#dare i put this in the bible tag?

[mfshipbracket]

[butchexe]

(from rat) >:) -> 💥

i spit in god's face once

[kittievampire]

I came because I was in love with your obey me yandere smut! So...can I have something similar to "Mine" but with Simeon 🥺🥺🥺? Please!

Please ignore me if you’re not comfortable with this request.

Honestly, anon, it's sinful that'd you'd request such a thing of me! I couldn't possibly write something like that for Simeon! I'll have you know that he is a man of God, an ANGEL and if you think okay the people who think Simeon shouldn't be depicted this way are gone now, lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Cleansed

Warnings: Dark themes, Cursing, Blood, Violence, Yandere! Simeon x Fem! MC, Virgin! MC, Smut, Teasing, Baby-Trapping, Murder, Manipulation, Obsession, Guilt-Tripping, Somnophilia (MC gets put to sleep), Most likely an incorrect quote from the bible, Fingering, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Non-Con/Rape to Dub-Con

🚨READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY TAGS🚨

Enjoy.

Simeon never knew that he could feel this way about someone.

What he felt exactly, he couldn't say. He couldn't put a finger on it— couldn't put it into words if asked. If he had to describe it, he'd probably say it was something that made him feel like his heart would leap out of his chest with its intense and rapid beating, something that made him want to be close to you, something that made him want to follow you to the ends of the Devildom and back (which may have been literal on some explorative occasions).

Either way, there was one thing this angel knew for a fact.

He had to have you.

This sense of possessiveness started out small. He would follow you around all day, walk you home most nights, and wonder what you were up to when he wasn't by your side. It was always so curious to him how a little human such as yourself suddenly became a being he held of higher regard and importance than Michael, though he'd never tell his higher-up such information.

However, it didn't take long for this obsession to grow.

Simeon was convinced that this was his Father's plan. That he was meant to feel this way about you, that you were meant to be his. Every night, he'd find himself praying, not only for your well-being and fortune, but also for a romantic relationship to blossom from your friendship.

It was the word of the Father, of course.

What God has joined together, let no man seperate. We must guard our union, so that the outside world cannot seperate it.

He has to protect you, no matter what. Especially from the vile lower demons that want a piece of you. Simeon wouldn't dare even think of harming one of the brothers, they were his brothers once, too; Nor did he believe that any of your friends should be hurt. But those that you were uncomfortable with? Those that you didn't know on a personal level? Those that wanted you? Their vary existence was sinful.

They must be cleansed.

_

"Simeon, what is this?"

Your voice was so sweet. It made him feel weak in the knees. Though, he couldn't afford to lose his composure now. Not when he'd finally mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date.

Well, it was a date you were unaware of. But he put his everything into it! You might as well think of it as such out of appreciation!

The angel smiled, motioning toward the empty seat in front of him. He'd managed to convince the owner of this restaurant to place a table on the second-floor balcony. He wanted to be able to see how the moonlight made your features glow.

Simeon had told you to dress formally for this dinner, but you didn't expect the setting to be this fancy! To say you were excited was an understatement.

You sat down in front of him, clasping your hands together as you tried to process your surroundings. "Wow, Simeon, this is truly amazing... I can't thank you enough, but I am curious about the occasion," You ask softly, a small blush forning on your face.

The angel chuckled softly, lifting one of his hands to gently caress the petal on one of the roses that the vase in the middle of the table held. "One as divine as yourself must be treated to such things, wouldn't you agree?" His voice sounded so sweet to your ears, reminding you of the vanilla sweets he and Luke would bake for you.

"Hi, welcome to... MC?"

You snapped your head to the side, looking up at the waiter approaching your table. Your face paled as you recognized the familiar demon standing before you. It was an incubus that had hit on you recently, the only one you didn't tell Simeon about. "Toran?" You murmured softly, earning a nod from the waiter. "Where have you been? Why haven't you responded to any of my texts, huh? You too good for me or somethin'?" The demon before you suddenly became more aggressive than you felt comfortable dealing with. Simeon could sense your growing discomfort and stood, approaching the waiter. "Excuse me, I don't believe this is appropriate conduct for someone in your position, may I request we get another waiter?" He asked, earning a scoff from the demon whose name he couldn't bother to remember. "Hey, I'm not talking to you, yeah? Why don't you-" "Toran!" You shouted, catching the attention of both of the gentlemen before you. "I... I gave you the wrong number, I'll give it to you. Please, just leave us alone, yes?"

Simeon's face contorted into that of a disgusted look, one that you didn't see.

Why the hell were you even entertaining the idea of giving your information to this asshole? You were supposed to be with him, not this foul demonic garbage. "That won't be necessary, MC," Simeon said with a warm smile, the demon turning to face him. "What the hell do you-" "I'd like to request a change in waiters, please. I don't think you'd want your higher-ups to know about this, so I suggest you do everything you can to make things right!"

He truly was angelic, wasn't he?

You couldn't help but smile a bit, feeling your heart thump against your chest as your cheeks heated up. You looked away for a moment, trying to calm yourself down.

Simeon glanced at you before he roughly grabbed the waiter by his collar and pulled him close. "It'd be in your best interest not to anger me. That girl is the only reason you're still breathing, demon," He whispered into the demon's ear before pushing him away.

Your gaze met the angel's and you couldn't help but blush once more. "A-Ah! Did he finally leave? I'm so sorry, Simeon. I didn't know he worked here! He's been harassing me for the past few weeks, and I just don't know what to do anymore." You started rambling, Simeon sitting down before you and listening closely to every single word that left those lovely lips of yours. They looked so soft.

However, he couldn't forget the sheer audacity of that demon. His presence, his words, his existence, all of it was a sin that must be cleansed. How dare he even breathe in your direction? It all frustrated the angel.

That's okay. Simeon would deal with him later. He had to comfort his lover now. "That sounds horrible! Have you told anyone else about this?" He asked reaching over the table and gently grasping your hand. You turned away from his gaze bashfully, blush only growing darker as you felt his eyes pierce through you. "No, you're the only one that knows about him."

Simeon felt his heart pound against his chest at this. He was the only person you trusted enough to tell? Oh, you're so dependent on him, just how it should be. What a good girlfriend you are, even if you didn't know it yet. "I see," He managed to murmur out softly, a light chuckle escaping his lips as you met his gaze once more.

"I'll do with this information what I can to help you, MC. I promise,"

_

Simeon splashed water over Toran's tied-up body, causing the demon to wake up in a panic. Though, his sounds of confusion were muffled by the gag in his mouth. Simeon's hand shot forward, gripping either side of his face and forcing him to meet his gaze. "Disgusting," He muttered softly, a glare making its way to the angel's face. He scoffed and pushed Toran's head away from him, taking a step back and pinching his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Ah, what was your name again?" He asked, voice shifting back to the one he wore normally. The one that angels such as himself were expected to wear. "Toran, I believe, yes?" He asked softly, adjusting his black gloves as he turned his back to the demon. "MC requested I not get you in too much trouble with your higher-ups if I take action. She really is sweet, isn't she?"

Simeon turned around, brushing his gloved fingers over the blade in his hand. "You see, I believe that MC is far too divine to be saddened by someone such as yourself. I believe it is my duty as an angel to expel any unhappiness from her life as I see fit." He made his way over to the demon, gently pressing the sharp tip of the blade against his chin. "I'm like her guarding angel in that way, aren't I? I'd make such a good husband, don't you think? If I asked her to marry me... No, she'd be weirded out by such a thing. I have to ask her to be my girlfriend first, don't I?" Simeon's list of questions was left unanswered, but the sound of the demon muffling something under the gag while he was talking only irritated the demon's captor further. "Has no one taught you manners?" He sliced the bottom of the demon's chin, blood spilling out, and a muffled cry erupted from Toran's throat.

"I truly don't appreciate how you treat MC... It truly is unfortunate. You must be cleansed, demon." He pushed the blade against Toran's chest.

"I will do what I must to protect my human,"

_

Simeon loved you. He loved you more than anything else in this world, more than he loved himself, more than he loved his Father. He just couldn't bare the thought of you rejecting him is all! That's the only reason why this happened.

You were close, so close to finding out his secret. So close to finding the corpses. He wrapped his hand over your mouth and nose and began to chant a sleeping spell into your ear softly, and when you fell limp in his arms, he placed you on the bed.

Now, you looked so beautiful, so innocent, so carefree. He couldn't help but be drawn to your divinity. The way your skirt was pushed up by the duvet slightly, showing him the plush of your thigh. The blush on his face was dark, as were his eyes.

He had to claim you.

In the blink of an eye, he was between your legs, sliding your panties off of you from beneath your skirt, his breath hitching as he saw your pussy. He could feel a lump of saliva form in his throat as he slowly lowered his hand, running two gloved fingers down your slit. Simeon stared at your cunt, not blinking, not moving anything but his hand. He was infatuated with your body, and the only thing that was missing was your whimpers and pleas for him to keep going. Slowly, he pushed his fingers into you, your velvety walls welcoming the digits.

You were tight.

You were a virgin.

A whimper poured from your lips as he shoved his fingers all the way inside of you, his knuckles meeting your entrance. Simeon glanced up at your face to see your expression change, brows knitting together as your lips parted ever so slightly. However, you gave no signal of consciousness. He reached his free hand forward as he began to slowly thrust his fingers into you, making scissoring movements to stretch you. With his free hand he parted your black RAD jacket and unbuttoned your teal underblouse.

Simeon's breathing hitched once more as he saw the white bra you were wearing, taking a moment to think about this situation. You were asleep and vulnerable, and here he was, defiling you. He looked down at his hand, eyes widening at how your essence clung to his fingers.

You wanted him too.

"Haah... I knew it," He muttered out softly, a smile forming on his face. "I knew you wanted me, you naughty girl. Your body's so honest with me."

Biting his lip, he slowly pushed a third finger into you. At the same time, he hooked his index finger around the middle of your bra, pulling it down, and allowing your breasts to spill out. Immediately, his hand groped your mound, squeezing the soft flesh and allowing a chill to run down his spine as he thrusted his fingers faster. "Come on, my dear, give me an orgasm," He said, voice full of desperation, making it seem more like he was begging you. "I need to see you cum for me, darling."

Soft moans and gasps erupted from your throat, and he felt your thighs pushing against his hand. He frowned, pushing your thighs further apart and positioning himself inbetween your legs. "None of that, Dove," He said softly, feeling the heat that pooled around his fingers go straight to his cock. His thumb reached up to trace circles over your clit, causing you to whine and squirm in your sleep.

He felt your walls tightening, excitement coursing through his veins as he thrusted his fingers faster into you, gloved hand soaked, and hand squeezing your breast. "Almost there, Dove," He almost whimpered out, cock twitching. Your hands moved downward, almost as if unconsciously trying to hide yourself from the stimulation.

Your eyes shot wide open and you let out a cry of pleasure as your orgasm came crashing down, coating Simeon's hand in your juices. His movements slowed, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your blurry vision slowly began to re-focus, allowing you to see the angel before you. A sheepish smile appeared on his face as he pulled his hand away, pressing a finger to his tongue to get a taste of your cum. "Simeon?" You panted out softly.

Simeon's hand pushed his white pants and boxers down, freeing his hardened cock, pink tip oozing with precum. "I'm so sorry, my little Dove," He said softly, your eyes going wide as he spread your legs, cock pressing gently against your opening. "I wanted to wait... Ask you to go out with me, then after we got married, I'd take you in a more..." He paused, trying to search for the right adjective. "Romantic setting." Simeon's cock grinded gently against you. "You see, Dove—" You felt him push into you, and you gasped, hands immediately clamping over your mouth. His mouth fell open, letting out a soft groan as he felt your cunt suck him in. "You're just... So— Hnngh!— Tempting!" He slammed himself all the way inside of you, hips meeting yours as he bottomed out.

Tears fell from your eyes at the stretch and you felt his hands on your thighs, guiding them so that your legs would wrap around his waist. "You'll forgive me, right?" He murmured out softly, nuzzling his face into the valley between your breasts. "I'm only doing all of this because I love you." Simeon's eyes met yours and you could feel your body tremble. "S-Simeon, I-I wanted... To wait—" "Wait until when, Dove?!" He suddenly became more aggressive, face now inches away from yours, cock pushing against your cervix, making you whine. "Until one of those vile demons got to you? That isn't an option! You were going to make love to me on the night of our wedding, what difference does it make that I take you here?" He huffed out.

You'd never seen him so angry before, nor have you ever seen him act so possessive before. He pulled his hips back, only to shove them forward again. You moaned loudly, closing your eyes and allowing more tears to fall. "You should be grateful..." He muttered, closing his eyes to try and maintain some of his composure. The contradiction in his words hardly meant anything to your hazy mind. While you did take a moment to realize that he just apologized for waiting before scolding you for wanting the same, the way he started to pound into you made your brain turn to mush.

"That it was me who was here instead of some random demon. I don't know what I would've done if someone deflowered you before I got the chance to, they might've ended up like the others!"

You flinched at this statement, looking up at Simeon through teary eyes. "O-Others?" He scoffed, burying his face into the crook of your neck to leave dark hickies that couldn't be hidden. When you didn't get an answer, you debated on asking him again, but he interrupted your confusion with a slam right into the spot that made you see stars.

You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, feeling a knot begin to tighten in your stomach. "S-Simeon! G-Gonna c-cum soon!" You whined out, bucking your hips upward to get more friction between the two of you, hoping for further stimulation.

Simeon knitted his brows together as a thought came to mind. Perhaps if you were pregnant, everyone, including you, would know that you were his. Maybe if he got you attached to him in such a permanent manner, you'd never think about another man. Yes, that sounded absolutely divine. It sounded right.

"MC," He moaned out against your jawline, pressing a kiss to it before he moved upward so his lips were beside your ear. "I'm gonna cum inside you, okay?"

"W-What?!" You flinched, regaining consciousness almost immediately before almost being completely fucked out of it again. Simeon sighed softly against you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm gonna make you— Ngh!— A mamaaa..." He dragged out the last syllable as a blush formed on his face, feeling his orgasm nearing as his pace quickened and his thrusts became more desperate and rough. The tip of his cock bullied your cervix, making you nearly scream in pleasure. "You'll be good for me, right? Y-You'll take all of my cum? Carry my child for me? You love me don't you?"

Your walls convulsed and you screamed as you came, juices coating his length. "Y-Yes," You whimpered out softly, being rewarded with the smile that you'd grown to love on him. "My Dove," He moaned out softly, burying himself deep inside of you and grunting as you felt him paint your insides white. You could feel him filling you up to the brim, womb full, pussy throbbing and drooling with his cum, even though he hadn't moved. There was just so much. You'd never felt this full before.

He slammed into you a few more times, trying to ride out the pleasure of his orgasm, as well as fuck his seed deep within you, before slowly pulling out. The sight of his cum oozing out of you made him blush, looking up at your panting, exhausted form.

Simeon smiled, caressing your tear-stained cheek with the hand that wasn't dirtied, pressing a warm and passionate kiss to your lips. He felt his heart skip a beat when you returned the favor. Reluctantly, though he had to breathe, he pulled away.

"I'll do everything I can to keep you safe and with me, Dove... Even if it means I have to resort to desperate measures,"

Holy fuck, that was a long ass train ride. I hope you liked it, anon, cause I know some of your horny asses did!

