#persevering faith

[lifeinspiration4all]

Why It's Worth The Pain to Persevere

Why It’s Worth The Pain to Persevere. Have you ever felt like giving up on something that you’ve been working hard on? Maybe it’s a relationship, a project at work, or a personal goal. We all have moments of doubt and frustration, but what separates successful people from those who give up is the ability to persevere through the pain. In this article, we’ll explore why it’s worth the pain to…

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

[rochenn]

Local history museum? Are you from the Baltic coast of Germany?

Might have phrased that wrong, I'm currently on the Baltic coast but not from there, just very interested in old eastern German customs ig and this corner of the country is incredibly fascinating! So I was really taken aback by how few people were in that amazing museum :/ good reminder to support the one in my hometown, I guess. Local history deserves to be known

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Pressing Toward the Goal

12 Not as though I have already received, or have already been perfected; but I am striving, so that I may also lay hold on that for which I also was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. 13 Brethren, I do not count myself as having attained; but this one thing I do-- forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth to the things that are ahead, 14 I press toward the goal for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. — Philippians 3:12-14 | A Faithful Version (AFV) A Faithful Version Bible Copyright © 2007, 2009, 2010, 2011 York Publishing Company. All rights reserved. Cross References: Matthew 5:48; Luke 9:62; Acts 9:5; Romans 8:28; Romans 8:39; Romans 11:29; 1 Corinthians 9:24; Hebrews 6:1

[jenoutof10]

I ONLY SEE DAYLIGHT DYALIVHT DAYLIGHT DAYLIGHTTTRTRRRRRTTTTTTT AND I CAN STILL SEE IT ALL... ALL YOU ALL OF ME (INTERTWINED!!!!) I ONXE BELIEVED LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITEEEEEEEEEWWEEE BUT IRS GOLDEN

[justana0kguy]

2023 SEPTEMBER 09 Saturday

"He has now reconciled in His fleshly body through His death, to present you holy, without blemish, and irreproachable before Him, provided that you persevere in the faith, firmly grounded, stable, and not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been preached to every creature under heaven."

~ Colossians 1:22-23

[flwerr-ss]

Listen To Your Prayers..

yandere!Morax

summary ; dragons are very known for their possessive behavior, especially to their treasures, but does that apply to the great Geo Archon, Morax? yes! how could he even think of resisting, the urge to possess and claim the beautiful treasure, and what could be better then the digitally dear like you, who would look up at him like he hung the stars

cw! - monster fucking, mild non//con, dub//con, possessive behavior, unhealthy mindsets, servant reader, sacrilegious themes, power dynamics

As a servant of the geo archon, you had given your whole heart, body, and soul in serving him as your dear god no matter the task, you would digitally complete your assigned task. no matter the hard labor you would still give your soul even to the littlest things. your prayers of passion and worship would be nothing but holy. Maybe one would call you obsessed, but you were more than willing to bear that title because when you performed this act of faith you couldn't help but feel like you were complete.

At least that what’s you assumed but who would have prepared yourself, as if your faith would break down in the hands of the one you would worship until your knees would ache, and the losing feeling in your hands from the tight clasp you keep while you prayed to the one who would destroy your being, and take away the last bit of purity you would have left and being faced with the task of servicing the one and only Rex Lapis, you couldn’t help the feeling of your legs wanting to collapse onto your knees, or the ways your hands watered with sweat, and the loosening of the grip you had on the bucket of water, the water in the bucket threatening to spill past the top as every movement of your feet pushed the movement of the ripples of water into waves.

You took a deep breath as you approached the entrance of gold, and intricate designs of architecture seeming very much perfect of the god himself. you looked upon the chamber door, and you noticed the guards of the entrance not once dared to make direct eye contact, and you didn’t try either but instead kept your head down and continued to be so silent. you finally lifted your head to face one of the guards who simply gave you a small nod, he seemed to notice your attire and considered you safe and not a danger, and then he opened the chamber doors, and then you continued trying to ignore how your legs felt like jelly and how your heart raced, like it was trying to rip itself from out of your ribcage

And as your feet made the soft creaks against the hard wooden tiles, the closer you got to the room where the one who you worshiped would resign, you couldn’t help that some anxiety that would blossom in the pit of your stomach, to grow and grow, and only then did you see him, you couldn’t but feel like you were going to collapse on the ground, his eyes that lingered, the eyes that are like an ocean of honey, the golden amber shining brightly like the moon in a dark sky. they were so bright, so captivating like you were losing yourself in a puddle that would descend into a deep ocean

You quickly realize you were staring when you heard a deep chuckle, you felt so embarrassed, did you already ruin your first meeting with your god? How could you atone for the sin you probably committed?

“…Don’t be too afraid dear” Even his voice sounded like honey, like a sickening sweet, one that would cause cavities. it was hard to distinguish the slightest hint of change in his tone when you called you dear, maybe due to the fact your savior is even speaking to you? if only you had listened just a bit more, and maybe persevered with your last innocence and still be oblivious to the way your god was speaking. But how you even think of questioning anything when your god was speaking to you, with his honeyed voice, that would make any woman's legs weak

You only held your breath, you were not afraid no no, far from afraid if anything your heart felt like it was jumping out from your chest to say nothing but praises of worship to him, you could never be afraid of him. It was the fear of making him disappointed, that was making you afraid. The feeling of disappointing him would destroy your well-being, how dare you fail your god? You finally looked up to face the god and answered him politely as you should as a servant of his, just for your voice to get stuck in your throat. There laid your god, laying open many silken soft pillows along with intricate silken sheets and blankets.

He wore his nightly attire, one fitting for himself. There you could see how his hair fell along his shoulders, where they would lay across his bare chest that showed from where the hanfu was opened.

“I am not afraid my lord..” you spoke, trying to preserve your voice and not sound like an utter fool, yet even then the shake in your voice did not leave, and showed very much in your face, and Morax just grinned.

Your behavior was just so lovely. Such a sweet little thing trying her best to serve him yet couldn't keep her emotions hidden, but instead showed them upon her face, really such a precious thing…

He rested his head on his fist and stared at you with some type of hungry glint, a predator looking at his prey. His grin never faltered on his face. Your face felt warm from his gaze. His eyes that glazed over your body you could practically feel his eyes roam your body, although there wasn’t much to see with your uniform.

“um..sir Rex Lapis... I’ve prepared your water” you finally spit out, the real reason you were here was to bring him water, wipe his face clean, and make him presentable, yet it was hard to keep your nervousness down when all he did was stare.

“hm..” his eyes remained on you, as his face made one of remembrance, “I guess it is that time of day...and assuming, you, my dear will be the one taking care of me?” he said with his lips curling back upwards

you quickly shook your head yes, scared that maybe your words wouldn’t come out gracefully, and you would be just a stuttering fool.

“then come dear..I wouldn’t want you to keep me waiting?” he said before making a motion to come closer, you quickly moved towards him, the water moving with your steps

you keep your gaze upon the floor, making sure that you do not once trip while making your way towards your god. you held your breath until your lungs began to feel that sting from the lack of oxygen, yet even then you didn’t allow yourself to be distracted, not when you were about to serve the one you worship.

you laid the bowl of water on the cold wooden floor by the edge of his bed before sitting upon your knees the same way you would when you would pray to him. you flatten your skirt to make yourself presentable and hold onto your dignity before looking upon your god, awaiting his words.

his honey-yellow eyes stared down, looking down at your figure that stood so patiently for his directed word, and he couldn’t be more pleased than now, he leaned forward towards you. the shifting of fabric being heard as he began to become closer and closer until you faced your god.

“Go on now..do your job,” he said, his voice sounding so dangerous yet you couldn’t refuse. you took a rag that rested in the water and squeezed the excess water from the rag with a twisting motion, your hands shook and you could feel a drop of sweat drip down your face, you took a deep breath before slowly lifting yourself from your knees, and faced morax. your hand shook as you brought your hand towards his face, fear of water droplets dripping onto him, the warm water touched his face and you slowly and gently pressed the rag against his cheek. softly you moved the rag across his soft skin. never once pushing too much, not daring to be rough on his skin.

morax closed his eyes in relief, the warmth hitting his skin, as the wet rag glided over his skin, softly cleaning any lingering dirt or sweat that might have laid on his skin. your eyes stayed focused on his skin, trying to not get any water remnants on his clothes, or anywhere, it might be inconvenient for him.

you focus deeply on trying to fulfill your duty, not noticing how his eyes have opened and stared at you, looking deeply at your reflection, his lips slightly curled upwards before he spoke.

“come closer..you can’t get your job done if you are far away..” he said. your eyes widened, Have you already failed? had you already disappointed him? you quickly listened to his words and apologized

“I apologize..my lord,” you said, trying to ignore the shake that lingered in your voice, the dryness that formed at the back of your throat, or how you almost collapsed when you heard his scared words, you truly are an imperfect being, that still needs to learn, you thought deeply before slowly allowing yourself to take more steps near him. Each footstep made a slight padder as you moved. You looked up at your god, the wet rag still in your hands, you felt your fingers start to prune up from how long you had been holding the water allowing it to seep into the pads of your fingertips.

You held your breath still awaiting his words to allow you to continue, it was hard to keep your composure when he kept looking at you, not once daring to speak.

“Closer,” and those were the first words he spoke, and although you allow yourself to do anything for him, it felt uncomfortable to move so close, to be that close seems like something that was not in your privilege, the air felt tenser like a heavy weight had pressed against your body, making this uneasiness wash over you. You swallowed down the air feeling a sting from how dry your throat had become, as you finally took another step further, and the once quiet floors now creaking against the weight of your foot, this only giving you more and more time for that feeling that was building in the pit of your stomach, for it to explode, and yet with this close of a distance you heard the same words, “closer..” and you couldn't help how your heart was trying to race out from your chest, tear thought your ribcage and bleed outwards in fear? You couldn't understand this feeling that had overtaken you.

And as you took another step, you could hear the whisperings of your conciseness telling you not to dare, but how could you refuse the words of your archon? You could feel sweat build up from the back of your neck, your skin forming bumps. Why were you so scared? Keeping your somewhat compuse you pushed yourself forward ignoring the gut feeling that was building up, and approached your savoir and faced him, your eyes worshiping him in their way. You awaited his words but there was never inserted you felt his hand quickly grip your waist, you couldn't even react in time with how quickly you were thrown to the soft bed

Your back hit the silky sheets, a slight bounce from the mattress pushing you up, you let out a sound, one of shock, maybe even fear. The sudden movement made you feel dizzy, so fast you were thrown, the sinking of the soft bed almost feeling like it was trying to swallow you whole, and lock you in the jaws of something that was covered in such softness, and as if you were looking at the beast himself. That hovered over you with such a dark gaze, not one of human one akin to a monster, and only then did you remember, he was not human, not a moral like yourself, you had walked yourself into the dragon's den, that was nothing but false promises.

“Rex-” and before you could even mutter out his name to ask what was the cause of this sudden behavior, you were faced with such force, your teeth clicking with fangs, that dug into your lips. Your eyes widened, you didn't know how to react. All the air that was in your lungs had left. You couldn't breathe. You shut your eyes tightly, as globs of wet salty tears crystallize in your eye ducts, threatening to spill. Your hand pushed desperately against his chest trying to create a gap so you could breathe, but your strength did nothing, the lack of oxygen not making it any better.

His tongue slid past your lips, trying to make it past your teeth, and into the wet crevices of your mouth, yet you couldn't allow yourself to open your mouth, it felt dirty, like as if it was crawling into your skin, and his saliva continued to pour into your mouth, the sickening feeling continued to build up, the lack of oxygen, causing your head to spin. You felt his hand crawl behind your head, smashing your lips even closer. The act was so forceful. It felt like he was trying to eat you alive, with the nicks from his sharp teeth tearing the soft tissue upon your lips, and in a final effort to get air, you opened your mouth to breathe. Just inhaling the fresh air sent you reeling, the air sending you in a euphoric state, but only for a short second because as soon as you opened your mouth, you allowed him access, and he took the invention.

His slimy tongue dug into your mouth, it warped around yours. This was far from human, the tongue being too long, too thin. And yet it pushed its way past your throat, causing you to gag. It was devouring you with his kiss, and when you opened your eyes to face the man, though wet tears lay in your waterline

As he pulled back, giving you what you desperately needed for space. You let out a cough, a string of saliva connecting him to you, and the pickle droplets of blood that dripped down from his sharp teeth, tore the thick layer of skin. You looked up at the one person you thought could do no wrong, yet the feeling of dread? Disgust? The need to wipe your mouth feels so overwhelming yet at the same time, shouldn't you just let him? He was your god, and you swore that you would serve him, with your body and soul –so shouldn't it be right to let him do as he pleases? This question ran through your mind in that short while that he gave you a break, yet that wasn't long-lived.

You let out a yelp when your leg was tugged downwards, your body sliding down the silk sheets with ease. He took the same leg he tugged at, and pushed it open, leaving you in a vulnerable position where you couldn't do anything but only watch. He gripped tightly at the fat of your calf, his nails just slightly tearing through that thin layer. His eyes glowed as he focused on the meal in front of him. He placed soft kisses along your calf. Such soft kisses that one would mistake them for a sign of affection, but it was hard to feel that way when he looked like an animal that had you in his jaws, and his mouth opened allowing for more sloppy kisses, you couldn't help the way your body wanted to desperately wanted to push always from his touch? How could you even let your dear lord do something to you?

Yet you still throw your head back to not face the person who looks at you like some type of meat, and as he moves along your leg– upwards– you couldn't help how you screwed your eyes shut. Maybe to pretend it wasn't your god that was doing this, but was he just taking what you promised you would give when you took that holy oauth, swearing to give your body and soul to him, and isn't that what he's doing? Collecting what's his. Everything made your head spin as you tried to rationalize everything, and when that sharp pain, as one of his canines pieced your skin, you couldn't help the yelp that slipped past your lips, the stinging pain, hitting you instantly your eyes wide open, your body instantly trying to move away from the one causing you pain.

