liked Gabriel, he allowed it.

In fact, Azrael was easily distracted with ocean of clouds cake, which Gabriel regularly brought with them to the cave. Zebulon complained about the amount of it he had to make until he was given clearance to make it a priority. They even gave him an assistant.

Azrael was leaning back in his chair, eating a slice of one such cake, when Stella came into the cave with a fresh stack of paperwork. Abraxas followed behind her, carrying her usual clipboard.

Just as Stella was about to put the stack on Azrael's desk, he leaned forward and gestured with his fork. "My desk is already occupied, as you can see," he said. "But there's space on Caligo's."

Caligo snarled at Azrael. "Stop pushing all your work off on me, you slacker."

Stella rolled her eyes and put the stack next to the one Gabriel was sitting on. "I don't care which of you does it," she said. "As long as the work gets done. Hi, Gabriel."

"Hi, Stella," Gabriel replied with a smile.

Stella held out a hand and Abraxas put the clipboard in it.

As Stella started scribbling on the clipboard, Abraxas casually walked up to lean on Caligo's desk.

"How's all that work treating ya, reaper?" he asked with a grin.

"Fuck off," Caligo said.

"Now, now," Abraxas said. "You can't blame me for wanting to mess with you a little. Arrie is one of my closest friends."

"You can tell him my life is more hellish now than it was when I was in hell," Caligo said.

Abraxas laughed. "Perfect," he said. "I think that will mean a lot to him."

Abraxas twirled his hand lazily over the paperwork on Caligo's desk and suddenly it was illegible.

Caligo stood up abruptly. "Do you want me to kill you, demon?"

"Abraxas," Stella said, without looking up from her clipboard.

"What?" Abraxas asked with a smile and a shrug. "It's only temporary. It'll fade soon."

Stella tapped the stack of paperwork on Azrael's desk with her pen and looked at him sternly over the top of it. "Do your part," she said. "Caligo can't do everything for you. I expect this to be done by the time we come back."

"Yeah, yeah," Azrael said, waving her off with the fork.

Stella turned and walked out of the cave. Abraxas winked at a fuming Caligo before following her out.

Gabriel fluttered down off of Azrael's desk. "I'll leave you to it, then," they said. "Don't eat all that cake in one night, okay? I'll bring more when I can."

"The day you come into my cave without cake is the day I disown you," Azrael said. "Never forget, Gabriel."

Gabriel gave him a sharp salute. "You can count on me."

"Don't encourage him," Caligo said.

Gabriel laughed as they flew out of the cave and back into the bright Celestial Realm sunshine.

-

In Liviana's mansion, Arsenios was pacing while the other demons played their instruments. Chymion was on violin for this particular song and Lael's bass was steady in its heavy notes. Liviana herself was a master at the drum kit, twirling the sticks as if it was all part of the regular routine.

Arsenios should've been playing his own instrument, should've been singing. Instead he couldn't sit still.

It was the first practice after he had fully recovered from his injuries. And he wasn't able to focus at all.

Liviana stopped drumming, causing Lael and Chymion to hit wrong notes before coming to a halt themselves.

Arsenios winced.

"This is worse than the time we had to get you to admit you were in love," she said. "What's going on with you now?"

Arsenios stopped pacing and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing."

Chymion laughed, Lael just shook his head, and Liviana got up from her drum kit.

"What?" Arsenios asked.

"Nothing he says," Chymion said.

There was a knock at the front door, the massive door knockers echoing darkly through the foyer and back into the hall where they practiced.

Arsenios perked up.

"Just get out of here," Liviana said. "You were doing fine up until like ten minutes ago. I don't think this practice was a total waste."

Arsenios ran his hand through his hair again, clearly slightly on edge. "Thanks, guys," he said. "And I'm sorry."

Lael clasped his hands together. "I think it's adorable."

Arsenios decided to ignore this comment, though to his supreme annoyance, they all followed him into the foyer to open the front door.

He found you waiting on the other side, your eyes brightening when you saw him.

"Ready to go?" you asked, holding out a hand.

Arsenios returned your smile and took your outstretched hand, lacing his fingers together with yours. "Yeah, let's go."

Arsenios glanced over his shoulder and gave his bandmates a quick wave. They all waved back and even Liviana was smiling.

-

The gazebo in the garden at the Demon Lord's Castle had been set up for a classic tea party. The table held a steaming tea pot, several plates of pastries, and a stunning floral centerpiece. It was so perfectly Barbatos in every way.

The butler was serving tea to Lord Diavolo, who was chatting with Solomon beside him. Simeon and Luke were discussing the finer points of Barbatos's latest pastry recipe.

Arsenios sat beside you, his hand clasped with yours under the table. It was like he couldn't bring himself to let go of you, even now.