MASTERLIST

[cafedanslanuit]

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ HOW THEY SEE ROMANCE BASED ON THEIR MOON, VENUS & MARS SIGNS

isagi, bachira, kunigami ☼ chigiri, reo, nagi ☼ sae, rin, oliver

why those signs? well, you see, those three are the most relevant in our charts when it comes to romance. our moon sign shows how we deal with emotions, how we express them and our emotional needs. our venus sign tells us how we approach romantic relationships and what brings us pleasure. and lastly, our mars sign reveals our truest desires, our instincts, and sexuality.

tags/warnings: gn reader + no pronouns, pretty sfw, a tad suggestive

note: i based my calculations on the birthdays shown on the egoist bible since they sometimes differ on different websites :) @ofoceansandtombsanew here's nagi's reading, come get your man!!! <3

masterlist

CHIGIRI — aries moon + sag venus + pisces mars

A bit difficult to understand in terms of romance because, while he can be direct, he’s also quite sensitive. He needs a warm partner that can help him when he’s feeling insecure while being soft and caring but, at the same time, they can’t be too sensitive and get hurt over his bluntness and, sometimes, lack of tact. Chigiri knows his words and behaviour sometimes upset people and he’d love someone that doesn’t take things personally and can handle his bad mood. He’s the perfect mix of being needy and independent, playing aloof but wanting reassurance, all at the same time. While he’s moody and temperamental, he’s not the type to isolate himself, even when he feels guilty about his outbursts. In relationships, he needs an emotional connection just as much as a physical one and he’s always attentive to your sexual needs. In his mind, if you’re enjoying it, then he’s enjoying it too. He’s open to different kinds of sexual expression and you can’t really put a label on him.

REO — taurus moon + cancer venus + sag mars

Reo is very romantic but his expectations can be a bit unrealistic in terms of love. He’s very practical in other areas of his life, but love is, in a way, his weakness. He gets too emotionally involved and needs you to consistently affirm your love for him. He loves a partner that can be adventurous and daring, but only if they can balance it with a sense of security. Reo is actually very vulnerable, but he doesn’t want other people to know this (he’s a Leo sun after all). Very good intuition about your feelings and needs, but sometimes he fails to recognize your need for change and growth. He’s very romantic and he won’t compromise his feelings unless he’s sure there’s something in it for him. Regarding sex, he’s all for physical affirmations of love. He’s very forward with his needs and he carries an innocent aura when he expresses them. Loves to have fun in bed-- the type of man who will laugh and manhandle you a bit just for the sake of it.

NAGI — libra moon + libra venus + sag mars

In a relationship, Nagi needs his mind to be stimulated just as much as his heart. While he may enjoy your presence, he also needs some time to himself. He doesn’t do well with restrictive partners who can’t control their possessiveness. Of course, he also offers you the space and freedom to be who you are as well. He loves having you tag along to wherever he’s going and finds reassurance in verbal expressions of love. He usually doesn’t come on strong-- he’s more about the subtlety of romance. To Nagi, a romantic relationship should be set on an existing friendship for both of you to be comfortable, and most of all, safe with each other. That comes in handy regarding sex because he has a playful nature to it. Loves to feel so in sync with someone that he can’t help but laugh and be blunt about what he needs. However, sometimes he may seem bothered by flaws in his relationships and will try to fix them as soon as he can so he can rest again. 

[blue-sky-and-sunny-day]

I have a small request for my mutuals and people i follow. I hope u will understand. I request u all to tag posts related to the new n*clear b*mb movie as *ab*

I am now going to tell u why . Before I say anything I want to say i think making and using that weapon of mass destruction is the most heinous crime against humanity and nature.

Couple of days back I was bored to oblivion and tried to look at the world news headlines. I found a post about the movie that said Hindus r upset over a certain scene. I read the details and immediately regretted. It was beyond shocking for someone who grew up in a home with The Holy Bible , The Vedas and The Koran in the same book shelf and a sub-continent with numerous religious communities, people of all shades of skin color and learned at home and school to respect them all while respecting the religion and culture I was born and brought up into.

I am sure C* topher N*lan and the writers/ whoever is responsible for putting that scene in the movie are some of of the most awful, ugly, filthiest minded creatures ever (like rotting sewerage ). HOW DARE they insult Hinduism and Religious Hindus like that ? HOW DARE THEY INSULT HINDUISM IN THE GROSSEST POSSIBLE WAY IMAGINABLE ? WOULD THEY DARE DOING THE SAME TO ANY OTHER MAJOR RELIGION IN THE WORLD ? NO ,THEY WONT . THEY WOULD BE TERRIFIED OF DOING THAT. THEN WHY HINDUISM ?

NO ONE , NO ONE HAS ANY RIGHT TO INSULT OTHER PEOPLE'S RELIGIOUS BELIEFS IN PUBLIC MEDIA. OR MISREPRESENTING THE RELIGION OR SPREADING MISINFORMATION ABOUT THEM .

CREATIVE LICENSE? SERIOUSLY?

Hollywood seems to have a free license to insult and make fun of Hindus and Hinduism in numerous movies and shows . The fashion industry did that too. Pictures of our deities and most sacred religious symbols everywhere on clothes including shorts and shoes . DO THEY EVEN KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT HINDUISM ,ITS SCRIPTURES, DEITIES ,THE GITA AND MONOTHEISM ( AS CLEARLY STATED IN THE GITA) ?

NO ,THEY DO NOT . THEY DON'T CARE HOW RELIGIOUS HINDUS FEEL BY THEIR ACTIONS . BECAUSE THEY THINK RELIGIOUS HINDUS ARE SILLY AND POSSIBLY UNEDUCATED AND TOTALLY UNCULTURED, UNABLE TO FOLLOW FASHION OR INTERNATIONAL MEDIA. AND THEY SHOULD NOT HAVE ANY OPINION OR VOICE ABOUT HOW THEIR RELIGION IS PORTRAYED IN MEDIA .

THEY R SO, SO BRAVE WHILE INSULTING AND MAKING DISPARAGING COMMENTS ABOUT HINDUS AND HINDUISM ON INTERNATIONAL MEDIA. BECAUSE ITS EASY AND WORRY FREE !!!!! SO CONVENIENT! LIKE WOW!

I have no problem with atheism . I understand it and I have nothing against people who are atheists. This is not about that . I want to make this clear.

I liked the actors in the movie before reading this news. They do not want/ respect/ care for religious Hindu fans . Okay . Understood. ( This my opinion only)

The Foreign version of the news also stated Indians watched and ' enjoyed' the movie . I have nothing against those people if that really happened. Maybe they are non religious and don't know anything or care about Hinduism or scriptures or Gita . In my extended family there r some people like that . But that is okay . Religion for me is not something that should be forced to learn or practice . As I know and understand there are different ways of practicing Hinduism .

My question is , how difficult is it for people to respect other people's religious beliefs? My family and plenty of people I know personally and millions I do not know are doing it with ease all their lives . Can tolerant Hindus living all over the world not expect this common civility and simple courtesy extended to them ?

[scripted-downfall]

One of the things that makes Sam's character arc so ironic is that the man's intense desire to be the Chosen One is at odds with his desire to be "good."

After all, the thing is: he is the Chosen One, exactly what he wants to be. (The original post that inspired this --- linked here --- detailed what I mean by this: half of his motivations are because he's certain that he's got some higher purpose for good no matter what signs there are to the contrary.) He takes issue with this fact only because he's the Chosen One for the wrong side, for Hell.

Honestly, for all he preaches that monsters aren't all bad and evil is a choice --- which I do believe are true statements, to be clear --- he only puts his money where his mouth is on that point when it's convenient for him. (Lenore? Madison? We have to give 'em another chance! Cas? Benny? Oh, come on, Dean, how dare you replace me with them!) Only rarely does he selflessly make the difficult choice to do the right thing.

Legitimately, all the things that Sam does wrong in the entire series are because of his choices (plus or minus some manipulations by external sources). I'm a Sam anti because of his choices. Problems arise because of his choices. (Please note: I'm not laying the blame for everything in the series at his feet. I'm not saying that all problems come from him. I'm saying that, more often than not, any problems that do stem from him have their roots in his choices. It's like squares and rectangles: not all of Sam's choices cause problems, but most of his problems stem from his choices.)

The demon powers are the primary example of this: those came from Hell, but they were not inherently bad. Andy used the powers with moderation and lived quite peacefully until Ava killed him; Jake probably would have been fine if he'd been left on his own and not had Azazel forcing him to develop the powers; etc. If Sam had just not used them --- or only used them in the earlier stages, without triggering the "switches that flip in your brain" --- nothing bad would have happened. But that would have meant that he wasn't given this higher calling. That would have taken away the pre-destined strength he felt he had every time he called post-Hell!Dean "weak." That would have meant that he had to ignore his powers. And because he didn't want to do that --- because he wanted that aggrandizing title --- Sam chose to a) disregard Dean's last wishes that he not use them, b) trust Ruby, and c) disregard the warnings of not just his brother, not just Ava/Jake, but also the entire host of Heaven that these powers were a bad thing.

This whole post was inspired by the tags of a reblog featuring a line about him "delusionally trying to believe he can for once be worth something good." And, while I take the point --- and am certainly not trying to be rude or anything on that front --- Sam is 100% capable of being something good.

The problem is that he's got these preconceived notion about what "good" is, and it's very rarely the actual right thing to do. In the earlier seasons, he trusts the Bible and automatically assumes angels are good. (Frankly, idk why; I tend to leave religion out of things, but it bears mentioning that "Old Testament" is more or less synonymous with violent wrath for a reason.) In s11, when he assumes that God is sending him visions, he automatically trusts that the content of the visions is "good" and "right" purely because it came from God and is "how things are meant to be"; once God actually shows up, he immediately starts fanboying over him even though I once again question that particular piece of wisdom. I'm fond of Chuck --- at least for now... I haven't seen past s12 yet, and I know s15 Chuck is... yeah. --- but his management in the SPN universe is... highly questionable even at that point.

The problem is: Being good (in the context of this show) doesn't fall in line with his belief that being good is predicated upon having some grandiose fate or magic powers, on being some op "I can kill you with my brain" savior. The show is written to make his storyline ironic, yes, because the seasons have "being good" as refusing use the magic powers (s4), resisting destiny (s5, s9, s15), staying true to the simplicity of normal hunting (s12), etc, and not embracing this, frankly, egocentric desire to be powerful.

Thus, I agree with the poster, and yet I feel that it's not an issue of him trying to prove that he can, for once, be something good; it's him trying to be good and fulfill his power-centric version of goodness. And it's because of this that I can't really find it heartbreaking. Because he's knowingly, consciously making poor choices in the name of power. In any other character, that'd be villain-coded, just saying.

And, of course, I fully admit that I don't like Sam. I don't like how he treats his brother. I don't like how he makes decisions. I don't like how he's favored by the writing, the plot, the finale, and even the characters. The writers, in essence, cast him as the main character, but his is not a story I've ever wanted to follow, all the way from episode one. I make no bones about the fact that I cannot identify with him, cannot justify many of his actions. But, while all this is true, I do think that I'm fair.

If anyone disagrees with any of this, I look forward to hearing polite, logical discourse. (If you cannot be pleasant while maintaining your passion, please DNI. I can go my way; you can go yours.)

[countrymusiclover]

17 - Wearing a Ring

(Picture doesn't belong to me)

Part 18

Texas Romance

Tags - @tyrionsprincess30 @bvbwestfall

Someone knocked three times on the garage door making me rub the sleep from my eyes. "Y/n, Y/n, Y/n." Sheldon called out behind the closed door. Holding myself up on my elbow noticing Georgie's side of the bed is empty meaning he went to work most likely even though it's a Saturday. "Yeah Sheldon, what's wrong?" He peaks his head around the door trying to make sure he can come in. So I pat the space on the bed causing him to come sit beside me. He puts his hands in his lap looking nervous. "I'm not good with feelings but - I hope I'm not making life harder on you since you're pregnant now." Tilting my head I give him a weak smile hugging him without a thought and supriseingly he puts his arms around me. Sheldon had been freaking out that he couldn't focus on school because of his brother being pregnant and he was complaining a lot recently.

"It's okay Sheldon. It's all overwhelming for all of us." I whispered pulling away and wiping away tears until he offers with a smile. "Can I offer you a drink?" Nodding my head we went to the kitchen where he poured me a glass of chocolate milk since I can't have coffee while I'm pregnant. He stands at the end of the table as I finished it off. "Thanks, Sheldon." The front door opened and I hear a bunch of foosteps entered the kitchen meaning I see Missy and Georgie. "Hey guys, what's going on?" I asked confused at seeing her nearly bouncing off the walls and him clearly nervous when he reaches into his flannel pocket. Sheldon looks between the three of us confused as I am until Georgie dropped on one knee. "Georgie." I gasped suddenly dropping the glass making it shatter on the floor. He clears his throat trying to not cry himself.

Missy is almost jumping up and down giggling like she's five years old again when he spoke staring up at me. "Y/n L/n, I love you. When we started dating I was a reck always getting in trouble because I didn't like being called dumb. But you helped me see that I am smart in a different way. I know we didn't plan on becoming parents so soon, but I promise I'll be there for you. Through everything - because you are the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?" Nodding my head yes causing him to quickly get to his feet kissing me. He takes my left hand slipping the ring on my finger, looping his arm through mine smiling to Missy. "Missy go help her with her dress. I think we're done waiting." I stared up at him daring to ask the question. "We're having an actual wedding, Georgie?"

Missy had done a actual good job at picking out the perfect dress for me. It's long in the back but short in the front so I won't trip. Short sleeve with lace on the front. Eyeing the ring on my finger someone knocked on the door making me glance over my shoulder seeing Connie. "Hi dear, I thought you deserved my ring. You're the best girl for my grandson." Running up to her I throw my arms around her smiling and she hugs me back for a second. Sitting on Missy's bed she puts part of my hair in a braid leaving the rest of it loose falling down my back. Slipping my tenna shoes on my father stands in the hallway taking me outside to see thr backyard all decorated for the wedding. Squeezing my father's hand I asked as we both looked to Georgie wearing a tie and his best shirt with blue jeans smiling towards us. "So you're fine with me marrying him?" My father looked down to me then at my mother who is crying. "If he makes you happy. That's all that matters babygirl."

My father puts my hands in Georgie's where his mother stepped up carrying a Bible in her hands smiling. "Georgie is letting me preform the ceremony and I am honored." My gaze flickered to his and I already knew why. His father had quit his job as the high school football coach and his mother was fired from working at the church. Plus the entire town had cut us off because of the baby. "We are gathered here today to bring these two wonderful people together. I see these two together and it brings me great joy. Just as I hope their child will..." She has us put our freehand on the cover of her book asking with a smile. "Y/n do you take him to be your husband?" I grin replying. "I do." She turned to her son who answered immediately without a thought. "I do." Mary stepped back before Georgie cups my face in his hands kissing me slowly. Wrapping my arms around his neck I kiss him back hearing Missy hollering out in joy. "She's finally my sister in law!"

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[radiorenjun]

takeaway || l.hc

-> pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

-> genre: fluff. ANGST. slight crack. college au! strangers to lovers au! bets to lovers au! indirect enemies/rivals to lovers au! friends to lovers au!

-> synopsis: You were dared to get the infamous lee donghyuck to date you for three months. You weren't one to back down on a challenge, a dare is a dare, after all. But unfortunately for you, someone overheard your little challenge and snitched to Donghyuck. Instead of getting upset at you, the sun-kissed boy saw it as an interesting game. Deciding to play along, you both unknowingly indulged yourselves in a game filled with pretty lies and dark secrets.

Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen.

Who's going to fall first?

Who's hearts' going to break first?

Who's pretty lies will turn into painful truths first?

Who's hearts' going to be taken away first?

-> warnings: heartbreak, making out, arguments, mentions of parental neglect, alcohol use, mentions of smoking, hyuck and the reader are indicated to be mentally exhausted (not depressed), family problems, innuendos, crying, financial issues, crack, supportive best friend! Mark and Yangyang!more to be added

-> wordcount (for teaser) : 0.8k

-> release date: someday ig

-> taglist is opened! tagging : @kunrengui @channoticedmeuwu @neowritingsnet @neoturtles @nct-writers @go-shotaro @lanadreamie @flower-lise

"Hey Hyuck!"

The sun-kissed, orange haired boy turned his head at the sound of his best friend calling out his name, earning a couple stares from a few of the students in the halls as Mark continued to jog towards him. "What's gotten you so worked up? Did you piss your pants while taking that Chem quiz or something?" Hyuck chuckled, raising one of his eyebrows as he snucked his hands into his hoodie pockets, earning a few nervous splutters from the boy in front of him. 

"Dude, we're in public. Don't you have some kind of filter in that dumbass brain of yours?" Mark deadpanned, furrowing his brows as he watched the other students, who were previously glancing at them, look away at the corner of his eyes. "Hey man, I wasn't the one hooting and hollering like someone's wife just died in the middle of the halls," he responded with a small shrug, grinning mischievously as he leaned his shoulder back against the metal door of his locker. "So what's gotten your panties in a twist?" Hyuck asked. 

Mark rolled his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest. "I really should give you a Bible for your birthday, to cleanse your brain from saying unholy words in public," he tsked, shaking his head in disappointment as Hyuck let out a small laugh. "You're saying that as if you haven't done that three birthdays ago. Stop stalling, why the hell were you calling me from Antartica?" Hyuck snickered, turning his head to the side to wave at some junior who greeted the both of them as they walked by.

The Canadian boy sighed heavily, putting both of his hands behind his neck nervously as he gulped his nerves down. "Look, dude, I'm just looking out for you when I say this. But remember that party we went to last weekend at Han's house?" He asked rather hesitantly, his tone growing from sarcastic to soft as if he was trying to break news to a small innocent child. Donghyuck furrowed his brows, trying to recall said party. "Han? As in Han Jisung's party?" He asked, confusion etched across his features as Mark nodded in response. 

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I don't want to bring this up but I'm seriously looking out for you. But like, I overheard a few girls huddling up and daring that girl- Fuck, I forgot her name," Mark rambled as he ran a hand through his hair in distress as he tried to remember the details of what he saw that night. "And they, like, dared her to get you to date her for three months and break it off, or something? Fuck man, I was drunk as fuck back then but I swear I know what I saw- or heard. Her name- she's in your Literature and Bio class, I think. I think her name was-"

"Y/n? Y/n L/n?" Hyuck cut off Mark's nervous rambling, his tone no longer filled with amusement and joy, now growing serious and dark. "Yeah! That's her name!" Mark exclaimed with a rather excited nod, clapping his hands once before pointing at Hyuck when he guessed your name correctly before pausing with a deep frown on his lips. "Wait, how did you know? This happened after Shotaro drove you home," Mark mumbled in confusion, scratching the back of his neck as he got lost in thought for a moment. 

Hyuck rolled his eyes. "That's because she just started talking to me out of nowhere today. It was fucking weird, we've never even talked before. I should've known something was up," he cursed under his breath, wrapping an arm around himself and putting his hand on his chin, scratching it gently as he got deep in thought. Mark bit his lip nervously, putting a hand around his friend's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Hyuck. You don't deserve this after what happened with Karin-"

"The hell are you apologizing for?" 

"Huh?"

Mark looked up to see an amused expression spread across Donghyuck's face, it was the same expression as the one when he had found another prank idea to pull on Doyoung or Renjun at the NEO frat house Shotaro was staying at. "Dude, it's been a while since something this interesting happened. If anything, I should be thanking you for telling me this," he laughed in amusement, patting the older boy's back enthusiastically as his eyes glinted with mischief. 

A confused "huh" was elicited from the Canadian boy, pulling away from Hyuck's brotherly embrace in confusion. Mark furrowed his brows as he replayed Hyuck's words back in his head, just in case he misheard something. He really didn't expect to earn this kind of reaction from his best friend. At least, not after the incident with his previous girlfriend. 

"Wait, so you're… not upset?" 

"The fuck would I be upset? Dude, it's been a while since something this interesting happened."

@RADIORENJUN 2021, All Rights Reserved

[phlebaswrites]

International Fanworks Day 2022

Thank you so much to the Creative Lounge for making these bingo cards for International Fanworks Day 2022!

I filled out both cards and there are a lot of stories so I’m putting the rest of this post under a cut.

Favourite Trope: Seducing Tobirama for the pining trope. So much pining!

SO much research: Courting Culture Confusion. I keep having to break for research spirals. 🤣

Smallest thing you made: No Stars in the Sky. Only 41 words.

Was supposed to be a one-shot: Escape and Evade. This was only ever supposed to be a short thing - the first chapter was supposed to be a stand alone one shot. Whoops. It ended up being 38K and the first part of a series that is currently 490K... and still ongoing.

Flowed from my fingertips fully-formed: (Im)pure Chaos. It just happened!

Created during a weird rush of energy: Founders Fairy Tales. I wrote 11K over two days - I don't know what happened.

Cried while creating this: Not Even the Law Can Help You. Oh yeah. Buckets of tears.

Train wreck turned into awesomeness: Orienting an Orbit. This story fought me like hell, but I quite like how it turned out.

I had to create new tags: Sharks Hug With Their Mouths. I definitely had to create new tags for this, including a new tag for the relationship.

No beta no regrets: Almost everything I've ever written. Only one of my stories has been beta'd - Silence is Golden.

I invented this rare pair: Blondes Save the World. This relationship tag didn't exist on AO3 before I wrote it, and this is still the only story on AO3 with this ship.

Au/crossover that no-one asked for: The Wrong Question. Definitely no one asked for this one. 🤣

Successfully wrestled into submission: Slither and Stalk. Another story that fought me, but I actually like.

Fave OC-centric work: Home is in the Heart (of the Ocean). Niko is my very first OC in Naruto fandom and she's dear to my heart.

Was supposed to be fluff, (I swear): The Closing of Our Shared Narrative. I don't know how the angst crept in...

I sleep-created this: Bad Moon Rising. The second chapter was entirely plotted in my sleep - I'm a lucid dreamer so I do that sometimes.

Biggest thing you made: To Tempt a Target. 114K words. The only thing bigger is the series bible which currently stands at 141K.

The one that haunts my dreams (finished or un): There are three of these, all unfinished. Death is Not the End - because the short story that I posted is only the beginning of a giant AU, Hold Your Children Precious - a really dark cannon divergence AU, and an as yet untitled (and utterly crack) idea in which Naruto canon is actually a D&D campaign played by the members of the Akatsuki IRL. Hidan is a med student and health nut, which should really tell you exactly how crack it is...

So underrated: The Mirror Wheel Eye by @pentapoda​. I cannot believe this only has 157 kudos!

Made you feel emotions (how dare): A Gift Just for You by @creative-sweets​. Super sweet and cute!

Brought you into a fandom/ship: As Is the Sea Marvelous by @blackkatmagic​. The story that dragged me screaming (with joy) on to the MadaTobi ship and gave me an understanding of the Founders Era.

Learned so much from this: a symbol of subjugation by evocates. A seminal foundation of this fandom for me.

Fanwork that inspired me to create fanworks: naruto short fic tumblr fills by @robininthelabyrinth​. My very first Naruto story is based on chapter 89 (Run) and written with nirejseki's permission.

Fave twist on a trope: Konoha is the Clownfish AU of the shinobi world by drelfina. Amazing take on the mpeg trope, just amazing.

Made me scream in the comments: Wingtips by @good-grievance​. Scream, keyboard smash, everything.

A+ characterisation: blood rare and sweet as cherry wine by @asukaskerian​. Fantastic characterisation, just wonderful, and such fantastic world building! Fraternal polyamory! Incredible!

So fluffy it gave me cavities: Storehouse Treasure by @dahtwitchi​. This is the story to reread when I want to be happy. I could just squeeze Kura forever, she is so cute! (Although Madara would murder me.)

Helped me to heal: (If you are not by my side) What does it matter if I can ascend to the highest peak? by drelfina. The very first story I read with the MadaTobi pairing and the one which made me go, “wait, is this Naruto?????”

The one everyone should read: Under a Teardrop Moon by @writhingbeneathyou​. To describe this would be to ruin it. Just read it, it's wonderful.

Reread immediately: Of Demon Fish and Time Travel by @kitsunekage88​. Amazing time travel AU. I cannot help but re-read it whenever I see it.

Spiciest smut: Gentle Scales by @artbythedarkside​. I'm a huge fan of this story. HUGE.

Hurt so good: We Bleed the Same by @madmothmadame​. Oh god. So good, and so painful, I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Lost sleep, no regrets: In the Eye of the Beholder by @hali-ra​. I read all 90K in a single night and I regret nothing. NOTHING.

Hats off to this mash-up: oh, but the revelation of stardust by @pearlescentpearl​. MCU and Naruto are not fandoms that I ever thought could be smashed together but WOW. I read this story before I even knew who Tobirama was, and it's only gotten more excellent since.

The head cannon that lives in my head rent-free: Eyestealer by @robininthelabyrinth​. Amazing. I have never seen this concept done anywhere else and I cannot write Hashirama without thinking of this story.

Is it weird that I want to fic this fic?: Tobirama-Centric Snippets and Oneshot Collection by @kitsunesongs​. Chapter 7 (To the Waters and the Wilds) and chapter 9 (The Senju Spring Festival) are especially inspiring!

Pulled off a really tricky scenario: I'm powerful (with a little bit of tender) by @silverutahraptor​. Beautiful lyrical story telling. Chapter three is my favourite.

Wish it were canon: War In Times of Peace by @raendown​. Oh this one, how I wish it were canon, I really do!

Fave OC-centric work: Doing the Work by MarbleGlove. An absolute joy to read, an incredible example of how an original character can impact canon.

The one that I hold out hope that it will be updated one day: Captured Crimson by @emilx311​. I waited... and it happened! Good things do come to those who wait! 💚💚💚💚💚

[dawnsbreaking]

cruel summer - chapter two

noah/cmc rose/bobby litg s2 rewrite status: ongoing chapter wc: 4,350

“Islanders,” Gary read, “it’s time to find out who’s… er…” He paused and cupped a hand over the screen to see the text better. “Hot under the collar, and who’s playing it cool. Head over to the fire pit to play a game of Truth or Dare.”

The concept alone made Rose flush with embarrassment, so certain she was that Truth or Dare would push at the edges of her comfort.

read on ao3 series masterlist want to be tagged in future chapters?

When Rose and Noah finally caught up to the other islanders, Hannah was in the middle of a cute soliloquy about how she hoped to find her prince among the ‘eligible bachelors’ of the villa. She was a little full-on, but Rose found it sweet. And she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t romanticized Love Island the same way once or twice during the application process.

“Noah and I were just chatting about the books we brought along,” Rose piped in, filling an awkward silence left at the end of Hannah’s declaration. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you brought something by Austen.”

Hannah gave a sheepish smile, clearly thankful for Rose humoring her when the rest of the islanders had left her out to dry. “I’m not that predictable,” she said. “I brought Anne of Green Gables.”

“You lot brought books?” Rocco interjected. “I thought that was just something they made up in the welcome packet. I thought: Surely no one actually brings books to Love Island…”

Gary knitted his brows and looked between Hannah and Rocco. He mumbled, “I didn’t bring a book either.” So much for that couple.

“Show of hands!” Bobby called. “Who brought a book?”

Rose put her hand up and watched Noah, Marisol, and Hannah do the same. The rest of the villa gawked.

“Really?” Marisol asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Not even a bible or anything?”

“Babes,” Lottie laughed, “this is Love Island, not a reading retreat.”

“I’m saying, like, when do you suppose we’ll have time to read?” Bobby snickered, looking to Rose as if positing the question to her specifically. It almost felt like flirting but she couldn’t quite make out whether it was for sure. Probably for the best, as it wouldn’t be a good look to flirt right in front of her current partner. Even if they had all just met.

“I happen to think that reading together is a great couples activity,” Rose answered. “But it seems like just Hannah, Marisol, or Noah would be able to participate.” She threw a glance back at Noah, standing just behind her, and he grinned like he would be up for it.

“Right.” Hope put her hands on her hips, looking tense. Perhaps she was already unhappy with her couple. “Have we got any drinks at that bar or is it for show?”

In a little shuffle and posturing of the boys trying to be chivalrous towards the girls, it was decided that the boys would find champagne while the girls got settled on the loungers. That was until Bobby asked Rose to stay with them.

“Wanna make sure we get the drinks right?”

Rose smiled at him and nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape from the girls for a moment. They were sweet, but it was clear that some of them were about to take the opportunity to complain about their couples and Rose had nothing to contribute.

“One of the boys, eh?” Gary chuckled, bumping Rose’s arm with his elbow.

“I just want to get to know everyone,” she said.

Bobby smiled at her, clearly glad he’d asked her to stay. “I respect that. You didn’t look like you fancied a girls chat.”

Rose shrugged, neither denying nor confirming.

“I’m glad to get a little break, Hannah’s already winding me up. All that talk about eligible bachelors and love and princes…” Gary rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid we don’t have much in common.”

“Oh but we can’t all be experts in heavy machinery,” Bobby laughed.

Noah said, “She’s not wrong, we are all eligible singles.”

“Bar Bobby,” Gary chuckled, earning an exaggerated glare and muttered protest.

“I’m pretty sure no one has used that language since, like, the olden days…” Bobby pouted. “But I’m plenty eligible.”

“How is everyone else getting on with their partners?” Ibrahim asked, eager to change the subject. His brows had started automatically furrowing every time Bobby opened his mouth. “Noah and…?” He looked at her with wide eyes.

Gary frowned. “Rose, mate.”

Ibrahim muttered a flustered apology, but Rose breezed right past it, smiling. “No worries, and… No comment on the couples. We’ve all just met.” She turned to Noah, smiling wide. “That fair?”

Noah nodded. There was a beat before everyone realized that he had nothing to say and Bobby smoothly veered the conversation in another direction. It felt strange to Rose that they were supposed to be talking about each other and their feelings the way they were. She was used to playing her cards close to her chest, but Love Island was all about the bold moves.

And then there was Noah, sweet Noah. She felt like she’d lucked out finding someone as reserved and bookish as herself. Casting had either done a great job or made two terrible mistakes for their ratings.

“I dunno,” Bobby said thoughtfully as he trifled through the bar looking for champagne flutes. “Love ain’t all rose petals all the time. I think it’s about finding someone who makes you toast when you’re sad.”

Rocco laughed, too loud. Rose didn’t take him as the nervous type but perhaps the cameras on them were getting to everyone. “Toast?”

Bobby frowned, scrunching his nose and pursing his lips cutely. “Yeah like…” He trailed off.

“Casual intimacy,” Rose supplied.