Yet in the end you couldn't move, not with his bruising grip that kept you glued down, and even slight movement of trying to escape only caused more uncountable pain. Making your eyes water, and as the warm salt tears pile up in your waterline, about to drip over the edge. You didn't know how to react, was this how it was supposed to be? For you to be pinned to the bed, with the one you serve between your legs looking at you as if you were the person to be ravaged, eaten alive...

and you just closed your eyes, keeping them closed as his hand slid further up your legs, becoming dangerously close to the space between your thighs. your teeth dug into the skin of your lip as his mouth lingered around your legs, you could feel the strain in the muscles of your thighs from being hoisted up there for so long, the sting of pain only intensified when he brought it more, allowing more room for him, as his hot mouth moved upwards, to your inner thigh, the fabric that once covered it not discarded and, now only having the flimsy fabric of your panties to cover yourself.

and with how he kissed and sucked into your skin, it would be a matter of minutes before even that fabric would become useless

you could feel such sharp canines, that dragged along your sensitive skin, a sharp inhale through your nose. It was hard to focus, and with your eyes closed to only see darkness, leaving you vulnerable to him.

your eyes widened, a sound that you couldn’t know leaving your lips, his long tapped tongue licked upon the thin fabric, you could hear him let out a groan as if he tasted the honey from the hive itself

your hands darted to the sheets, to grip something to ground yourself, as his tongue hit that sensitive nub, sending shocks of pleasure down your spine, you let it a whine. your lips trembled as you felt his hand reach up your thighs until it reached your panties, his sharp talons ripping off the wetten fabric, leaving you fully exposed

you wanted to rip yourself from this whole situation, it was hard to formulate thoughts or even try to understand how you felt about this.

your mouth opened o, as he flatted his tongue along your slit, leaving a mess of his saliva on your core. your hands gripped tightly on the sheets until your knuckles were turning white. he eyes stared at your face, analyzing your every facial expression, soaking in your pleasure.

his hands gripped the fat of your thighs prying them open, you let out a hiss at the sting of adductor brevis, stretched and strained, allowing him to nuzzle himself deeper in your core

he ran his tapped tongue, lapping at your cunt, before the tip of his tongue tapped lightly at your clit, allowing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips, with this reaction he connected his lips around your sensitive nerves. It was so stimulating for you who never once dared touch yourself because you never saw the need.

It was a painful sensation of pleasure, too much for your body to handle, your hands darted to his head, not even realizing the consequences of your actions, and desperately tried to pull at something, to get him to stop sucking. and the first thing you grabbed was something rough, you looked down, almost fully regretting it as you stared at his lust-filled graze. the pronounced horns that your hands had grabbed, the slight glow that radiated off them, and along his hands that dented into your skin. you could see the scales that showed along his face, showing his true form, something not human.

You truly couldn't understand this, and as much as you wished you could, you couldn't not when his mouth was lapping are your core, and the sounds that left your mouth in the shapes of his name, the sweet harmony of your sweet sounds, that left your lips. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You sweeten the feeling of his tongue devouring a place even if you did not dare, you could feel him flatten his tongue before licking down your slit, trailing down until getting to the source of your sweet fluids.

You heard him let out a deep groan that sent vibrations straight to your cunt. You let out a pathic whine. Feeling delirious as this new feeling bubbled up in your stomach, making your toes curl at every harsh lick that he pridefully devoured

claiming what was rightfully his. you couldn’t help the desire that tore along your stomach, wanting to explode. a feeling you've never once felt and as your mind went more and more blank, the black and white fuzziness that clouded your vision along the salty tears. you felt yourself tip and tip until fully tipping into a state of pure euphoric relief, even as the shame lingered.

“ m-my lord-“ you tried to whine out, to give a response from tattered lips, that stuck together from the dry saliva that dripped from your mouth

morax simply hummed, lifting his mouth from your dripping core, in favor of taking his time, creating light red marks that would bloom into deeper colors of purple along the skin nearest to your core. your scent still lingering in his mouth as he closed his eyes and sucked diligently into the soft fat.

and as you stared at your lord you couldn’t help but be reminded that he was no human. He was something you could never imagine. the horns that adorn his head or the rough scales that run along his skin, being only a reminder that you were messing with a god, something you, human could never understand.

and even though you believed you understood that it still didn’t compare to reality. the reality of his mouth that ran along your skin, the sharp teeth that could at any time tear into your skin and destroy your very essence.

your eyes went wide when you felt that warm slimy flesh lick at your now very sensitive nub. you let out a gasp, you were knocked out of your thoughts and faced with a deprived beast ready for his second serving.

“Pl-please, i..” and you couldn't bring yourself to say no? You couldn't even think that you felt your whole body shake and trimmer in an overwhelming sensation of something you've never experienced, being caused by the holy mouth of someone you devote your life to. You felt yourself melt deeper into this silken padded mattress as your senses soon became jumbled up into a puddle of pure and utter rapturous pleasure. And as it sent just sharp electric shocks into every single limp you could feel.

The incohesive babbles of semi-words that would break apart in your mind, no string of thoughts could fully form, the constant strain and sting on your poor nub, soaking hole, leaving no room for anything. Only his actions, as he pushed your legs further up allowed more space for his board fame. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his thinly tapped tongue pushed into your hole. Your god, the one you worshipped was the one to define you, and as if that same feeling of overwhelming ecstasy boiled up again. You couldn't control the pathic whimper that left your lips. And as he drank whatever liquids of sweet nectar from your once pure hole, something once untouched..

The rough slimy texture of his tongue continued to lap at your swollen nub. Overstimulation setting in as you let our whines, at the stinging pain that shoots up your body , right up your spine. You could feel salty globs of tears continuing to form in your water line. And as you desperately tried to hold onto your last bit of sanity, you nails digging into the sheets, the pillows, blankets. Anything to hold onto, to keep you feeling grounded as you mind flooded into the clouds of ecstasy.

And after what seemed like eternity, his mouth finally detached from your wet core, you could hear the pants of air from him as he stared at you, and then back at your cunt. He grazed, staring at the meal that lay in front of him. As if a cloud of please had clouded his eyes as he moved just slightly away. In favor of removing his nightly attire, leaving him bare for your eyes.

Your eyes scanned his body, the more you looked the more you couldn't help but awe. The intricate patterns of an archon created his arms, and his face flushed, and wet from you our liquids, and adorn with those scales that limited a beautiful golden color, yet the further your eyes trailed the more you couldn't keep back the slight fear of pain that might accompany you.

2 cocks laid almost flat on his navels, that also adorung that same golden light that gave that slight gold. One just slightly bigger than the other. Pre cum dripped from the darker colored tips, yet the most compelling part was just the sheer size of each of them. One of them looking bigger than your own forearm, although you could only estimate in the clouded judgment. It only happened when he gripped onto your ankles and yanked you down to him. You let out a wabaton gasp only then did you fully realize what was really going into you.

Laying against your unclothed cunt was the slightly smaller one, you could feel the heat radiate off, and even in your state of uncentioness? Fear? You could feel the slightest flick of excitement. Was it due to you wanting to please your lord? Or was it one of your selfish lustful reasons? You didn't know not when he was leaning into your ear. The hot breath hits the shell of your ear.

“I can't promise I will be gentle, dear..” morax said, the lack of patience showing more and more, as his hips rocked just slightly against yours. One of his cocks sliding up and down through your folds.

The tip of his cock pushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn't help but shut your eyes at the stimulation, that was making your toes curl.

Morax observed your facial expression enjoying the look of pleasure, leaning into your lip. He presses his against yours, missing and craving the taste of them again. And in a state of pleasure you couldn't help but just melt into the kiss, ignore the how his hand trailed down where you guys would soon be connected at.

He slowly guided his way into your cunt. Your eyes went wide at the sudden stinging sensation. And the further he pushed into your tight hole, the more and more the painful feeling built. As you tried desperately to pull away from the kiss, to voice that it hurts. He simply kissed harder.

His sharp teeth dug into your lips, skin breaking until that metallic taste hit not only your tongue but his too. Which he gladly lapped at, as if he was a sugary drink.

He continued to push his cock further into your sweet tasting flower. And the farther he was in the more you could feel your cunt drool in hope to ease the pain, that only seemed to intensify. You couldn't help the tears that fall from your eyes. You desperately need to breathe.

Everything was too much. It hurt. You were being stretched further than you could even compheand. You whined inro his mouth pathicly, maybe in hope he would stop yet he didnt. He simply pushed his tongue inro your mouth.

As you tried to breathe through your nose, and the constant pain until he finally stopped pushing in. he pulled away in favor of looking at the connection point of you two. His eyes had these unfocuses as if he was another sense of existence. His eyes trailed from your cunt to your tear-soaked face, which was flushed red. He couldn't help the slightest grin he had.

You looked up at him trying to contain some air that you had lost. Yet when you swear that grin, you feel something tighten in your pit. He heard him let a groan from your walls tightening. He looked downwards looking where you and him were conjoined. His eyes went wide and feeling with this primal instict,

Pulling out leaving just his tip in, before slamming it back in. The pain and pleasure shoot up through your body like an electrical shock. The pain became more and more painful the more he slammed his hips against yours.

You were rendered utterly useless in this moment, your nails digging into his back. You could guess how that might leave marks on his porcelain body yet at this moment your mind was to puddle with the strongest sensitivtion of pain and the bubbling feeling that you had become acquainted with less than an hour ago.

And through all this, as your eyes rolled as far as they could, as your toes curled so tightly that they would turn white. You couldn't help but ask yourself had this been what you were destined for? Even as the pleasure soon overtook that painfull stinging pain

Had this been who you've been praying to?

Had this been your prayers answered?

[ a/n: sorry for the long wait! i’m pretty sure there quite a few spelling errors near the end, i was kinda rushing because i was already over 10 pages longggg so sorry for the ending :(]



[simonsrosebud]

I have such a huge space in my heart for Nicky Hemmick.

No, his actions of kissing neil are not excusable. I know that, but his past strikes a cord that is heartbreaking.

Nicky Hemmick, who was shunned and cast out by his parents for who he loves. Who was sent to a gay conversion camp, most likely forced to be with women, and then pretended to be straight and date women just to appease his parents. Who tried so hard to reclaim his parent’s love and was so lost and lonely and empty that he wanted to end it all. Who escaped to Germany just to get away and finally found love and acceptance.

Who gave up the life he worked so hard for to raise his two vulnerable cousins at nineteen years old. Who, instead of going back to Germany, joined them for 5 years in college just so they’d go in the first place.

Nicky, who despite his faults and nosiness, treats Neil like family and tries so hard to get in with the upperclassmen. Teaches his cousins German. Worked two jobs to stay afloat. Bought them a home. Was mugged outside a club. Stands up for the twins despite how they’ve treated him in return. Has faith that his mother may love him if he just shows her how well he’s doing. Who lets Aaron get away with his mean comments and puts up with Andrew’s violence when he could easily drop out and go back to Germany if he really wanted.

Some people see Nicky’s background as lesser when comparing the Foxes, but Nicky was drug through hell and then willingly went back for the twins. Nicky has persevered.

[zhongrin]

𒆙 deus auri

part 4/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

𖧷 tags ┈ gn!reader, teeth-rotting fluff

𖧷 a/n ┈ merry christmas yall! i hope you're being surrounded by your loved ones today (be it physically or online). consider this a christmas gift from me to you <3

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓃early everyone in your neighborhood knew of your secret admirer, yet no one knew of their actual identity.

they had their speculations, of course. the elders just love to tell you all about their theories whenever they spot you with yet another fresh yellow hibiscus on your person. perhaps it was the young man three houses away, since mrs. feng saw him stealing glances at you? oh, or maybe it was the lady who moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, since the timing matched with when you started receiving the flowers? no, no, it must have been the blacksmith’s child who was just the perfect age for marriage, or the widowed greengrocer who kept giving you discounts, or—

entertaining the musings of the older folks who had nothing better to do than gossip was not your specialty, so a forced laugh and an excuse later, you continued on your merry way, shaking your head with a breath escaping your lips as your fingers brushed the soft petal.

you used to keep the flowers in a vase or press them between book pages to dry them out, hoping to prolong their life, but these days you prefer to have it on you as you go about your day. sometimes you’d wear it on your hair, tucked behind your ear, or weaved around your wrist, and other times you’d slip it on your clothes, going as far as planning your attire around the bright yellow petals. and when the day ended, the bloom would have wilted, but you already knew that the next day, another fresh flower would appear right in front of your doorstep.

truly, a mystery.

as many moons passed, you became curiouser and curiouser. such dedication, such resourcefulness. just who was this silhouette in the dark you could not seem to shine a light upon? as silly as it sounded, you were slowly toeing the lines of curiosity and perhaps even affection, as stupid as that sounded.

there was a florist you would always pass by whenever you returned home from a day of toiling at work. a selection of flowers, though none matched the flower you tucked onto your belt loop for the day, lined the forefront of the little stall, its owner giving you a friendly smile as you approached.

you started placing marigolds on your doorstep before going to bed.

what made you choose the specific flower? you weren’t too sure yourself. perhaps the colors and rounded shape of its floral head that day reminded you of mora, and it was an attempt at darkly humoring the stranger who had been spending their mora to buy all those hibiscus blooms. perhaps you just found them pretty and silently hoped your secret admirer would, too.

the marigold always disappeared the next morning, replaced with your faithful, bright yellow-petaled friend.

the ritual continued on, and just as tireless as your admirer was, you made sure to be just as persevering. not a day passed without the exchange of blossoms - not when it rained, nor when the holidays rolled by.

“mama, look! it’s the adepti!!” a little girl raced past you, dragging her laughing mother by the hand, jumping and trying to seek past the crowd of people flooding the main street at the end of your little neighborhood. the ginkgo leaves were falling, maidenhair petals matching the bright color of the hibiscus pinned onto your hair billowing past as you too, stepped towards the crowd.

they did this parade every single year, both to celebrate the end of a prosperous twelve-month period and to honor the very birthday of the geo archon, and every single time you thought you would ever get bored of it. a magnificent procession along the main streets, a week-long festival before and after, the various stalls opening along the streets, the hustle and bustle of the harbor amplified, joyfulness and the trees seemingly painting the air gold.

“ah, the demon conqueror isn’t joining us this year?”

“he’s the elusive sort, after all.”

