#and if ive ever not made that clear its my bad! i think ive been pretty good about responding kindly to people with different

[piosplayhouse]

MY FIRST ANON HATE!!!! 🥳🥳 Guys congratulate me Ive finally made it to the big leagues

[mxdotpng]

i literally do not know what i want to do with adaline. like i dont necessarily want her to die but endwalker is It for her. she does not do any of the post-patch quests. she isnt there. thats not her. dawntrail? she isnt going. but she is like the least likely of all the scions to Ever retire. being the warrior of light is a type of atonement for her. it is what she must do even if she despises it. so the only answer for her really is death.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Am I sick or do I have a migraine and the weather is just making me congested on top of that

Hard to say

[eilishsluv]

could u write a fanfic maybe a angst to fluff? perhaps billie stops giving attention and reader overthinks which leads to angst then fluff. hope ur well:)

sure anon! i hope this is how you wanted<3

attention

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: billie had stopped giving you the attention she used to which lead to you overthinking & so an argument

warnings: arguing, hickies, kissing & unedited

notes: this was fun to write, enjoy reading:)

billie was an extremely busy person, she had been ever since she stepped foot into the famous business. but these past few weeks you've been feeling extremely neglected by her, its happened before but never for this long. usually only afew days but its almost been 2 months. this had made your thoughts sprial.

overthinking was a bad habit of yours but how could you not especially right now? her flirty comments with other famous people, fans & just anyone. you loved billie & so did she, but now you definitely doubted it.

you both laid in her bed, your head on her chest & usually she'd avoid her phone, or atleast her hands somewhere on you, but no, not today. billie had both her hands on her phone, with her arms on either side of you, barely brushing against you as she typed.

you were done, the jealousy, overthinking & worry got to you. you managed to move away from billie & off the bed.

"whats wrong baby?" billie questioned watching you look around the room.

you ignored her completely, although hearing her voice & petname hurt your heart terribly. scurrying around her room finding your clothes & some of your belongings, billies brain started to tik realising you were leaving.

"woah woah woah, y/n what are you doing?" billie started to move off the bed to stand with you. this made your blood boil.

"oh so you can flirt with other people, ignore me completely, make me feel like shit but you expect me to stay & deal with all of it?" as you talked your voice got louder & louder, you were pissed.

the distress was visible in her face, you stared at her waiting on a response.

"y/n what are you on about?" billie was on the verge of tears, you on the other hand had hot tears streaming down your cheeks already.

"you think i dont see everything you do billie?! for fucks sake, i mean really? really. every single comment you make on another person breaks me apart cause i went from hearing them every single second to once a week if im fucking lucky!" your voice broke all throughout that sentence but you had to get that out, but you couldnt scream all you wanted to.

billie slowly stepped towards where you were standing. she was insanely intimidating when she wanted to be, all you did was step further back up until you hit the wall.

she stared deep into your eyes, hers showed a sad although dominant expression.

"is that all you think & feel?" billie looked as if she was joking, you didnt care. she asked for it whether or not she was serious.

you scoffed looking down then back up into her eyes.

"do you seriously think thats all? i mean billie all i fucking want is your attention but you dont even give a single fuck to me anymore. you have done nothing but ignore me for weeks!" screaming that in her face felt therapeutic but also painful.

billie looked speechless, you guys had argued before but never over something like this.

"you think i dont love you?" her sentence hung in the air, your face gave it all away. billie cleared her throat before continuing.

"which other girl is dancing in my house, wearing my clothes, coming with me to events, sleeping in my bed in my arms, cooking me dinner or listening to me make a new album? y/n you are the only girl i want & need, i own up to being distant but i dont want another girl" billies tears started to fall. you wiped them away as she leaned into your touch.

"im sorry baby." you felt like shit for everything you did in the past 10 minutes.

"dont be sorry for my actions & how ive treated you" you both felt bad but only wanted one thing, & that was eachother.

billie leaned down into your neck, leaving kisses & marks. it was one of her ways of saying sorry & that she loves you.

"i love you" you spoke

"i love you mamas" billie answered back.

she was all you wanted & you were all she wanted, she definitely cleaned her act up after that.

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if I break up with my partner because I think I'm lesbian?

(🪿🫧 To recognize this) this is long, I'm sorry

I (23they/she) have been with my partner C (24they/he) for a little over a year. Some background, I grew up strict Mormon and am still struggling with the internalized homophobia from the teachings of the church. I currently identify as biromantic asexual because I have a hard time with sexual experiences. I have only ever been with people assigned male at birth, all previously cis/het men until my current partner. C identies as Bisexual and has stated previously that they don't mind never being physically intimate sexually.

Recently ive been thinking about afab or feminine adjacent people, no one specific just like day dreaming about a girls and it made me feel a way I never have before, including with previous partners. This is leading me to suspect the only reason I have a hard time with being intimate with previous partners is they were all amab or at the very least just very masculine including C.

This is where I could potentially be the asshole. C has some previous experiences with previous potential partners saying they didn't want to continue citing they're actually lesbian. This has left him super jaded. Especially after they later found out one of them ended up in a cis/het relationship the next month.

He and I have had a rocky last few months due to his housing situation and sometimes lack thereof, job hoping, and not being medicated for bipolar, and me being off my anxiety meds due to new prescription.

He has stable housing and a job now, and I have stabled for the most part myself. I did in the midst of all this bring up the possibility of just being friends due to previous issues and I tried to bring up me struggling with my sexuality. He promised to fix his issues and kind of ignored the issue about my sexuality because he didn't know how to respond to it. He kind of just explained it away.

The problem is, a lot of his friends are my friends too, we work at the same place, and he relies on me a lot for transportation and sometimes monetary help. We don't live together because I'm living with my parents until I go to school. I'm worried about losing our friends or making working together bad.

To be clear I do care about them a lot, he's one of my closest loved ones but I'm not sure it's in the way he wants it to be, and I don't like hurting them, I hate the idea of him not being in my life. He and I are both autistic as well so its kinda hard to really understand what this whole thing means or how to handle it

Any advice is also welcome

What are these acronyms?

[blueskittlesart]

blue blue you cant just drop the "its a metaphor guys" and then not elaborate. help my smooth brain. what is the metephor for the gloom hands

i know ive talked about this before because i literally wrote a whole comic about it but i can't find it sooo lol. anyway it's failure. the metaphor is failure. Consider where link is mentally during totk--he's regained much of his memories about his life pre-calamity, in particular he remembers the kind of pressure he was under to succeed at sealing the calamity, and arguably his experiences in botw only served to reinforce that mindset--he was shown exactly what happens when he fails or falters even a tiny bit. Hyrule is destroyed and zelda is trapped in a battle to the death with ganon for a hundred years. he likely carries a TON of guilt from that, and he hasn't quite been able to break away from the mindset that was instilled in him pre-calamity--that he is singlehandedly responsible for the well-being of the entire kingdom and any tiny slip-up or mistake could spell the end for everything he knows and loves. even the early events of totk reinforce this mindset--link makes one tiny mistake and loses zelda AGAIN, with seemingly no way to ever recover her.

All of this is to say that when totk opens, link is in a bad mental state, specifically, he's very much ruled by his fear of failure. after that mistake below hyrule castle costs him zelda, especially, it's likely he regresses back into a bit more of that pre-calamity hypervigilance and perfectionism, having been reminded exactly what is at stake.

As for where the gloom hands come in, I think the imagery itself makes it pretty clear what they're supposed to represent. The hands themselves make a constant reaching motion as they chase link, a motion which is VERY reminiscent of the reaching motion link made for zelda in the opening segment; a reminder of that specific moment where he failed and what it cost him. the "midday blood moon" effect present when the hands are giving chase is another visual element reminiscent of link's failures--specifically, it's harkening back to botw's calamity ganon, which had a similar effect on the environment the closer you got to it in the sanctum of hyrule castle. the blood moon effect is another visual memory of a specific instance where link failed to do his duty and lost everything because of it. these elements in tandem with the way the hands move mean that this entity is essentially link's failures CHASING HIM DOWN.

another element of this that I think is important is the fact that the hands are a cloak for another enemy--phantom ganon. to me, this is symbolic of the fact that although LINK may blame himself completely for the effects of the calamity and what happened in the opening segment of totk, the REAL enemy, the true cause behind all those events, is GANON, not link. but link is incapable of seeing this until he's willing to confront his fear of failure head-on and get it to drop the veil, revealing the true enemy underneath. because the hands are so viscerally terrifying to players, most early-game encounters with them will just end with you running for your fucking life, regardless of how obviously ineffective that strategy is--the hands are faster than you and don't consume stamina in their chase, unlike link, so they're almost always going to catch him in the end. the easiest way to defeat them is to get far away and fire off arrows, metaphorically forcing link to look his fears in the face instead of running away.

[leychin]

PLAY NICE by @sugoi-and-spice may be the best thing ive ever read and im going to talk about it. I binged it all today. its so good please read it

TW: Mentions of r4pe, panic attacks, abus3, and many other traumas

This may be the best characterization of Shigaraki in fiction ive ever seen. Its realistic and it starts off like he does in season one. A brat, untamed, violent, and impulsive. When we meet him its clear he has no goal and hes throwing shots in the dark, waiting to see what hits. But its deeper than that, and i think spice shows that its shigaraki used to getting what he wants, hes never "failed" before and he doesn't intend to start now.

Its messed up, its all a fucked up situation darling lands herself in. She cant say no, she cant do anything, and in many ways shigaraki is no different. He's doing as his sensei instructs, and its what hes been raised to do and he cant do anything about it either, but at he tries to enjoy what he can.

The relationship is built off of him holding this over her head, she has a good life, good family, friends, and a boyfriend. Shes smart but shes not happy, and even early shigaraki may have been a brat but he was perceptive at least. In the short time they spend together he's learned her quirks, what makes her tick, and how she really is.

they both really do bring the worst out in eachother, but it's also the best isnt it? As the story progresses we see Shigaraki give crumbs of his past or what he remembers of it, and we see her learn to let go of the facade she puts up for everyone else around her. Its not even a healthy relationship, its not like theyre "getting better for eachother" its just a passive effect. Their relationship is still founded on shigaraki very openly r4ping the poor girl and holding her fathers job over her head.

Call it stockholm, but she gets too caught up in the routine of being with Shigaraki and its adorable to see, he can fuck her brains out and then tell her to play black ops 2 with him like its nothing. Its a welcomed click because theyre both lonely, they both need someone, and even if they arent the best people, they end up becoming better i cannot stress that enough.

i dont want to spoil too much of it for anyone who reads my little ramblings on it, but shigaraki opening up to her as time continues, learning, and not just seeing her as an npc is something you need to read and i cant possibly hope to explain. He falls so hard its so good. His thought processes, his panic attacks, his itching, its all so perfect.

Spice you need to pursue a career in writing bc you've made something raw, something real. You wrote a story about two bad people, two people who are bad but better and its gross but its also gross in a cute way. i love you and i love this mwah.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | iv

Driven to the brink of insanity, y/n turns to her best friend for advice in her time of need. A Sunday brunch paired with day drinking leads to a world of new information she hopes will help her to better understand the new world she is caught up in.