The Devildom sky was dripping with stars, the way it always was. The immaculately kept gardens around the gazebo were full of starlight.

You sat with your elbow on the table, your chin in your hand. You were looking at Arsenios, your eyes drawn to him at all times, a soft smile on your face.

He put down his teacup and met your eyes. You were thrilled to see the slight blush on his face when he realized you were staring at him. He smiled despite it.

"Can't keep your eyes off me, hm?" he asked, his voice quiet so only you could hear.

Your smile widened. "It's not my fault you're so pretty."

Your comment was rewarded when the blush on his face deepened. "C'mon, MC," he said, no longer able to look at you. "Quit flirting with me."

"You like it," you said.

Arsenios chuckled. "Yeah, but still."

When the tea party ended, you and Arsenios stayed behind to help Barbatos clean up. Solomon gave you a pointed look before he left, like he expected you to tell him the whole story later.

"Thank you for your assistance," Barbatos said to you as you handed him a tray of dishes. "Please leave the rest to me."

As Barbatos left the gazebo with a couple Little Ds in tow, you stood looking out at the gardens.

Arsenios took your hands.

You looked down at his skin, rubbing your thumbs across his tattoos. "Are they aching?"

It was something you asked frequently now. It helped you to judge how he was feeling. Sometimes he would tell you they felt painful and you knew that he was struggling with his feelings. Other times he would tell you it was only a dull throb, distant and far away.

Arsenios squeezed your hands. "No."

You sucked in a breath and looked into his eyes. "No? Nothing at all?"

Arsenios leaned his forehead against yours. "Nothing at all."

"What does that mean?" you asked.

Arsenios dropped your hands and put his arms around you instead. "I don't know," he said. "But maybe… maybe I'm finally healing."

You returned his embrace, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I used to sing about heartache," Arsenios sang so softly in your hear, these lines from your song. "Now all I can sing about is you."

You knew what it meant. That all the pain he'd held for so long was beginning to be replaced by his love for you. By your love for him. For so long, he'd only needed you to remind him of what his soul could be, how it could feel to sing for someone else.

"I've been thinking," Arsenios said, his voice soft.

"Oh?" you asked. "Dangerous."

"Ha ha," Arsenios said. He pulled back to look into your eyes, his expression a mixture of seriousness, curiousness, and nervousness. "MC. Do you want to make a pact with me?"

You tilted your head in confusion.

Arsenios rushed into his next words before you could answer. "It's not like having my grimoire," he said. "But it's still a bond, something that can only exist between demons and humans. I've made so many in the past and I thought I'd never make one again, but… I've never forged a pact with a human just because I wanted to. Just because I love them."

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the love and pain in his eyes. The hope. How could you ever say no?

"Arrie," you said, voice hushed. "If you're really sure…"

Arsenios sighed and closed his eyes. "I've thought about it a lot," he said. "I understand if you'd rather not, of course, but-"

"Don't be silly," you interrupted.

Arsenios opened his eyes to look at you, eyebrows raised.

"I would love to forge a pact with you," you said.

Arsenios smiled. There was a moment where the magic around you peaked, the sound of Arsenios's soul rippling through it. And then you could feel it - the pact that would connect you to him until the day you died.

You weren't surprised to find a pact mark had manifested on the back of your dominant hand. It seemed to match his already existing tattoos so perfectly.

"Where is yours?" you asked.

Arsenios shifted into demon form and there it was - directly in the center of his chest, beneath the chains of his harness and on top of the scars left by Caligo's scythe. It was intricate and edged in dark red.

Arsenios held your hands. "Trust you to show up over my heart like that," he said.

You reached out and traced it with your fingers, delighting in the way he shivered beneath your touch. It was a moment that was full of the rest of your life.

And there in the castle garden, you were reminded of other moments - the walk through the rain, the flowers at the botanical garden, the taste of crepes, the darkness of the dance hall, blood and sweat in the mist.

Somehow you knew you would always have this demon's music as your life's soundtrack. Against the odds, you had found him here, in the Devildom, waiting for you.

As the starlight sparkled through the garden, Arsenios kissed you and for a moment, you could hear the song of the world the way he could. Around you, a symphony resounded and it was playing the song of your heart, beating in time with his. A tender warmth radiated from the pact marks that connected you. As you closed your eyes and leaned into his kiss, you couldn't help but think that now you were both unchained.

masterpost | chapter twenty-one and a half | epilogue

taglist: @avalordream @lonely-north-star @expressionless-fr @featheredcrowbones @pumpkinsareamazing

@szired @bagofwetmice @ashley675901 @silverrings-n-prettythings

as always, please comment or dm me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

masterlist | Thank you for reading!