”but the great illuminated beasts are almost all here!”

it was hard to make out the words of the people around you as the crowd bustled in excitement and the processional march reverberated so loudly in your ears, so you decided to step and slip around the gaps of enamored people when you spotted your chance.

eventually, your eyes finally fell upon the group as they made their way through the stone paved path. the proud magnificent beasts were always a sight to behold; otherworldly and also imposing. golden and red, intricately sewn flags bearing the symbol of geo along with the harbor itself waved in the air as the sounds of the drums seemed to make the ground shake. the smell of incense filled your lungs, your eyes squinting as the sunlight caught the cor lapis ornaments affixed onto nearly every object and clothing of the congregation. and yet it was said that the celebration march used to be much grander, with dancers and flower petals and scriptures detailing the founding of liyue and the tales of the archon war being read out loud - but your lord himself insisted for it to be downplayed after several hundred years.

and speaking of the devil…

“may rex lapis live and reign for ten thousand years!”

“ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years!”

this year too, the deity sat upon the resplendent sedan chair carried by four mortals. this year too, he looked as regal in his dark garment patterned with glowing golden threads and - in your opinion - as bored out of his mind. this year too, a stem of-

-wait.

he didn’t have those last year.

marigold eyes glanced toward your direction, and you thought you had induced yourself into having a fever dream when your gazes met. but no, the way his amber eyes slightly widened and the way he suddenly shifted, back straightening from its former slouch and the colors dusting his cheek were very much real. while your lips parted as you tried to process the information, his own lips stretched into a gentle smile; gloved fingers plucking the flower from its pinned place on his outer robe, before placing a fleeting kiss on the one-stemmed tagetes’ amber corolla.

and as the crowds moved, eager to follow your lord, you let yourself be carried away by the sea of eager citizens, your heart doing double flips inside your chest as you tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.

…….. you think your ‘secret admirer’ might be the very god of your nation.

𖧷 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭ ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[flawdchaos]

Cheering Logan up after the Miami GP please

my heart broke for logan during the miami gp :( a dnf during his home race is gut wrenching. he deserves a big hug and to catch a break.

“Log?” you spoke, hand raised to knock against his drivers room door. “Logan, honey?” The moment you saw the contact from Magnussen your heart dropped to your stomach. This was supposed to be his race. Given the rough go at the season he had so far you had faith things would be different this go around.

All you could do was shift your weight between feet as you continued to wait for him to open the door. When you finally heard the rustling on the other side, the only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart. The door cracked opened slowly and a mop of blonde, disheveled hair was the first thing you saw. Sniffles filling the air. You quickly pushed the door open and closed it behind you, the last thing either of you needed was cameras and reporters in your face.

Logan sat on the edge of the small couch with his hands tangled and pulling in his hair. “I’m a fucking idiot. So fucking dumb. I should have seen him, I should have defend-” Before he could continue you were kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his wrists to pull them away from his head.

“Log, look at me for a second.” his eyes glued to the table in front of him. “Logan.” you said firmly, pulling his hands down to rest between your bodies.

“Do not beat yourself up. You have been fucked over one too many times this season and yet, you have persevered and worked your ass off. You are talented and above all, you make me proud. No matter where you are on that damn grid.”

He finally pulled his eyes away and connected his gaze with yours. “Do I really make you proud?” As soon as the words left his mouth you were moving to sit beside him, pulling him into your body to hug him. “Yes, yes you do. So proud.” you murmured, raking your hand through his hair.

“I love it here.” he spoke, words hard to decipher because his face was smushed against your body.

“In Miami? This weather is pretty great, not as rainy and warm. I could get a tan and -” It was his turn to cut you off. “Not Miami, I love being in your arms.”

You knew that he would be beating himself up for days, no matter the circumstance, but you also knew that all you could was hold him and talk him down from the self sabotage.

[2soulscollide]

extensive list of character traits

hello hello, it's me! here's an extensive list of traits. note: if you're developing a character, check out this free workbook which has a complete character sheet :D

good character traits:

understanding

courageous

tenacious

resourceful

confident

diligent

persevering

empathetic

caring

respectful

patient

dependable

trustworthy

adaptable

charismatic

creative

innovative

encouraging

gracious

forgiving

generous

inquisitive

knowledgeable

modest

noble

optimistic

passionate

practical

principled

reliable

self-disciplined

selfless

strong-willed

thoughtful

wise

assertive

bold

decisive

dignified

disciplined

enthusiastic

faithful

friendly

humorous

imaginative

insightful

intuitive

open-minded

persuasive

practical

proactive

rational

self-confident

self-sufficient

sensible

sympathetic

tactful

team player

trusting

unassuming

visionary

well-rounded

bad character traits:

self-centered

rude

disrespectful

impulsive

greedy

arrogant

dishonest

manipulative

lazy

stubborn

moody

pessimistic

judgmental

aggressive

reckless

inconsiderate

paranoid

insecure

materialistic

irrational

vengeful

deceitful

disloyal

boastful

closed-minded

condescending

impatient

intolerant

narcissistic

obsessive

possessive

short-tempered

sneaky

suspicious

unpredictable

unreliable

wasteful

weak-willed

withdrawn

agonizing

cynical

possessive

aloof

intimidating

sadistic

bitter

passive-aggressive

evasive

procrastinating

irritable

dismissive

disrespectful

confrontational

overbearing

domineering

pompous

biased

inflexible

impetuous

misanthropic

overcritical

arrogant

hope this was useful! have a nice day <3

[p1utofairy]

PICK A CARD: BARBIE edition.

★ which one of your manifestations is coming towards you?

NOTE: take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. i feel like people are in need of some positivity and encouragement so here you go! 🍬

pile one.

hi pile 1 🌞 wow i feel like you have a very bright personality! it's so potent and beautiful. you can light up any room you walk into, and once you start seeing your beauty for what it truly is, that's when you'll really become a magnet for the things you desire. i feel like you've come out of some deep situations that left you confused or wondering about your true purpose in this lifetime – but don’t let anyone or any situation ever dim your light or take away your power. your soul purpose is really special and i think you’ve been looking for clarity or some sort of answer/solution to this lack that you’re feeling in your soul. you will definitely receive a message and/or an answer to what you’ve been seeking to find. i see this manifestation being a dream come true, pile 1.

you’ve put the work in and now you’re about to reap the benefits of your labor. this could be a new job, career path/major, business opportunity or an increase in your finances. your spirit guides want you to put yourself out there and say YES to whatever this message might be. you already have the motivation and desire for it, so it just requires you to take action and be confident in your choices in order to receive it. you might downplay yourself a lot or make self-deprecating jokes that ultimately put you in a lack mindset. i’m hearing “psh…yeah right. i doubt something as extravagant and nice as that would happen to me.” but why? whose to say what tomorrow will bring? your guides want you to lean more into your optimism and have faith in yourself, and understand that you truly deserve all the great things that are about to unfold in your life.

you know how to make light of situations, so use that to your advantage. i feel like you have a great sense of humor lol but be kinder to yourself okay? it can be really tough when life starts throwing curve balls at you, but it’s what you choose to make of it. as phil dunphy from ‘modern family’ said, “if life gives you lemonade - make lemons and life will be all like whaaaaat?!” so go out there and show the world what you’re made of!

pile two.

heyyy pile 2! i feel like you're coming out of a period of grief or a loss of some sort – a powerful transformation. i feel like this is more about letting go of a toxic mindset and freeing yourself from negative energy/situations rather than on a physical level. for some of you, a loved one could have recently passed or a connection you had with someone ended but i think it’s more so that you’re in a period of transition and starting to accept things for what they truly are. you’re no longer letting anything or anyone hold you back. you’re gaining momentum in your life path, and your spirit guides are so very proud of you!

they see how much it’s taken you to get to this point in your journey. it’s taken a lot of patience and discipline, but you’ve persevered and made it through - and for that you will be rewarded. i feel like you’ve been trying to manifest a change of some sort…whether that be physically moving out, going on a vacation/traveling, going out more or just a genuine change in your everyday life; i’m happy to say that you will be receiving that! you’ve been slowly but surely focusing on yourself and nourishing your mind, body and soul. you’re now starting to realize that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to…you might be seeing a lot of signs/confirmations like angel numbers, repeating patterns, symbols or animals.

you’re starting to realize that surrender is key - not everything can be in our control and sometimes that’s a tough pill to swallow but that’s just the way of life and it usually works out in our best interest in the long run. a flow of abundance is on its way to you. you can manifest anything you want in this lifetime, it just comes down to your mindset and the power of your words. continue to be at ease and let your actions speak for itself, you don’t have to prove or explain yourself to anyone. you’re on the brink of success and it’s coming in fast, just make sure to always stay grounded and remember where you came from. heavy is the head that wears the crown; you know what you’re capable of and what you deserve so don’t let the pressure and weight of life hold you down. keep moving forward, it’s all going to work out in your favor.

pile three.

pile 333 i just wanna give y'all a hug 🥲 y'all are really going through it right now. heavy water sign energy. do y'all have any pisces, cancer or scorpio in your chart? i get the sense of someone laying in bed…just staring at the ceiling like why? why me? you're trying to process a lot of intense emotions and center your energy, but it's taking a toll on you right now. you feel very alone and and unsure if you can talk to anyone about this. not even trying to be funny, but yeah it's giving existential crisis barbie.

if you've seen the ‘barbie’ movie, you know the scene where barbie just gives up and lays down flat on the ground and they're like "she's not dead. she's just having an existential crisis." 😃 real AF but no no no you gotta quiet down your mind. you can 100% feel and process your way through these emotions, but don't let them take control over you and make you feel like you’re doing something wrong or like you’re not doing enough – release that negative energy! i feel like your mind is going a mile per minute, and you can’t even form a rational thought without getting upset. in terms of your manifestation, i feel like you’re really craving love right now. you’re ready to go out there and bag the person of your dreams, but your guides just want you to first take this time to quiet your mind and trust in them & second believe that love is going to find you no matter what. don’t force it…don’t question it — believe it.

you could’ve had a couple of instances where you thought it was the real thing, but it turned out to be really disappointing and not what you wanted. that’s your spirit guides telling you that you can’t force it. this new relationship will find you naturally and it will be everything you’ve ever dreamed of plus more! this person will not only be your lover, but they’ll be your best friend and your confidant. you will feel absolutely liberated and comfortable to take on any challenge with them by your side. however, you need to let this wave of emotions pass and understand that what’s meant for you will NEVER pass you. you got this my pile 333's 🦋 it will be in reach soon.

[astro-vogue]

© Numerologica 2024 all rights reserved, this article is protected by copyright norms, do not copy, repost, rewrite in any way or you'll be sued for copyright infringement.

● They're 12 and each of them is characterized by 3 things: element, quadruplicity & polarity. They represent one of the basic components of a chart along with Houses, Planets, Angles, Degrees and so on...

⎯ They can be described as 12 different characters in a movie, and embody specific traits and characteristics as well as different ways of seeing and interpreting reality.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

⚠︎ dates highlighted may vary yearly according to planet's transits

♈︎ ARIES (Fire, Cardinal, Yang) ⟶ March 21- April 19

active, bold, independent, courageous, energetic, purposeful, lively, athletic, enthusiastic, restless, competitive, ambitious, goal-oriented, headstrong, assertive, commanding, dominant, always striving for the better, individualistic, impulsive, adventurous, "I'm the first/number one/want to be the first", passionate, motivated, confident, determined, a leader, straightforward, straight to the point, impatient

♉︎ TAURUS (Earth, Fixed, Yin) ⟶ April 20 - May 20

calm, reliable, trustworthy, charming, slow, comfort-oriented, patient, persevering, relaxed, serene, comforting, pleasure-oriented, sensual, material, deeply physical, hard working, focused, resilient, silent strength, romantic, security-oriented, loyal, steadfast, consistent, stubborn, obstinate, devoted, faithful, dislikes change, grounded, money-oriented, dependable, solid, realistic, sensitive

♊︎ GEMINI (Air, Mutable, Yang) ⟶ May 21 - June 20

flexible, mental, scattered, rational, multifaceted, multitasking, playful, intellectual, curious, constantly juggling with new ideas, friendly, have a huge variety of interests, quick-witted, funny, seeking change, short term memory, forgetful, distracted, inquisitive, communicative, social, natural chameleons, fast-moving, adaptable, charming, cheerleading, having fun, seeking dopamine, chatters

♋︎ CANCER (Water, Cardinal, Yin) ⟶ June 21 - July 22

sensitive, intuitive, nurturing, introspective, caring, soothing, can read a room's energy, gentle, compassionate, self-protective, may hard to get to know, defensive, motherly/fatherly behavior, loyal, devoted, empathetic, dreamy, moody, imaginative, quiet, passive-aggressive, family/home oriented, receptive, guided by emotions, may seem aloof, impressionable, defensive

♌︎ LEO (Fire, Fixed, Yang) ⟶ July 23 - August 22

charismatic, bold, independent, courageous, playful, confident, determined, ambitious, individualistic, self-centred, seeking recognition, strong, willful, theatrical, extroverted, loves the spotlight, leaders, commanding, seeking luxury/pleasure, full of life, stable, loyal, dedicated, consistent, passionate, "I put my heart into everything I do", prideful, exuberant, noble, fierce, entertaining, headstrong, affectionate

♍︎ VIRGO (Earth, Mutable, Yin) ⟶ August 23 - September 22

organized, dependable, practical, grounded, intellectual, logical, structured, systematic, perfectionist, nervous, detail-oriented, analytical, meticulous, helpful, supportive, good at problem-solving, realistic, hard-working, committed, modest, nurturing, focused, efficient, easily worried, can see things from a lot of different perspectives, high standards, critical, judgemental, selfless, natural healers

♎︎ LIBRA (Air, Cardinal, Yang) ⟶ September 23 - October 22

diplomatic, alluring, sensual, balanced, harmony-seeking, aesthetic-oriented, loving, agreeable, intellectual, social, relaxed, likes attention and spotlight, people oriented, potentially people pleaser, seeing multiple sides at the same time, indecisive, charming, romantic, creative, fair, communicative, both rational and sensitive, good at reading rooms and adapting in them, empathetic, compassionate, moral

♏︎ SCORPIO (Water, Fixed, Yin) ⟶ October 23 - November 21

passionate, strong, sensitive, intense, deep feeler/thinker, stubborn, powerful/power-oriented, intuitive, silent, introverted, calculative, determined, ambitious, hard-working, devoted, obsessed, seductive, mysterious, magnetic, enigmatic, passionate, potentially big egos, intimacy-seeking, hard to get to know, decisive, fierce, protective, jealous, persistent, "I can't let go", confident, controlling

♐︎ SAGITTARIUS (Fire, Mutable, Yang) ⟶ November 22 - December 21

adventurous, pioneering, seeking new things, always planning something new, curious, enthusiastic, bold, passionate, philosophical, dynamic, passionate, adaptable, constant quest for knowledge, desire for change, freedom-seeking, wanderlust, funny, entertaining, honest, never taking anything too seriously, infectious laughter, magnetic "I take no bullsh*t" attitude, possibly arrogant.

