#just say you love him jesus fucking Christ

[throughparisallthroughrome]

give you my lovin

pairing: modern!anakin x reader

warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting

word count: 2.3k

description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?

A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.

You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.

You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.

The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.

Positive.

“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.

“Anakin, come on-���

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”

“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“

“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”

“Anakin, I know, but-“

“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“

“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.

“Anakin, I’m so sorry, I-“

He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.

“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.

When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.

“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.

You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.

“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He’s in love with me.”

“Y/N-“

“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.

—————————-

“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.

“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.

“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”

“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“

“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“

“That’s because he’s my best friend!”

“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”

“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.

“Y/N, I love you-“

“Not you too.”

“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”

“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”

“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.

“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

—————————-

Positive.

Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.

“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.

“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.

“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“

“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”

The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.

“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.

Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!

You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.

Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.

His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.

“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.

You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.

There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.

You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.

He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.

“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”

“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.

“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”

“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.

“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”

“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”

“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“

“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.

“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”

As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.

“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.

“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.

When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.

“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.

“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.

“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.

“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.

“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.

“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.

“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.

“Yeah.”

————————

[livesincerely]

crash and crave you

Or, the drunk Davey fic. Also on Ao3

00000

Jack’s hauling all six feet and change of Davey’s deadweight back to his car, trying to cram his lanky, drunken, noodle limbs into the passenger seat—Jesus Christ, he really is all leg, ain’t he?—when Davey kisses him.

Jack freezes. Goes perfectly still, frozen in place, as panic pierces his chest like a shot to the heart.

Because Davey is drunk, drunker than drunk, really, his mouth warm and a little sloppy against his own. He clings to Jack like a second skin, every inch of him soft and pliable, and he tastes like salt and tequila and that last round of fireball shots Racetrack ordered for the table.

He tastes like everything Jack’s ever wanted and nothing he’s allowed to have.

Davey makes low, unhappy noise in the back of his throat, then loops clumsy arms around Jack’s neck and tugs him closer: stubborn, insistent, and drunk, so fucking drunk, because Jack knows better than to think he’d ever do this sober.

But he smells so good—like his coconut conditioner and the fancy fabric softener he insists on and Davey—and his body fits so perfectly against his own and he’s kissing Jack like he wants him. Right here in the parking lot, half in and half out of the passenger seat of Jack’s car, with nothing but the buzzing street lamps overhead to notice Jack’s heart cracking into pieces with every second that passes.

Davey sighs against his lips, his fingers curling gently around the nape of his neck as he tries to deepen the kiss, and Jack knows better.

He knows he shouldn’t. Knows it’s a mistake. Knows that Davey—clever, gorgeous, wonderful Davey—probably won’t remember this in the morning, and Jack will never, not ever forget.

But he’s only human. He’s just a man, hopelessly in love with his best friend.

And for just a moment, he kisses him back.

Tilts his head and licks at the seam of Davey’s lips until they part, sucks his lip between his teeth and tangles their tongues together. Flattens his palm over the small of his back, braces his forearm against the car frame and lets himself exist, just this once, in a world where he’s allowed to have Davey somewhere besides his imagination.

Davey sinks sweetly into the kiss: eager and trusting and everything, he’s fucking everything and—

And—

Jack forces himself to pull away. Davey looks up at him with big, blue pleading eyes, his mouth wet and red and perfect, and fuck, Jack’s never gonna come back from this.

“Why’d you stop?” Davey mumbles, a swirly curl of hair falling over his forehead. His cheeks are pink from the rasp of Jack’s stubble. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Dave, I…“ 

What can he say? What can he possibly say?

He needs to apologize, needs to beg for forgiveness because Davey might be drunk off his ass but Jack absolutely is not, nursed a single beer the entire night, so there’s no excuse to fall back on. 

There’s no excuse for this.

Davey pats him on the shoulder with all the coordination of a wet mop head.