Read part three here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: sexting, sort of phone sex I guess, dirty talk, name calling (ish?), pet names, touch of praise, teasing, drinking, swearing, gossip (is that a warning? idk anymore guys), mentions of cheating, but nothing super heavy for this chapter! sorry if i miss any!

in my hungover state I present you with this! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter literally since I’ve started this. it’s super important to the plot and I think clears up a lot of stuff!! plus it’s a good little summary of everything leading up to this chapter. also id just like to say a super sincere thank you for the love i have received on this series. it was a big step out of my comfort zone and i was really worried that it wouldn’t be enjoyed, but you guys are so kind and supportive. i <3 you all. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The tiny diner was overcrowded for its size, but still as welcoming as ever. Cheer and comfortability radiated through the air from the minute you stepped inside, never failing to brighten spirits. The small booth in the very back corner was routinely reserved for you and Danny on your Sunday outings. Brunch, always, but it was normally followed by some sort of wholesome activity to fill the afternoon. Then again, it didn’t matter what you were doing; time spent with Danny was always wholesome, and quite fulfilling. His friendship was one of your most prized possessions, mostly because you never really experienced anything like it before him. The conversation was never dull, radiating a type of safety that made you feel like you could tell him anything. Jokes were always well timed, advice was free-flowing, and a gesture of comfort was routinely available if needed.

Sundays were your favourite day, because you got the opportunity to spend time with him. Sometimes, the other boys would join, but that was rare. Even if they opted not to, you were fine with that, because you knew that the booth in the very back would always be reserved for two. That day was no different; you picked Danny up from his apartment at the usual time, and you both showed each other new music discoveries from the prior week. After the high stress of the weekend, you were happy to return to some type of normalcy, even if your regret for your careless decisions were constantly looming over you. When you arrived at the diner, the familiarity of the scene wrapped you up in a warm hug.

When you settled in to the seat, you placed your purse beside you and your phone face down on the table. The morning had started in a strange way, still leaving you frazzled hours later. After yesterdays activities, you had woken up tangled in the bed sheets and wrapped around Jake Kiszka. You never thought you would find yourself in such a state, but the reality of it was all too overwhelming to ignore. Although it wasn’t a bad start to the day, you were still aching with residual stress from the entirety of the situation. When he woke, too, the feeling seemed to wash away. There was a few hours where things seemed perfectly right, instead of troublesome; laughing and kissing your way through the earliest hours of your day, cooking breakfast and sharing cups of coffee along with stolen glances and smiles. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, making you genuinely believe you could spend the rest of your life doing just that. Once he’d left you on your lonesome, the guilt creeped back in like a disease, eating away at every part of you and taking you for its own. It had yet to satiate, even with Danny in front of you and a promise of a good day.

“You look terrible.” He stated, taking a sip out of the coffee mug the waitress had quickly delivered. Your eyes snapped up to him, shocked at the blunt statement.

“Thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows, a small laugh stuck in your throat.

“No, not like that.” He corrected, placing his menu on the table. There was no need for it; you both had tried the entirety of the menu the restaurant offered, settling on your favourites long ago. “You always look pretty. I mean, you look like you just saw a ghost.” He was right, you couldn’t deny it. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever, skin pale and eyes distant. You were a mess, definitely looking like yourself but a mostly just a shell of it. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, unsure of how to respond to his statement. “Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He shot back, his gaze unwavering. You shifted under the stare, feeling like he had already picked up on your predicament. You hated that about him; he always seemed to know there was something on your mind, even if you exhausted every way to hide it. It was just a Danny thing, and you had picked up on that long ago. He cared too much, noticed too much. Secrets didn’t exist around him, and perhaps that was why you were so excited for this particular outing, subconsciously hoping you might be able to get at least something off your chest.

“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the day.” You grumbled, taking a long sip of water from your cup. “I wouldn’t want to make your ears bleed.”

“I’ll strike you a deal.” He offered, causing you to look up at him. “Bottomless mimosas on me, and a shoulder to cry on.” You eyed him, nervous to agree but comforted at the thought of speaking your mind. “What’s said at brunch stays at brunch. I’ll drive home.” His invitation was very tempting. As much as you felt like you should keep the turmoil to yourself, the idea of advice or even just to confess your mistakes was overwhelmingly alluring. After a moment, you decided you would have to say something, even just an elusive idea to get some kind of answer to your internal debate.

“Deal, but it stays between us.” You finally said, realizing that if you didn’t speak your troubles aloud, they would eat you alive. Besides, there was nobody in the world that you trusted more than Danny. You knew you could probably confess murder and he would only ask how to help. “But my lips are sealed until those mimosa’s get here.” You smiled.

When the waitress came to check in and take orders, you both settled on a meal and Danny was sure not to forget your drinks. As you waited for her return, you struggled to arrange the thoughts in your brain. You had no idea how to explain the situation to him, or even where to begin. You were scared he would think differently of you, even though deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. The whole thing was sick and twisted, and you were so on edge that you thought you might combust. The last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship with Danny because of your inability to understand your own feelings. When the champagne flute was finally in front of you, your stomach churned with unease. You looked up to meet his eyes, but found he was already waiting in anticipation.

“So, what’s going on?” Before answering, you grabbed the glass and made quick work at finishing the liquid in one go. You figured you’d need the courage to tell this story.

“Remember that lesson we were talking about?” You asked, checking the flute to make sure you didn’t miss any alcohol before setting it back down.

“Vaguely,” he smirked “but I don’t think you ever told me exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, because I still have no idea what the fuck it is.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I made a really big mess of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Okay, don’t panic. We can work through it together.” Your heart warmed at his words, feeling a little better just at the thought of his input. Even if he were to tell you that you were an idiot, you knew you deserved it. There had never been a time where advice from Danny hadn’t helped, even if it was only for a moment. And, although you hated to admit it, he was almost always right. “What kind of mess?”

“A big one.” You said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “I guess I probably have to go way back to the start for anything to make sense.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands. Your plan for keeping your feelings quiet had crumbled long ago; if you were going to tell him anything, you would have to explain it all. “The lesson was Sam. I’ve been in love with him for months.”

“Mhm,” Danny nodded, pausing his response as the waitress walked over to replace your drink. Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. “I had an idea.”

“Was it that obvious?” He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting you to see his face as he reacted to your question. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, finding your inquiry quite funny. “Oh, god.” You groaned.

“No, not exactly obvious.” He lied. You let out a groan, embarrassed that everybody seemed to know about your crush. “I don’t think he did, though. He’s pretty oblivious.” He comforted you, the second part of his statement much more genuine. “Why is that such a big deal?” You audibly laughed at his comment, realizing that he had no idea the extent of the problem.

“He never gave me any idea he liked me back. Flirted with girls at my house, acted like I was just another one of the guys. I never really felt like I meant anything more to him.” You explained. “And I was too much of a coward to say anything. Thought it was better if I kept everything a secret. I didn’t want to risk losing you guys as friends. I like you all too much.”

“We like you too, y/n.” He smiled, finding your worry silly. He knew that whatever happened, he still wanted to be your friend. You were his solace away from the chaos of his band mates, and to him, it was the best thing in the whole world. You gave him a soft smile, taking a moment to sip at your drink again. “No matter what, you’re always going to be my Sunday brunch date.” He assured you. You let out a long breath, now preparing to get into the deepest part of the conversation.

“So that night, after you and I talked, I figured that I had to snap out of it. I spent every weekend watching him, hoping he would make a move, or even give me some sort of hint that he acknowledged I existed in any way other than a friend. I was tired of waiting. I wanted to have fun, so I asked you to play beer pong.” He hummed an agreement, letting you know he was following. “And I partnered with Jake.” And what a grave mistake, that was. “I was drunk, and at first it was friendly, no different than usual. Then he started looking and talking to me different. It wasn’t bad, obviously, but he was very clearly flirting.” You paused, noticing the small smile he was fighting back. You tried to ignore it, not liking the way he was looking at you. “I was really drunk, and it felt really nice to be noticed. I shouldn’t have entertained it, but I did. I played along with him, thinking it was harmless. The game ended, we went out separate ways, and I figured that was the end of it. It should have been the end of it.”

“It wasn’t, though, was it?” You shook your head at his words. The conversation was stopped by plates of food in front of you and another replacement for your empty mimosa. You took a break from the grievous topic to have a bite to eat before continuing. After a few moments, you answered.

“Nope,” you sighed, popping the p to accentuate the impact. “We talked for a little while longer, then I went to the bathroom. Heard someone playing my guitar in my room, so of course I had to check.” You cursed yourself for not knowing better. “There he was, playing so well that it draws you in without a second thought, looking as pretty as ever.” He got a laugh out of your statement, never hearing two compliments sound so much like insults. “I joined him and we talked for a while, completely normal stuff.”

“You guys hooked up?”

“Ah!” You snapped, pressing your finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep his voice down. He let out a hearty laugh at your dramatics, knowing that nobody in the vicinity gave a single care about what you were talking about.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess!” You said, exasperated at the thought of recalling that moment aloud, especially to someone so close with Jake. You took another long drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. “I went to bed, and I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was thrilled, but a bigger one never wanted to do it again. I felt so guilty, almost like I cheated on Sam even though he had no idea I liked him. How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid, y/n. I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” He shrugged. “We live in our own head, and when we like someone so much, especially for a long time, it kind of starts to feel real. I think you feeling guilty is actually more normal than not caring. Means you really do like him, and it’s not just a surface level thing.” The confirmation was nice, but also made you feel even worse. You felt as though you shouldn’t be allowed to have feelings for Sam anymore, especially after how you spent your morning. “I take it that’s not the end?” He chuckled, picking up on your sullen expression.

“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands again. “I wish it was, but no.” He reached over, looping his fingers around your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, noticing his smile.

“It’s okay. What’s said at brunch stays at brunch.” He promised. You gave a slight nod, letting your hand fall into his. He rested them on the table, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

“When I woke up and only saw you three in the living room, I kind of thought he regretted it, too. Figured he sobered up and… yeah.” You laughed, not feeling a need to get into your insecurities. “I was nervous, still feeling pretty guilty, but we were all hungover so I just blamed it on that. Things felt normal for a minute, when we were all just sitting and falling asleep. Then he came back. From the minute I saw him, I knew he didn’t regret any of it. He gave me my coffee. My coffee, exactly how I order it. He remembered, and I don’t even think I’ve ever told him.” You mumbled, feeling a blush rise at the memory. “We ended up going to the basement, and nothing happened, really. We kissed and talked, and we kind of agreed he would stay after everyone left.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.” He reassured you. You narrowed your stare, causing him to back down instantly.

“Aside from the feelings thing, no.” You admitted, feeling bad for giving him such a harsh look. “While we were playing songs, everything felt fine. It was fun, I wasn’t nervous or worried about anything, and I thought that maybe things would be fine. I know Jake isn’t the bad guy; he’s not someone I wouldn’t want to fall in love with. I think I’d like it, actually, if the situation were that simple. He’s always been kind to me, he’s funny, he remembers things about me that nobody bothers to. He cares about the little things. He pays attention.”

“And Sam doesn’t.” He affirmed. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“He never has. I feel like I wasted months loving someone who didn’t give a shit whether I was around or not.” Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue instead. It was your time to vent, and he wanted you to say what you needed without interruption. “I went to the kitchen to get more coffee, more comfortable with everything. I thought maybe if Jake and I spent enough time together, the feelings for Sam would just be… obsolete. I’m sure it would have worked, too. But, he just had to follow me.”

“Sam?” You nodded, giving him a bit of clarity. You were so worked up that you were rushing yourself through the story.

“Yeah, we just chatted for a minute, both drank our coffee like normal friends. Then he tried to hold my hand! And then tried to hint around that he liked me, too!”

“He did not,” Danny sat back in the booth, letting his head slump against the seat, internally cringing at his best friends terrible timing.

“Sure did! The whole confession was pretty funny, actually. Not to me, but definitely to someone! It was like god was sitting up in the sky laughing at me while it happened.”