♑︎ CAPRICORN (Earth, Cardinal, Yin) ⟶ December 22 - January 19

serious, stable, grounded, responsible, practical, hard-working, productive, efficient, authoritative, striving to control everything, good administrative skills, structured, analytical, organized, introverted, resilient, full of stamina, ambitious, high standards, perceived as cold/distant or unemotional, selective, honest, straightforward, cool under pressure, inspiring, tireless, steadfast

♒︎ AQUARIUS (Air, Fixed, Yang) ⟶ January 20 - February 18

inventive, out of the box thinking, intellectual, unstable, "I live by my own terms", progressive, rebellious, curious, social, unusual, independent, innovative, humanitarian, rational, perceived as distant/unreliable, detached, philosophical, seeing the big picture, focused on the collective, unafraid to challenge morals and authority, eccentric, nonconformist, obstinate in its ideas, indomitable

♓︎ PISCES (Water, Mutable, Yin) ⟶ February 19 - March 20

sensitive, empathetic, emotional, compassionate, spiritual, intuitive, warm, mystical, creative, imaginative, fantasy-oriented, possibly delusional, psychic, "I'm in the clouds", escapists, impressionable, humourous, adaptable, kind, gentle, "I see things as they could be", easily worried or paranoid, struggles with criticism, can have a victim-complex, spontaneous, emotionally intelligent, great listener

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

MASTERLIST

© Numerologica 2024 all rights reserved, this article is protected by copyright norms, do not copy, repost, rewrite in any way or you'll be sued for copyright infringement.

[toastsrambles]

louis and moran as foil characters drive me insane.

from the outside, moran had everything- a good family, good education, and a respectable military career. and louis had nothing- a sick orphan on the streets of london with no future. and they ended up in the same place- at william’s side.

and yet, moran was driven to join william out of desperation, while louis chose to be with william out of love.

moran had just faced the biggest betrayal of his life, lost all of his men and his hand, and was legally dead. he had nowhere to go, and in a complete absence of hope, found his through william. william became everything to him.

louis, meanwhile, was given a good life for the first time. he had a roof over his head, steady food. and healthcare. and yet, because of his love for his william, he burned it all down for him. for the first time in his life, he had hope, but he chose to put his faith in his brother.

it’s the difference between desperate devotion and a loving choice.

and i think that’s why, ultimately, louis persevered after the final problem while moran couldn’t.

moran had made william his purpose for existing, to the point where he’d help william kill himself if only he asked. despite his carefree attitude, he was loyal to the end. and his devotion outlived william, or at least he thought it did. he was completely free for the first time in years, and he still chose william.

he chose devotion, and never truly lived for three years.

louis, however, loved his brother moreso than he was devoted to him, and he decided that having william alive was more important than being loyal to him. it didn’t work in the end, though, despite his best efforts. his love outlived william, or so he thought. he was completely free for the first time in years, and he still chose william.

he chose love, and forced himself to keep living for three years.

moran and louis were dealt opposite hands in life, but made all the same choices. they ended up in completely different places for exactly the same reasons.

they are both opposites and parallels. exactly alike and nothing alike.

i just think it’s neat. is all.

[deuteragonists-mismatched-socks]

A Break In Routine - Shane x Reader (Stardew Valley)

Another Shane SDV fic from my drafts with a couple strange gaps in it.

Warnings: mentions of recovering from alcoholism, being imperfect, guilt and self-loathing to a certain extent. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1.4k

Shane wasn't stupid. He knew you knew that. He noticed that, the closer you got, especially after that night on the cliff, you changed. Not so much in the way you dealt with him—you were kind and persevering as ever.

You stopped brewing. He had been out to the farm before, you had like ten kegs and an evergreen crop of hops and wheat to fuel them. And Shane wasn't stupid—he'd almost gone broke from buying the stuff before, so he knew it was lucrative. You'd have to be crazy to give that up. Farmers had it rough, especially ones that worked as hard as you. Having such an easy source of passive income should've been a no-brainer.

Oh, and you stopped bringing him alcohol. You were a social drinker—he'd seen you share Kahlua-and-coffee martinis with the good doctor or bond with Leah over a sweet red. But when it came to Pam and him, you were only ever seen with soda and some filling food in hand. He wondered if you thought he wouldn't notice. If he was too out of it or too naïve.

You visited JojaMart sometimes—normally just to check on him, never to buy anything—and you always had a tense look on your face whenever he was stocking the drinks section. That, that one actually hurt. Yeah, he had bad habits. He was working, only half successfully, on breaking them. But that made him think you really thought he had no self-control. That he was going to wander forward like a zombie and mindlessly rip into the Jack Daniels and Bud Lite. He shouldn't be trusted super far, but he thought he at least deserved the sliver of faith that would be required to believe that wouldn't happen.

That was what he was thinking about as he sat next to the fireplace, cola in a stein in his hand. See, he was doing better. He wasn't used to being fully lucid at this hour of the night, but he was getting there. It was significantly more uncomfortable, sitting there in silence when he wasn't half-catatonic. Everyone else was having a great time. Even Marnie was having a... whoa, beyond friendly conversation with the mayor. Hell, where were you, anyway? You were always trying so hard to make sure he wasn't alone, and now you leave him alone? Maybe he deserved it for all those times he blew you off.

"Hey!" You suddenly appeared in his line of vision. Suddenly, even completely sober, he couldn't sort out his feelings. He was grateful to you for watching out for him; he obviously couldn't do that himself. He was annoyed that you infantilized him. He was confused that you put you with him. Why didn't you just cut loose and stop holding yourself back for someone who has done nothing but screwed over their own life?

"What are you doing here?" Shane said. Crap. That wasn't what he meant to say, not at all. He meant to say 'Why do you stay? Why do you care? I'm not worthy of you.'

Your face fell and Shane needed a drink or six. "Trying to hang out with you," you responded, your voice edged with anger and sadness. "I was—y'know what, I'll leave you be, I just wanted to give this to you."

You held your closed hand out expectantly, and he obliged with an extended palm. 

You dropped a pearl into it.

"Wha—" his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh, wow, Farmer, how did you know this is my favorite?"

You were already gone. He checked the clock on the opposite wall. Well, it was already 12. Maybe you just wanted to get a good night's sleep. He hoped that was all.

But Shane wasn't stupid.

When you exited your house at 6:10 AM sharp the next morning, you almost tripped over him before noticing that Shane was sitting on your steps. This was a huge break in his routine, and it worried you. "Shane? What're you—" You stopped yourself, realizing that you were parroting his words from the previous night. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Shane said abruptly. His murky brown eyes looked into yours with absolute earnesty, and you noticed something rather special about them. They weren't teary or red-striped. He wasn't hungover, at all. 

Your brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About—about... just, how I treat you, y'know. Always blowing you off and acting like you're not worth my time. I know it should be the other way around," his gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed his foot against the wood of the front steps.

You lowered yourself to sit next to him, knees nearly touching. Time always seemed to stand still when you spoke to him—the sun was stuck in the sky, and you weren't worried about what you were going to get done that day.

"What do you mean, Shane?"

"You know what I mean, Farmer," he said, before exhaling and rubbing his hands on his pants. "I just... I'm not... good enough, for you. I'm a, uh, flash in the pan, I guess. What I'm trying to say... is I'm sorry," he sighed, risking looking up at you again.

Your eyes seemed to look through him. "Shane," you said gently. "You're good enough, for me, for anyone," you emphasized. "And I... do understand why you say the things you do, and they are unfortunate, but I appreciate you recognizing that and apologizing."

Shane looked from your piercing eyes, to your hand that was resting on your knee, centimeters from his, back to your eyes. "I'm trying. Really trying."

You took his hand, and his heart rate spiked. "I know you are, and I know that Marnie and Jas and I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," Shane whispered. Part of him felt guilty—that somehow, Jas wasn't enough to straighten him out. But he was grateful that somehow, you were.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand,  comforting him further. He wondered how you could stand touching him. Even after that touching speech, he had a hard time believing you. Even if his personality, his character, was something you seemed to admire, which was beyond him on its own, look at him. He had gained... a number of pounds in the past eight months, he shaved maybe every three days, despite getting a five o'clock shadow by the end of that day. His hair was a genuine disaster, even though Marnie refused to admit it. He was physically clean (most of the time), and that was basically where the pros stopped.

"Thank you so much for coming over here this morning, Shane," you said. Shane had to suppress a shiver at the way you said his name. It didn't sound the way anyone else ever said it. Maybe it was just his imagination. 

But he was more than happy to keep imagining it. "I can't tell you... how much it means to me, that you're reaching out and, and trying. In the most non-patronizing way, I'm proud of you."

He could almost feel tears welling in his eyes. "You're—you're proud of me?"

He hadn't heard that since high school.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded genuinely.

He laughed, almost in disbelief. "Thanks."

You let go of his hand, and Shane had the chance to experience a split-second of disappointment before you used your now free arms to wrap him in a hug. "You can tell me if this is okay or not," you said, your words muffled by his Joja jacket.

"It's okay," he responded quickly, trying not to squeeze you too tightly.

You pulled back, wondering for a moment if it would be going too far, before you decided to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood, walking off to water your crops. "I should probably let you go, you don't wanna be late for work."

Shane's face was all pink, and he nodded after a moment's delay. "Right, yeah, um...thanks for listening to me," he stood as well. "See you later."

You watched him take the path from your house into town, zipping up his jacket against the wind. He had patched the holes in it.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 1: Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones

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

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15k

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

Here we go!! I’m so excited to share this. this story is very near and dear to my heart as all of these songs are very special to me in one way or another. I will warn this is a bit of a slowburn, and there’s a lot of flashbacks/memories in the chapters to showcase the extent of the relationship between the characters. As always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 I can’t wait to hear what you guys think

I usually have a listen while reading section, and it’s mostly a suggestion, but it’s imperative that you listen to the song stated in the title at least before reading, as every chapter is directly related to each one. If that’s not your thing, at least give the lyrics a quick read over! Much love 🫶🏻

SIX YEARS LATER

“Holy fuck, you have a lot of stuff.” Your best friend let out a dramatic huff as she dropped an overflowing box to the ground. You looked back at her over your shoulder, letting out a small chuckle as she pushed her long hair away from her forehead. She was tired, that much was obvious, and so were you. Still, despite your aching bodies and worn down minds, the two of you persevered with faith that the end goal would be worth all of the suffering.

“So do you.” You reminded her, folding a t-shirt and setting it neatly atop a pile of clothes you had been focused on. “Don’t hear me complaining about it.”

“Yeah, as if.” She scoffed. You could hear the roll of her eyes in her tone, striking a small smile on your face as she took a step towards you. “All you do is complain.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it pisses you off.” You grinned, grabbing an old pair of jeans from the mound of clothes you pulled from your closet. You looked over the tired material, your lips turning down into a frown as you tossed them into a pile on the ground, knowing there was no sense in keeping them when they looked one wear away from disintegrating.

“I’m kidding, you know that.” She assured you, making it clear that she wasn’t truly as upset as her words seemed. She began moving another box from your bed to the hallway, huffing as she bargained with the weight of the item. She was stacking them outside your door to allow for some more space inside the already tiny room.

Despite the smallness and the outdated decor, it felt nice to be back, sleeping on the same comfortable mattress you’d grown so used to when you lived at home. In truth, the lack of space was mostly credited to your oversized bed; you had begged your mom for a king size, asking for it for every Christmas and birthday from the ages of ten to sixteen until she finally cracked and made the purchase. Turns out, it was a great purchase, because six years and a graduate degree later, you and your best friend were sharing it while you prepared to move into your own apartment a few towns over.

You had traveled to Mel’s hometown almost a month prior, tearing apart her childhood bedroom just the same as you were doing to your own. You packed boxes full of her belongings, spending some quality time with her parents while learning and laughing about the funniest of all her childhood stories. Just like her, her parents were fun, free spirited and more accepting than even you could comprehend. They took you in with open arms, extending their gratitude for loving their daughter so dearly while she was so far away from home.

In truth, the pleasure was all yours, because in your six years at university, you felt as though Mel was the reason that you not only survived, but flourished. The two of you clicked instantly when you met, finding each other during your first week of freshman year in an intro to classic literature class. You bonded over your mutual dislike for your monotone professor who had to make an effort to be so disinterested in her own syllabus, and from there, the rest was history.

“You know, I actually liked Jane Eyre before I took this class.” You muttered under your breath, casting a sideways glance at the girl sitting next to you.

Her dirty blonde hair hung over her face, her eyes focused on a piece of empty paper in an unused notebook as she clutched a black pen in her hand. Every time the professor would switch slides on her PowerPoint, she would jump to write something down, but stop once she realized that once again, the gray haired woman was spewing nothing of significance.

Her skin was sunkissed, like she had spent all summer on the beach (or in a tanning bed—who were you to judge?), and her clothes were cute, but comfortable. Her brown eyes flickered to meet yours, her head turning ever so slightly to give you a glimpse of her face through her thick locks of wavy hair. The warmth within them was familiar, like you had seen them before in someone else you loved so dearly. You swallowed hard, forcing the thought out of your head. You were nervous, yet still excited at the thought of making a new friend, wondering if your words held any value to her, or if she would tell you to shut up.

Since moving to town, you hadn’t found one person you clicked with. You met lots of rich boys who threw their money in your face in hopes of convincing you to sleep with them, and plenty of girls who turned their nose up at your jeans with holes in the knees. They all looked like they stepped out of a magazine, and you felt completely out of place as you tried to break free from your small town habits. You dressed the same as you did in senior year, barely understanding how to be a university student and definitely lacking in the fashion department. You wore makeup to parties, but never anywhere else, mostly because in the years prior, you never felt the need to impress anyone.

Your long term relationship in high school left you more than secure with yourself, happy if you were comfortable and confident without any external aids. Now that he wasn’t by your side, you realized just how dearly he loved you, because without a pristine outward appearance, all of the university-goers seemed to turn their heads as you walked by. You had yet to find anyone to make friends with, and definitely no romantic interests as you tried to mend the hole in your heart that formed when you left your boyfriend behind to start anew. You were lonely, and more importantly, desperate to find someone to talk to.