He beamed at her, grateful. “Right. Exactly.”

Rocco shook his head, laughing again. “Nah mate, you’ve got it all wrong. Love should make you sing and dance. Love should make you write poetry even if you don’t know how.”

“So love is like an English teacher?” Noah chimed in with a sly grin. He’d been quietly searching for a corkscrew and the rest of the group had all but forgotten his existence, making his sudden joke that much funnier.

Bobby laughed, clapping Noah on the back. “My man with the one-liner! Come to think of it, I think I always know I’m falling for someone when I check to see if they’re laughing at my jokes.” He threw a meaningful glance at Rose who blushed and looked at her feet.

Noah shifted his weight, looking between Rose and Bobby as if sizing up their chemistry. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that,” he frowned. “Maybe I’m not a romantic.”

Rose felt suddenly like she’d been caught, this was a kind of flirtation that happened without much effort on her part but it made her feel like she’d been shameless all the same. She reached for Noah’s arm, desperate to reassure him — if not just to assuage her slight guilt. “Everyone has their own ways of feeling and expressing things.”

“Love languages,” Rocco added unhelpfully, oblivious to Noah’s quick glare at Bobby. “Yeah?”

Before anyone could entertain Rocco’s tangent, there was a blessed little text chime from the mic bag strapped across Gary’s back. “Thank god,” he muttered. “I got a text! Would one of you er…” He pointed to the bag, just out of his reach since he wore it behind him.

“Got you.” Noah ducked behind Gary and unzipped the little pouch, freeing the phone and handing it to him.

“Challenge,” Gary explained. “Let’s go, then.”

Champagne and glasses secured, the boys and Rose followed Gary over to the loungers to read the text out to the girls.

“Islanders,” Gary read, “it’s time to find out who’s… er…” He paused and cupped a hand over the screen to see the text better. “Hot under the collar, and who’s playing it cool. Head over to the fire pit to play a game of Truth or Dare.”

The concept alone made Rose flush with embarrassment, so certain she was that Truth or Dare would push at the edges of her comfort.

Noah poured her and himself each a glass of champagne, silent as the other islanders tittered with nervous excitement. “Let’s just have a laugh,” He handed her a glass, letting their hands brush in the exchange.

She smiled, grateful for her choice of partner once again. Grateful that he seemed to be looking out for her, easily sensing her discomfort. “Right.”

As they walked arm-in-arm to the fire pit, Rose could not decide whether she felt relief or anxiety at the sight of official Love Island Truth or Dare cards. Relief stemmed from knowing that the questions and challenges were pre-determined and controlled. Anxiety came from knowing that the producers likely knew best how to create chaos. A controlled flame burned with the most heat.

As soon as the islanders were seated, Hope immediately took control of the game, pulling a card from the pile of dares without much preamble. Lottie and Rose exchanged a small glance as she began reading the card, a raised eyebrow from Lottie was met with a small shrug from Rose. Someone had to go first and Rose was glad it hadn’t been her.

“Give a foot massage to one of the other Islanders,” Hope read. She frowned as she set the card back down. “Okay…”

Rose watched Bobby tease Hannah, joking about other dares that could be in the pile, as she tried her best to ignore the way Hope was eagerly descending upon Noah’s bare feet.

“I think it’s time we get you out of your shell a bit.” Hope kneeled below Noah, smiling up at him. “Alright?”

Generally, Rose was not the type to be jealous. Especially so early in the game when she had no ownership over Noah and no reason to rightfully be upset. But the way Hope seemed to ignore her altogether coupled with the notion that Noah needed to ‘come out of his shell’ made her stomach turn. She liked that Noah was quiet and reserved, it was what she’d been attracted to in the first place. The implication, it seemed, was not just that Hope could make him better by bringing him out of his shell but also that Rose ought to leave hers as well. She stiffened, staring down at the ground in front of her, vaguely aware of Hope’s hands massaging Noah’s calves in her peripheral.

“This is officially the weirdest holiday I’ve been on,” Gary laughed.

Rose chuckled slightly, attempting to distract herself. “Seconded.”

“Alright,” Marisol said, smiling. If she was privy to the tension between the other couples, she didn’t show it. “I think that’s enough, Hope. Who’s going next?”

Hope smiled up at Rose from her place at Noah’s feet. “I know of another shell that needs cracking,” she said. “Ro?”

There it was. Of course, Hope, dazzling and outspoken as she was, would see nothing wrong with coaxing Rose and Noah’s quiet personalities out into the open. It shouldn’t hurt Rose’s feelings, but it did. There was that sinking feeling like she wasn’t good enough or interesting enough to be here. Like she’d get sent home first recoupling because she wasn’t shiny in the way the other girls were.

Bobby jumped in, too, saying, “Alright, Ro, pick a card then!”

Since when had any of them had permission to call her ‘Ro’?

Between Hope’s kind smile — as if she hadn’t been massaging Rose’s partner seconds prior — and the back and forth that had begun between Ibrahim and Rocco over whether she should choose truth or dare, Rose was overwhelmed. She picked a truth card off the top of the pile wordlessly and waited for the other islanders to quiet.

“Who do you think is the most attractive person in the villa?” She read, voice monotone, and set the card face-down in her lap. The obvious answer would be her own partner, but she could also lighten the mood by picking one of the girls… She shook her head. Easy answer, easy answer. “Noah,” she said. “Or I wouldn’t have coupled with him.”

“Makes sense,” Hope laughed. “Thought about it for quite some time, though.”

“She’s a diplomatic one,” Marisol laughed. “Right, Rosie?”

First ‘Ro’ now ‘Rosie’. Love Island fostered overfamiliarity in platonic relationships just as much as romantic ones, it seemed.

She nodded, laughing along in an attempt to hide her discomfort. “Right. Bobby, why don’t you go next?” She’d practically picked his name out of a hat, choosing him because he was the first person she made eye contact with. And from the meaningful glances Marisol had been throwing Gary throughout the game, Rose assumed this wouldn’t cause any jealousy.

“I hope I get a foot one,” Bobby joked as he picked up a dare card.

Rose giggled at his comment, immediately feeling better now that the main camera was off of her and her partner for a moment.

“Damn, no feet. But still juicy!” Bobby read, “Kiss the islander you fancy most.” A sweet blush spread across his freckled face as he set the card down. “Gettin’ right in there, then…”

As Bobby stood, appearing to weigh his choice carefully, Rose had a sinking feeling in her stomach that he would kiss her. He’d not been particularly close with his partner, and the only other girl he’d chatted with thus far had been herself. Her fears were realized as he turned and began making his way towards her.

This was Love Island, Rose reminded herself, she should expect kissing during challenges. She had known what she was getting into when she signed up, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was a chaste-kiss-on-the-third-date kind of person to her core.

Bobby, for his part, seemed completely calm and collected in the face of a challenge kiss. But as he bent towards her and leaned in, Rose was surprised to see him stop dead a few inches from her face. He smiled and held so still that Rose could count the freckles dancing on his face.

“May I kiss you on the cheek?” He asked.

She could have fainted with joy and relief all at once. So hung up on the logistics of kissing Bobby, she’d failed to recognize just how much she would like to kiss Bobby. The gentleness of him stopping in her discomfort and asking permission was pleasant surprise enough to cement her desire to get to know Bobby better. She nodded, a smile overtaking her face as she turned to offer a cheek.

Bobby’s warm hand found the bottom of her chin and angled her face up ever-so-slightly. The gentle touch of his soft hand coupled with short breaths on her cheek gave her goosebumps. He just barely brushed his mouth against her face, pressing a quick kiss closer to her temple than the apple of her cheek. She could feel the smile on his lips.

As he retreated, they exchanged a shy smile, and she supposed she could no longer be jealous of Noah’s foot massage.

-

“Rocco has an… interesting perspective on bisexuality, but otherwise all of the guys seem quite nice,” Rose said as she arranged her makeup on her section of counter in the dressing room. Dismissed from the challenge, the islanders had been allowed to wander the property and begin unpacking. Rose had settled herself between Lottie’s station and an unclaimed space on the end, offering up some of her storage up as shelter for Lottie’s excessive makeup collection. “Use all the space you like, I’ve got plenty.”

Lottie gave Rose a grateful smile as she began carefully scooting some of her lipsticks around the counter divider and into the shelf beside Rose’s mirror. They were alone, the other girls having left them long ago to get a jump on grafting. “You can totally steal from me if you want,” Lottie said. “Rent payment for using your storage.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rose laughed. She was almost certain that none of Lottie’s vampy lipsticks would suit her, but it was nice to feel as though she’d made an ally.

Marisol stepped into the room, hands on her hips. “I got a text,” she said through gritted teeth. “They’re dropping the bombshell tonight.”

“You’re kidding!” Lottie tensed and accidentally knocked over one of her lipstick tubes, it clattered and rolled to the ground. “Not even one day in?”

Rose ducked under the counter and picked up the fallen lippy. “I suppose we should all have a chat with our partners, then?”

Marisol nodded. “That would be prudent.”

With a sigh, Rose handed Lottie her stray lipstick. “My cue to stop avoiding Noah.”

“Avoiding already? I thought you two were getting on.” Marisol leaned against the doorway, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“We were, but Truth or Dare was…”

“Odd?” Lottie supplied.

“Odd,” Rose agreed. “I think Hope’s got her eyes on him.”

“And you’ve got your eyes on my partner,” Marisol said. “I never thought a kiss on the cheek could be so steamy…”

Rose opened and closed her mouth like a fish. What was she meant to say to that? She knew for a fact that Marisol and Bobby didn’t have feelings for each other, but she hadn’t considered that Marisol might still be upset with girls flirting with him on principal. And the kiss had been for a challenge, nothing more. Unavoidable.

“I’m kidding, you know,” Marisol said, though she didn’t sound like she was kidding. “I don’t fancy Bobby much.”

“And we know the kiss was just for a challenge, right?” Lottie said, emphasizing pointedly at Marisol.

Rose was grateful she’d given up some of her makeup storage to get a terrifying Aussie in her corner. “I like Noah,” she said. “And Bobby is nice, but I don’t want to step on any toes.”

“You’re not,” Lottie assured her. She gave Rose’s shoulder a pat as she stood from her vanity stool. “Let’s go find our boys.”

Rose followed Lottie as she pushed past Marisol, waiting until they were well out of earshot before saying, “Thank you for having my back.”

“Don’t mention it, you know I’m all about girl code. And there’s a huge difference between someone’s partner coming onto you and you coming onto someone’s partner.”

“Right.”

“Besides, she’s being territorial for the sake of it. Bobby could walk out of the Villa right now and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash.” She slid open the back door and looked out over the lawn. “Ah, there’s Rocco at the bar. That’s me sorted.” She smiled back at Rose. “Good luck with Noah, babes.”

“Good luck with what?” Noah’s voice called up as he climbed up the stairs from the lawn. “You have Rose up there?”

Lottie gave a facetiously serious nod as she passed him. “She’s all yours.”

Noah took the last of the steps two at a time and jogged towards Rose on the deck. “Were you looking for me?” He asked.

Rose smiled up at Noah, enjoying the feeling of being his partner that came from seeking each other out after a bombshell text. It was nice to know that he was thinking of her, even if their current relationship was a postured one. “I was, how’d you know?”

He chuckled, “Little birdie?”

“Little birdie with very good eyeliner and an Aussie accent?”

“The very same.” He took her hand. “Let’s sit.”

Rose allowed herself to be pulled by the hand to the deck steps. From where she and Noah sat, they could see almost all of the other couples also having their respective ‘Where is your head at?’ conversations. Lottie chatting at a disinterested Rocco, Hope and Ibrahim kicking their feet in the pool, Gary and Hannah frowning at each other on one of the daybeds. Things weren’t looking good for the Villa at the moment.

“How are you feeling, now that we’re…” Noah checked an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Surely no more than two hours out from the last time we had one of these conversations?”

Rose smiled, appreciating his humor, but she was beginning to feel the effects of the Villa being a place outside of time. As absurd as it was, they did actually have to have a talk again so soon. “Truthfully, I’m feeling a bit strange about Truth or Dare. Between Hope’s dare and Bobby’s…” She frowned, trying to think of the words, fully aware now of the cameraman that had settled beside Noah, filming their talk up close.

Noah waited for her to finish her thought, his expression betraying nothing.

Finally, she said, “I think I’d like to get to know Bobby more, and I don’t mind if you’d like to get to know Hope more.”

He nodded slowly as if considering her words and weighing his reply carefully against her statement. He said, “I had a nice conversation with Hope earlier, while you were…” He trailed off and jutted a thumb back towards the Villa to indicate her previous location.

As he said this, Rose couldn’t help but feel a touch of jealousy once again. It was absurd, really. Hope had just as much a right to get to know Noah as she did, but the idea of it still made her chest ache. The idea of being *not chosen by someone, regardless of the context, was painful in itself. “But with the bombshell,” she carried on, needing to veer the conversation away from Hope. “If it’s another guy, I’d prefer to stay with you so that you remain safe. If we have any say in it, that is. I’m not expecting the same of you.” She paused, taking a breath. “But, that’s just where I stand.”

“I wouldn’t want to leave you vulnerable either,” Noah said, frowning. “But if it’s their pick?”

“It very well may be.” Rose squeezed his hand. “Then no hard feelings if we get split up?”

Noah laughed, a surprised chuckle but welcome all the same. “Optimistic of you.”

“I’m just saying!” She giggled, happy for the levity brought by Noah’s rare laughter. “Some things are out of our hands, that’s what makes this whole thing interesting. It’s good to discern what we can’t control so we can focus on the things that we can control.”

“That’s wise.”

Rose was unsure whether this was a genuine compliment from Noah or if he was just humoring her, but she continued, “Especially in here, emotions are going to run high because that’s what makes good television. We have to do our best not to let it get the better of us.”

Noah leaned back against the wooden steps and studied the sky. Somehow, the sun was already beginning to sink below the horizon, casting its last bits of golden light across the infinity pool beneath them. The cameraman that had been trained on them pulled away and wandered off, leaving Rose and Noah to settle into another sweet, comfortable silence.

Perhaps, Rose thought, she could keep sane in Love Island by boring the cameramen away at every turn. She may not be a fan favorite that way, but if she was in it for love that shouldn’t matter.

“I’m feeling very lucky to have such a levelheaded partner,” Noah said, finally.

Rose bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’re quite levelheaded, yourself.”

“Just levelheaded?” Noah teased, a hint of a grin playing at his lips. “You’re awful at flirting.”

She giggled. “Okay, yes I am. But you started that.”

Noah pulled back and studied her. She felt warm under his gaze, studied but without the scrutiny promised by the cameras. The observation from Noah’s deep brown eyes was pleasant if only a bit intense. He said nothing for a long beat, so Rose allowed herself to study him in kind. Squaring her shoulders, she let her eyes flicker over his smooth features, wondering how someone could look so perfect. She traced the long eyelashes that fluttered over lovely dark eyes, just above a perfect nose and pretty lips, committing each line and curve to memory.

“You are so gorgeous.” Before she could help it, Rose had lost the quiet staring competition. The smile that her statement got out of Noah was worth it, however. Sweet lips parted just enough to reveal perfect teeth.

Every one of Noah’s smiles felt like a gift.

“Would it be cheesy to say I was thinking the same?”

She turned away, blinded by Noah’s sincerity and his perfect teeth. A soft hand came up to her chin, turning her back towards him.