“‘S okay,” he says, almost kindly, flopping back against the passenger seat. “I don’t want to kiss you either.”

Jack’s pretty sure a baseball bat to the back of the head would’ve hurt less.

He wants to stumble away as quickly as he can, wants to see if Kath and Sarah are still out front waiting for their Uber. Maybe they’ll take Davey home instead if he asks really, really nicely and hurries away before they can ask him any questions.

Instead he sucks in a shaky breath. Carefully reaches around Davey’s waist to buckle in his seatbelt for him.

“There’s this guy,” Davey continues, hushed like he’s sharing a secret. “I wanna kiss him all— all the time. He’s handsome and funny and way, way smarter than he gives himself credit for and— and he’s just the best, you know?”

Jack does not know. Jack would rather be force-fed his own liver than know any of this.

He starts manually lifting Davey’s legs into the footwells. Tucks his feet in so they won’t block the car door.

“His name’s Jack.”

Jack stops. Freezes with his hand still wrapped around one of Davey’s ankles. Wonders, for just a second, if maybe someone did hit him over the head, actually, because—

Because the last ten minutes have been a fucking rollercoaster and he might have the world’s first genuine case of emotional whiplash, but—

His name is Jack.

…His name is Jack, right?

“Dave,” Jack starts uncertainly, but the rest of the sentence goes nowhere. Because Davey can’t possibly mean what Jack thinks he means. What he hopes beyond hope he means.

”Do you know Jack?” Davey asks, blinking up at him guilelessly.

”Uh...”

“You probably do,” he decides. “Feels like we can’t go anywhere without bumping into Jack’s neighbor’s girlfriend’s pizza delivery guy or whatever. He’s the kinda guy that knows everyone, and everyone wants to know him. But they don’t,” Davey informs him, very seriously. “Not like I do.”

“Nah,” Jack says, very softly. “No one knows ‘im like you do.”

Davey perks up. “So, you do know him!”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around.”

”Then you know,” Davey says, with what might be an attempt at a decisive nod, but comes out as more of a wobbly, bobble-head kind of motion. Jack’s so in love with him it hurts.

”Know what, Dave?”

“How wonderful he is!” Davey enthuses. 

“I dunno ‘bout all that,” Jack murmurs.

Davey frowns: a huge, exaggerated expression that makes his forehead wrinkle adorably. “What do you mean?”

”I just…” Jack shakes his head. “What makes him any different from all the other dickheads in this city?”

Pure outrage. ”He’s not a dickhead!”

Jack lifts a brow.

“Maybe he’s a little bit of a dickhead,” Davey admits. “But not, like, a total, complete, fuck-off-forever-type , dickhead. Just like a normal amount of dickheadish-ness.”

”Oh, just the normal amount, huh?” Jack wonders, and he can feel himself smiling, just absolutely cheesing from ear to ear, unable to help himself.

”Well, nobody’s perfect,” Davey says. “But sometimes I think he’s close.”

“Well, I got it on good authority that he thinks the same thing about you,” Jack says.

“He’s my best friend,” Davey continues. “He’s— meeting him was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Because, before Jack, I was just going through the motions, you know? Just keeping my head down and trying to get through each day, and it sucked, but that’s how it goes, right? And I probably would’ve kept on like that for the rest of my life, but…”

Davey pauses, fighting to piece together his thoughts through the drunken haze. Jack’s hanging, breathless, on his every word.

“Jack’s really charming,” he eventually decides. “Larger than life. He’s got this way of looking at you and seeing you—really seeing you—no matter how hard you try to hide it. And he tries to play it off like it’s nothing, says it’s just that you can’t bullshit a bullshitter or whatever, but it’s really because he cares. Cares so much about every single person in his life, pulls them into his orbit and never lets them go, and you find new ways to believe in yourself because of how much he believes in you.”

Jesus Christ. No wonder Jack’s head over heels for him.

Davey tilts his head, then finishes, devastatingly, with: “I don’t think I knew how to dream until I met Jack.”