“UPenn, Ivy League with a 7% acceptance rate and an English program better than any of their competitors, if you survive it.” She cracked a small smile, keeping her voice hushed as she joined in on the joke. “Only place in the world you can pay 20k a year for someone to put you to sleep.” You bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to swallow back the laugh stuck in your throat. You had sat beside the unnamed girl for your first three classes of the semester, but never found the courage to speak to her until that moment. She was the first person you had met that radiated a bit of life, something unique and alluring in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place. More than that, when you looked at her, you felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity. You were incredibly appreciative that she reciprocated any of your efforts at all.

“I think she put herself to sleep on Wednesday.” You confessed, recalling her slumped posture as she sat at her desk, waiting too long to engage in the group discussion after assigning an individual comprehension activity.

“Think she’s on her way there now, actually.” The girl nodded towards the front, suppressing a grin as she noticed the professor's drooping eyelids and extended bout of silence. The two of you shared a silent giggle, shaking shoulders and hurting bellies as you used all of your energy to silence yourselves in fear of getting caught. “I’m Mel, by the way.” She said, introducing herself after she calmed herself down.

“Y/N.” You replied, feeling better than you had in days. It felt nice to laugh, especially with someone who seemed to adorn the same sense of humour as your own. “Mel… is that short for Melanie? Or are you just ‘Mel’, cause that would be cool. Mysterious, even.”

“Neither, actually.” She chuckled, shifting in her seat so she was facing you a little better. “It’s short for ‘Mélange’, which is the stupidest fucking name I’ve ever heard.” She gave you a moment to digest the fact before explaining further, noticing your curious eyes as you held back another laugh. “My parents had me young, during their hippy-dippy era when they smoked too much weed and dressed like they were headed to Woodstock. Apparently it means ‘a mixture of dissimilar elements’, because I was made from different parts of them, or whatever. To me, it sounds like a really weird way of saying they had sex, and I really don’t think it meant that much to them back then. Probably just wanted to be the first to name their kid something, then realized how ridiculous it sounded so they had to come up with a story about it.”

“That’s… cool, though.” You stifled another laugh, finding her expression comedic as she rehashed the same story she used to explain her name every time someone asked.

“Yeah, cool unless it’s your own. Try growing up with that name and trying to survive the American public school system.” She shuddered at the thought, but a smile still lingered on her lips, telling you that she truly didn’t care that much anymore. “What about you? Your name short for anything, or are you just cool like that?”

From there, the title of best friends went without question. You did everything together, ranging from schoolwork to trips to the grocery store, hating the thought of being apart even while doing the most mundane tasks. You had made a pact to live together after graduation, unable to digest the idea of being apart when your university days ended, and you took the promise seriously. Since then, you did everything you could to ensure it happened, including travelling to her home state to pack up her shit so long as she promised to help you with yours. You both decided to go in the direction of teaching with your degrees, so you thought that if you lived together, you even had a shot of getting hired at the same school. Though, she seemed more keen on teaching younger students, and you leaned more towards high school.

There was lots still up in the air, especially without a solid job offer in line, but the two of you were determined to make it work, knowing that if you had each other, you could get through anything. Your mom was enough of a saint to house the two of you while you figured your shit out, and that’s what you were doing; packing, reminiscing, applying, and enjoying your life before things got too hectic again.

Despite it being manual labour, you quite enjoyed the experience of packing up your belongings, even though it did feel a bit melancholic at times. With every item you picked up, you were reminded of memories you’d shoved so far down that they were nearly forgotten. Although not all of them were the best, they were still important, and they showed you how far you had come when sometimes it felt like you made no progress at all. Mel was having a fantastic time for a whole different reason, finding your dramatic retelling of stories greatly comedic, and getting her first pick at the clothes you were planning on donating.

Being back at home with your family was different than it was all those years ago. Your mom, who had finally come to terms with the fact you were an adult, drank wine with you both in the evening as she got to know your best friend beyond what the surplus of FaceTime calls allowed over the years. You went on errands with her when you wanted to get away from packing, and enjoyed the things you once took for granted. Some nights, when she found herself a little too tipsy and reminiscent on the years that passed so quickly, she sat before you, weepy-eyed as she professed how proud she was of you. You felt like you were learning a whole new side of her, rather than the strict but loving one you knew all of that time ago. She was a woman who hurt and cried just as much as you did, who always put her kids first and held herself together when she was falling apart, just for the sake of being the rock in the house. You found yourself growing a whole new respect and a whole different kind of love for her, and you were grateful for the opportunity to see it.

Your younger sister, who was also staying at home for the summer, found herself hanging out in your room more often than not. There was much less arguments over who was spending more time in the bathroom, and no more mean words shared between the two of you that once flew so fast. In the early hours of the night, you finally had the chance to have the heart-to-hearts you missed out on when you were angry at each other over nothing important. She had grown up just as much as you had, and it almost pained you to see a woman standing in the shoes of the little girl you best knew her as.

Being in your hometown was different, and you had spent little time there since your studies began. Mostly for a few days during the holidays, and rarely any other time. When Mel pitched the idea of moving out of dorms and into an apartment, the visits grew much less frequent and when they did happen, it wasn’t usually for very long. You didn’t have many friends left in Frankenmuth, if any at all. The town was strange, a former village in which you had built a life that was now completely abandoned. Shops you used to love closed down for good and replaced with something new, old hideaways being changed into modern corporate hellscapes. Every year, there seemed to be new buildings lining the streets and different faces regularly appearing on sidewalks. It was home, for sure, but nowhere near as comfortable as it used to be. When you blundered around the town, you felt like a stranger visiting for the first time, learning everything all over again.

“Hey,” Mel caught your attention, pulling a cork board from your closet that had pictures tacked to the surface and small paper decorations in between. “Ms. Fishers sixth grade graduation!” She exclaimed, pointing to the banner of cardstock paper tacked to the top, the letters outlined with black sharpie and filled in with coloured marker. You laughed at the sight, realizing you hadn’t seen that board in years as you stepped towards her.

“That’s me!” You exclaimed, pointing to you standing in the mini-graduation gown at the very end of the front row. The class picture was sweet, but it made you wonder where everyone else in the class ended up. After all these years, were they nearing twenty five with no clue where they were headed, just like you? Or were they settled down with families, finding full time jobs and building lives with the people they loved?

The thought was saddening to you, making you realize how far away you were from getting to that point. A relationship was laughable, barely mentioning marriage and kids. In your six years of university, you had your fair share of hookups and flings, but never anything serious. You couldn’t seem to find anyone who you connected with further than physical attraction, and certainly nobody you would be willing to spend your life with. So far, the only compatible relationship for living was the girl standing next to you, and you were certain at some point, she would be ready to move on to something different.

“Look at this,” you stepped past her, grinning as you grabbed a cowboy hat from one of the handmade shelves at the top of your closet. Your dad, when he was still a good dad, made it for you so you could have some extra space. You placed the hat on your head, tilting it downwards over your face as you struck a pose. The dollar store gemstones you hot glued to the top glimmered under the light, making the sight even more ridiculous.

“What is that?” She asked, caught in a fit of laughter as she looked at the poorly decorated hat.

“I got really into spirit days at school.” You shrugged, tossing the hat in the pile of throwaway items.

“Loser.” She muttered, reaching for an old sports jacket suspended on a hanger. “Volleyball?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow as she read the words embroidered on the back.

“Yeah, tenth grade and never again. Coach was a bitch.” You explained, reaching for it to see if it still fit. As you made a move to slip it over your shoulders, you froze in place, knowing that even if it did fit, you would never wear it again. Instead, you threw it in the pile of clothes you were planning to drop off at the thrift store.

“Oh, cool!” You exclaimed, a shiny trophy catching your eye, hidden in the back corner of the top shelf. You brought it down, flashing it in her direction so she could read the gold panel.

“1st place…. Frankenmuth Middle School Relay?” She asked, unsure of what the award was for.

“Big race we used to do at the end of the year. Think the teachers got sick of lesson planning, so they brought us to the soccer field to do a bunch of activities. I was the fastest in the class that year.” You said, proud of the achievement as you placed it back upon the shelf.

“Is this a diary?” She asked, hauling an old leather bound book from a stack of papers and magazines.

“Yes,” you cackled, snatching it from her hands and flipping it open to a random page. “Let’s see… April 30th, 2010.” You cleared your throat for dramatic effects, beginning to read the entry aloud. “Today, in English class, Liam S. was totally checking me out. He’s definitely not the cutest guy in the class, but he’s funny, and he’s so nice. I hope he asks me to the spring dance, mom got me a new dress and everything!”

“And did Liam S. sweep you off your feet that night?” She asked, pulling her hands to her heart as she let out an airy sigh.

“No, but we did date.” You explained. “For three weeks, until I broke up with him for rating me too low on a hot or not list.”

“What!?” She exploded, her voice shrill as an echoing laugh boomed through the room.

“Yeah, apparently I only had the fourth best ass in the class.” You scoffed, quickly reading a little further into the book. You used to sit in your bedroom for hours at night, pouring your heart out on to the paper just for it to be forgotten in a mess of items in your room. “It’s funny, you know. I used to carry this thing with me everywhere, and I barely even remembered it existed.”

“Yeah, there was lots of stuff that I did the same thing with. Used to be a prized possession, now they just collect dust on a shelf somewhere.” She muttered, pulling out a large box sitting in the back corner. “And for the record, I bet you had the best ass out of anyone at that school.” She clarified, plopping the cardboard down on your mattress.

“No, I definitely didn’t.” You laughed, looking to the door as you heart a small pitter-patter of paws against the linoleum floor. The jingle of the bell around the collar signified your suspicions were correct, and when a fuzzy head peeked around the corner, you greeted him with excitement. “The man himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness!” You exclaimed, watching as the tubby black cat raised his tail and rubbed himself up against the doorframe. He let out a meow in response to your voice, happily trotting over to greet you.

“Don’t call him by his full name unless he does something wrong!” Mel scolded, reaching down to pick him up as he rubbed against her leg. “He won’t take us seriously if we use it all the time.” She plopped him down on the bed, the sound of his purring loud enough to reach both of your ears. He sniffed around the boxes a few times, nudging his face against the corner of the cardboard flaps to investigate the item taking up his place on the mattress.

“I don’t think he ever really takes us seriously, Mel.” You furrowed your brows together, looking from her to the small animal curiously meandering around the bed. “He gets treats and new toys every day, and we kiss him on the head after we scold him because we feel too bad about it.”

“Right, so don’t give away the last bit of power we have left.” She said, fixing the tag on his collar that somehow adorned his entire name in small print.

The cat was spoiled, loved so wholly and deeply by the two of you that sometimes you believed he was in charge. After a particularly rough exam week in your second last year of school, the two of you took a break from studying and took a walk downtown to clear your mind. You stopped at a coffee shop a few blocks away from your apartment building, where you found him, keeping content by playing with empty coffee cups in the nearby alleyway. Being two kindhearted people, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him behind. Within two weeks, he had made himself at home in your apartment, and not long after that, in your hearts, too. He went with you on every adventure; his harness being on more often than not. He tagged along in every road trip, and neither of you ever thought once about leaving him behind as you moved across the country again.

He was a witty and clever little thing, always sneaking into places he shouldn’t be and never allowing himself to go unnoticed. The minute you stepped in a room, he was squeaking at you to pet him, and never did he allow either of you to sit alone on the couch. He took turns sleeping with the both of you, and was happier than ever now that you shared a bed and he didn’t have to pick.

And yes, his full name was The Man Himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness.

Oftentimes, Ozz sufficed.

The cat actually went unnamed for quite some time after you brought him home. Neither of you seemed keen on the names being suggested, so for a while, he went by ‘Mr. Man.’ Or some odd arangement of classic terms of endearment that got stranger by the day. Then, when the two of you found yourselves a little too high off some weed you bought from an upperclassman, the name made its first appearance. You both took turns rambling ridiculous titles for him, until you took a leap of faith and rattled off the first thing you thought of when Crazy Train played from your Bluetooth speaker. The laughing was so intense it brought the both of you to tears, and from there, it seemed to stick.

Now, you couldn’t think of a better name to call him, even if it was a little ridiculous.

Careful not to disturb him, Mel reached forward into the box, lifting a few items from it. Ozz busied himself by chewing on the cardboard flap, not privy to the woman beside him at all. “What’s all this stuff?” She asked, looking over a few sheets of Monopoly money, a cracked mirror from the dollar store, and a deck of playing cards.

“That must be the stuff I cleared out of my locker in senior year.” You said, turning your head downwards and peeking inside. “Yeah, it definitely is.” You confirmed, pulling out a set of string lights with a battery pack attached. “It’s all junk, you can throw it out.” You dismissed it, ready to move on to something new.

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking between you and the box with great hesitancy. You casted another sideways glance, your lips pursing together as you wondered if it was worth your time.

Something in your heart told you not to jump so fast, to think about it a moment longer before discarding the memories away so easily. You tried not to be a sentimental person, because you found that sentiments only seemed to hurt you rather than bring you comfort. You used to be that type of person, so many moons ago when life was simple and the most you had to worry about was a surplus of homework and no pocket change to spend. Now, you thought it was ridiculous, and you did everything you could to draw a line between memories and objects. Items could not hurt, just the same as they could not be happy. They were objects, inanimate and unable to mean more than what you made them to be.

But there was something about that fucking box, like it was fate for you to rediscover all the things that awaited you inside.

“Let’s go through it.” You said, changing your mind as your skin prickled with curiosity. The emotion that took hold was unfamiliar, confusing and unsettling when you thought about throwing it away. It washed over you so quickly that you couldn’t even think of anything else, and you wondered if you were the very thing psyching yourself up for nothing, or if there was a reason you felt such a pull to the old items inside.

You sat on the side of your bed, your hands landing on the very corners as you gripped at the soft sheets lining the mattress. As you did so, a twang of hurt filled your chest, passing almost as soon as it came. You blinked hard, your eyes wandering the room as you tried to comprehend the sudden change in yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed together, your mind racing as you looked at the old chestnut dresser that stood next to the door, standing prominently against the crimson paint on the walls. The scene was so familiar, just like the melancholic emotion that came along with it. The hurt in your heart seemed right as you sat on the edge of your bed, but you didn’t know why.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked, also noticing the shift in your demeanor. Your head snapped towards her, your eyes glossy with the feeling that plagued you, but you nodded your head and tried your hardest to snap yourself out of it.