“Look at me,” he said. And the falling sun burned a few shades brighter. “It is cheesy, but I meant it.”

Rose forced herself to meet his gaze, relieved to see nothing but that intense openness in his eyes, no sign that he was lying to her. “I meant it too,” she said, like it was a challenge.

Noah smirked. “Then we’re in agreement.” Smug confidence suited him frustratingly well.

Below them on the lawn, the other couples were separating and wandering up towards the Villa, someone must have gotten a text instructing them to start getting ready for the night’s party.

“Is there anything else we need to talk about?” Rose spoke slowly, acutely aware of Noah’s hand on her chin, his thumb still hovering below her bottom lip. “There is something I’d like to make right,” he said.

Rose swallowed. “What is that?”

“I’m a bit bothered by the fact that we’re in a couple and Bobby — of all people — has kissed you and I haven’t.”

“A kiss on the cheek,” Rose said, “and I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

Noah turned her face to the side and leaned in, pressing his lips against her cheek. She felt so dizzied at such a small gesture that it was almost laughable.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he said. “But I do like things to be fair.”

He let her go and stood, waving at the other islanders as they climbed up the deck. The thumb that had brushed Rose’s lips just a moment earlier was hooked in the pocket of his swim trunks like nothing had ever happened.

When Lottie made it up the steps and offered a hand, Rose was still sitting at Noah’s feet, gathering her composure.

“Rocco is going to make me lose it.” Lottie rubbed at her temples. “Debrief in the dressing room?”

Rose pressed a hand absentmindedly to the place where Noah’s lips had been and smiled. “Sure thing.”

-

thank you so much for reading and for all of the notes on the first chapter, i was afraid that the fandom would be too dead for another rewrite fic but it doesn't seem like it is! comments and reblogs are always appreciated!! these chapters keep being so much longer and more difficult to write than i expect them to be, but i do hope to keep updating frequently! <3

tags: @starsarestars

[a-queer-seminarian]

Hello, you seem to be knowledgeable about god. Do you know where to find him and what his weaknesses are? I have dedicated my life to hunting him down and killing him for the indescribable amount of suffering he has directly or indirectly caused.

cw: violent language, including about fighting / killing God; as well as discussion of the Shoah / Holocaust later on in the post

(gonna start this long-ass response by saying that yes, i know this anon is probably joking about dedicating their life to hunting down God, but i’m gonna answer it like they’re serious because that’s the kind of person i am haha)

honestly anon, all power to ya! it sounds like my own understanding of God is quite different from yours (for instance, i would claim that God’s main weakness is actually Their best strength, which is compassion and steadfast solidarity) -- but the question of why God allows suffering is one i come back to all the damn time.

if you do track God down -- if God turns out to be a Being that can be tracked down to one location and time -- please do deliver my regards and my sincerest “WTF??”

you’re not the first to demand God answer for the suffering that’s happened on Their watch --

for if God is truly omnipotent, and truly all-loving, why don’t they do something about all this pain??? Indeed, the Bible is rich with similar demands -- from the psalmists to Job to Jesus himself from the cross (quoting a psalm, he cries, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me??”).

You might already know all this, but if not, the question of God’s place in suffering is often referred to as theodicy, at least in Christian circles.

That term comes from the Greek for god + justice, so what it literally means is “justifying (or vindicating) God”....which I’m not a huge fan of, because it implies that when we explore this question of where God is in suffering, we already know the result will be that God will be proven innocent (or at least “not guilty”).

But do we know that?? See the bottom of this post for an example of a time people of great faith found God guilty!

Anyway, theodicy describes intellectual efforts “to jerry-rig three mutually exclusive terms into harmony: divine power, goodness, and the experiences of evil.“ - Wendy Farley

If you want to learn more about theodicy and the way some theologians have “made sense” of suffering, check out this introductory post I’ve got.

Or wander through my whole #theodicy tag over on my other blog.

I invite you to explore theodicy not in any attempt to convince you of anything, but so you know some of the arguments you’re up against! Honestly, the more i explore theodicy, the less satisfied i am with any justifications for why God doesn’t intervene in the face of so much suffering...so if you do the reading and still conclude God is guilty, i’m not gonna tell you you’re definitely wrong.

Anyway. Like i said, you’re not alone in wanting answers for why God -- however, i don’t know that i’ve seen anyone else with your determination to find and kill God!

(Except, and i hate that i know this lol, that’s apparently the plot of the final season of Supernatural -- they find out God’s a total ass who not only is guilty of negligence but also directly responsible for a lot of suffering for his own sadistic enjoyment. so. they kill the bastard.)

Still, while i don’t know that i’ve seen too many people who want to take God out, the idea of wrestling God is pervasive -- especially within Judaism, but also among some Christians.

i’m very into wrestling God, myself, finding it far more faithful to the God who gifted us free will and invites us into true, mutual relationship than unquestioning obedience.

i have a whole #wrestling God tag over on my other blog.

For the most intense example of wrestling with God i’ve yet seen, with God put on trial and found guilty, keep reading.

_________

cw: discussion of the Shoah / Holocaust below

You might connect to Elie Wiesel’s play The Trial of God, or the movie that was made based off it. Wiesel survived Nazi concentration camps but ceased to believe in God after what he suffered. His play was inspired by something he witnessed while a teen at Auschwitz:

"I witnessed a strange trial. Three rabbis—all erudite and pious men—decided one winter evening to indict God for allowing his children to be massacred. I remember: I was there, and I felt like crying. But nobody cried."

Robert McAfee Brown wrote more about this trial Wiesel witnessed:

“The trial lasted several nights. Witnesses were heard, evidence was gathered, conclusions were drawn, all of which issued finally in a unanimous verdict: the Lord God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, was found guilty of crimes against creation and humankind.”

Note that in 2008 when commenting on this event, Wiesel clarified that “At the end of the trial, they used the word chayav, rather than ‘guilty.’ It means ‘He owes us something.’”

In the chapter “No God, Only Auschwitz” of his book Embracing Hopelessness, Miguel A. De La Torre comments on this verdict by explaining that if God wasn’t going to intervene, then God must at the least speak -- but instead, God was silent:

“God must be held accountable for refusing to speak to those yearning for God’s voice. Something. Anything. A note of solidarity. A testament of love, accompaniment. But they hear and receive nothing. The trial...ends with God owing us something.

De La Torre goes on to describe the play Wiesel wrote based on this memory, which actually takes place in a 1649 Ukranian village, rather than at Auschwitz. The Cossacks raid the village and kill all but two of its Jewish residents.

“In Wiesel’s play, he has the inkeeper Berish voice the same questions those sitting in death camps centuries later asked, if not audibly, then silently:

‘To mention God’s mercy in Shamgorod [Auschwitz] is an insult. Speak of his cruelty instead. ...I want to understand why. He is giving strength to the killers and nothing but tears and the shame of helplessness to the victims. ...Either he is responsible or He is not. If He is, let’s judge him; if He is not, let him stop judging us. ...

‘[I] accuse Him of hostility, cruelty and indifference. ...Either He knows what’s happening to us, or He doesn’t wish to know! In both cases He is...guilty! Would a father stand by, quietly, silently, and watch his children being slaughtered?’”

De La Torre continues with his own thoughts on all this:

“The horrors humanity faces indict God as being less loving and attentive than sinful parents. I hesitate to make any pronouncements as to the character of God because in the final analysis, I lack any empirical knowledge upon which to base my study. Still with all my heart and being I want to say: my God is the God of the oppressed who incarnates Godself among the least of these.

I want to make this bold claim based on the testimony of the gospel witness. But in the midst of the dark night, I confess this hopeful belief is at best a tenet accepted by faith, lacking any means of proving the truth or falsehood of the claim. In the shadow of Auschwitz, though I am not Jewish, nonetheless I am left wondering if the precious Deity who notices the fall of a sparrow is blind to God’s children crushed in the winepress. Do I dare wonder if God is the God of the oppressors?

...Or maybe this is a God who really wants to do good, but lacks the power to do anything in the face of inhumanity. ..."

There’s one more piece to this tale of Wiesel’s witness of the trial of God at Auschwitz. And that is that, after declaring God guilty (or chayav)...

...after what Wiesel describes as an "infinity of silence", the Talmudic scholar looked at the sky and said "It's time for evening prayers", and the members of the tribunal recited Maariv, the evening service. (McAfee Brown)

...That ending is the part that astounds and awes me. These Jewish prisoners at Auschwitz find God guilty -- and then proceed to pray as they always do. I am reminded of what my Jewish friends as well as various Jewish scholars have told me: that Judaism is totally compatible with wrestling with God and even with disbelief. Whether these Jewish prisoners believed God even existed, they prayed -- because that tradition of prayer is what unites them to one another, to their people.

As De La Torre closes his telling of Wiesel’s story,

“At the conclusion of the movie God on Trial, based on the events Wiesel described, shortly after the barrack inmates find God guilty, and those chosen are marched to the gas chamber, they cover their heads and pray. ...

Believers and unbelievers who took the audacious act of placing God on trial do what is totally illogical -- in the midst of their hopelessness they demonstrate their faith as they march toward the gas chambers, or they defiantly embrace who they are while still remaining in heated conversation, damning God. It matters not if God still hears their prayers, or if there even is a God to hear; they still pray, they still debate -- not for God’s sake, but for their own.”

And that brings me to the one bit of actual advice I’ll give you, anon:

If you want to spend your life “hunting God down,” as I said, all power to you! But I do suggest you ponder for whose sake you do so -- and whether you do so for justice or just revenge. What good does such a quest do for those who are suffering now? Are their other paths you could follow that would bring more good? What about your own healing? I imagine you’re not interested in repairing any relationship with religion -- would walking away from God rather than hounding God be a more healing and fruitful path for your finite life?

I’ll close with one more quote from De La Torre, from the very end of his chapter:

“As I stroll through what was once the concentration camp of Dachau, I am cognizant that this space witnessed the unspeakable horrors that befell God’s children at the hands of Christians hoping for a better, purer society and future. ...So do not offer me your words of hope; offer me your praxis for justice. ...In the midst of unfathomable suffering, the earth’s marginalized no longer need pious pontifications about rewards in some hereafter. Nor do they need their oppressors providing the answers for their salvation. What is needed is disruption of the norm to push humanity toward an unachievable justice.

When there is nothing to lose, when work does not set you free, not only are multiple possibilities opened up with new opportunities for radical change unimaginable to those playing it safe; but also a venue is provided by which to get real with whatever this God signifies. ...”

[shinidamachu]

What are some of your favorite InuYasha fanfiction stories? 😙

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE VERY FIRST PERSON TO ASK ME THIS QUESTION! PLEASE, CLICK ON THE FOLLOWING LINKS TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE:

Light Me a Lantern by @inuyashasforest: a lot of feelings for this one. It was the first Inukag multichapter fanfic I have ever read and boy am I glad I did. It’s a must read. I don’t know how Hanyo no Yashahime will fall into the Inuyasha universe, but if it turns out to be garbage, I’m more than happy to accept Light Me a Lantern as canon instead. Send tweet.

Little by Little by @little-known-artist: cutest post-canon fanfic in all land! It will make you smile. It will make you laugh. It will make you a little horny. That being said, it will also make you cry, but trust me: you’re gonna be grateful for it.

You Rescued Me by @keichanz: this fic it’s a party and I’m the piñata, there’s no other way to put it. Heather is a storytelling master, like... she could post her grocery shopping list and I’d be reading the hell out of it!

The Captain and the Hanyo by @goshinote: I love the whole premise of this fic and how much effort Jane puts in every detail. It’s like I’m living in it and I wish I was. It’s the story I’m currently reading and it’s so, so sweet and exciting!

Cruel Summer by @akitokihojo: you know shit is about to go down when Angie drops a Taylor Swift song titled fic. Now that Folklore is out I’m honestly scared for my life.

Pennies and Dimes by @witchygirl99:  SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part one)

Delicate by @akitokihojo: SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part two)

A Night to Remember by @angelhartsblog: I want you to close your eyes. Now I want you to think about the perfect Inukag first time. Open your eyes. Did you think about A Night To Remember? No? That’s because you haven’t read it yet, pal. What are you waiting for?

The Gorgon and the Dog Demon by @cstormsinukagblog​: I’m in too deep HELP!

Mating Fever by @clearwillow: let’s face it, this one is a classic already! The concept of this story was executed so well. Nothing was held back. You can tell Carra had as much fun writing it as we had reading it.

Pretending To Pretend by splendentgoddess: IF BOTH THE LAST HARD COPY OF THIS FIC AND MY COUSIN WERE ON FIRE... I’d still save my cousin but only because I reread Pretending to Pretend so many times I could probably write it down again myself, word for word. Also, my mom would never let me hear the end of it. But, like... it’s still a close one.

Bakin’ Cakes/Patty-Cake by @artistefish​: if I had two lives to give to Bloodhound and Kitten then two lives I’d give them.

Risks by @stoatsandweasels: THE CHARACTERIZATION, THE DIALOGUES, THE SMUT... Definition of *chef’s kiss*. The stars really aligned for this one, let me tell ya. Good. Fucking. Food.

Cam You See Me? by @keichanz​: Smut Queen at her best. LONG LIVE!

Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves by @starlingchildgazingatthestars: I feel like this fic should be written on a very big, very old, hard covered book. And someone should read it to me every night before I go to sleep. Every new chapter deepens the plot and the character so much. I’m hooked.

Belief/Resist by @dangerouspompadour​: my first thought on it was “man, I wish I could leave a thousand kudos” because it’s one of my favorite tropes ever and the story was told with such delicacy and honesty. Nailed their personalities to their cores.

Freak Attraction/Freak Attraction: Seven-Man Circus by @artistefish: this fic is the epitome of galaxy brain. How do someone eve come up with something so incredible? The world building is so fucking good, are you kidding me?

Oblivion by @meggz0rz: this one needs no comments... But I’m gonna comment anyway: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spetacular, never-the-same, totally unique.

Beautiful Stranger by splendentgoddess: WHAT A RIDE, MY FRIENDS! BUCKLE THE FUCK UP!

Missing by @ajoy3fanfics: it’s called ‘missing’ because after you finish the whole thing you just miss it so fucking much! I remember how obsessed with it I became, refreshing the page for updates. I was a woman possessed. I spent about 80% of my time talking about this fic, and the other 20% of the time, I was praying for someone else to bring it up so I could talk about it more.

The Delinquent Boyfriend by @artistefish: book one of Inukag Holy Bible.

Out Of The Woods by @dyaz-stories: okay so there are only two chapters so far but the plot it’s captivating as hell! And the writing it’s flawless. If you haven’t read it yet, please do and tell Dya I sent you and I miss her ass.

Guardian by @ruddcatha​: my nerdy ass feels seen and represented.

Knit and Lace by @doginabirdcage: if you’re part of the Inukag fandom you’re legally obligated to read this fanfic. This is not even a joke. Do you know someone who hasn’t read it? No! And you shouldn’t because it’s fucking awesome.

Call You Mine by @lavendertwilight89​: every word on this is a drop of dopamine I swear.

Enchanted by @akitokihojo: I was in the middle of studying for one of the most important tests of my life when Enchanted came around. Was it insane of me to drop everything to read it? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes.

The Half Breed’s Wife by @gypsin: I’m gonna be honest here, this better update before I die otherwise I’m simply not going. RIP to everyone who will pass away without knowing how The Half Breed’s Wife ends but I’m different.