“He didn’t know how to plant roots and stay until he met you,” Jack confesses, reaching up to carefully brush a piece of hair out of Davey’s eyes.

Davey tracks the movement until he goes cross-eyed with it, then his mouth scrunches up into a pout.

”Where is Jack?” he asks—almost a whine—completely oblivious to havoc he’s wrought. “He’s supposed to be here.”

“I’m, uh, sure he’s around here somewhere,” Jack answers as steadily as he can. It feels like his chest’s been cracked open, all the softest parts of him spilling out through his fingers, but for once, he doesn’t mind.

”Can you go get him?” Davey asks, tugging at his shirtsleeve. “I wanna— Everything’s better when Jack’s around.”

…Would it be awful if Jack kissed him again? Because he really wants to kiss him again.

“I don’t think Jack would be okay with me leavin’ you by yourself when you’re this out of it,” Jack says instead, which would be true even if he weren’t talking about himself in the third person. “How ‘bout we wait for him to meet us out here, yeah? ‘M sure he won’t be long.”

“Feels like it’s been forever,” Davey grumbles. “I miss him.”

A thought visibly occurs to him then, the alcohol in his system slowing him down enough that Jack can track each individual change in his expression. 

With huge, watery eyes, he asks, “Did he leave without me?”

“What? Of course he didn’t.”

“I thought he was gonna— He said he’d drive me home,” Davey continues, like the thought of anything else is unfathomable. “Isn’t he gonna drive me home?” 

”He’s still gonna drive ya home,” Jack assures him. “Don't worry, he’s not goin’ anywhere without’cha.”

“But—“

“Hey, this is his car, ain’t it?” Jack soothes. “So, if his car’s still here, he’s still here, right?”

Davey looks all around himself, as if only just now realizing that he’s buckled into the passenger side of Jack’s suv. 

“This is Jack’s car,” he says slowly, tracing his fingers over the center console in bewilderment. “Why do you have the keys to Jack’s car?”

Now or never.

“Davey,” he says. “Do you know who I am?”

Davey stares at him. There’s not a lick of recognition in his gaze.

“No…” he says slowly. “Are you one of Jack’s friends?”

“Would Jack pawn you off on someone you didn’t know? Wouldn't he walk you out himself? Make sure you’re safe?”

“I don’t know,” Davey says, squinting at him. “Maybe you’re really trustworthy? You’ve got a trustworthy sort of face.”

Jack laughs—he can’t help it—and Davey's expression brightens. He leans forward, reaching out to pat at Jack’s face like his smile is the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“You know, Jack has a scar right here,” he says, grabbing clumsily at his chin. “He got scared by a raccoon crawling out of a dumpster and fell on his ass. It was hilarious.”

“Hey! You promised to never bring it up again!”

“No, I promised Jack I wouldn’t…” He trails off then, frowning deeply.

“Davey. Look at me.” Jack cups a hand around his cheek, tilts his head up to meet his eyes. “Who am I?”

Davey blinks at him. Ponders for a few, long seconds. 

“…You look a lot like Jack,” he says, very hesitantly.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Jack murmurs, so fond of him he could burst with it. “That’s because I am Jack.”

Another few seconds for that information to land. Some more slow, fluttery blinks. Then Davey’s entire face lights up, more dazzling than sunlight.

“Jack!” he says, overjoyed, throwing his arms around his shoulders. “Where have you been?”

“‘M right here,” Jack says, holding him close. “I’m right here with ya, Dave.”

“I miss you when you’re gone,” Davey says, and his breath is warm against Jack’s throat, his head nestled safely in the crook of his neck. “Don’t go away any more.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack promises.