“Yeah, just a nasty little bit of deja-vu, I think.” You breathed, your eyes wandering back to the empty door frame. Whatever your brain wanted you to remember was pertinent to you, but you couldn’t seem to put it together yet. You felt like you’d been in the exact position before, but you couldn’t place it.

“I get it,” she empathized, taking a seat next to you and placing the box on the floor in front of her. “It’s a lot seeing all of your old stuff, like a lifetime you’ve completely forgotten about.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, the sound airy and forced. “I haven’t thought about high school in so long that it kind of just seems like a different world, now. I kind of forced myself to stop thinking about it, because it hurt too bad, you know? And I guess after a while, I blocked it out completely.” She knew what you meant, because in the entire time you’d known her, you had been unreasonably stingy with stories from your high school days. Every time she mentioned it, you seemed to go to a different place entirely, like you were using all of your energy to ensure the memories wouldn’t resurface. She respected you enough not to ask, but it was impossible to run away from now that you were standing face to face with the very things you tried so hard to stay away from.

“We don’t have to go through this, if you don’t want to.” She assured you, watching your face as your eyes fluttered towards the box.

“I do and I don’t.” You tried your best to explain how you felt, hesitant to reach out and explore the items before you, but gutted at the prospect of throwing it in the trash. “I feel like I’ve grown so much and I’m so different, and I don’t need to see any of this stuff again, but there’s something telling me I have to look through it all, that if I don’t, I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.” She bargained with your words before she responded, carefully considering all you had to say.

“Seems like you’re looking for something, but you don’t know what it is.” She offered the idea with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Yeah, maybe.” You muttered, finally harnessing enough courage to reach forward and sort through the mess of items.

Underneath a pile of loose papers, you found your old graduation cap. You held it in your hands, your fingers drifting over the silky, light blue fabric. You let your hand drift downward, running through the red threads of the tassel that dangled from the top. You placed it to the side, finding little comfort in the item at all. Below that lay a tattered AP Biology textbook, the front cover frayed and littered with marks from the students who used it before (and remembered to return it). There was an old pencil case stuffed to the brim with writing utensils and erasers. When you pulled it open, you found a folded up note from a fellow friend that was much too faded to read.

The more you pulled out, the stronger the tugging in your heart felt. Photographs of you and your old friends, bent and torn, floated loosely around the box. You took the time to study every one of them, saddened at how estranged you’d become from them. You didn’t talk to anyone from your hometown, and although you thought cutting contact was for the best, it only seemed to hurt as you recalled the sleepovers and adventures you engaged in with people who didn’t know you any longer. It all hurt.

Why did it hurt so fucking bad?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, boxes packed and the lingering scent of your mother’s favourite lavender candle hanging thick in the air. The chestnut boards of the dresser that once stored your entire wardrobe, the tile underneath your feet, impossibly cold despite the summer heat radiating through the panel windows by your bedside. Reruns of Dr. Phil on the television downstairs, the hum of a song stuck in your head despite no tune playing at all.

You’ve been here, in this exact position, hurting over something with the same fervor as you felt in the moment. It was so far away. Why couldn’t you remember?

For once, six years after leaving the town, you were aching to remember the memories and the love that was contained within the walls of the home, but you couldn’t. You pushed it so far away that the life you once led in Michigan no longer felt like your own. It was hazy, fuzzy around the corners every time you tried to recollect a scene. The voices were warbled, echoing somewhere deep behind your eyes and not quite loud enough to reach your ears.

Why did you try so hard to forget? Why did you force it away so desperately?

Then, the world stopped.

No person beside you, no curious cat nudging your hand. Dr. Phil had gone silent, and the air wasn’t even filled with the sweet notes of vanilla laced in unison with lavender. The creaks and groans of the old house ceased to exist, and the mattress below you disintegrated to nothing. You were stuck, frozen in time, floating amidst a cloud of smoke that wouldn’t clear. Your lungs burned for air, your heart threatening to explode under the weight of emotion. Your mind was repeating the same thing over and over again, incessantly reminding you, forcing you to remember everything you had hidden away in hopes of closure.

Instead of your voice, it was his, saying the same words that were written in silver sharpie on the lid of the tiny, black shoebox.

So let’s make it last.

“Oh, god.” You wheezed out the words, feeling like you were suffocating from the plethora of pain encasing your body. In an instant, six years spent dedicated to forgetting suddenly dissolved into one, terrifying storm of reminiscing.

The box.

The box.

That’s why you couldn’t throw it away.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” Mel asked, urgent as if she’d already asked a hundred times.

Little to your knowledge, she had, but you were too busy listening to the sweet sound of Jake Kiszka’s voice, stored so pristinely in the deepest depths of your mind.

“The shoebox.” You squeaked, raising a shaky finger to point her attention towards the poorly painted over Vans logo.

“So, what? What is it?”

What is it? It was everything.

It was a box full of love, sealed so long ago and hidden away for safekeeping when you couldn’t part from the physical reminders of the boy who forever had your heart. It was years worth of memories, years worth of emotion you hadn’t let yourself feel since you locked it away.

“That should be everything, my love.” Your mom crooned, placing the last movie ticket stub inside the box and sending a sorrowful look your way. Your tear stained cheeks were too much for her to bear, but she loved you enough to stand witness to the biggest heartbreak of your life. She loved you enough to put her own hurt aside, just to ease yours, to alleviate you from being the one to close the book on the chapter that hurt you the most. “What do you want to do with it, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.” You drew in a shaky breath, holding in a wail that was begging to escape you.

It had been 110 days since you had broken up with Jake, since you left him with sad eyes and a heart that bled only for you standing in your driveway, the ghost of his last ‘I love you’ still on his lips. It had been 110 days of the most gut wrenching, exhausting, and excruciating pain you had ever felt.

The snow stuck to the ground, the frost nipping at your nose when you stepped outside, and the Christmas tree standing tall in your living room told you that the season had passed and the world was still turning, but you felt stuck in that sticky summer day in August, tears on your cheeks and love on the tip of your tongue as you spent your last night with him. It was the first time you’d been home since then, the first time stepping foot in your bedroom after creating your most haunting memory within it.

You knew you needed to get over him, but you did not know how.

How do you move on from someone who loved you so completely and wholly? How do you stop lamenting about better days that have since passed and will never return? How do you keep going, knowing you would never hold his hand again, feel his touch, or appreciate the sweetness of his kiss? How could you move on when you did not hate him? When his memory still existed in your mind and he was still that perfect person?

The memory of him lived within the walls of your house still, his shampoo still lingering on your pillowcase and his love still in the air. The reminders of your relationship existed in every corner of your bedroom, on the walls, in picture frames, and in the threads of your sheets and blankets. Even now, with the pictures and love notes and dried flowers contained in a single box, you had no idea how to get him out of your head.

“Wait,” you sniffled, watching your mom begin to close the top of the box. You couldn’t stand to do it yourself. You tumbled down the stairs, a mess of tears on your face and a pain in your heart growing larger by the second, begging her to help you gut the last remaining proof of your relationship from the walls. “There’s one more thing.” You confessed, reaching down into your book bag. 

For 110 days, you kept it so close, carrying it with you wherever you went and playing it through the disc drive in your laptop every night to fall asleep. Now, you knew that you would never be able to move on, especially not if you continued to hold on to the memory so tightly.

With an unsteady hand and a heaving chest, you handed her the plastic CD case. Her eyes traveled over the faded writing on the disk itself, and her heart ached for you. Slowly, she placed it underneath the rest of the items, hiding it from sight to make it easier on you.

“I’m gonna keep this, and I’ll put it somewhere safe, lovebug.” She said, finally closing the top to the shoebox and sealing the memories inside forevermore. “Why don’t you go take a nice bath? I’ve got a bottle of wine downstairs with your name on it, but only this time.” She offered, reaching out and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Tomorrow, we’ll go out and do something, all three of us. That sound good?”

Of course she understood; five years ago, she sat in her bedroom, hurting just the same over a man who left her without a second thought. Who left all of you without a second thought. The only true healer was time, and right now, time was not your friend. You could lean on her, ask her for help, hold her hand, because she knew how you felt, and she’d felt that way many times before you even knew what it meant.

“That sounds good.” You breathed, closing your eyes and squeezing out the last of the tears brimming the lids.

“I’ll change your sheets for you, too.” She said, standing with the box clutched tightly in her hand. “It hurts right now, my love, but it won’t feel this way forever. I promise.”

It won’t feel this way forever.

Oh how wrong she was, even if the truth didn’t come in the way she meant it.

It did hurt forever, but it was not constant.

Four years it’s been since his name crossed your mind, four years of sleeping soundly and four years free of regret that plagued you so viciously. You were so tired of hurting that you forced yourself to forget; you erased every memory of him from your brain with the help of alcohol and meaningless hookups. You went home with a new guy every night, promising yourself that with new hands on you, you would forget the feeling of his. You buried yourself in school, studying so intently and for so long that your eyes crossed and you had a constant migraine. You deleted him and his family off every social platform, because despite going no contact that first ever week at university, you still stayed up at night, torturing yourself as you scrolled through Instagram and Facebook. You deleted every picture you ever took of him, knowing that if the temptation was there, you would submit to it. Worst of all, you vowed to never speak his name again, just so you could forget how good it felt rolling off your tongue.

You purged him from your life entirely, and it worked so well that he hadn’t been a passing thought in your mind in years. It was not because you hated him, not because you wanted to forget him. You did it out of necessity, knowing that every time you reminisced on the beautiful memories you made with him, it took a little more of your soul. For nearly two years, Jake Kiszka plagued every thought you ever had. You abstained from relationships and romance as a whole, because you knew nobody would ever be able to replace him. You needed to forget him, or else it would have killed you. You loved Jake so utterly and completely, even two years after you broke up, even after never speaking his name again, that it forced you to drown his memory. Every time you thought of him, you forced yourself to think of something else. Every time his face was pictured, perfect in your mind, you made yourself look at something else.

After so long, it became a habit, and now, it was a way of life.

But, even so, as you stared down at the silver writing, you knew deep in your heart that no matter how much forgetting you did, you never stopped loving.

“—earth to Y/N!” A hand waved in front of your face, breaking your staring contest with the Vans box decorated in silver sharpie. You could remember writing it, the sobs that shook your shoulders and the aching of your heart. The shakiness of the letters retold the story as clear as day.

After six years, you were still hopelessly in love with Jake, and one fear you always had remained true; nobody in the entire world could compare to him, and nobody else ever loved you in the same way he did.

Not that you let them, and not that they tried.

So let’s make it last.

How, after so long of refusing to think of the man, did he still have such a drastic effect on you? How were you still so caught up on someone you fell for when you were fifteen?

Out of all the questions, that one seemed the easiest to answer; you were still pining for him, because every version of you after fifteen loved him more than the last.

“Christ, you’re scaring me.” Mel tried again, her hand landing on your shoulder in a desperate attempt to pull your attention back to her. Your head finally snapped in her direction, your lungs searing from the lack of oxygen as you drew in a long overdue breath. “Are you okay?” She was panicked, her eyes wide and her expression coated with her fear. Never once had she seen you in such a state, and she was clueless as to why you were taken from her so quickly.

“I…” you trailed off, shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind. It felt like a million memories were washing over you at once, stuck in an endless stream of thoughts that you forced yourself to ignore for so long. “That box.” You finally huffed out, your eyes shining with the same heartbreak you felt all of those years ago. Time did not change the intensity in which you hurt over losing him, even if you convinced yourself that it did.

“What about that box?” She asked, trying to pry it out of you. It was a rough subject, not only because it was hurting you so badly, but because aside from your mother, you had never spoken a word about Jake to anyone.

She was your best friend, your partner in crime and everything good in the world, but this was a heartache she had not touched, yet. It was one you stored so deep down that not even you touched it anymore, and in order to answer the question, you would have to tell her everything.

“What isn’t in that box?” Your rhetoric was full of refrain, like the words fought a daunting battle to even pass through your mouth. Your heartbeat was so strong that you could feel it surging through your entire body, under your skin and behind your eyes, all the way to the very tips of your toes. Your face was burning, your throat dry and your eyes sad as you finally reached forward. Your fingers grazed over the surface, collecting a layer of dust as they traced the words. “My whole life is in this box, Mel. The very reason my heart beats.” You whispered, picking it up and placing it in your lap.

“I don’t like it when you get poetic.” She let out a nervous laugh, looking between your face and the item in your hands as she awaited further explanation.

“I don’t know if I can explain it without showing you.” You admitted, your finger gently running over the lip of the cardboard where the cover sat flush with the rest.

“If it’s so important, how did you forget about it? And more importantly, why have I never heard of it?” She asked, trying to make sense of it all. You couldn’t blame her for being so confused—in all of the time you’ve known her, this was the only thing you had ever kept from her.

“You know when something hurts so much that it feels impossible to survive? Like if you don’t stop thinking about it, it will be the only thing you ever think about?” You began, your eyes fluttering closed as a sad smile crossed your lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” She replied, her tone softening as she realized the seriousness of the situation.

“This is one of those things. It was the most beautiful part of my whole life, but now that it’s gone, it’s horrible to remember. It took me two years to get over it, and even then, I never really did. I just got better at bottling it up and ignoring it, and eventually, it became a habit. This hurt so bad that I had to forget about it, because if I didn’t, I would have spent the rest of my life stuck in it, rather than making something new for myself.”

“Ooookayy.” She drew the word out for dramatic effect, her humorous tone usually uplifting you in times of crisis, but not even this time could it begin to ease the feeling of hurt in your heart.

With a breath of courage you did not have, you flipped open the lid. You did not look inside straight away, instead finding yourself staring at the empty section of wall between your door and your dresser, remembering the sight that was there so long ago. Jake, teary-eyed with flowers from his backyard and a CD he’d worked so hard to make, clad in a sweater that he wore only because you bought it for him. You wondered what he looked like now, if he’d recognize you if he stood before you again. You smiled gently to yourself as you recollected the softness of his features, the warmth in his dark eyes, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Where was he, now? Was he halfway across the world, living his dream and playing guitar on stage every night? He used to talk about it so often that you thought it would be a shame if he let that passion go to waste. Was Josh alongside him, still annoying him beyond belief and loving him in a way only a twin brother could? Was his hair long, flowing past his shoulders and cascading down his back, just like he told you he wanted it to? Was his smile the same, toothy and goofy enough to make you fall in love at the first glance?