The It Couple by @meggz0rz: OH, YEAH,THE COOL KID OF FANFICS! *Vogue by Madonna starts playing*

It's About Time by @akitokihojo: first fic by Angie I have ever read! Flashback to two-years-ago me picking her chin off the floor. I still can believe I could read this for free? It feels wrong that I could, but also, like: thank God!

The Maid and the Bodyguard by @dyaz-stories: this is the fic you want to take home to your mama. You’d get on one knee for this fic. You’d buy it a diamond ring. You’d profess my undying love for it and you’d spend the rest of your life trying to prove to this fic I’m worthy of it.

Something Real by Angelica Pierce: so this is one of the best oneshots I have ever read in my entire life. It is also the one and only work signed by this author known to mankind. Which I take as a personal offense. To me. Personally.

Mars and Venus by @doginabirdcage: have you ever read something so clever you’re mad about it? Like HOW DARE YOU BE SO SMART? Genius, really. I read it so long ago and it blows me away to this day.

I Knew You Before I Met You by @keichanz: book two of Inukag Holy Bible.

House Mates by honeybee31: “and they were roommates.” “OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES!” Domestic Inukag? In my fic rec? It’s more likely than you think.

The Language He Speaks by @akitokihojo​: if I was half as beautiful as this fic... I’d be kissing so many mouths... The possibilities...

Fingertips by @shinjiteflorana: this is the level of writing I aspire to achieve someday.

PS: I could never, in a billion years, rank these fanfiction, so please keep in mind they are in no way ordered by personal preference. I just love them all. Also, I’m messy.

PS²: believe it or not, I really tried to narrow this down. If I were to tag every Inuyasha fanfiction I love ever, it would get insane huge. This is a not exhaustive, very humble list of my favorites as requested above and I had to draw the line somewhere, otherwise I’d just keep going forever.

PS³: I’ll never get tired of saying that this fandom is crazy talented! Making this fic rec was so hard because there are so many awesome creators out there putting out new content for us every single day. I would like you to know that, even if I had to leave some works out, I appreciate and support each one of them. Thank you so much for keeping the Inuyasha fandom alive!

PS⁴: if you’re reading this, feel free to recommend or tag me in Inuyasha fanfics. Add some of your favorites to this post. Give the authors some love!

[herstarburststories]

Make Me Yours

Day 4 of Kinktober: Body Ownership

Day 4 of Suptober: Branded

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader

Summary: Michael wants you to be his.

A/N: I swear I'm not that pornography on daily basis I'm even more, but branding is very kinky here. I also strongly support you listening to False God while reading. @itsangelpie @deanmonandnegansbitch, this is the Michael one I was talking about xD

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v, bit of power play, marking, brief fingering, grace

CATCH UP KINKTOBER & SUPTOBER

Michael enjoyed leaving a trace behind like any other powerful celestial.

Once, the loyal son convinced himself that it was because he wanted, not only humans, but his siblings, father, and any other being to know that he could be a savior like he was built to be. No matter what, he was a righteous warrior who would do anything his beloved father wanted him to. He was a perfect soldier, earning nothing but pride and all the head pats possible. 

At least, that was before. It was back when Michael thought that God truly loved him and that he had a bigger purpose than gaining adoration from his fragile humans to overthrow Lucifer — his little brother, the archangel that was thrown away like a rough draft. Now, Michael couldn't care less about living up to his goody two shoes reputation. He didn't care about his brothers and sisters either, much less the humans. The archangel wouldn't say that he hated them like Lucifer foolishly did. His brother was wrapped in a bubble of jealousy that was almost embarrassing. No, breakable things didn't deserve attention. Michael just didn't care about them or their little world. All of his heaven-made goals had melted into one thing to look forward to — getting Chuck back to kill him.

So what if he had to burn a couple of dimensions and their human inhabitants? That was just an unfortunate side effect of Chuck’s little creations being the only thing that could catch his attention.

Burn a book? Get the author’s fury.

Michael was more than satisfied with the idea of leaving a trace of calamitous fire behind. It was such a beautiful legacy that would put fear into the atmosphere of the universe, and Michael would be God. He would be better one — the evolved version of what he’d always been as an archangel.

The torn holes of vulnerability inside of him had only grown wider, gaping into an open wound when his father left him as though Michael were as useless as a broken toy. That wicked, selfish side said it was because he wanted everyone to know how terrible he can be — fear him so no one will ever be close enough to hurt him again. 

Terror had worked better than adoration for millenniums. 

The archangel is good with that. Unlike his father, Michael's ego is as big as the amount of blood in his hands, not the people on their knees or the number of démodé cathedrals to worship him in the name of a bible that he never wrote. He doesn't need humanity’s adoration.

You bit your bottom lip to contain a smile, glancing at him. Michael could read from your mind and erratic heartbeat that you were both excited and curious about what was going to happen. Yet, he didn't need to. He knew your body — that perfect body — very well by himself with no help of his powers.

Correction: he needs one human's worship.

As mentioned beforehand, powerful beings like to leave a trace behind for multiple reasons: marking their territory like a big dog, making a point to gain respect through terror, or boosting their self-confidence. 

“Get on all fours, little one.”

For the first time, Michael wanted to make someone a living reminder of him. He wanted to mark a human for being his: you.

You were obedient, quickly moving to the position that he had asked. You can hear Michael humming in satisfaction, moving in such a quiet way that you almost feel surprised when he placed his hand on your back.

Michael watched your body with care, his fingers dancing with tenderness on your skin. He used to believe that a vessel was everything a human body was worth. Sex was a foreign concept, nothing but an earthling’s attempt not to feel alone — if they weren't fighting, they were fucking. It got boring after the first few centuries.

And then, you happened.

“So marvelous, little one.” His words were laced with gruffness, startling a whimper out of you. “All of this…” He held your waist and pulled you back swiftly. You gasped, feeling his hardness against your ass. Michael didn't slide in, but he kept rubbing himself on you. “All of you…” One of his hands slid down your body, making way for his fingers to catch your sweet spot. You were so warm and wet: there was nothing on Heaven, Earth, or Hell as splendid your needy cunt. “Who do you belong to, Y/N?”

“To you, Michael. I belong to you. Please.” You should be ashamed of begging so early, but how could you judge yourself? Michael's hard cock behind you, making your ass dirty with precum along with two fingers inside your pussy and his possessive words stewing inside your head — you were still just a human, after all. “I need you.”

It was blissful, to have someone he was enchanted by to worship him as the Sabaeans did to the stars.

“Patience is a virtue, little one.” The archangel wore a proud smirk, adding another finger into your wet mess. You groaned in response, pressing your hips to his pelvis in an obvious attempt for more.

Michael's cock welcomed the growing arousal, dropping more precum than before and twitching. It was difficult not to give himself any relief, but he had to teach you a lesson before taking you again. Religion came with strict rules.

He pulled away from you, grabbing your neck from behind only to push your head on the bed. Your cheek to the mattress made it was painfully easy for reality to sink in: the archangel’s fingers on your bare skin, his fingers that were inside you. There was something uniquely blasphemous about sinning like this.

“You take what I give you, and you're grateful for that. Understood?” He howled, tightening his hold on you. “I picked you.”

“Yes, master.” The two words fought to leave your mouth before ultimately escaping. You know you should be afraid, but your soul refuses to welcome any feeling other than excitement. Michael didn't even use his grace yet. He wouldn't hurt you: at least, not enough for you to suffer. Everything he did to your body was a blessing.

“Good.” He exhaled, letting go of your neck. The archangel had been way too patient, and you waited long enough. You dared turn your head to look at him, and Michael was divine. His gorgeous body was crouched with his knees on the bed while he patiently observed you. His length was large and rock hard against your leg. You just wanted to give him release. “Like what you see?”

You gulped, nodding furiously. The archangel chortled before he slid his cock inside you without any other warning.

You let out a shamefully loud scream. What else could you do? His cock was fucking its way inside you, cleansing your body with the prayer of being everything you could ever need or want: to feel holy, to feel full. Michael grunted, grabbing your hips to pull you closer, and you moved back and forth in sync with him. Soon, the bed was the one clamoring with noise. Both of you became hollow when you were like this — hungry, craving for something to fill up your empty pieces.

Michael was the right hand of God, the protector — whatever treasures he chose to deify would be eternal because he could make it happen. And for Heaven, he adored you.

His cock found your G-spot, and his grace flooded into your veins as if it was meant to be there. Your walls were tighter and tighter around him, and you couldn't wait to feel his load inside you, marking you from inside. There was a wash of glowing pleasure in your body. You had never felt so light before. This felt like the precipice of your glorified religion, and God, you could make a church out of this.

“That's it, my love.” Michael moaned, his eyes bright blue as he fucked himself into you. You bit the pillow to keep another scream down. He squeezed your waist. There was something burning in your bones with a painful pleasure as his hand glowed. He was branding you as his, writing his symbol all over your soul, bones, and heart. And you were enjoying every single ache of it. “Cum for me. I want to hear you coming for me.”

He may be a false god, but he certainly brought you to heaven.

Your lips parted into a moan as your juice came all over his pulsating cock, and Michael came inside you in a rush. Everything hurt as if he had rearranged your bones, but it was as comfortable as if they were all snapped back together in the right places. You fell on the bed out of exhaustion, wondering if you'd live to see another day. All of you seemed to be on fire, much more than the other times. Your pussy was pulsing, and you could smell him all over your skin. He had made your body his. You were his.

Michael pulled away from you, a lopsided grin on his lips as he glanced at his possession. The archangel laid down, pulling your tired body to him. You clung to Michael while trying to breathe properly. What had just happened?

“Wh — What was that?”

“I marked you, little one.” Michael gave you a devilish grin while his eyes shone a dazzling blue. He was the apocalypse of your soul, and you couldn't wait for the sweet destruction. “Now, everyone will know that you are mine. Your pussy, all your body, and your soul. You belong to me, Y/N.” He had everything now. The world and you. He was ethereal. “I'm your god now.”

You made an altar out of him, and you'd always be a loyalist to this love, no matter the sacrifices you'd have to do for this. 

Leave a comment and reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my day 1,2&3 of kinktober & day 3 of suptober, and my masterlist ♡

Dean's sweethearts: @akshi8278 @hardcoresupernatural

Hunters: @demonhunterbarbie @bi-danvers0 @emilyshurley @desimarie12

Kinktober taglist: @psych0crybaby

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK OR DM.

[greenbriar-j]

Muscle Memory, full wip, unedited 4.7k, scroll at ur own risk; tagging some people who showed previous interest @halleiswriting @chazzawrites @pe-ersona @druidx and also @pens-swords-stuff this is what I’ve been up to lately

Saint Joseph’s Catholic Church bustles with activity. It’s peculiar, for it being a weekday. More peculiar still that the bustling is being done by young men and women who could very well be engaging in��� more satisfying summer indulgences.

The Youth Group’s power couple sweeps in an hour late, ever put together even when, by all rights, they ought to be melting right out of their fancy outfits. Cheers rise from the crowd when they appear, each splitting off in their own directions to their own stations.

Y Nhi beelines for the painters, flicking her sleek ponytail to make sure it’s out of the way. The girls hand her a brush while detailing what’s left to be done. Vinny bustles for the sound technicians - who, really, are already done for the day, but are staying for the social factor.

Two things to note about St. Joseph’s power couple:

Y Nhi isn’t sure she believes in God very much anymore.

They are not a couple, but it’s easier to let everyone think so than to correct it.

“Jude,” Mary says (everyone calls her Jude because she and Vinny made a big deal of it years ago), “Are you sure you can’t help out during the week?”

Y Nhi shrugs. She’s not busy or anything, but it feels wrong to shepherd children into a religion she’s falling out of - even if Vacation Bible School had been one of her favorite summer memories for her entire life. That’s where she met Vinny, after all.

Vinny, laughing with the guys at the sound booth. To be more accurate, Vinny himself is only smirking, but that’s as close to a laugh as he gets around here. Stupid smirk. Stupid boy.

“I have work. Unfortunately,” Y Nhi mutters, dragging her brush across a cardboard cutout. “Vinny’s taking the week off, so I’m picking up his slack.”

Mary grins widely at that. “I swear it’s like you’re married.”

For whatever reason, Y Nhi’s heart clenches at that. Picturing herself and Vinny in wedding attire on the altar sickens her, but putting a faceless someone in her place makes her feel worse. But it’s not like she likes him. She’s sworn to herself that she’d become a cat lady in her old age - her army has already begun with a fluffy black kitten. It’s not looking too good for her future; Toothless likes Vinny more than her. She’s already failed as a parent.

Belatedly, Y Nhi realizes she’s supposed to be engaging in a conversation, not thinking about Vinny and their co-parenting of a cat. If it can be called that.

“Don’t hold your breath. The wedding is a long way off,” she says tightly. Like. Never. Never is a long, long way off.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

This time, Y Nhi lets the comment slide. She paints while singing under her breath, as she always does. A long time ago, she had no qualms about belting it out, but time has weathered away her volume, reducing it to only this. No one’s noticed the change or found it strange.

The conversation turns to something - anything - else. Degrees, internships, other boys who don’t dress in all black and aren’t named Vincent Truong. Y Nhi listens, but doesn’t contribute.

By the time the call goes out for a lunch break, Y Nhi is finishing three tasks at once. One of the other girls brings her a burger, slathered with ketchup and mayo and tomatoes. Y Nhi thanks her and continues wrapping one of the white pillars in cardboard paper to simulate a palm tree.

Not long after, someone nudges her. Eyes flickering upward, she’s met with the bored eyes of her very best friend. “Bite.”

She doesn’t, not yet.

Vinny wiggles the burger he’s holding in front of her mouth. “Only half a slice of cheese. No tomatoes. Freshest patty of the batch. Eat.”

She still doesn’t take the bait, even though he’s tailored this burger to her weirdly specific tastes.

Vinny sighs. “Jude. No one’s watching you. I promise all they can see is my back.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” It’s true she had a complex about eating in public for a while, for reasons she’s never told anyone including him. “Just not hungry.”

“Not very Gucci of you to lie in the house of God.”

“Not very Gucci of you to breathe.”

“Jude! The fuck, man.” But he’s grinning. Not the half-assed grin he gives everyone else, but an honest, mirthful grin reserved for Toothless and Y Nhi only (usually Toothless. Damn cat).“Just eat this, okay? I’ll eat the other one.” His whole demeanor softens as he picks up the burger she had ignored - the one that is surely cold by now.

She is hungry. After all, the reason they were late is because Vinny had to coax her to every step of getting ready this morning. He even applied her eyeliner with the even strokes of a practiced hand - so practiced that even Y Nhi admits it looks like her own work. If she had a choice, she would waste away in bed for the day, but Vinny has never been much of a fan of that plan.

According to her own plan, Y Nhi had been wasting away since before yesterday’s dinner. Famished might be a better word to describe her present state.

But today is one of those days that she feels guilty cementing the married couple narrative any more than it needs to be. They’re not getting any younger, Vinny and Y Nhi, and just because she’s sworn off marriage doesn’t mean he has. How’s he supposed to get a nice girlfriend if she keeps hanging around?

Objectively, it’s a stupid reason to risk passing out in a church of all places, but something about him just makes her stupid. Always has.

The longer she ignores his peace offering, the twitcher he gets. He finishes his own burger in ten massive bites. When Y Nhi still doesn’t eat hers, he eats that whole thing too. “We’re leaving early. Say an hour? Think about what you want to eat.”