“He’s so stupid.” Danny groaned, clearly exasperated himself. Danny was so unapologetic about his secret love of girl talk, and it made you incredibly happy. He really was your best friend in every sense of the word.

“Yeah, and I was a little pissed off! It made me feel like I was only worth loving when he was afraid he couldn’t have me. We argued for a few minutes, and he basically pried the confession about Jake out of me so he could use it for his own personal agenda! Then, he got this grand idea that he’d make it into a competition between him and and his brother to see who can win me over.” Danny gave a wince at the thought, already aware of Sam’s thought process before you even said it aloud. “I told him it was a bad idea, and I meant it. It is a terrible idea.” You clarified before telling him any more. After a few moments of silence, his eyes were urging you to continue. “We kissed.” You sighed. He let out another laugh, like what you had said was a joke rather than something you deeply regretted. His hand squeezed yours once more, another gesture of comfort. “What’s so funny?”

“No, no. You tell your story, I’ll talk later.” He assured you. With an air of discomfort, you accepted the deal, deciding to purge yourself of the last bit of the story so you could get it over with.

“It was fantastic. Something I’d been waiting forever to do. It almost felt wrong because it felt so right. So I planned on ending things with Jake. It was the right thing to do; I know if Sam had kissed me even a day sooner, there would have been no problem or conflict. I would have been over the moon.” Danny gave a hum, understanding what you meant, but not certain he agreed with it. Still, he held his thoughts back until you were finished. “You guys came in, and Sam left. Jake was still in the living room, because I told him to stay after everybody went home. I went in to talk to him, fully prepared to end things, but when I saw him, it was like it disappeared. He’s just so… captivating. Like, when I’m around him, he’s the only thing that exists.”

“Yeah, he does have a pretty big personality. Hard to ignore. He’s quiet, but I think that’s part of the charm.”

“Yep, because everything that comes out of his mouth is perfectly thought out.” You snipped, angry at the thought of his perfection. “He started talking, and he knew Sam and I had done something in the kitchen. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. There was a lot of back and fourth, kind of unimportant. I don’t even think I could explain it, anyway. But, he basically said that they both had feelings for me and they decided that they should both have a fair shot at winning me over. Isn’t that fucked up? That they decided that on their own, and didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what I thought! Anyway, whatever. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. He said some cryptic shit and I told him to leave, but it was mostly just because I was pissed off. I don’t think I really wanted him to go. Like I said, it doesn’t matter, because he stayed the night, last night. He left before I came to pick you up.” You sat back in your seat, defeated still, even after talking through the whole thing. The words being spoken into the universe only seemed to make you feel worse about the predicament. The only hope you had left was that Danny would have some sort of miracle advice to help you out, but you didn’t want to keep your hopes too high. “I think Jake’s been feeling the same way about me as I feel about Sam.”

“Okay.” Danny said, showing you that he was sufficiently aware of your predicament. “My turn?”

“Please.” You urged, finishing the last of your drink. You barely had the glass back on the table before the waitress was there to replace it. You were starting to feel the buzz of the liquor, realizing that you were genuinely getting day-drunk just to forget about your own mistakes. You were at an all time low, you decided. Your usual attitude towards relationships had continually assured you protected yourself, never letting anyone get to close, and never falling for anybody too hard. It was lonely, but loneliness was much preferred to how you were feeling in that moment. Now, in addition to a broken heart and a guilty conscience, you were scared you were going to lose the only true friends you ever had.

“I’ve known Jake and Sam for a long time. It’s a blessing and a curse. I love them to death, they’re family. Fun to be around, great friends, all that mushy shit. But, after so many years, you pick up on the bad stuff, too.” You were intrigued, now. As the fourth glass of the heartache remedy slid down your throat, you felt yourself leaning in closer to the table, not expecting a response like such. You thought Danny would call you on your bullshit, tell you that you were an idiot. You prepared yourself for that, still, because the conversation wasn’t over. It was still a possibility, but you certainly didn’t think his advice would lead in with the Kiszka’s baggage.

“You mean to tell me they’re not perfect? That god didn’t hand craft them and put them on earth just to make the rest of us feel bad?” He had another hearty laugh, finding your tipsy smile hilarious. Your ability to joke even through your turmoil was heartwarming.

“Seems that way sometimes, but no. At least I don’t think so.” He reassured you. “Jake and Sam are a lot more alike than everyone thinks, and not just physically. Sometimes, they’re more alike than Jake and Josh, which is incredibly hard to do. I mean, they’re brothers, so it’s expected, I guess. I didn’t notice it when we were in high school, but Jake wasn’t around as often. Once we all graduated, we started making music and spending a lot of time together. I think that’s when I realized how similar they were.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, wholeheartedly believing him. The two were strikingly similar in lots of ways, despite a few blatant things that offset their shared traits. You could even tell through their touch, or the small interactions that left you guessing if they previously conspired what they were going to say to you, or if it was just their Kiszka nature.

“Their taste in girls has always been one of those things. Over the years, girlfriends or flings caught interest in the other brother, or vice versa, and it was always a bit messy. It seemed like if you fell for one of them, you’d eventually fall for both of them. Or if one of them fell for you, the other would, too. It’s really fucked up, actually.” He gave a little chuckle, trying his best to explain the observation. “They caught on to it pretty soon, and fought over it once or twice, but it never seemed to cause an issue between them. They’d be mad for a few days, then they would move on like it never happened. I don’t know if they accepted it, or if they just didn’t care. Personally, I couldn’t do what they do. It would drive me crazy.” He added, clearly letting on that whatever he was leading in to was common, very deeply rooted and still pressing. You could see in his eyes that the idea was unsettling to him. “For a year or so, whichever way it went, the other just admitted defeat and moved on.”

“Oh, wow.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around his words. It felt like you were learning deep lore about them that you weren’t supposed to know.

“I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I felt like I shouldn’t be, but it seems like they’re back to their old ways. Trust me when I say it’s much harder on you than it is on them.” You nodded, agreeing with the statement. The whole twisted relationship had given you nothing but turmoil since it had begun, and you were desperate for insight on how to fix it. To them, it just seemed like another day’s work. “Our first real tour, Sam fell super hard for a girl we met at a bar one night. Like, I mean head over heels, stars in his eyes, the whole nine yards. He got her number, and they were in love before we even left the bar. They ended up getting together, and things were really great between them. She even came along with us for a few weeks. They were happy for a while, but then Sam let tour life get to him, I think. He fucked up, hooked up with a random girl and threw the whole thing in the garbage. It was absolutely his fault, and I’ll never defend him over it, but he was young and had no idea how to handle the fame, even if we weren’t that big back then. He seemed to cling to every bit of attention he got. I know he regretted it as soon as he realized what he did, but obviously it was too late. I don’t blame her for leaving.” He shrugged. You were watching intently, immersed in every word.

“Now, I don’t know for certain what happened. Nobody talks about it anymore, and we never really did back then, either. It’s in the past, and everybody wants to keep it that way. But, that girl ended up in Jake’s bed after the big blowout. I don’t know if she initiated it, or he instigated, but it didn’t really matter, anyway. Sam found out and went insane, and he wasn’t interested in knowing who started it. They fought, like really fought, fists and all. We thought that would be the end of the band; they didn’t speak to each other for weeks. Rehearsals and concerts were constantly tense. The girl wasn’t even in the picture, anymore, Sam just felt betrayed and Jake didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong. Before, I don’t think he was ever really in love with anybody, so it didn’t matter as much. But that time, Sam reached his breaking point.”

“Holy shit,” you didn’t care about anything else happening around you. The story was captivating; both boys were very closed off, never giving too much away about themselves. They’d always answer questions if asked, but you never really heard much about the past, especially relationships. You were realizing why, now. “Poor Sam.”

“I guess.” Danny shrugged. “In that situation, yeah, but he’s not innocent. After they made up, he never let it go. He wanted to get back at him, and he did. Ever since then, Jake never had a chance to have a relationship. The minute he showed interest in someone, Sam was already trying to win her over. At first, I think it was just a coincidence. They’re similar, they like the same type of girls, obviously that can cause some issues. After that, it was different. Clearly intentional and meant to be hurtful. I stopped feeling sorry for them a long time ago. They know what they’re doing, and neither of them want to be the bigger person and apologize. Over the years, it’s just grown into a big mess.”

“So that’s why they’re doing this?”

“Yeah.” He felt no need to lie. “They’ve always been competitive. It’s a brother thing. Sam more than Jake, really. I think it’s because he’s younger, maybe feels inadequate sometimes. But to be competitive over girls with real feelings… I don’t like it. After so long, they learned to take the loss and move on. Better luck next time, to them. They mope around for a few days and then they’re back to best friends like nothing ever happened. The girls always end up getting hurt in the end, and that’s the fucked up part. They can hurt their own feelings as much as they want, but I don’t think it’s right to do it to anyone else.”

“That’s why Jake knew what happened in the kitchen. And Sam was so certain he was going to win me over. They’re masters at the game.” The whole wicked, devil-like persona’s were making more sense, now. Every move was thought out, meticulously planned and executed with grace. They’ve been playing this game far longer than you’d even been a part of it, and you were curious if they even had real feelings at all, or if it was just a part of the spiteful process.

“Masters, I’m not sure about. Cocky and annoying, absolutely. I don’t care what they have against each other. They have to settle that between themselves, not bring anyone else into it. All of us consider you a friend. A best friend. What they’re doing hurts everyone, but clearly it’s been hurting you the most.” You finished your drink, looking around for the waitress to get another refill. You were in information overload, more questions and worries filling your head with every second that passed. He picked up on the nervous energy, giving your hand another small squeeze to bring you back to reality.

“Do you think they even care about me, or is it just to piss each other off?” His eyes widened, realizing how easily you could have interpreted that from his story.

“No, y/n, not like that. I can’t speak for certainty on everything, but I am pretty sure Jake’s head over heels for you. He always perks up when we talk about you, and he’s the first one ready when we’re going to your place. Most of the time, he’s begging us to hurry up. I can see it in his eyes. We all see it, and I think that’s why I got so excited when I saw you guys flirting on Friday. Hoped that he’d finally get the courage to make a move.”

“Okay,” you whispered, scared to ask anything about the other boy, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

“Sam likes you, too. He told me himself, and not just yesterday, either. I’m not picking a side, or trying to get you to choose. Just telling you what I think you need to know so you can stop beating yourself up.” He explained. “I don’t know why Sam didn’t speak up, sooner. I told him you liked him, gave him encouragement, but he never said anything. He acted like he was oblivious, but he knew. Everyone knows you have feelings for Sam. I love you, but it was obvious.” Your cheeks turned rosy, embarrassed at your own inability to hide your emotions. “I think they both really like you, and they were scared of the same thing. They didn’t want the other to steal you away, but they fell into routine again and they’re doing exactly what they wanted to avoid. When Sam saw you with Jake, It probably lit a old fire in him, which is why it all happened so fast.” As much as you wanted the knowledge to give you reassurance, it only made the dread grow even larger.

“I don’t know what to do, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes to ward off the stress headache. You retracted your hand from his, missing the comfort of the hold almost immediately. You brought your fingers to your temples and gently massaged the area, satiating the ache slightly. “I never should have started anything with Jake. I had feelings for Sam. It was selfish, and I know that.”

“I think you had feelings for him, too. Maybe you just didn’t realize it.” He offered. “It’s not like you to start something like that without any reason. Plus, like I said, if you like one of them… history tends to repeat itself.” He said, keeping the truth light.