There were so many things you wanted to know, gutted that Jake existed in the world somewhere and you were not a witness to the light he added to it. You were in agony knowing that there wasn’t just one, but so many versions of him you never got to know, just the same as he never got to experience the many different versions of you. You hated yourself for never reaching out, for locking up that part of your heart and throwing it away, but you had to. It was necessary for survival, and you didn’t want to lose yourself to a stranger who might not even be the boy you once loved so desperately.

Then again, a small part of you knew that no matter how strange Jake would be to you now, he would still be just as lovable and just as beautiful.

Your heart ached at the thought of him being grown, now, likely wrapped up in someone else’s arms who could love him more than you could at the time. Back then, you thought that letting him go was the best way to show how much you loved him, but six years later, you understood he was the type of person you never should have let slip through your fingers. You wondered if he ever thought of you, or if he went through the same turmoil that caused you to shut out his memory completely. You swallowed down the lump in your throat when you realized he likely didn’t, because Jake was always much too grand to be caught up on someone as mediocre as you.

Forcing yourself out of the maddening thoughts, your eyes trailed down to the items inside the box. Carefully, you picked out a pile of movie tickets, sifting through them and trying not to get stuck in every memory of every theater date the two of you had.

“In high school, I met a boy who turned my whole world upside down.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as you passed the tickets to Mel. “He was everything anyone could ever want. He was the type of person that made it impossible not to love him.” You explained, feeling the scratch of tears in your throat as you grabbed a ziplock bag full of dried wildflowers and petals from bouquets. “He was a real romantic, always buying flowers and writing love notes. He walked with me to school before he got his license, and drove me as soon as he did. He was my best friend, and unfortunately, probably the best love of my entire life.”

“What was his name, love?” Mel asked, taking the bag of flowers from your hand so you could continue the walk down memory lane.

“Jacob,” the name felt like gold on your tongue, the taste sweet and the warmth otherworldly. “I called him Jake.” You pulled out a torn journal page, folded neatly and begging to be read. Carefully, you opened it up, letting your eyes drift over the familiar scrawl of his messy handwriting. “We dated for three years. Liam S. had nothing on him, and I met Jake not long after the hot or not debacle.” You laughed quietly, your eyes crinkling in the corners as you realized how happy you were that Liam turned out to be an asshole. Because of his childish behavior, the best years of your life happened. “I’ve never been so thankful to have my heart broken by someone, because if I stayed with Liam, I never would have met Jake. I was skipping class one day because I couldn’t stand the thought of being near Liam after that god awful list, and I ran into Jake, skipping because he couldn’t stand the thought of being in History class. Was fate, I guess. We were inseparable after that.”

You took a moment, swallowing back the pain and blinking away tears as you pulled note after note from the box, each one more painful than the last. There were doodles, stick figures of the two of you holding hands, and hearts dancing around your heads. Jake always had a special way of expressing his love, and he did it in every way he could. It was always lighthearted, never too serious but always fully expressing the tellings of his heart. He wrote you love notes because he wasn’t good at saying it aloud, and he drew terrible pictures when words failed him. At the end of the day, he was a teenage boy, but he was so much better than the rest of them.

“We did everything together. So many days spent at the lake, and so many nights spent talking in this bed. We used to sneak out on the roof and look at the stars every night, because there’s a ledge on the attic window that makes it easy to get up there. He listened and never made me feel stupid, and he loved me so much that I never had to question it. He used to drive my sister to her basketball practices when mom was at work, and he’d sit with me the whole time, happy to do it. He was quiet, but everything he said was worth listening to. He was funny, and so kind. The biggest heart I’ve ever seen on anyone.” You felt yourself choke up, the surplus of emotion becoming too much for you to hold back.

“What happened?”

“Life did.” You responded, simple enough as you continued to sort through the box. There were tickets to school sports games, tokens from the local arcade, and all of the guitar picks that fell from his pocket into your bed. There were unopened ring pops, because he’d buy you one at the corner store every time you stopped, forever promising that it would be a real ring someday. Your entire relationship was in the box, staring you in the face with a ferocious grin as you recounted the mistakes you made. “Him and I were always different. He had a dream of being in a band. He hated school and everything that came along with it. He played soccer, he loved to have fun, and he smoked cigarettes. He wouldn’t listen no matter how many times I told him it was bad for him. I loved school, I was good at it, and I wanted to go to the best university I could get into. I didn’t drink all that much, and I stayed in more often than not. For three years, it never phased us, and we loved each other no matter how different we were. It still seemed right.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

“Not even then.” You chuckled, pulling out an old Polaroid picture.

As your eyes landed on the two of you, laying in the long grass in the field at the old park, you felt the knife twist in your stomach. He was smiling, the grin lighting up his whole face as he held you in his arms. You were between his legs, your back against his chest and your arms atop his, wrapped around you. You were in his clothes, your hair falling over your face that was nearly washed out from the flash of the camera. You could remember the feeling like he was behind you now, the rattle of his chest as he laughed and the warmth of his body against yours. The deep amber of his cologne lingered in your nose, and the sweetness of his kiss still remained on your lips.

In that moment, you thanked God that Josh was there to take the picture. Even now, even after all the hurt, the memory was so precious to you and you wished so badly to be there one more time, just for a minute.

“We talked about it for a long time, what would happen when I left for school. I knew I was going far away, and he knew he was going to stay here. Maybe if I went to school closer, the outcome would have been different.” You shrugged, acting nonchalantly about one of the thoughts that often plagued your entire life. “We decided long distance wasn’t right for us. I didn’t want to hold him down, and he didn’t want to hold me back. We loved each other so much that we let each other go, believing it was for the best. I can’t speak for him, but for me, it was far from the best. It was the worst, actually.” You explained, looking at a few other Polaroids in the box. “We broke up the night before I went to school. Or the morning of, I guess.” You corrected yourself, your fingers going in search of the only thing you truly wanted to see.

“And that was it? You never talked to him again.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Never again ‘cept for a few days after I got there.” Your fingertips found the hard plastic case, pulling it out from the very bottom of the box. Origami flowers went flying, the ones you made for him but never had the chance to give him, and a few guitar picks fluttered to the floor. “That night, he gave me this.” You flashed it in her direction. She reached out, taking it from your hands so she could read the words written on the disk. “I remember exactly what he said, and it fucking killed me, Mel.”

“Eight songs, Y/N. I sat there for hours, listening to as much music as I could. I sorted through my dad’s old vinyl records, and all of the CD’s Josh and I could find in the house. I searched for lyrics on the internet, I even asked my mom if she had any ideas.” Jake explained, taking a step closer to you. There was a small plastic case in one of his hands, a bushel of hand picked wildflowers in his other, and a look in his eyes that made your heart ache with all of the pain you had been holding back. “This is it; eight songs that tell you exactly how I feel about you. Four that tell you how much I love you, and four that tell you everything you need to know about how I feel about you leaving.”

You recounted the memory aloud, the quiver of sadness in your tone too loud to ignore. “For three months, I listened to this every night to go to sleep. I carried the CD with me everywhere I went, until I came home for Christmas and mom and I decided it was best that I put all of this stuff away. I was torturing myself, loving someone I couldn’t have. That’s why when I met you, I never wanted to leave your side. I was recovering from this, and I had nobody.”

“So he’s the reason you listened to that Pearl Jam song on repeat all of the time?” She asked, thinking back on the state you constantly found yourself in.

“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding as a tear rolled down your cheek. “Black. That was the song.”

“Right, how could I forget?” She chuckled, humming the tune to herself. “I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, I know you’ll be a star in somebody else’s…” she sang to herself, trailing off as she realized why the words spoke so loudly to you.

“Sky.” You finished, unable to leave it hanging. “But why can’t it be mine, right?” You forced a smile on your face, trying to joke, but both of you knew it was not funny to you.

“Why did you never tell me about him?” She asked, looking at you with sadness in her own eyes. She was grieving the love with you, like a true best friend would.

“Lots of reasons, I suppose.” You sniffled back another wave of tears, your voice now infiltrated with the sadness that once only ravished your heart. It was taking over again, like it did so long ago when you vowed to shut it out. “Guess I didn’t want to scare you away, and I didn’t really want to bring that memory to school with me. The dorm and the apartment walls, all of the buildings…. That sadness never touched that, you know? He was never there, his memory didn’t live in the place like it does here. I thought if I never talked about it, it would never hurt as bad there as it did here, that night.”

“But it did anyway.”

“It did.” You agreed, clearing your throat slightly. “For a really long time. I spent two years thinking of him, dreaming of him. I wanted him so bad, and it never went away with time like all of the Reddit forums said it would.” You laughed at your own stupidity, shaking your head at all the time you spent reading breakup advice from faceless strangers on the internet. “One day, I had to stop. I was my own worst enemy, listening to all the music we used to listen to together, living in the memories at night when I was alone in bed, picturing him beside me, holding my hand. I deleted him off all my social media, and his family, too. I erased all the pictures, and I drank and partied so much that I couldn’t think about anything, let alone him. I studied so much that I dreamt about Shakespeare, and every time I thought of his name, I shoved it so far to the back of my mind that I couldn’t possibly find it again. I forced myself to forget it all, to pretend it never happened so one day, I could believe it.”

“I told myself new memories would replace the old ones, and after a while they did. Christ, when we came here he wasn’t even a passing thought in my head, but I could feel this lingering sadness in the air, looming over my head all of the time. I didn’t get it until now, when I saw the box, and it all came back at once. I shoved it so far down that I tricked my brain into blocking it out, but when it’s in your face like that… it’s hard to keep it out.” You finished, closing your eyes to regain yourself. “That’s why you lost me for a while, I guess.”

“So you haven’t had any contact with this guy? Like, at all? You don’t know what he looks like, where he lives…?”

“Nothing.” You assured her. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s ignoring a problem so much that it ceases to exist.”

“But it does exist, and it still hurts.” She explained. “You don’t date, you don’t try to meet guys, you hate the idea of love, and this is why, Y/N. If it’s been six years and you still feel that way, maybe you should reach out.” She offered, looking over the CD once again.

“As if,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the idea. “He wouldn’t even remember me, Mel. It’s been so long, I’m sure he’s long moved past us. He’s the type of guy everyone loves, so I’m sure he’s found someone who treats him really well. He deserves that, not the girl from high school who broke his and her own heart.”

“Maybe we should just look at his instagram, just to see what he looks like?” She asked, pulling out her phone.

“No.” You said, reaching out and holding her phone down. “I don’t want to, Mel. I stopped keeping up with him for a reason. All it does is hurt me more.”

“Okay.” She conceded, placing her phone back on the bed. “Since we’re already sad, why don’t we listen to the music? Why don’t you tell me about the songs?”

“Nosy.” You snipped, but shot a playful smile her way.

“Obviously.” She huffed. “My best friend just told me about a boyfriend I’ve never heard of before, who is apparently the greatest love of her life. I want to know everything that I didn’t know I was missing.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, eyeing the messy handwriting on the surface of the disk. “I’d just be reopening old wounds. I don’t know if that’s what I should be doing while I’m trying to start my life.”

“Seems like they’re already open, Y/N.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Just one song?” You watched her face for a moment, your heart racing at the thought of playing that first track. At the same time, an overwhelming sense of calm washed over you at the idea, like an addict finally in reach of a fix. It had been so long since you let yourself enjoy the music that spoke his love for you, and the thought of hearing it again made your heart soar. It had been so long since you felt such an abundance of love like that, and you understood that it couldn’t hurt more than it already was.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, carefully placing all the items back in the box. You sat it beside you on the bed, slowly standing to your feet. You grabbed the disk from her hand, navigating through the mess on the floor and plopping down in the computer chair nestled in the corner of your room. You hunched over; searching through the drawers of your desk until you exactly found what you were looking for. “A-ha.” You muttered to yourself, pulling out the old CD player and the speakers you had to go with it. The cords were tangled, wrapping around all of them and knitting together to make the task even more daunting for you. “I haven’t used this in years.” You said, your fingers carefully unraveling the tangled mess of the cords.

“Used it? Y/N, I haven’t even seen one since middle school.” You chuckled, plugging the player into the outlet on the wall beside you.

“I only ever used it to listen to this.” You clarified, wiping the dust from the surface with the bottom of your already dirty t-shirt. You popped the top open, carefully taking the disc from its holder and placing it inside. You shut it, trying to read the faded white print on the black surface to find the play button. Eventually, you hit start, and the air filled with a static silence, the whirring of the machine the only thing filling your ears.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes as you braced yourself for the impact of that first note. Your palms were clammy, your chest tight and your stomach swirling with nausea. Even as horrible as you felt, knowing what was to come, the feeling was comforting, familiar even. You felt it so many times, huddled in that exact chair with your knees pulled to your chest. You felt it in your dorm room, tears clouding your vision as you tried to hide yourself under the covers and disappear from the world. You knew this feeling better than anything else, and you had every scratch and pause on the track memorized so well that you could recite it in your sleep.

Even so, it didn’t seem to stop the wave of grief that washed over you when the first strum of the acoustic guitar filled the air.

You nearly doubled over in your seat, struck with an invisible force that was stronger than anything else. Your bones ached and your body felt heavy, your eyes aching as you squeezed them shut so tightly it made you see stars. The music that filled the room was quiet, but it felt like it was screaming at you, beating you down and berating you for being so foolish.

“Childhood living,

Is easy to do

The things you wanted

I bought them for you.”

Four years old, Barbie doll in hand and chocolate stains visible on your neon green shirt as you stood at the entryway of the kitchen. Your hair was wild, messy from a full day of playing outside. The summer air was sweeter than it had ever been, the color of the grass so prominent in your mind. Dandelion yellow stained your knees from kneeling on the abundant petals in the backyard. The clouds in the sky looked like cotton candy, and you pleaded with your mother to let you stay outside for just a moment longer.

Of course, she picked you up by the arms, scolding you with a smile as she told you that you wouldn’t be able to play if you were hungry. Dinner was waiting for you on the table, your favorite meal to top off the wondrous day of being completely carefree. For dessert, you split an ice cream sundae with your dad, doused in chocolate sauce and rainbow sprinkles. As your mom did the dishes, you watched a cartoon on the couch. When the sound of the water stopped and giggles filled the air, you couldn’t help but investigate, dreading missing out on a moment of fun.