With that, he’s gone. Y Nhi is not hyper aware of his presence as it moves through the open space. She does not miss having him next to her. Not even a little.

-

Y Nhi writes, appetite??? in her journal when she gets home. It’s the third time something of this nature has appeared on its list which isn’t titled - but if it was it would be something like “Things About Vinny T. that Don’t Make Sense.”

Even after inhaling two burgers, he took her out for pho and Thai tea, and he ate so slow that his noodles expanded in the broth. Still, he finished a medium bowl with relative ease, and Y Nhi was content after she’d finished a small.

How does someone who eats like that look like that? It has to be some sort of stupid freaky metabolism. Genetic polymorphism, she thinks, then adds that she might be incorrectly using the term she’d heard in class about two semesters ago.

She writes freeloading on the list. It’s not technically true, but he spends enough time at her place to make it feel like it. Right this minute, he’s setting up the living room to sleep in, awaiting her delivery of the overnight bag he always leaves stocked in her apartment for emergencies.

That goes on the list too. Definition of ‘emergency.’

According to recent months, an alarming amount of things fit under this category of Vinny’s mind. It might be nearing time to stage an intervention, but who’s Y Nhi to tell him to relax when she’s the one bordering on anxiety attacks all the time? Only god knows how many times he’s clutched her shaking hands until they stopped.

Y Nhi closes the journal. Snaps the band over the cover. Shoves it under her pillow. Vinny wouldn’t dare read it to begin with, but for some reason, she doesn’t even want him to know of its existence.

Quickly divesting herself of the impeccable outfit she’d worn for the day, she slips easily into one of Vinny’s large, large shirts and the shorts she affectionately calls game day shorts. Ever since high school, she’s worn them for events that require equal amounts of comfort and courage - or just for comfort, to be honest.

“Hey, loser,” she greets Vinny, emerging from her room. He’s got her guitar in hand, and is humming some tune that she recognizes but can’t place. “Your stuff is on my bed. Have you seen Toothless?”

He nods, and keeps playing. It’s in experience, being stared at with such intense eyes while trying not to stare at the other party’s stupid pretty hands playing her guitar. Fuck him, honestly, she thinks angrily.

Leaving him there, she pours each of them a glass of water in the kitchen. A shadow looms on top of the fridge, and she jumps. “Toothless, baby. Please stop napping on the fridge.”

Toothless is not napping. He stands up, shakes his tiny body and hops to the counter, then to the floor, twining around Y Nhi’s feet before scuttling off.

Vinny is singing now. It’s a new song, she supposes, and it sounds like a love song.

Slowly, Y Nhi moves around the kitchen, making as little noise as possible while doing absolutely nothing. She just wants to listen to Vinny and his new love song without him watching her reaction.

Once she gets past the lyrics about gentle touches and midnight escapades, she realizes something. Re-entering the living room, she deposits his water on the table. “Is that my melody? Why would you steal it?”

The guitar is placed awkwardly on the floor, the neck of it leaning on the couch. “Oh, is that where it’s from? Thought it was familiar,” he says with mild disinterest. “Well, I wasn’t that attached to it anyway.”

“Are you saying it sucks?” Y Nhi settles on the floor on the other side of the table, pulling her knees into her chest. Glancing through her lashes, Y Nhi watches Vinny’s expressions.

“I’m saying I’m not taking your work, you brat.” Then he hesitates. “I mean. Can I, just for one person?”

“What the fuck.”

Vinny twitches, finally. “I… Wrote the song for someone… So I’d like to sing it for her, just once.”

Something vile rises in her throat, and she wishes Toothless would notice her distress. Hugging the cat might make her feel a little better about the fact that Vinny’s written a song about a girl using her melody - and it’s not about herself and for some odd reason, that bothers her.

“Can- Can I hear it?” Y Nhi asks in a tiny voice. It’s easier than No, you cannot take my song to sing to some other girl who will take you away from me.

“Haven’t you been hearing it?”

“Vincent.” Because that’s easier than You colossal idiot, what shit are you pulling after two years?

“Jude-”

She stands suddenly, fleeing to her room. Shutting the door, locking it, she tries to breathe. Of all people, Vinny should be the last person to push her to this reaction. She doesn’t know what to think.

Vinny knows.

Vinny knows where her hard limits are. Technically, he hasn’t passed them. But he’s pretty damn close.

Y Nhi slips into the shower, leaving it on the hottest setting to boil the emotions out.

-

For the next two days, Y Nhi doesn’t emerge from her room. Her phone dies, and she lets it. Her body self-destructs in hunger and dehydration from crying, and she lets it. She stays in bed for most of it. Whether Vinny continues to sleep on the other side of the wall for those nights, she doesn’t know. Nor care.

It’s punishment for believing she might be ready to give love another chance.

-

The third day, a letter slips under her door.

She almost flushes it down the toilet without reading it. Everything is in position to do so, paper fluttering in unsteady hands above the toilet bowl. But she wants to know. What can Vinny possibly say for himself?

Jude. I wrote the song for you. I didn’t mean to steal your tune - honest to god, I didn’t. But when I found out, I thought it was fitting that we’d worked on it together. (“Together”)

Jude, the song is up to your interpretation, but it’s yours. I wrote it from my core, and it’s yours. Charge your fucking phone and check the lyrics I sent you.

Take a shower, and call me when you’re ready. You have a few days’ worth of takeout in the fridge. Please take care of your health; I know you’re not right now. I mean it in the best way.

It cuts off there. Unceremonious and blunt, and so very him. She hates it very much.

Y Nhi charges her phone while she showers. Working quickly because she’s so unsteady on her feet, she does the bare minimum before stumbling into the kitchen for food.

While she nibbles on the stir fried noodles he left, she pens her own note.

Vinny,

I will not read the lyrics. I don’t want to know, and you don’t have to pretend it’s about me.

Your joke took two years to reach completion. Congratulations. I hope I was amusing and that my downfall wall be the stunning conclusion you wanted.

She tapes it on her front door so he’ll see it the next time he comes over. Soon, probably.

Momentarily, she wonders if she’s being rash. Is it so impossible to think that he could find romantic attraction to her?

Then she remembers. Y Nhi is not built to be loved, if her history is anything to go by. Even if she’s wrong, even if Vinny loves her for real, she will resist. Losing him this way is better than the alternative: watching him dissolve to some monstrosity while loving her.

-

Nothing changes after that. Apart from Vinny’s absence from her apartment, they interact in exactly the same way.

Vinny says something borderline rude.

Y Nhi retorts with something blatantly rude.

They laugh about it and move along.

There are no gentle touches to avoid because Vinny rarely touched her to begin with - despite the way he slings his arm around everyone else, he wasn’t like that with her. No arm around her shoulder, no hugs, not even extended contact with her hair.

Y Nhi pretends not to notice when he goes through a full dinner with an arm draped over the back of his friend Justin’s chair. He leans on it, adding the tiniest space between himself and Y Nhi. He still passes her the condiments and spices she likes before she asks for them. He takes her home at the end of it.

This should be enough. Up until now, it always had been. These tiny acts were his long distance hugs. It had always been enough, but now it isn’t, and Y Nhi doesn’t know what to do.

Isn’t this what you wanted? For him to get a life away from you?

“How’s that girl?” She asks on the way home, just because the silence is killing her and perhaps because she’s a masochist. “The one you wrote the song for?”

Vinny looks at her for a brief moment, something like grief in his eyes. It’s a confusing expression. “She hasn’t really talked to me since.”

Y Nhi tries not to sit straighter at this revelation. “Oh, really? Hm. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Something about the word is profoundly heartbroken. She can almost feel the emotions hurtling off him in waves, but he doesn’t lash out at her. All it does is enclose each passenger of the car in a separate bubble. This is the closest they’ve been in a long time, but Y Nhi has never felt so isolated.

Her throat constricts, and her hands start to shake. “Do you… Know why?”

Vinny thinks for a moment, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “I think she doesn’t believe me. But I don’t really think it’s me, I think she thinks that love is meant for everyone except herself. She’s pretty bent on self-destruction now, as far as I can tell - No, don’t say anything yet.”

Every girl Vinny’s talked to in the last week pops up in her mind. Which of them seems most self-destructive? If she can’t keep herself by his side, he should at least have someone who can care for him. She could talk to them, probably, if she knew who it was.

“I… She thinks this is sudden, but I’ve been in love with her since I was fifteen. Or something. Like it kind of just happened over time, and I thought she knew.”

Fifteen means Vinny’s been futilely in love with someone else while she fell for the guy who ended up cheating on her.

They were happy in high school. It was college that broke them. Distance. The communications became less frequent in an inverse relationship to Y Nhi’s alcohol intake. Her grades suffered, and she convinced herself that she was too stupid for higher education. On his birthday, she drove for hours to his dorm to surprise him, only to find him making out with another girl. Sober.

Not that any level of inebriation could excuse him, but perhaps it would’ve hurt a little less.

Vinny isn’t done. “I fucking cut fruit for her every time we hung out. I did her dishes sometimes. I don’t know, I- I thought I did everything right. My mom thought I was doing everything right.”

“You tell your mom about your love life?”

Y Nhi doesn’t. Her parents don’t care enough to know anything about it beyond that she let go of a future doctor and that she’ll never find another because she’s past her prime. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

She’s literally twenty four. She has time.

“Not really. But they’ve met.” Vinny parks the car in front of her apartment, but he makes no move to get out or to let Y Nhi get out. “Jude, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” she says. Training her eyes on her kitchen window, she thinks about the dishes she hasn’t done yet, the fruit she hasn’t cut yet, and how she hates thinking about it because it reminds her Vinny is fading.

Human adaptability is a remarkable thing. One more week, and this new normalcy will cement itself.

“The girl I love is you. Okay? I’ve walked around the topic for years, and I understand if you’re still not ready for it. But I know you’re getting the wrong idea in that head of yours. It’s you, and it’s always been you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if you let me. I’ll also bow out forever if that’s what you need from me. But I need you to talk to me. I-”

Holy shit, is he about to cry? With wild eyes, she glances at him. If she’s made him cry, he’ll return the favor five-fold. No, she backtracks. That’s not Vinny. That’s the behavior of her second ex, the one that reduced her to a stiff puppet of a girl.

“Come back to me,” he says in a small, strangled voice. “I don’t even care if you break me in the process, but please come back to me. You can do whatever you want, as long as you do it by my side.”

For the longest moment, they say nothing. Then Y Nhi opens the car door. “Can you cut my strawberries for me? They taste better when you cut them.”

-

Vinny washes her dishes and her strawberries and quarters the already small fruit for her. He deposits the snacks in front of her and watches her eat - slowly, since they’ve just come back from dinner, after all.

“So it’s me?”

“Always has been.”

“And you never said anything.”

“I did. You ignored it on purpose.”

“No, I’m just a stupid hoe.”

“You’re not stupid. Or a hoe.”

“You’re always calling me stupid.”

“Not like that, stupid.”

“You’re going to have to undo a lot of damage if we date.”

“I know. I’ve been working on it already, didn’t you notice?”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna get worse if we date.”

“Have you considered therapy?”

“Vinny, I’ll be a pariah.”

“A happy one, maybe.” Hesitantly, he reaches for one of her hands. Halfway, he flips the palm up and waits for her to complete the gesture on her own. “You don’t have to decide right away. It’s just a thought.”

She puts her hand in his a little too eagerly, then pulls back a little too harshly. It feels like touching the flame of a candle.

A defeated look momentarily crosses Vinny’s eyes, but Y Nhi barely has the time to look at it before she steels her nerves and takes hold of his hand again. The coldness of his rings grounds her somehow. “We need a list,” Y Nhi says, “of things. First, you’re going to Google touch starvation.”

Her best friend jerks in a little victorious motion, jamming his knee unceremoniously on the table leg as he does. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“What was that about?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were actually touch starved or if you didn’t like men touching you.”

“And you didn’t ask?” Y Nhi is incredulous.

“How am I supposed to ask? ‘Jude, when I touch you, does it remind you of your sleazy ex boyfriends?’ You’d say no. Like a liar. Or so I thought.” He pauses. “Anyway, this means I can hug you now, right? 24/7.”

“If you ease into it.”

“And you’ll stop wearing those gigantic shirts that literally drown you.”

“...No. What?”

“Okay, never mind, nothing. What else? What other boundaries do we have?”

Of all questions she’s been asked today, this one is probably the most confusing. Her previous relationships are no help; she hasn’t exactly had the best exposure to “healthy relationships.” She’s aware that the bare minimum counts as decadence for her, so the question has her a little frozen.

After watching her face flicker through whatever emotions it’s displaying, Vinny rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “How about this: I have a specific thing I want your help with, and when things come up, we can talk about it.”

Y Nhi nods, though they both know she won’t talk about shit. But perhaps watching Vinny sort out whatever issue he needs sorted will give her inspiration on how to approach this. “Can we-?” She starts and stops abruptly.

Vinny blinks, then feeds her a strawberry slice. “Go ahead.” It’s a tactful move. Putting food in her mouth means she has to chew, meaning she has a few more seconds to gather herself and her thoughts, or at the very least, the desire to continue speaking.

“Can we not label this?” She finishes. “Whatever is between us.”

To her surprise, Vinny nods and acts like she hasn’t asked the bitchiest question of the night. “Sure.” You can do whatever you want, he’d said, as long as you do it by my side.

“And… Get rid of Jude.”

“What?”

“Jude. You remember why I picked that name?”

“Because of some fictional fairy queen that had the same name? You thought she was a conniving boss ass bitch and-”

“Shut up. Saint Jude. Patron saint of?”

Technically speaking, he hasn’t been wrong about the fairy queen bit. Unlike the suckers who fell for Cardan Greenbriar, Y Nhi’s wimpy ass was all in for Jude Duarte, mortal queen of the fae. And it was easier to admit that than to admit the truth that was dawning on Vinny’s face in 3… 2...

“Hopeless causes,” Vinny answers easily. Then his expression sobers. “Oh.”

Y Nhi nods. “But the me with you isn’t a hopeless cause. I don’t want her to be, anyway.”

There’s a lot that goes unsaid, but she’s certain Vinny hears it. Logically, she can’t keep relying on whatever instinct says, He’ll understand because he’s Vinny, but up to this point, it should work out okay.

Gently, he says, “Y Nhi,” reacquainting himself with the syllables of her given name. “Y Nhi.”

“Yes, Vinny?” She says just as gently.

He lowers his voice to a husky whisper, “You’ve never been a hopeless cause. You were a cause for hope.”

-

Vinny’s request is this: that Y Nhi teach him to be soft again.

The request makes her question if she and Vinny exist in the same dimension because who the hell convinced him he wasn’t soft? Hardened, prickly souls don’t master winged eyeliner for the sake of their loved ones. They don’t volunteer extra hours at Vacation Bible School while working graveyard shifts at the hospital. Don’t do the dishes because as much as they hate them, their roommate hates them more.

Vinny is soft, and Y Nhi is out for blood. “I need names, Vincent. And addresses if you have them.”

“My ex,” he says.

An awkward sound emerges from Y Nhi’s throat.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “What? I dated around. Didn’t think I should be hung up on you, but nothing ever went as planned. Anyway, my one ex did a really good job making me become someone I wasn’t. I didn’t like the person she made me, but it was kind of too late to turn around.”