“If I didn’t, I sure do now.” You let out a humourless laugh, pushing the food around on your plate with your fork. “I feel like I maybe put Sam on a pedestal because I had such a big crush on him. I always thought I was in love with him, but I was never with him. I didn’t know anything beyond the surface, never experienced anything more than friendship. Not even an idea. Now, I’ve been with Jake. I know him, and I feel like maybe what I felt for Sam was just infatuation.”

“Could have been.” He shrugged, unable to answer that one for you.

“But when I’m around him, both of them, actually, they have this pull, like the earth is forcing me into their arms. It’s impossible to think clearly with them around, and I think maybe I just have to take a step back to figure it out.”

“Good luck with that.” He joked, eyes drifting to your phone on the table. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’m pretty sure I have an idea who it is.” You couldn’t deny anything, mostly because you knew he was right. Intermittently, another vibration would sound, and you knew if you picked it up, it would be one of the brothers you were trying so hard to ignore. “I don’t care if you ignore them, as long as I still get to see you. Wouldn’t give up our brunch dates for the world.” He sent a playful wink your way.

“Let’s just run away, get married and have mimosa’s for the rest of our lives on a cute little porch while we watch the sunset.” You grinned. “Don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked. “If I get involved in this, I’m definitely winning.” You both shared a fit of giggles, happy to ease the tension with light jokes. “But seriously, if that’s what you want to do, do it. I know how hard on the head they can be normally, so I can’t imagine what it’s like being in your position.” He sympathized. “It’s not fair to you. I think maybe that’s why Jake tried to be so secretive about it, he wanted to make the move and start something before Sam could get involved. But, it’s like some weird brother thing; they can always tell.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I ignored too many lessons, and the universe is super mad at me right now.” You sighed, your attention grabbed by the waitress dropping another drink off. You mumbled a small thank you before she disappeared again. “I like them both, but I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want to get hurt. The whole thing is fucked up.”

“May I offer my opinion?” He asked, mischief laced in his tone. You gave a nod, figuring that anything would help at this point. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt them nearly as bad as you think.” He assured you. “Yeah, obviously, however this goes, someone is bound to be disappointed, but they’ve been playing this game for years. If you like both of them, play the game with them.”

“Encourage it?” You were in disbelief that he would even suggest it.

“Yep.” He confirmed, no hesitation in his voice. “Listen, they started this whole thing. They think it’s okay to play with your feelings, so play with theirs, instead. Maybe teach them a lesson.” He explained. “Don’t let them run things. You’re in control here, even if you don’t think you are. Have fun with them, and hopefully they’ll see what they’re doing is wrong.”

“You’re evil, Daniel.” You contemplated the idea while finishing your final mimosa, feeling positively tipsy.

“No, just think it’s time they got some karma. They have to learn eventually, they can’t do this for the rest of their lives.” He said, throwing his cutlery and napkins on his plate. “As long as you think you can do it without hurting your own feelings.”

“I’m so pissed off at them that I don’t even care about that.” You chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. The statement was completely truthful.

“So teach them, and then we can eat our brunch in peace. When you do, hopefully they’ll never do it again.” You weren’t expecting Danny to side with you in the matter, but you especially weren’t expecting for him to cheer you on. As you listened to his story of the years he spent dealing with them, you understood why he was telling you to do it. Knowing Danny, you could only assume that there had been many instances where he had to do damage control because of Jake and Sam’s childish behaviour, and he was sick of it. Plus, he seemed quite annoyed with the amount of broken hearts that have ensued because of the brothers tyranny.

Part of you thought it was crazy, that there was no way you could do that to the boys. The other, angrier part of you thought it was a great idea. After only two days of turmoil caused by their behaviour, you were in shambles. Now, knowing that they were completely aware of their own actions, you had no issue handing it right back to them. “Okay.” You agreed. The liquor definitely had an impact on your decision making, but not enough for you to worry about it.

“There. Problem solved.” He smiled. “Maybe that lesson you were dreading wasn’t really your lesson after all.”

You both left the diner with a little more pep in your step than before. Your fears were settled, but not fully resolved. Still, the sense of doom that was looming over you seemed to ease up, and you accredited it solely to Danny. Without his words, you would still be drowning in your own misery. You spotted your car, making a move to get in the drivers seat. As you reached for the handle, you paused yourself, realizing that you were in no state to drive. You reached into your purse, fishing out your keys, and turned to see Danny already holding his hand out for them.

“All yours,” you said, dropping them in his palm. “Forgot.” You let out a giggle.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, sending a playful smile your way. You walked to the other side of the vehicle, getting in to the passenger side. Once you had your seatbelt buckled, he began the journey home. You connected your phone to the speaker, clumsily tapping the screen to unlock it. You hit shuffle on your playlist, not having the mind to scroll through and pick a song.

You turned your head towards the window, letting your eyes take in the sights as you passed by. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, but none stuck out as they passed through. Most were a jumble of topics from the previous day’s events, no coherent nature to them. You wanted to check your missed messages, just to see what they’d been saying, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. You were angry, still, upset that they had no issue involving you in their mess and seemed to have no remorse over it. Even so, the urge to talk to them, to be with them, touched by them, was growing more urgent by the second.

Danny was right; it would be impossible to ignore them. That left you with two choices; play along, or let them play with you and get hurt in the process. You still weren’t certain that the first option would keep your feelings safe, but it was worth a try. Even if it didn’t, hopefully it would ensure neither would pull a stunt like such ever again. “I think I drank too much.” You stated, another giggle laced in your words. He glanced over at you from the drivers seat, giving you a grin.

“Guess that was my fault.” He chuckled.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling softly. “You helped, a lot.”

“I’m glad.” He replied, turning down the street your home was nestled on. “I’m always available for free therapy and alcohol.”

“I always appreciate it. I appreciate you.” You said, watching your driveway creep into sight.

“I appreciate you, bug.” He shot back without missing a beat. The pet name made your heart warm with affection. He really was your best friend, always your biggest comfort and favourite person. Nobody else compared to him, and you hoped that no matter how the situation played out, you’d still have him by your side. A small, selfish part of you wondered why you couldn’t just fall for him; he was funny, sweet, and genuine. Any time spent with him was worth more than the world, and he was beautiful, too. For some reason, it was written in the stars that he was to be your best friend, but that was more than okay. A life with Danny as your best friend was a certain promise of a good one. As much as it sucked dancing with the devil, or the Kiszka brothers, rather, it was meant to be. Even while you wished it away, hoped you could fall out of their grasp and into someone else’s, there was a part of you that loved being loved by them.

He parked your car in its usual spot, getting out to open your door for you. He walked you to the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You both went to the living room, collapsing on the couch with exhaustion, as if you’d just ran a marathon. “You’re stuck here.” You laughed, finally realizing that he didn’t have his own car with him.

“I’ll call a cab, don’t worry.” He assured you, grabbing his phone to do just that. As he found himself busy telling the company the address, you reached over to the chair beside the couch, grabbing the acoustic guitar Jake had been playing earlier that morning. As he hung up the call, you plucked at the strings mindlessly, eventually switching to a chord progression that you had grown to know very well. “Dinner and a show?” He teased, still in awe that you had hidden your talent for so long.

“You know, it would be a lot of fun to come with you guys.” You thought aloud, dismissing his joke.

“You should.” He affirmed your idea. “Even if you just came for a part of the tour.” You let out a low hum, letting him know you heard him without having to respond. Instead of pushing you further, he leaned back into the couch and watched you as you played. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to speak again, you began to sing along to the music, to the song you loved so much. Jake had pegged it as your nickname, and at first it was endearing, but the more you listened to it, the more the words resonated with the ache settled deep in your chest.

“Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave” you looked to the fretboard, feeling the need to focus harder because of the alcohol swarming in your system.

“Heartless challenge, pick your path and I’ll pray

Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down

Lousy lovers pick their prey but they never cry out loud.“

You sang the rest of the song, breathless by the time you were finished. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips, understanding that sooner or later you would agree to their offer. He could tell how badly you wanted to say yes, but your anxiety was holding you back. You were thinking of the offer, too, but something more pressing came to kind in light of the song choice. Or the mimosas. Or both, maybe. You weren’t sure. Either way, Jake Kiszka had inevitably made his appearance in your thoughts once more, but it wasn’t like he had left in the first place. His presence was always existing within your brain somewhere, even if it wasn’t at the forefront.

It was horrid, never being able to escape him, but it was phenomenal all at the same time. In the last twenty-for hours, he helped you feel more alive than you ever had before. His touch was still lingering in your skin, electrifying every nerve. The memory was fantastic, but nothing compared to the real thing. He was addicting; his company was no longer a want, but necessary for survival. You wondered if you would ever be able to live without it, quickly realizing that you never wanted to find out. Before, the thought of not having Jake around was terrifying, but after having him so intimately, the idea was debilitating, stealing the air from your lungs and crushing you under its weight.

“I could listen to you sing all day, but I gotta run.” Danny broke you from your thoughts. “Plans for tonight, can’t get out of them.”

“Cheating on me, Daniel?” You let out a tsk, showing your displeasure. He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Could never do that to you, darling.” He said, as dramatically as possible. You put the guitar to the side, standing up with him so you could give him a proper goodbye. You pulled him into a hug a bit tighter than usual, catching him off guard. It only took him a second to return the gesture, wrapping you in an aura of comfort.

“Thank you for everything. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He assured you. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon?” You nodded, head still pressed to his chest.

“I love you.” You said, parting ways with him. “And yeah, I’ll update you.” You smiled, your secret plan solidified by your words.

“Give them hell.” He said, a tone of pleading hidden in the joke. With a wave, he disappeared around the corner and the front door sounded a moment later. The second the door shut, the emptiness of the home already started to seep in.

You gathered your thoughts, shaking away the haunting feeling of seclusion, and made your way to your bedroom. Once inside, you switched the power on to your record player, resuming whichever vinyl you had left from this morning. You let your eyes flutter closed at the hum of the song cutting through the silence. Another vibration from your phone caught your attention, suddenly remembering the messages you had intended to ignore. Now, with Danny’s words sounding in your mind, and your first chance at alone-time, you channeled a new courage to reply. Your fingers pulled the phone from your pocket, eyes immediately drifting over the screen. There were a few texts from your own band mates, and when they could come over to practice. You made a mental note to respond to them later. You moved on, seeing Sam’s name adorned on a missed call. You opted to focus on him later, your eyes seeking the contact you wanted to deal with first.

The notification bar from Jake had three messages. When you tapped them, you expected to be met with filthy words to fuel your desire to get back at him. Instead, the first was a small message of thanks for letting him stay the night prior, confessing his enjoyment. It was simple, not detailed, but enough to make your heart beat a little faster and a blush to make its way onto your cheeks. The second message was a well wish for your lunch date with Danny, saying he hoped you had a good time. The third was much different, more on par with what you had expected from him.

Jacob

Let me know when you want to share some more secrets, Gold Dust Woman

You felt a surge of emotion rush to your stomach, the words so simple, but the feeling so large. It was so easy to give in to him; he barely had to look your way and you were jumping at the chance to be noticed by him. It was crazy how fast the dynamic changed, how quickly he became so important to you. Without a second thought, you were already typing a response.

You

What kind of secrets would you like me to share, Jacob?

You hit send, not expecting a response considering you had waited so long to reply. Before you could even shut the screen off, the text bubble appeared on the screen, signifying his presence in the chat. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, happy to see that he was on your hook just as much as you were on his.

Jacob

I can think of a few

You

I’m sure you can. Care to elaborate?

His response was almost immediate, as if he’d pre-typed the words in anticipation of your question.

Jacob

Still wearing that red thong from earlier, or was that just to show off?