[suoulfillem]

what’s crazy to me is i remember nothing about the last season of house besides the last episode where house fakes his death to avoid going to prison so he can be with wilson in the few months he has left to live before dying of cancer and they travel off into the sunset on motorbikes together. peak romance

[ravenpureforever]

So guess who finally watched JJK

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[hauntingblue]

Oh now the villagers know..... and arlong burned the town to punish her..... for some reason

[flugame-mp3]

what do you fucking mean that's how charlie dies. THAT'S HOW CHARLIE DIES??? i mean i know the show has a penchant for killing off every character who's not a winchester brother or an angel of thursday but good god. what the fuck. charlie was such a good and enjoyable recurring character, and she had such a fandom impact that i've seen, and she's only around for THREE SEASONS?? (sidebar: it's amazing she has the presence she does for only being around for a couple episodes in the long run!) but: was this necessary? and she just dies offscreen after her skills are utilized to progress the plot of decoding the book of the damned?? oh my god. what in the actual fuck. i'm finding myself getting genuinely very upset at her death. she did not fucking deserve that. and i can absolutely see why the fan response to her death is what it is now. completely fucking unjustified and throwaway and useless.

[idlesuperstar]

- He’s the same man I knew before in Ireland, but lately...I’m...changed...by him.

[yuridovewing]

if bonefall’s hunch about the erins wanting to snipe all the fanon gay ships is true (which im inclined to believe it is) there reallyyyy is something disgusting about how theyll retcon any interaction that could be read as queer, while simultaneously being like. “creepy age gaps and incest is cute actually hehehe”

[doctorweebmd]

a really nice comment on 'nothing else fills' made me actually reread it for like, the first time in its entirety and.

wow. its... actually really good. like. i teared up multiple times and i'm the one that wrote it. why was i so mean to myself about it.

[fiendishartist2]

imagine going somewhere that you know you might not come back from. imagine leaving behind half-formed friendships and the facimile of your old ones, hand in hand with ppl who want you dead, because its the right thing to do. imagine you don't come back, just like you anticipated, except thats not entirely true. you dont survive, but some force stops you from leaving in peace; it leaves your body lifeless because it has no use for you besides the terror your mind can inflict on others, but it just won't let you die. imagine one day, you're free from the mental prison you've been trapped in. you wake up, but you're still not alive. you're cold and empty and no one looks at you the same because they can't stand to look at you. it hurts because you can't do anything but hurt people anymore. imagine you had no choice in this, except you did, didn't you? its all your fault because you were too curious, too naive, too prideful, too stupid. its all your fault, just like you always thought, and now everyone agrees with you. imagine they wish you hadn't woken up, and you can't help but agree with them. and yet, you do everything in your power to save them all, while you still have people left to save. because you're still you, even if your friends see an animated corpse in your place. you hold onto your humanity with white knuckles and gritted teeth because its all you have left of yourself. and you still lose by the end because you were set up to fail since the beginning. because you are jonathan sims, and the world has no sympathy for you

[mymarifae]

i finished the 2.2 update in one sitting and it was so much longer than i was expecting it to be and i had to go to bed to properly absorb the insanity of it all and here is a concrete summary of my thoughts:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! AAA AAA A A A A A A A A A A A AA AAAA A AA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA A AA AA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!@!@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !A AA

A

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

aaaaAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!£

aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[sunnykeysmash]

thinking about this discussion I had before FVR even came out, thinking about blends, thinking about "give me dong or give me death", about how it's both. thinking about both mac and dennis getting exactly what they want (mac's fantasy in saves the day, for mac to go away from dennis) but with a TWIST (for mac to realize there's nothing on the other side, for dennis to realize he needs mac). thinking about the pulse checking, thinking about the flatline.

thinking about my meta that I wrote before s15 even came out, about how we've been witnessing an impossible choice that's splitting dennis in two, thinking about "<3 or die" being the name of the salon in chop (and off with the head / just start over meta...), thinking about new beginnings, and meet cutes. thinking about rebirth, and baptisms.

[hauntingblue]

Choose your favourite reaction

[vulcandyke]

attention new country artists online: you cannot say you're bringing back "that good old country sound" if you're exclusively posting blake shelton and toby keith covers. good lord