When you peeked into the room, the kitchen table concealing you as you stood at perfect height, you did not see your mom hovering over the sink. Instead, you heard the static hum of the radio, the familiar song playing quietly. Your mother was in the middle of the room, dish towel still in her hand and a blinding smile on her face. Your father stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and his head nuzzled in the crook of her neck. A smile that matched hers rested on his own lips as they swayed slowly, and he was singing her the lyrics as they passed through the speaker.

Although it was out of tune, off time, and nowhere near as good as Mick Jagger had sounded, it was perfect. To you and your mother, it was the best sound in the whole world, because when your dad sang it, it was full of love.

“Graceless lady

You know who I am

You know I can’t let you

Slide through my hands.”

Eight years old with your little sister by your side, the words passed through your fathers lips, but it wasn’t the same as it used to be. He was tired, withdrawn, singing the song with refrain in his eyes as he watched the hand your mother was holding. The love has lessened, the tune a habit rather than a gift. Things were different, and you chalked it up to age. One day you were certain your father would sing it again, with the very same love in his eyes he used to have.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away.”

The familiar song played through the closed door of your parents bedroom, but it was not framing a sweet moment. It had been on repeat for a day, now, and your father had left late the night before. Something deep in your soul told you he was not in there, nor was he singing it to her. Sometimes, when the music lulled, you could hear a muffled cry pass through the hollow door, cementing the notion in your head for good.

“I watched you suffer

A dull, aching pain

Now you’ve decided

To show me the same.”

At thirteen, you stood at the door of your parents bedroom, a lump in your throat as you watched your mother sleep away another afternoon. Your sister continued asking when your dad would be home, but the longer you stared at the half-empty room, the more you understood that the answer was something she couldn't quite understand. The longer you watched, the more you understood you’d never hear him sing that song again.

“No sweeping exits

Or offstage lines

Could make me feel bitter

Or treat you unkind.”

“Oh, God. Jake, please turn that off.” You pleaded, the melodic sound filling your stomach with dread. He looked back at you, nestled in his bed and safe under his blankets. He turned around in his desk chair, his head cocked to the side as he abandoned his math homework.

“What, you don’t like The Stones?” There was a careful kindness in his tone, wondering where your sudden discomfort came from but nervous to cross a line by asking.

“No, I do, just not this song.” You clarified, your heart racing in your chest as the hum of Jagger’s voice began to fill your ears. You tried so hard to stay calm, not to retaliate and cover your ears so you did not look like a child throwing a tantrum. Instantly, he reached over and lifted the needle from the spinning vinyl, placing it back on the holder. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t listen to it.” You breathed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as the song came to an abrupt stop.

“S’okay, sunshine. You don’t have to apologize for anything.” He promised, wheeling over to you as he noticed the discomfort in your eyes. He reached out, brushing your bangs from your eyes in an attempt to comfort you. “Why not?”

“Long story.” You whispered, your head sinking further down into his pillow.

“I always have time to listen to you.” He assured you, his thumb drifting over your cheek. Your eyes fluttered to meet his, the sight immediately calming your mind. You swallowed hard, leaning into his touch ever so slightly.

“My dad… he used to sing this to my mom. It was the best song in the whole world to us for so long.” You explained, fighting the distaste begging to leech into your tone. “They used to slow dance to it in the kitchen, and he’d sing it to us too, when we were sad. Then he fucking left, and mom listened to it over and over again, like it would bring him back. Guess it didn’t work out as well as she hoped it would.”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I had no idea.” He hummed, his fingernails gently scratching over your scalp in hopes of soothing you.

“S’okay,” your eyes fluttered closed in bliss at the feeling. “Just sucks, ‘cause I used to love the song so much, and now it makes me sick.”

You didn’t understand back then, but now you knew why your mother played it so often. She was hoping it would bring him back, or hoping that it would make her feel close to him again. She was torturing herself in the same way that you tortured yourself with the exact CD you were listening to, then.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away.”

“I have something to show you, sunshine.” Jake's hand in yours felt right, just as it always did. His voice rang through your ears as you walked up the stairs to his bedroom. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but you knew if he had anything to do with it, it would be nothing short of fantastic.

“I know I dreamed you

A sin and a lie

I have my freedom

But I don’t have much time

Faith has been broken

Tears must be cried

Let’s do some living

After we die.”

You couldn’t stop the tears, running like waterfalls down your cheeks as Jake softly strummed at his dads old acoustic. The rasp in his voice paired with the quiver of nervousness made his singing all the more beautiful, and the sentiment behind his actions made your heart swell with joy. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on, and you couldn’t believe he loved you so dearly.

His playing slowed to a stop, his anxious eyes flickering up to your face. As he noticed the trails of mascara streaked down your cheeks, his stomach dropped, fearful that he hurt you more than helped. You wanted to speak, to commend him for his gracious gesture, but words were failing you. You had never been so full of love in your life, not for anyone or anything, but he continued to amaze you with every day that passed.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. I never wanted to make you cry.” He stood, propping the guitar against his desk as he stepped towards you. His hands reached out, gently swiping away any lingering sadness on your face.

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, still choked up at the sweetness of the moment. “It was beautiful. So, so beautiful.” A small smile crossed his lips, and he crouched down to eye level, dreading overlooking a single moment of time with you. “Nobody’s ever done anything so nice for me.”

“I just… you said you loved the song, but you couldn’t listen to it anymore because it hurt too bad. I wanted to make the song good again, to make it hurt less.” He whispered, his brown eyes seemingly staring into your soul. “I don’t know if it worked, but I’d do anything for you, sunshine. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.”

“You do, Jake. You always do.” You felt tears falling from your eyes, but they were for a whole different reason than they were all of the times you heard the song before. He did exactly as he intended, and the song took on a whole different meaning. The bad hurt less, and the memory of Jake singing to you would be something you would never forget. He was everything, and you were so incredibly lucky to have him.

You reached toward, pausing the track before it could finish. Your chest was aching, your shoulders shaking with your tears as you felt Mel’s hands on your shoulders in support. She slid them downwards, and your hands raised in search of hers. Your head fell back, resting on her stomach as you tried to calm yourself down. It hurt the same every time; no matter how many years stood between the initial heartbreak, the thought of losing Jake had always been the worst one ever.

“Tell me about the song.” She whispered, pulling you out of your own head in hopes you’d share the sorrow with her, just to make it a little easier to digest.

With a shaky breath, you recounted the memories that you’d kept locked up for so long, finally allowing someone to help you carry the weight of them. She listened intently to every word you had to say, hanging on to the stories and keeping them as safe as you had the whole time. There was no one in the world you trusted quite like her, knowing that you could confess anything and she’d still extend a helping hand. You were lucky to have her, grateful to call her your best friend, but you knew that even she could not begin to ease the pain from this.

“I just… I wish things were different for us, you know? Like, I always knew we should have been more, that we shouldn’t have ended like that.” You let out a ragged sigh, finishing your retelling with the sentiment that haunted you for so long. “He tried to stay friends, and he tried so hard, but I had to stop. A few days after I got to school, I had to stop talking to him, because I loved him too much. Friends was torture back then, but now I feel stupid for cutting him off. Now I know that having him around would have been better than this.”

“Y/N, you have to reach out to him.” She urged, combing her fingers through your hair. “If it’s been this long and you still feel that way about him, you can’t let it go.” She tied your hair back in a ponytail, keeping it away from your face until you calmed down. Your cheeks were crimson, burning with heat as the sadness ran its course. Your eyes were swollen, your head aching, and you wished it could be that easy.

“After six years, Mel?” You didn’t mean to sound so condescending, but the tone slipped out without a second thought. “We’re totally different people now. I bet he doesn’t even think about me anymore.”

“You don’t know that, though.” She argued her point, squeezing your shoulders ever so slightly. “He could be sitting in his room, talking to his best friend like this. He might still be hurting, too, and maybe he’s scared to reach out because he thinks you forgot about him.” She let the thought hang in the air for a moment, not pressing any further until you responded. You blinked hard, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. The coolness of your skin felt nice against your face, bringing you back to earth for a moment. When the silence became too much for her, she spoke again. “You never know unless you try, Y/N. You can’t live the rest of your life wondering. Just reach out, say hi and ask how he’s doing. Even if he’s moved on, at least you’ll know for sure. Once that door is closed, you can move on too. Right now, you’ll be stuck thinking about him and wondering ‘what if’ forever.”

You didn’t want to tell her she was right, mostly because you were too afraid he would be moved on, in love with someone else and happier without you. You wanted it for him, because he deserved it, but you wanted to be the one that made him happy. The thought of someone else loving him made you sick, because you doubted that anyone could ever love him as much as you did. Actually, you doubted that anyone could love anyone as much as you loved Jake.

“I doubt he has the same number, anyway. I just have the one he had in high school.” You shook your head, finding yourself too hopeful already. You needed to shut it down before your heart broke even further.

“Try, Y/N.” Mel urged, unable to drop the topic. She wanted it for you, to see you happy and in love. She always wondered why romance never seemed to move you, and now she knew it’s always been because you were waiting for him. Instead of responding, you hit the rewind button on the player and pressed play again, already yearning to live in the memory of him singing it to you again. A sad smile crossed Mel’s lips, but she gave a curt nod, turning around and continuing to pack and move boxes of already sorted items.

You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin atop of them as you listened to the familiar melody. You wondered if maybe his number was the same, and if you reached out, he’d still have your contact saved in his phone. You wanted to know where he ended up, what he was doing and who he was doing it with. You wanted to know him, to hear his voice and have him say your name again. The need was pressing, and it grew harder to ignore the longer the song played.

Could he still feel the same? After this long, did he still think of you from time to time with hurt in his heart and regret in his mind? Was it possible that he was still hung up on you, or were you just an idiot who couldn’t comprehend letting go?

You had so many questions, the same ones that plagued you since the day you left. You didn’t know the answer, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to.

However, Mel was right.

You would never know unless you tried, and for him, you would do anything. As much as it would kill you to hear how happy he was without you, it would still be better than never talking to him at all. You needed to know the man he grew into, even if it was for a fleeting moment in time. You wanted to know if his hair grew out, if he still played guitar, and if his laugh was still just as sweet as it was back then. You wanted to tell him you graduated, that you finally did it after so long spent talking about it.

You couldn’t waste the rest of your life hung up on a man who loved you when you were young. You couldn’t be eighty years old and still thinking of Jake Kiszka when you tried to sleep at night. More than that, you couldn’t open yourself up to love if you were still so in love with him.

“I’m going to grab something to eat.” Mel said, hovering in the doorway of your room. When you didn’t so much as look her way, she turned towards the stairs and walked out of sight.

You needed to reach out. You needed to try, just like she said. Even if the conversation sealed shut the door you always wished to open again, it would give you closure, and you might finally be able to move on. Right now, moving on was laughable, and it was something you never believed you could do.

Mel was right, and so right that it was impossible to ignore her.

Even if his number changed, or if you were blocked, you would finally know for sure. You took a large gulp of breath as you stood to your feet, Wild Horses still playing softly in the background as you stepped towards your bed. You grabbed your phone from the mattress, unlocking the screen and clicking on your contacts. You gulped down the ball of anxiety stuck in your throat as you selected the name you never thought you’d speak again. There was still a red heart beside his name, something you couldn’t bear to change. You opened a new text thread, the empty screen sending a shiver down your spine as you recounted the endless ‘I love you’s’ once held inside the chat.

Your finger hovered over the keypad, your mind blank as you thought of what to say. There were so many things you always wanted to confess to him, that you were sorry and you missed him, or that you were wrong and never should have left. You wanted to be angry that he let you leave, and to be happy for all the love he gave you that carried you through until that very moment. You wanted to say everything and anything, but it wasn’t right. You couldn’t break the radio silence after so long with something so powerful, but you never knew how to keep it simple when it came to Jake. His name alone caught you in a storm of emotion, and the picture of his face in your mind nearly brought you to your knees.

You began to type, quickly stopping yourself with a shake of your head. It wasn’t right. What were you supposed to start with? How could you rekindle conversation with the only man you’d ever loved, after so long of loving him silently?

You started again, letting out a sigh as the words seemed to come out wrong yet again. You felt like an idiot, but you still stood in place, staring at the screen. Somehow, no matter how stupid you felt, putting the phone down felt wrong. You needed to do it, but you just didn’t know how.

You typed and re-typed the message so many times that your eyes crossed and your head began to spin. Your heart was thudding against your chest so intensely that it began to hurt, and you hadn’t even hit send yet.

“Come on, coward. You can do it.” You huffed, furrowing your brows as you hyped yourself up. “Stop overthinking it.”

And you did; when you stopped thinking, it seemed all the more easy.

You - 4:53pm

Hey, Jake. It’s Y/N. I know it’s been a while, and I’m not sure if this is even your number anymore, but I’m back in Michigan again, for good I think. When I’m in Michigan it always reminds me of you. I hope you’re doing okay, and I hope that this isn’t too weird. It’s strange being home, and I guess I was just thinking of you and wanted you to know that after all this time, you’re still on my mind.

With little hope and a lot of courage, you attached a song from Spotify to the text. You hit send, watching the blue line at the top of the screen slowly begin to slide across, signifying it was much too late to change your mind. It was slower than usual, making you believe he truly may have changed his number, or blocked you at the very least. If he did, you couldn’t blame him, because you’d been tempted to do the same.

Before you could spiral too far, the small chirp let you know that the text was delivered, and the words underneath the bubble read as such. Your heart drummed even faster, and you expected a wave of regret to take over, but it never came. Instead, your mind was calm, a strange peacefulness washing over you at the sight of his name in your phone again. Soon after, the song delivered too, the link turning into a shortcut. The album cover showed in a small square, and next to it showed the name of the song and the artist underneath. On the very opposite side, a small little play circle appeared, letting him preview a snippet before he opened the app.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

We’ll ride them someday

Wild horses

couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

We’ll ride them someday.”

You listened to the song playing over your speakers, your cheeks flushed and your lips upturned into a small smile. You wondered if it was too much, or if he would think you were weird for sending him the song, but deep down you believed that even if he did, some semblance of the man you used to love so dearly continued to remain. Even after all this time, the song would still be important to him, and just the same as back then, even after all this time, not even wild horses could drag you away from him.

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