You enacted a plan as soon as the text was delivered and you processed what it said. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly shimmying out of your clothes and discarding them on the floor. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, your decisions heavily reliant on the false confidence the champagne bestowed upon you. You retrieved your phone, making a move to stand before the mirror on the opposite side of your room. You pulled up your camera, taking a few pictures from different angles, clearly showcasing the red fabric he was so curious about. The pictures that included the matching bra was just out of generosity.

You sifted through the pictures in your camera roll, picking the ones you thought were the best. You swiped back into his chat, reading his message over again. Instead of saying anything else, you sent the few photos you deemed acceptable. You went to the kitchen, unable to find a care to put your clothes back on, and turned your phone screen off. You scoured the fridge, finding a bottle of wine unopened and patiently awaiting your arrival. As you poured yourself a glass, you listened to the repetitive vibrations of incoming text messages. You looked to the clock on the wall, noting the time. Then, you took a seat in a chair and enjoyed the beverage you had fixed for yourself.

After a few moments, the texts ceased, leaving you to sit in silence and ponder your actions. You sipped away at the bitter liquid, refusing to give in to the temptation of answering him. When your glass was half empty, the vibrations resumed. This time, it was an incoming call. The ticking of the clock caught your attention, realizing you’d left him on edge for about fifteen minutes. You figured if you let it go much longer, he would show up at your front door. The thought itself wasn’t terrible, and you certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but you decided you wouldn’t push him that far. His incoming call ended, but it wasn’t long before another one sounded. With a smile on your lips, you picked up your phone and accepted his attempt to reach you.

“Hi,” you said, cheerily, as if you had no idea he had been blowing up your phone. “What’s up?”

“Ignoring me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, no angry tone or hint of annoyance. The soft inquiry sent a rush of arousal through you, just knowing that you had bothered him so badly was enough to send you spiralling.

“Why would I do that?” You asked, tipsiness laced in your voice. He picked up on it almost immediately, thinking your new-found confidence was a result of the alcohol. In truth, he wasn’t completely wrong. Although you and Danny had devised the plan, the execution was heavily reliant on intoxication. For some reason, sobriety did not help your case with either brother. Their charm and wit held you in a chokehold, any time you had the courage to retaliate, they made another move to make you submit. Despite your lack of control, it was still quite enjoyable. Now that tables had turned, that he was the one sitting and thinking about you and slowly driving himself to insanity, you had to admit that it was enjoyable, too. Maybe even more so, if you had to choose.

“Don’t be a tease, angel.” He hummed, the sound of his voice through the phone sending a shiver through you. You thought you might give in, throw the act away and beg for him to come over, but you bit your tongue and powered through.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to see, baby.” You played innocent, taking another sip of wine to keep the spirits high. Your head was buzzing, swimming with many thoughts. Most were filthy, focused mainly on how badly you wished he was in front of you, rather than on the phone. It was ridiculous how fast he consumed your entire being. Thoughts of his hands, his tongue, and how good they felt when they were on you. You missed him, even if you opted not to say it aloud. It had only been a few hours, but it was much too long for your liking. “Was that what you wanted, Jacob?”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, bothered by your use of the pet name, bothered by the sultry tone you were speaking in. A smirk formed on the corner of your lips, cocky enough to know that you had power over him, too. “Yeah, it was, baby.” He conceded, unwilling to argue the point. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He stated, not willing to let you off the hook so easily.

“What was your question?” You asked, one last attempt to get under his skin. He let in a long breath, trying his best to stay calm while you made it a point to piss him off.

“Why were you ignoring me, angel?” He was heavy on the terms of endearment, leaving you unsure if it was because they were genuine, or if he was using them to coerce an answer from you.

“Wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie to him. “Did it work?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled his response wordlessly. Even without an explicit affirmation, you could tell it did just by his tone change. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “Didn’t know you were such a brat.” He noted.

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.” You snipped back almost immediately. He let out a chuckle, but it wasn’t because he thought your words were humorous. It radiated a tone of shock, as if he was trying to tell you that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned. “Don’t make me come over there and fuck that attitude out of you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You teased. He could hear the smile on your lips through your words, making it difficult for him to keep up with the act. He found your joy infectious, and the teasing fun, in a greater sense than just sexual. He enjoyed all conversations shared with you, even if there was no sexual gratification. He just loved being around you.

“I would, but I don’t think you would.” He said, simple enough to get the point across, but powerful enough to worsen the growing ache between your legs.

“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You theorized, throwing his own idea back in his face. If only he knew how badly you lived to please him, his previous accusations of sadism would be laughable.

“You’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was soothing, even if the topic was filthy. You could listen to him speak all night and never get bored. He was devastatingly perfect, and he made it easier to fall for him every time he opened his mouth. Without thought, you opened your mouth to speak, letting the wine take control of the conversation.

“I miss you.” The statement was quiet, but impactful. In reality, the three words were barely loud enough to catch a normal listeners attention, but the sound was deafening, to him. When you were met with silence, a fizzle of regret formed in your chest, wondering if you took it too far. You would take it back, pretend you never said it or bury it so deep down that could never surface again, just to ensure he wouldn’t hang up the phone; the last thing you wanted was to scare him away.

Although drunk, your feelings were true. You did miss him: you wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever, whether it be just with basic comfort or with sexual nature. You didn’t care, as long as he was with you. In three days, his presence had not only caught your attention, but made home within the walls of your house. Feelings for him were blossoming from every angle, immersing you within them and tying you down with their roots. It only took three days for Jake to make you a fool for him, three days to produce a feeling that rivalled your feelings for Sam. If you thought you were in too deep before, you were drowning, now.

That’s the funny thing about love; it cares little about who it’s next victim is, only about the fatalities it leaves in its wake.

Despite equal consent to the game, fatality was most definitely the prize. By choosing to be ignorant to risk, all three of you willingly sealed your own fate. No amount of repent could save you from the consequences. Deep down, you were well aware of that fact, but the sin was so pleasurable that it no longer mattered.

“I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” The words only solidified your desire to ignore the risk. It was the most beautiful statement you had ever heard, and it was laced with sincerity. Imbedded with so much emotion that it made your head spin, wondering if it was even possible for someone to speak with such unwavering clarity. As if he, too, realized the extent of his vulnerability, he quickly spoke to cover it. “I miss being inside you, more.” The sweet tone quickly turned into one of desire, but both of you knew it was a lie. He desperately missed the mornings activities, his arms wrapped around your waist with a kiss placed to your neck while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Smiling and laughing, singing along and poorly dancing to the hum of the record player. Taking turns playing guitar for each other, him dedicating every song to you but leaving it unspoken. He missed the moments of silence, more comfortable than any other, where he could hear your breathing steady while your eyes fluttered closed, enticed by the idea of falling back into a slumber. He missed the fleeting feeling of you being his, and his alone. Even if the idea wasn’t wholly truthful, he liked to pretend it was.

And in a way, you were. Every part of you belonged to him in some sense, even if other forces were trying to pull you away. But neither of you would ever speak those thoughts aloud, scared of the same things, even if the ones you focused on were not the biggest threats. Instead, you played along, sad that he felt the need to discredit such a genuine confession, but relieved that you didn’t have to explain your own. You both fell in step with the devil once again, ignoring the ache in your hearts and covering it with animalistic attraction and half-truths. If only you could both hear how loud he was laughing, pleased that you carried on just how the devil intends.

“You know there’s always a place for you between my legs, baby.” You whispered, the low tone shaking him to his core, settling in his bones and breaking them under the weight of the statement. It was unspoken that the confessions of emotion would be ignored, as always. It was just the way things were. You could practically hear his need for you through the phone, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Is that what you want?” He posed the question in a derogatory manner, as if he was trying to make you to feel shameful for wanting him so badly. You could see through it, knowing that he just wanted to hear you admit your desperation for him. “You want me, baby?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. As you realized that, you also realized how badly you wished you could see him. Before responding any further, you clicked the FaceTime icon on his contact. Within seconds, he accepted. The screen lit up with his face, immediately giving you a sense of relief. You took in the sight, noting he was sitting in his living room. You had only been to his apartment a handful of times, but you knew it well enough to recognize it. “Hi,” you smiled, almost forgetting the nature of the conversation.

“Hi, beautiful.” He disregarded the vulgarity for a moment, too, just so he could admire you. The blush that spread across your cheeks caused a smile to break out on his lips, too. He noted the wine glass in the frame before his eyes inevitably landed on your attire, the adoration in his eyes quickly fading into lust. The distant look let you know that he was already imagining what was beneath the flimsy red fabric. Remembering what lie beneath. As much as his expression enticed you, you couldn’t let him get away with it without making a comment.

“Eyes up here, Jacob.” You scolded, catching his attention again.

“Expect me not to stare when you look like that?” He asked, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Sadist.” He smirked, the word bouncing between you both, accompanied by pointed fingers and accusatory tones. Perhaps both of you were the sadists by continuing your entanglement without caution or worry about the future.

“I know how much you love the red, but I think you’ll love what’s underneath it, more.” You said, eyes never leaving his face. You could see the muscle in his jaw tense at the thought, proving you were correct.

“I think red is your colour, sweetheart.” He noted, disregarding your words. As bad as he wanted you to remove the clothing, he’d be caught dead before admitting you were right. “Sit back, baby. Let me see the rest of you.” The order was firm, making sure you knew that it was not a request. You propped your phone against the wine bottle, obeying the instructions and leaning back in your chair, allowing him a better view. He let out a sigh, content with the sight of your mostly exposed upper body.

“Like this?” You asked, bringing your hand to your chest and gently running your fingers over the edge of the cup on your bra, gently pulling it down in the process. It was enough to tease him, but not enough to show him what he was hoping to see. You let your finger linger for a second before releasing the hold. The fabric drifted back to its original position and you let your fingers trail down your bare torso.

“Just like that.” He affirmed, visibly bothered by the show you were putting on. “Be a good girl and take that off for me.” His plea was covered with dominance in attempt to hide his neediness, but it wasn’t working. Part of you wanted to give into the request; with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to want to deny him of anything. But, that little devil in your head was as angry as ever, now fuelled by the knowledge Danny had given you.

“Come over and take it off yourself.” You replied, trying to remain unbothered by his pet names. His eyes flashed with discontent, fed up with your continuous disobedience.

“You want me to come over?” He asked, playing into whatever game you were trying to start with him. You gave a nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation for much longer. “You need someone to take care of that ache between your legs? To make you feel so good that you can’t remember your own name?” His tone was soft, sympathetic almost, but the flame ablaze behind his pupil and the slight tension in his jaw led you to believe he was being quite misleading.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, ignoring your worry about his honesty. The arousal pooling between your legs was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like a constant, dull pain that would eventually drive you crazy. Something about Jake always led you to believe that life without him would lead you to the brink of insanity. The constant talk of want, or desire was quite minimal compared to how you truly felt about him. Necessity was closer to correct, depending on his touch more than your own heartbeat to keep you alive.

“You need someone to take care of that pretty little cunt,” he deducted, taking in a long breath at the sound of his own words. He was just as worked up as you, debating throwing his plan in the garbage and getting in his car that instant. “And you know I’m the only one who knows how to do it right.” He finished, finding the strength to stay seated and continue his merciless taunts.

“Please come over, baby. I need you so bad.” The words slipped out easier than any you had said before, the strength you had to endure his words was breaking apart every time he opened his mouth.

“I know, angel.” He hummed, soothing you for just a moment. You thought he was going to give in, to tell you he would be there in a minute, but when he spoke again, you wish you’d never started the battle in the first place. “I want to help you out, but you haven’t been very good for me. Being a tease doesn’t get you what you want, baby. You know that.”

“Jake, please. I’m sorry.” You begged, that feeling of familiar dread filling your stomach. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“If I give you what you want, you won’t learn anything.” The irritation that grew from the smirk he was wearing was unbearable. You couldn’t genuinely believe that after the entire call, he would have the nerve to deny either of you the pleasure of spending another night together. “Go take care of yourself, sweetheart. Just think of me when you do.” Your teeth were clenched, frustrated that your efforts seemed to have no effect on him.

“Just come over, baby.” You tried once more, but his mind was made up.

“If you do what I say and behave, I might come and see you later.” So that was his plan; like always, he was willing to give in, but he felt the need to ensure you would suffer, first. “Another picture might help, too.” He sent a wink your way, so subtle that you almost missed it. Before you had a chance to respond, he had ended the call and you were met with the disappointing sight of your screensaver, wishing you had one more minute to admire the sight of his face.

You had two options: deal with the issue yourself, wait it out and hope he would feel generous enough to pay you a visit after a while, or call a cab and go to him, first. As much as the second option was tempting, you knew if you did so, it would only fuel his ego even further. He was well aware of the power he held over you, and running to him would only solidify the idea in his mind. Waiting to see if he would come over might do the same, but at least you would have the upper hand. By the time he showed up, your overwhelming need for him would have time to simmer. Then, you could give him a taste of his own medicine.

So you sat, sipping away at your wine, thinking that it wouldn’t be too difficult to wait it out. The closer the bottle got to empty, the more confident you felt about the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, you could be, too. His request for more pictures would go unanswered, and he would have to give in. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of the power you had over him, too. Confidence did not equal satisfaction, though. You nursed the last of your wine until he showed up, or until you found something better to do, quickly realizing that time would not satisfy your craving for him. With every minute that passed, you hoped the feeling would fizzle away, but the more you ignored it, the worse it seemed to get.

Eventually, as you drained the last few drops of your glass for the second time (you had to make sure it was completely empty, of course), you heard a knock sound at the front door. A jolt of energy surged through you, realizing you had won the battle without putting any effort in at all. You stood, leaving the empty bottle on the table for decoration, and wasted no time following the sound of the knock. When you reached the front door, you ran your hand through your hair, straightening yourself out to look the best you could for him. Before opening the door, you ever so slightly peeked through the blinds.

In your drunken state, it seemed blatantly obvious that it was Jake standing outside. The tuft of brown hair that caught your eye was so familiar, immediately showering you with relief. But, if you looked for a moment longer, you might have clued in that opening the door in your current attire was a mistake. Had sobriety been in the question, you would have noticed the distinctive difference, how the body was taller, a bit more slender than the boy you were looking for. Maybe, it was possible you did notice, but we’re too blinded by excitement to cognitively understand that Jake was not the one knocking on your door. You wished to see him so badly that you overlooked any possibility of it not being him standing there.

When the door creaked open, you had a smirk on your lips, ready to throw his bluff back in his face. Instead of grasping the feeling of satisfaction for Jake’s failure, dread bled into every nerve in your body. It took a moment for both of you to understand exactly what scene you had found yourself in, but when you came back from the shock, you couldn’t even find the right words to express how you were feeling. Your limbs were frozen, unable to shut the door again and your heart was stuck in your throat. Sam’s wide eyes and parted lips showcased his matching emotions, also void of a proper response. Even in his complete surprise, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze drifting over every exposed part of you that was offered. If you wanted to be dramatic, you could even go as far as to say he was drooling at the sight of you.

After a moment of staring, you took a step to the side, covering as much of you as possible behind the solid door. “Do you greet everyone like that, or am I interrupting something?” He said, clearing his throat, joking to subtly to pass off his blatant gawking.

“Um, no… and no, I guess.” You squeaked, cheeks red enough to match the fabric that was barely concealing you.

“Expecting someone else?” The corner of his lip upturned into a smirk, finding humour in the awkward moment. He knew you were likely expecting his brother, but his cockiness allowed him to use the knowledge to his advantage.

“No,” you said after a long bout of silence, trying to sound confident. The alcohol was sending the devil in your head into a drunken rampage. Your plan to play into their game was bouncing around within your skull, urging you to take the embarrassing greeting and make it into something better. If Jake wasn’t willing to give you what you needed, you were sure that Sam would have no problem helping you out. If they wanted to involve you in their mess, you should have no issue using it for your own benefit. You were both playing with fire, but the heat was gradual; welcoming at first, and only burning you after the fact, once you were too far in to turn around.

“So I showed up at the perfect time, then?” Your anxiety washed away, even finding yourself able to produce a genuine smile at his ridiculously childish response. Your eyes drifted over his face, taking in the details of his expression. He had recovered from his nervous state, too, but his eyes were still glistening with appreciation at the beauty of you before him. You could have shut the door, turned him away with an apology and let the memory die, but his beauty was captivating, and you were drawn in by the way he was watching you. If you had found yourself in the situation with a lower blood-alcohol content, the whole thing would have been ridiculous and terribly wrong. Maybe it was the wine, or the brunch conversations that lead you to the conclusion in which you were headed towards. It didn’t matter, anyway, because you had already made up your mind. You didn’t want to turn him away; you were eager to let him inside.

“I think so.” You agreed, playing into him.

“Red’s your colour, princess.” He noted, trying to catch another glimpse of what you were trying to hide from him without being too obvious. Just another blatant show that Sam and Jake were in fact brothers, and brothers indeed. Too alike for their own good, and too foolish to see the problem. “You should wear it more often.” His voice was quiet, much different than his usual chipper tone that sounded through an entire room. You had never heard him speak in such a way, except for the small moment shared in your kitchen. It was enticing, perfectly alluring and dangerously gratifying.

“You should come in,” you stated, not as a request, but a fact. He watched you for a moment, attempting to convince himself that you were serious and not just pulling his leg. When you kept your composure, no hint of anything other than a genuine nature, he made a move towards you. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind him with little thought.

Perhaps too much carelessness for such a grave decision that would ultimately seal your fate.

Lousy lovers pick their prey

but they never cry out loud

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter: Chapter 16

A/N: finally, a chapter worth posting. This one is so much better than the last two or three i've posted. Sorry guys, I've totally lost track of time, its been two weeks since the last chapter ive posted... this is a longer one so hopefully it will suffice. Thank yall so much for reading, feedback is much appreciated :)

Taglist: @abbiesxox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99

word count: 1.3k

Reader pov:

You and your father have silently agreed to just let go of what happened during the commute to the grocery store. The two of you have not talked about the topic since, and you were grateful for it. You headed for the doors to get outside the base, as you had decided earlier that a morning run should do the trick for your sluggish start to the day. It seems you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Barely making conversation at breakfast, feeling irritated and put off by everything. Even the sound of Gaz breathing when you sat next to him in the mess hall made you want to choke him out.

You breathed in deeply, savoring the crispy winter air as it's freezing tendrils circled your lungs. You sighed and were about to get moving when you heard a gruff noise behind you.

It was Ghost, clearing his throat.

You turned towards him, a quizzical look crossing your features.

"I've tracked you across the whole bloody base," he said, in a gravely, morning voice.

"And?" You said, annoyed. You didn't feel like talking to anyone not even your mysterious crush.

"And, a good soldier should know to watch their damn six."

"Yeah, in the field," you roll your eyes.

"Someone's pissy this morning, I thought we were on good terms now?" He chuckled

"I just... sorry- you didn't do anything wrong-" he cut you off.

"I know," he smirked.

"... just bad nights sleep I guess," you glared, finishing your sentence.

"Where are you headed?" his voice softened slightly, but his gaze still remained rigid and judgy.

"Out for a run."

"You don't mind if I join do you?"

You raised and eyebrow at his suggestion

"What? i'm not supposed to be friendly with my teammates ever?"

"I-I...no...I don't mind," you said skeptically.

The two of you took off at a quick pace, you were surprised that the lieutenant could keep up despite the skull balaclava covering his nose and mouth, as well as his large, toned build.

"You run often?" you ask.

"Mmm... when I was a kid I got in trouble a lot. I had to make a quick getaway sometimes."

"Who was chasing you... the law?"

"Eh, sometimes," he said, nonchalantly.

"Well, what kind of trouble?" you asked, not knowing whether to be concerned or intrigued.

"Dumb, teenage shit. You know, smashing windows... drinking... smoking, anything to get me out of the house really. I matured eventually."

"And now your in the military, the irony," you paused. "You know, I really wouldn't have guessed that you were so... unruly as a kid, Mister 'im so strict and tough," you laughed.

He gave a chuckle in response.

"Mhm, my teenage years were pretty lawless... probably can't say the same for you, Price's kid," he smirked.

"Ah you got me there... I did get into a little trouble though."

"Really...?"

"I dabbled with boys mostly..."

This made Simon's heart rate quicken, the thought of you with other guys, but then he reminded himself that you were a teenager at the time.

"Boys? I'm sure the captain wasn't very fond of that"

"Oh hell no... he always chased 'em away. I never could keep a boyfriend for very long. No matter how secretive I was he always found out."

Noted Ghost thought to himself.

Ghost laughs, "Yup, sounds like ol' cap."

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Ghost thinks about your love life.

"You...you don't happen to have any of those men in your life now... do you?" he asks quietly.

"I uhm....uh...well... no," You respond, a bit flustered.

"Good, otherwise i'd have to tell cap" He added, voice stronger and more confident while trying to play the question off as a joke.

You two were almost back to the base now, as you finished at the doors Ghost spoke up again as he swung the door open for you.

"It's about time for our daily training now, good timing."

You nodded as you stepped through the door into the pleasantly warm building. You walked down to the training facilities with him.

"Lets do some lifting," Ghost suggested.

You groaned in protest, dragging your feet as your lieutenant led you into the gym. You went through a few sets, bench press, curls, a few ab exercises, and finally some squats. By the time you were ready to start squatting, your body was exhausted, especially your legs considering you ran beforehand. Ghost looked at you with a slight bit of sympathy.

"Lets just do two sets of eight for this one alright Y/N?"

"Thank you, G-Ghost," you sputtered as you struggled to keep the bar level as you got into your first squat.

You wobbled, your legs quivered as you raised yourself back up into a standing postion.

One

You shook even more on the way down the second time, Ghost noticed this and left the wall he was leaning up against. He stood behind you with his hands open, ready to steady the bar if needed.

down, up

Two

By the third rep, the bar was so far away from being level on your shoulders your whole body tipped to the right. Luckily, Ghost caught you and lifted the bar off your shoulders before you could fall. He put the bar back on the rack and took a few pounds off of it while you sat down for a moment.

"If you're not okay enough to finish we can be done here," Ghost told you. His words were sympathetic but his voice was void of emotion, it was hard to gauge weather he was disappointed in your failure to finish the set or if he was concerned for you.

Ghost pov:

Goddamnit, she totally felt that.

I stood in front of Y/N while she sat down for a moment to catch her breath. I had to get the bar off of her before she hurt herself, but in the process I had pressed myself against her by accident. Which in return gave me a little problem... down there. Forever grateful to my mask for saving my ass once again, I tried to exert calmness towards Y/N while she rested. I desperately hoped that she would be done now that she was almost crushed by the weight.

"No, I'd like to finish out the set at least," she responded to my question.

"You sure? no shame in calling it quits to avoid injury," I responded in a warmer tone than before.

"Yeah, I've got it," she reassured me, more strength in her voice now.

Again, I positioned myself behind her to spot her. Only this time, a half step further back, not forgetting about my hard on. I'm not going to lie, It was tough to just stand there silently while she got her reps in. All I wanted to do was praise her, to tell her what a good job she was doing. I wanted to see her smile when I told her she did something right, I just wanted to make her happy.

"Good work," I managed to say when she got all eight reps in.

She told me goodbye and turned to leave. I watched her walk away, she took a few steps before I couldn't help myself.

"Wait!"

She turned around.

"I enjoyed running with you this morning... really- it was nice. Thank you for letting me go with you."

Her face broke into a genuine smile.

"Thank you for coming with me, it was nice to see you more informal... you know, outside of all the work stuff."

When she walked off again, I couldn't help but get all giddy and boyish. I felt like a teenager swooning over his crush at school.

fucking hell, Y/N enjoyed my company.

Reader pov:

When you left the gym and were sure that no one could see you, you damn near squealed for joy.

He liked running with me!

Ghost

My lieutenant

The guy I like

[thewickerking]

mutual 1: WDYM none of you have heard explosion gun ???? theyre from the 1930s, sure but they literally made the best song ever [long title or series of numbers that have no meaning]

mutual 2: hey guys can you fill out this survey for my class? its about 15 minutes and it would mean a lot!! i love you

mutual 3: ughhhhh can this guy stop flirting with me? i told him to kill himself after he said [horrifically racist sentence] and he hasnt gotten the hint

mutual 4: im liveblogging a game from 12 years ago if you dont want spoilers im tagging my posts about it as #plwm3 liveblog !!

mutual 5: [poll] should i brutally murder this oc before or after he gets divorced

mutual 6: ok I knowwww im learning 6 languages rn but it would be so fun to learn russian.....

mutual 7: what do you mean you freaks dont dip your bananas in orange juice??? This is literally so normal why are you call me the weird one

mutual 8: just finished meeting up with mutual 9 irl it was so fun im gonna miss you now that you're home again </3

mutual 9: mutual 8 locked me in a basement for 4 hours and played clown music. i wish i couldve stayed longer

mutual 10: OMG THE NEW TRAILER FOR BRIMBLUS JUST DROPPED?????? EVERYONEEE LOOOOOOOK

mutual 11: my dad got me a milkshake breakdown cancelled everyone 🎉🎉

mutual 12: this post reminds me of *******

mutual 13: mutual ^ is talking about scorblo btw

mutual 12: HEY???? MUTUAL 13???? CAN YOU KILL YOURSELF????

mutual 14: [describes the most horrific repeated childhood trauma] but idk if im allowed to say i have mental illness cause im not diagnosed

mutual 15: guys do you think im more blue or purple coded :3

mutual 16: in response to all the transformers fandom callout calling me lesbophobic and racist: [ten paragraphs that make it clear they're clearly the only normal person in this scenario]

mutual 17: wait you guys are actually going to pumpkin patches? i thought those were made up ive never seen a pumpkin irl before...

mutual 18: guys can anybody see me. Please. No one's responding am I shadowbanned or do you all hate me [they're shadowbanned]

mutual 19: ugh this one customer keeps brutally murdering our servers at the restaurant i work at i wanna quit sooo bad but i might get promoted soon so idk

mutual 20: [reblogs a web weaving post about judas] UGH i need to fuck him sloppy style and **** ****** ***** **** *** ***

mutual 21: spam reblogs a genshin character

mutual 22: [screenshot of mutual 21s blog with filtered tags of the characters] you're lucky i care about you so much.

mutual 23: i think im losing my grip on reality. omg wait but look at this cute dog i saw walking home the other day

mutual 24: hi everyone! i just got back from a 6 month social media break :) hope everyones been doing well!

[t4transsexual]

have you ever dated cis women? when did you decide to be t4t?

i have dated a couple of cis women, one for a little while and we didnt get on because she was one of those fems who doesnt want their butch/masc/transmasc partner to have feelings and needs and also didnt want me to say no to sex and we didnt last long because i was deeply unhappy with her

as for when i decided to be t4t, i guess its probably about time i open up about the specific instance(s) that lead to me deciding to be exclusively t4t, because i havent actually talked about what pushed me to make the shift into exclusively dating trans people. i was trying to run a more positive page and frankly i wasnt really ready to talk about this so publicly, especially with the terf/transphobe interaction i get almost all the time on this account, but i figure i can now and ill probably turn off replies if i can figure out how

tw for graphic description of sexual assault and transphobia under the cut

when i started medically transitioning, i decided to try dating guys again. keep in mind i had a lot of comphet before deciding i was t4t; i basically only really beat that around 2022 when i turned 20. and i matched with a cis guy on tinder, who looked like he had a lot of personality judging by his photos i was 18, almost 19 at the time

literally the first thing this man says to me, after i tell him im trans, is "oh, cool, i love femboys." red flag #1. i said, "im not a femboy, i present masculinely, dont call me that." he apologized, and we moved on

at some point, we're talking about sex. he says hes very subby and a size queen. all fine, i told him i was a stone top/dom, i didnt really like experiencing penetration and it was painful for me due to a condition i had at the time. he says thats fine, everythings good. this will be important later

later, he tells me he told his parents i was trans. i asked him why, given that he both didnt ask me first and said his parents were transphobic. he says "my mom asked, was i just supposed to lie?" i say, yes. he apologizes, i /really/ want to call the whole thing off at this point but he seemed nice enough that maybe he just didnt know trans dating as well as i did

the entire relationship, he just says transphobic shit. he told me that he "understood why people didnt want to date trans people, because its a lot of baggage." he was an active alcoholic by the way. and also dating a trans person. he would neg me for being trans and then turn around and say that i was such a hot guy. he even misgendered me one time, and got upset at me for getting pissed about it, and made me believe i was overreacting. he made me believe that he was doing me a favor by ever dating me

at some point, we're at my parents house, and he tells me he wants to fuck me with his penis. i tell him no, that i dont want to, that i dont know about it, that im scared, pretty much anything i can say to get him to reconsider, but he argued and said itd be good for me and that i can choose which hole but it became very clear to me that i had no choice. so i said he could fuck my pussy

it was excruciating. it hurt so bad, but i knew i couldnt say no. he couldnt stay hard unless he was degrading me and i didnt want him to, so he kept making me jerk him off so he could keep raping me

eventually he stopped, and i wasnt even really aware i had been raped at first. ive been sexually abused by several people in my life and generally it has taken me a while to accept when ive been sexually abused by a person. so we kept dating like normal, long distance btw, but my mental health was deteriorating. i was suicidal for the first time in a while. i was self harming again. i couldnt stop thinking about killing myself.

eventually, he breaks up with me for being suicidal. he says im guilt tripping him or something, i dont remember. and that was december of 2021

we go no contact. i still dont realize he raped me. but i knew that there was something deeply wrong in the way our relationship was

right after him, i dated a trans woman who we went to the same high school. just the difference in how i was treated by her than by him, with her she treated me like i was an actual equal in the relationship. with him, he felt he was superior to me; like he "owned" me, or something

we broke up, we werent really compatible, but when i got with her, she taught me what being t4t was, and the implicit understanding and the comfort and safety i felt. after we broke up was when i decided i didnt like men, and still remained t4t after

i realized what he did to me was rape nearly a year later. he correctively raped me for being a stone top, more specifically, and i dont think he wouldve been "empowered" to rape me if i was a cis man, or even a cis woman. i understand that the "off" feeling i felt throughout that relationship was because he, as a cis person, felt superior over me as a trans person, and felt that if he wanted to fuck me, i shouldnt get a say. he talked about doing other actions to me that i didnt want done at the time, certainly not by him, and if we werent long distance, he probably wouldve raped me several more times

being with my current girlfriend, we click in a way that i havent felt with any cis person, the women included. she definitely isnt going to rape me for being trans. ive undergone physical therapy so that if i ever got raped again, it wouldnt hurt as bad, and it worked and ive actually enjoyed bottoming (consensually) with my girlfriend. she makes me feel very safe, and we understand each other and each others needs as trans people very well, and being with her has helped me process the time i was raped, and the several other times ive been sexually abused by other people

now that ive had time to process these things, i would say that i dont feel the same way around trans people (including me) dating cis people anymore. when i first started this account, i wouldve never admitted this then btw, i fully did not think trans people should date cis people, because i had fostered such a deep distrust of cis people as a result of that whole relationship and assault. i believed cis people would always be bad partners to trans people, but i dont believe that anymore. in the very unlikely circumstance i find myself single again, i may even consider dating a cis woman again. but probably not, because ive grown to really like the implicit understanding that we as trans people get with other trans people

thats why im t4t, and when i became t4t was around the beginning of 2022

[prinnamon]

How do you feel about the BMS Hev Suit? It's my personal favorite design out of every appearance but I can see why people would be upset with the creative liberties Crowbar Collective took with the design.

-LHLP

OHH this is such a good question to get in my askbox... one that immediately made me boot up Black Mesa so i could get screenshots to answer with. im smiling. im grinning

it's probably pretty easy to figure out that my favorite model is the one from the PS2 port, & i think i knew from previous posts on your blog that the BMS suit was your favorite. i love Black Mesa (2015) as a game but sadly, and im very sorry to say it, i do not love the HEV suit from that game :'] it has qualities that i like, but overall it misses the mark for me!

oh, that was an accidental pun. misses the Mark... like the Mark IV HEV suit. hehe

i'm going to put the rest of this post under a read more... i don't say anything suggestive under the cut unless you count like 1 very tame passing remark about the Mk V's hip plates. but this is quite a long and rambling post because i think about the HEV suit so much & want to be in one so bad & have taken a costume visual development class so i ended up having a ton to say ^_^ !!!

i think i was a tad biased against the BMS suit from the beginning when my good friend who started playing Black Mesa before i did pointed out that it looks less like a Mk IV and more like "a modified Mk V." i think it was right on the mark with that comment, and that's probably the source of most the things that irk me about the suit

pictured, in order: HL1 suit, PS2 suit, HL2 suit, BMS suit

i know the HL1 and PS2 renders being in 3/4 view while the HL2 and BMS suits are viewed straight on is unhelpful since this is meant to be a direct comparison, but i'm getting these images (excluding my own Black Mesa screenshot) from Combine Overwiki, which doesn't have a 3/4 view for the Mk V or a front view of either of the Mk IVs!

when you look at them all next to one another, it's pretty clear how the BMS model uses the Mk V as a base as opposed to upscaling one of the Mk IVs or creating one from scratch based on its prior iterations in games and promotional art. i have nothing against the Mk V, but the Mk IV is my true love. to me, the BMS suit is like the Mk V with a Mk IV coat of paint.

however! i do want to rattle off a couple things i feel the BMS suit got super correct. the accordion joints look exactly as they should. they're all the same color (it irks me a little in the HL1 model and promotional art when some of them look more copper/red while some of them are black), and they're present on both the elbows and torso where they belong (HL1 doesn't have them in either area and PS2 is just missing accordion joints on the elbows). i adore how and metallic they look in the PS2 model, but it raises some questions about what material they're made from and whether such a material would actually be both flexible and durable. in BMS they look like they're made of a tough synthetic fabric, and that makes perfect practical sense.

and, really, i have to stress that none of my complaints matter all that much, because Black Mesa positively nails what is objectively the most important part of the suit: the gloves. after the HEV suit's introductory scene and all the way up until Xen, you don't see any part of it but the hands and forearms since the game is in first person. and the hands and forearms are perfect. i don't think the player character's hands have ever looked better in a half-life game. incredibly nice to look at, i think.

it knocked those elements out of the part. i have a bunch of nitpicks about other aspects of the design which don't appeal to me as much as the other iterations of the Mk IV!

most of the areas that were shiny and silver in the original Mk IV have been replaced with a black material that has a more matte texture. it could very well still represent metal, but it's always looked to me more like hard plastic or vinyl. i really like the appearance of the Mk IV's shiny metal parts, probably because i love the texture of metal in real life and it looks like it would feel so so so nice to touch. the change of material is a downgrade for me :[

additionally, some of the elements which felt really three-dimensional in the PS2 model look flatter in the BMS model. i liked all the visible grooves and seams of the PS2 model. by comparison, in Black Mesa, those details either look sanded down or are entirely absent. i think this is most evident on the lower half. the vents on the outer part of the thigh plating take up significantly less surface area, and they also look quite a bit flatter. the boots are missing all the detail they used to have, without even the orange plating on the top of the foot. it just... looks like it'd be less fun to run my hands along, because there's fewer unique textures, fewer seams you could trace with your fingers.

the control panel... it really is just slapped in the empty space left under the lambda logo in the Mk V. i love the way the buttons are set deeper into the chestplate in the PS2 model. In BMS, it's level with the rest of the chestplate and has raised buttons. seems like that'd make it easier for them to be pressed accidentally, which would pose some practical problems. and the black and silver part under the control panel... there just isn't any basis for that in any of the art or models of the Mk IV except i possibly in the HL1 promo art of Gordon Freeman if you squint.

i find the level of detail in the greaves kinda disappointing, but to tell the truth, i don't think i like the lower legs of *any* of the suits, so now i'm not even truly complaining about a problem unique to the BMS suit. the ideal HEV suit greaves exist only in my mind. the two silver pieces in the front, though... i really think they need to be interpreted as some kind of closure, or else they're just purposeless greebles. on the Mk V, the function of these metal pieces is not evident based on their appearance, so that area ends up looking confusing and visually cluttered. this is carried over almost 1:1 to the BMS suit. every HEV design kinda breaks down when you think about how it would be put on and taken off, but looking at the front of the greaves on the Mk V and BMS suit *really* reminds me of the fact that this armor just does not make a lot of sense

lastly, i think this is probably a less a popular opinion, but from a design standpoint i do prefer what i've heard people refer to as the "metal diaper" situation in the HL1 and PS2 models over what the BMS suit has going on down there. essentially, they've stolen the Mk V's love handles and then put a sort of rounded flat piece over the groin area that has always felt out of place to me. it doesn't speak to any other part of the design; it's not echoed in any other area/element (which is the same gripe i have whenever a suit design's accordion joints aren't consistent).

i think that's most of if not all my issues with it! to be honest, i really don't think i *have* seen a perfect HEV suit model in any official or unofficial Half-Life game. i'm in love with the PS2 model, but i still think there's things wrong with the greaves on that one, and none of the suits has any visual indication of how a wearer gets in or out. a lot of my dislike for the BMS suit in particular is because i'm a massive fan of the Mk IV, so to see a suit that purports to be the Mk IV when it really has more in common with the Mk V is a disappointment. like i said, though, you really don't see much of the suit in-game, and the gloves are spot-on, so the model achieves the main goal it needs to achieve. i just can't get into it as much as i'm into the PS2's Mk IV.

i hope this seems fair and wasn't much longer of a reply than was warranted :'] i don't want it to seem like i'm trashing your favorite suit design, LHLP, because i can still see the things you like about it even if it doesn't resonate with me! anyway thanks so much for the ask because i really enjoyed getting to answer it. i hope you have a good one!!

[workwaffle]

I've seen the question of if J knew of Cynessa and was in on the whole thing floating around, and thought I'd share my two cents. For the purposes of this I'm using Cyn and the solver interchangeably, since it's clear now that what ever personality we attributed to Cyn has actually been the solver all along.

I'd say no, for two reasons. Narratively, the solver enjoys toying with its victims, see N being tormented by the puppet V before it tried to reset his memories. Essentially, the big bad Eldritch being is playing a horrific game with our murderous trio as it's dolls. So to have J be in on the game would ruin all the fun for it, IMHO. That would turn J from a toy and into a player, which, if you've ever seen a mewling brat, is the last thing it wants.

Second, I've come to the conclusion that Tessa is a host, same as Nori or Uzi were This is based on a few things; namely the fact the flesh seems to still be living as responding, her personality is still intact somewhere in there, but primarily that the solver seems to feel shame. Sure, it wants it's toys to be played with, but why the hell does it care what N thinks? It speaks of forgiveness, resets his memories, keeps up a corporate larp, to what end?

My answer, because under there is Tessa. Scared and ashamed of what has happened because of her actions. We saw if the host personality is faced with a strong enough emotional reaction it can boot free the solver, take Uzi telling Nori to stuff it as example. What if Tessa's reaction is essentially same from the shame of N, J, and V? N finally standing up for himself, learning from Uzi how to rebel, might be enough to get tessa over the emotional hurdle.

Now, all this is to say the alternative, that J did know, isn't impossible. Her first lines back from the dead, boss ran away, could be read in two different ways.

"'Cyn dissapeared on earth','Boss ran away'"

1. Boss refers to Cyn. J is saying that Cyn ran away when dissapearing. But J should know in this case that Cyn is trying to keep up the corporate LARP, so why would she say something so blatently giving the game away? J is useless at times, so it could be a run of the mill cock up. But rarely have her slip ups been verbal ones, usually they're physical.

2. Boss refers to Tessa. J is simply adding an extra bit of information, thinking it's an innocent, if teasing, addition. Cyn rebuts back because J isn't aware that she just implied that Cyn ran away; reframing it as they both split their seperate ways.

However, I think ive made my case clear as to why I think it's far more likely that J didn't, in fact, know Tessa had been Cynessa'd; as well a bit on why I think Tessa has been taken as host rather than simply skin suited. Might make a more in-depth break down on that later.

[marumarielle]

https://www.tumblr.com/chaisshitposts/733934617202180096/in-other-news-ive-gotten-a-bit-of-a

(I'm the anon who talked about how there should be ethics when it comes to manifesting, Ill be calling myself the ‼️ anon now)

To the anon who thinks EIYPO is shitty, i agree with that sentiment and have found a way to believe the law without the whole victim blaming and solipsism issue. And this is for u if I believe in the law, I think the person who's post I linked has a good view on this matter.

TW: mentions of abuse, s.a., & unfavorable households

This cleared up everything for me so nicely! Tysm ‼️ anon! I've been feeling really conflicted about it ever since I learned about it so the post you've given me made me feel lighter in a way.

Expanding on this thought, yes, our environment as we grow up shapes our pattern of thinking, our belief system, our perspective in life, money, literally everything. This is why there are people who have these unfavorable thought patterns and are even being taught to tolerate such things (and I speak from experience).

"I do not like the argument that trauma and circumstances were unconsciously manifested by those who've experienced it. if anything, those circumstances were forcefully manifested by their environment that they grew up in." ----Chai

What I quoted from Chai is so well said because I was born in a quite aggressive and limiting household and I took those limiting beliefs as I grew up. Those beliefs forcefully manifested by my environment I ended up living by. So, it's truly not my fault because those beliefs were forced upon me by the environment I grew up in. And, It's not your fault either for having unfavorable experiences (e.g., abusers, s.a., etc...)

When I grew up and found out about Law of Assumption and this whole EIYPO thing I honestly felt so guilty (which is why I'm so unsure of it). "If they act bad to you, it's because you assumed so!" So I felt "It was me? I did that? I never wanted it though...?" I ended up experiencing this period of blaming myself for how people treated me and tolerating mistreatment. Hell, I was even so obsessed with how people viewed me I forgot about how I view myself.

If you ever experienced that period of blaming yourself before, just know that you're not alone and know that I was able to get out of it. I leaned more on the psychology side of this conflict, learning that my trauma isn't my fault but the assaulter's. It took time, of course, renewing and getting rid of such beliefs.

So now: what do I do with EIYPO? honestly? not much. I just assume that people treat me kindly which is the opposite of what I assumed when I was younger.

What's the takeaway?: Don't let others convince you that it was your fault because of EIYPO. It never was your fault. I highly recommend you reading the post ‼️ anon gave because I couldn't have said it better than Chai did. Also, all credits to Chai since this whole post is just me expanding on its post!

[commander-gloryforge]

hm (kinda a rant/vent/i just wanna get things off my chest and actually TALK about whats been bothering me)

so. theres this person that has kind of been the cause of my recent mental lows/imposter syndrome getting worse/fear of connecting to people and general distance from literally every community i enter. i think ive ranted about them before. theyre a writer and in a community i used to be active in, and in the beginning i got along pretty well with them because we both enjoyed similar themes and metaphors in our writing but they ended up kind of dropping me, coincidentally at the same time they gave my actual writing/current wip a shot, and ever since then theyve been sub posting about me in really weird and elitist ways and it kind of had ruined my spirit, especially considering that i did really look up to them as a writer since theyre very into actual technicalities, writing theory, they speak about writing very academically. their odd vague posting ended up seriously knocking down my confidence and ive been spiraling into this strange mindset ever since that i’m incredibly stupid/can never improve/am not a real or proper writer by virtue of the things i write. they talk highly about writing techniques and concepts every writer needs to know, very subtly punch down at those who dont seem to know, yet dont care to make that knowledge easy to understand or accessible to obtain.

on top of that theyve been getting quite close with another new friend i made recently thats very dear to me and seeing them talk about things i cant seem to keep up with because i am too ‘stupid’ has just made me very anxious and brought up old feelings and fears that ive worked very hard on to let go off. this person is keeping me from interacting with a community i love because i cant seem to get ovr the fact that some people just dont like me, because im getting paranoid, because i think their every word is directed towards me, because theyre popular and well liked and everyone always agrees with them, even when what they say goes against what what i do and like.

it really sucks, its been bothering me so much, especially the fact that i cant just let it go. that i cant just ignore them and move on and do what i like without feeling like its wrong or cringe or weird. everytime i think im ready to go back i suddenly see them talking again with my friends that have offered me so much support whenever ive opened up about my struggles and now they suddenly agree and praise that person for having opinions that directly oppose me and the things they were so keen on supporting me on.

but recently i remembered something they said. they said that they dont want to be self indulgent in their writing, that ‘there’s nothing necessarily wrong with self indulgence but it reflects in the writings quality’, that you can ‘tell’ and they dont like that. when they first posted that i just read it and went. oh :( my writing is self indulgent :( does this reflect in my quality as well? is that why they dropped my writing and me, because i like being loud about self indulgence and cringe? and now i remembered that post, and suddenly it kind of clicked

this person very obviously does not write for the same reason as i do. they very obviously do not feel about writing thhe way i feel about it. they talk about it as though it is a science. like its something that needs to be perfected. now, it’s clear that they do love writing, that they have a passion for it, and their technical knowledge very much reflects on their art- and that impresses people. im not like that. i want to learn writing techniques and i want to improve my craft and i want to be taught, properly so, i obviously want to be a good writer, and im going to be a little self obsessed and say that i am a good writer, or at least not a bad one. but there is a difference in how each of us sees writing.

i want to be self indulgent. i want to write what i love. i fucking love writing and story telling and yes, the fact hat my writing is self indulgent does impact the quality of my work, because it makes it better. i am passionate about my worlds and stories and characters because its exactly what i want it to be and thats why is fucking good. because it makes me want to put effort in and learn how to get better. i dont write for a grade, i dont write to make something perfect and deep and meaningful and serious, i dont write to impress someone, i dont write to squeeze as many smart things and references to classic literature in as i can, i write because i want to fucking write what i like.

so im stupid. so im cringe and bad and insecure and a loser and i dont fit into the good writers club but at least what i write makes me happy. whatever. let some fucking whimsy into your life and stop treating me like im an idiot for having different motivations than you.