Again, Y Nhi is confused. The narrative is promising, though, so she lets him continue in hopes that it’ll clear something up.

“If you don’t know me, how would you describe me?”

“Vinny.” She doesn’t have an answer, she just doesn’t want to say it. It’s not all good, and they just came back from an awkward fight. Was it a fight?

They’ve slipped back into their normal existence so easily. Nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything has.

“Just- The rings and the black and the tattoos. You’d think I drove a motorcycle or something, right?”

“You drive a Lexus. It’s the same in terms of your fuck boy vibes.”

“Y Nhi!”

“BMW would’ve sealed the deal. How many Hennessys do you drink a night, again?”

A pout settles on his face. She likes this version of him. “I see you get my point. I look like a baddie.”

“Yeah. Bad at life.”

“I swear to god.”

“Don’t do that, that’s a sin. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all.”

“Anyway. You of all people know I am soft, actually. She didn’t like that. And so I gained a second personality and-”

It’s rude, the way Y Nhi interrupts, but Vinny doesn’t seem to mind at all. “So if you’re always soft, what’s left for me to help you with?”

“You’ll see,” he says. “Actually. No, I’m going to tell you. I get embarrassed about my relationships. So if it ever looks like I’m pushing you away… I’m just really fucking embarrassed, at least for this first stage. Do what you will with that.”

- bonus/epilogue -

They return home for Y Nhi’s mom’s birthday. They’ve always rode home together, since they are neighbors no matter where they are. No one finds it odd that they hold hands more than before, that Y Nhi is still averse to touching everyone but him.

They appear at social events hanging on each other’s arms. Commentary about their status as a “married couple” breeze over their heads, but they never confirm nor deny anything. In public, they remain aloof to each other. They show tenderness in only the smallest of gestures.

In private, they are as they ever were. Vinny still does her eyeliner on her bad days, but now she cuddles him on the couch on his bad days. Between the two of them, there are a lot of bad days, days when they almost threw in the towel.

But they didn’t. Instead, they’ve introduced all manner of pet names (Vinny’s favorites to use are love, darling, and lately, em. Y Nhi’s favorites are Vinny and anh). They write songs to each other, for each other, with each other. Every morning, they make the choice to keep loving each other the way they have since they were fifteen - and while they joke that they wasted so much time, it was a necessary time for them to spend apart to learn how to exist together and how to choose each other even when it’s the harder choice than letting go.

Even I get lonely too

It’s not hard

Every question’s got an answer

And mine is you

Where you go then I will follow

All my life

You’re the name that I will whisper to the night

[imaginesbymk]

“There is no Goodbye.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Nothing is more ironic than Eugene breaking up with you just for the sake of sparing you the heartbreak if he were to die at war. But when he’s lucky to return home to Mobile, his first mission is to find you. Will Eugene be able to win you back before someone else does?

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: angst/breakup, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of an ethnic slur + mentions of war violence

Word Count: 3,016

Author’s Note: song inspiration for this oneshot is wait by m83!!! i totally recommend this song cos its so beautiful!! pls give this a like/reblog and maybe some feedback!! <333

YOU were sick of crying in your pillow every night. You were aware of how puffy your eyes must have been by now, you acknowledged your friends who called and visited, checking on you, but not even that helped soothe the heartache in you. His name just kept echoing in your mind and replayed, finding their way into your sleep. You wished you hated Eugene Sledge, but deep down in your heart- you just couldn’t.

Three knocks came on your bedroom door. “Y/n, your food’s getting cold,” you heard your mother from the other side.

“I’m not hungry.” You couldn’t remember the amount of times you’ve used that as an excuse to stay where you were, depressed and heartbroken. 

Eugene broke up with you on a Sunday night. You two were dressed for the occasion; a dinner party was held at a grand convention center that was known and popular by several Alabamians. You wore the necklace Eugene got you as a gift, and you loved showing it off. In fact, you wore it every day to remind yourself, your family and your friends that Eugene Sledge was the love of your life. 

Later you noticed how strange he was acting the whole dinner, how quiet and tense he got so suddenly. His hand would slip away whenever you held it while walking, or when they were held under the table. It was like he was trying to hold something back, like a cat catching his tongue. Then, you found him outside, leaning against the stairway. 

“What is it, Eugene?” 

He paused every time he looked at you, how it pained him to say what he needed to say. Whether it was now or never, he leaves for the train in a couple of days.

“Wait a minute, Eugene,” You remembered your body turning cold as ice, but not from the night breeze. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Oh how you wished he was kidding, but the look on his face read that he wasn’t in the slightest. He was joining the marines corps, despite his heart murmur and his father and brother encouraging him to go to college instead. He flunked out of his classes on purpose just to enlist, and since only God knows what fate lies ahead, he felt it was best to put a stop to the relationship.

It wasn’t your right to be angry about his choices sometimes. He was in his twenties now, old enough to make up his mind. He was fighting for everyone’s freedom, after all, which is probably the bravest thing Eugene is doing. However, you didn’t understand why. Eugene was a believer, he believed in God and miracles. He asked God to send him a miracle through prayer in his own time, and they were answered in the form of you. So why couldn’t he believe in the stable relationship you both can still have even when he’s off to fight?

As expected, you didn’t take it too well. Right there, you broke down in front of him. Eugene walked over and reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, but you shoved him away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You angrily ripped the necklace off of you and threw it at him before running off in tears. He never chased after you.

You dared not to go back inside the dining hall where your family and friends were, as well as his, so you walked home by yourself without waiting for anyone to catch up with you. He was going mad, you bet. Enlisting in the marines was one thing, but calling it quits on your relationship?

That was the last time you saw Eugene. He didn’t wait to see if you would turn up at the train station, begging him to have a change of heart. He never saw you there, and he boarded the train to California.

What were you more upset about: the love of your life dumping you, or the chances of the love of your life dying?

THE year was now 1945, and Eugene sat in the passenger seat in Sid’s mobile when he picked him up from the station. 

The Japanese surrendered, and the boys back at the islands held a celebration with drinking, bonfires and loud music. Eugene, Snafu and Burgin sat on the rocks, watching the night sky, contemplating their return to home.

Victory Day was now nighttime, Eugene blew out smoke from his pipe, counting the stars. His tiny bible that was pocketed in his dungarees was pulled out, using the distant lit fires as a light to read through the tallied marks from the book of Genesis to Thessalonians, then out came a piece of paper that fell onto his lap. 

He picked it up and unfolded it, taking another puff from his pipe. Eugene reads the first two words. 

Dear y/n

The letter was never delivered to you because it was a letter Eugene had never sent, in fact it was never finished. He never got his first sentence down as they were ordered to get their gear ready to move down Okinawa. He never wrote a letter to you at all for the rest of his time serving, because he knew he wouldn’t be receiving one back.

Snafu slapped him awake one night and told him to shut up because he kept saying your name in his sleep. Eugene sounded desperate and panicked when he said it, too, and if the volume increased, it would have given away their spot. The marine was lucky it was a slap in the face rather than a bullet to the skull. 

The next day, Snafu asked Eugene for two things: a light, and who “y/n” was.

“She was my girl,” Eugene handed a lighter to Snafu to light his cigarette.

“Was.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home just for a man in uniform to come to her door to tell her I’ve been KIA.”

“Shit, so you dumped her?” Snafu grins. “Should of given her to me, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene didn’t laugh. It was an inappropriate joke, no surprise coming from Snafu himself. He sat in the filth in silence, his bloodied and dirty hands holding your gold necklace that you threw at him. He brought it with him to war, and kept it as a bookmark in his Bible.

Eugene’s home was the same as he had left it, he knew that when Sid pulled up at the long pathway at the gates. Georgia cottage was indeed a sight, and Eugene loved it so much as a child. It was spacious with nature and trees to walk his dog, a forest down the road to go hunting and fishing with his father, a meadow where he would take you on a warm day.

Sid sat in the parked car for a few moments, Eugene hadn't started walking to the front door just yet. “I visited her,” Sid broke the silence. “Just like I promised.”

Eugene had to ask, “How is she?”

“I was starting to think she had forgotten about you... that was until I showed up at her door,” he replies. “It was tense, but she’s doing all right.”

Eugene nods, smiling a bit. He trusted his best friend to check up on you for him. At least you were doing fine, according to Sid’s words. "No crying?”

“She don’t cry no more. I introduced her to Mary Houston and invited her to my wedding- if that’s alright with you.”

He chuckled, making a face. “Why would I not be? It’s your wedding, you greaser.”

“Well one, and you should probably take my word for it, Y/N still hates your guts,” he said. “And two, whether or not she speaks to you at all on my wedding day, at least I’ll have you there as my best man.” Sid noticed the look on his best friend’s face. “There’s the O.O.M ball coming up. Y/n’s gonna be there.”

He smiles at him. “See you later?”

“Welcome home, Eugene.” And he drives off, prompting Eugene to reunite with his parents.

[x]

SHOWING up to the O.O.M ball immediately made you feel bummed. You showed up without a date. You shouldn’t have the right to feel bummed, anyway. You turned down any guy that had asked you. You could have said yes, but something in your heart was telling you no, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Sighing, you suddenly didn’t feel like going to the bar for a second drink, and you just didn’t like waiting until your friends weren’t with their dates to go up to talk to them, so you found yourself heading outside to the front. It’s not like you could escape the guests, as tables and chairs were set outside occupied with more people, and even more people standing around and chatting with their friends.

You leaned over a tree where you felt like no one could see you for approach, being able to hear the loud music from the inside. But for what? You could just leave and say you felt sick. What were you waiting for? 

Several years had gone by since he left, and nothing about you has changed. Your hair grew a bit after a slight trim, and so has your wardrobe. Your dress was pretty expensive, and no one complimented it. You just needed someone to come up to you and say- 

“You look beautiful.” 

You spun around, knowing that Southern accent all too well. Not a lot of alcohol was consumed, so asking yourself if you drank too much that you started to see and hear things was out of the question. How did he know where to find you? How was he able to sneak up on you like how he used to as a surprise? He’d always do that, then pick you up and spin you around with joy. But this time, he stood in front of you, gazing at you like a painting.

Your vision started blurring.

“Y/n?” he thought you were having a stroke in front of him, and he reached out his hand. “Y/n?”

“Gimme a minute.” You breathed heavily, gripping the tree for support. Maybe you were about to faint in shock. After picking up your senses, you were able to respond. “Eugene,” you said softly. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “In the flesh.” You really couldn’t believe it. Maybe you were seeing and hearing things. But he was here. Eugene Sledge was really here, standing before you, and not a scratch on his face. His hair was fixed, too, and you could tell he was now in greater shape.

“How was...” you felt like you shouldn’t ask for so many reasons. “I mean, you made it. You’re home.”

“At last,” he answered, placing his wooden pipe in his mouth. “What are you doing all the way over here? Your date’s probably searching all of Mobile for you.”

“I don’t have a date,” you shook your head. “I mean, I came alone. I didn’t bring anyone.”

“You too?” he blew out smoke.

“Yeah. Um-” all it took was for you to breath in and crunch your nose from the awful stench of nicotine that everyone was so used to. “Since when did you start smoking?” 

He shrugged. “Since I killed my first Jap. Helps me calm down.”

"Well... I’m talking to you and you’re blowing smoke right in my face.”

Eugene nodded, taking the pipe out. “Sorry. How have you been?”

“Good.”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “That’s it? Just good?”

“I mean, what else would you expect me to say?”

“You’ve completed your education, you’re engaged, you and your partner are buying a house?”

“Jesus, Eugene. It’s way too early for that. I can’t even drive.”

“I’m kidding. I can only assume you’re in complete shock. I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Eugene says. “I can also assume you hated me as soon as you threw the necklace I gave you right at me.”

“And I still hate you.”

He looks at you, scoffing. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “You dump me and leave to join the marine corps, I wrote you a letter on your birthday and you never wrote back, every time I see your parents at the market they look at me like I’m the face of death. You shouldn’t have come here, I was doing just fine.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his eyebrows. The nonsense coming out that mouth. If only Eugene could kiss them shut. "All right. Heard you spoke with Sid.”

“Yeah, and? He invited me to his wedding."

“And he asked me to be his best man. So you might as well hold in your punch until the wedding is over.”

Your blood started to boil. Maybe you haven’t changed, but the war did indeed change the hell out of him. This attitude he carried wasn’t impressing you one bit. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m trying to have a conversation with you, y/n.”

“And you’re acting as if I’m the reason you dumped me.”

“I had my reasons,” he spoke back,

“Damn you, Eugene Sledge!” you slapped him repeatedly on his chest and shoulder. “Damn you for hurting me like that! Damn you for not writing to me! Damn you for leaving me!”

You cried out, as he simply stared and did his best to restrain your arms away from hitting him once more. 

He never spoke a word until you calmed down. Then, you realized... “Oh God, Eugene. I’m so sorry,” you gasp. “I would never lay a hand on you.”

“A Jap tried to kill me with a bayonet,” Eugene said. “I kinda had that slap coming.”

You let a tear fall down your cheek, and you looked down so Eugene wouldn’t be able to notice, but he was smart enough to know. “Baby... it’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled you close and held you. You haven’t felt his touch since that night. You were overcome with the nostalgia during the happy times, and even the sad times. He would hold you like you were gonna slip right out of his hands.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t dreamt about you, where I would die, or where I would watch you marry a man who doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Eugene... you broke my heart and just stomped on it like mud.”

“And you had every right to be hurt, but that was never my intention, I just did what I thought was the right thing.” He played with the curls in your hair and kissed you softly on your temple.

It wasn’t like it was a last minute decision. Regardless his heart murmur was there or not, he wasn’t going to stay home and attend classes. Breaking up with you wasn’t last minute, either. 

“I guess I should have been more understanding,” you admit, leaning back against the tree. 

“I spent nights trying to come up with what I was going to say, and when I was planning on saying it. I used to worry about the murmur, if I’d remember to feed Deacon, or telling my Mother about my plans for the future.”

“You weren’t sure about any of those things, Gene.”

“Seeing your face that night made me realize I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you,” Eugene shook his head slowly. “I was definitely sure about that.”

“Loved,” you correct him.

“No, y/n. Love. I still love you, more than the stars reach the apex of this goddamn universe. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop loving you. You’re really the answer God has given me after endless nights of praying for something good.”

“Then why didn’t you write me?”

“I had to find a way to move on. If it distracted me from fighting, I would have been as good as dead. Something in me died from the war, but the feelings I have for you are still here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “I love you more, Eugene.”

“So I hope it’s not too late to ask this,” Eugene said. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, are you seeing anyone?”

You shook your head.

He raised his brows. “So for nearly four years, you haven’t been seeing anyone? Not one fella?”

“I tried to. I mean, I kept thinking you slept with a nurse.”

“Women weren’t even in my corner of the pacific, and nurses were there to do their jobs. Besides,” Eugene smiled. “I’d rather come home to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known in Mobile.”

“Mary Houston?”

Eugene laughs. “I was talking about you. At least you’re humble.” He laughed harder when you started playfully slapping him on the chest repeatedly again. “Hey! But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I’m willing to start over, maybe pick up where we left off.”

“I would love that.” 

Eugene reached in his tux pocket, pulling out the golden necklace you loved wearing. “I believe this belongs to you.” He walked behind you, and began wrapping the necklace around your neck, clipping the lock together in place. “Y’know, after throwing it right at my face?”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “Don’t ever do that again; saying goodbye.”

“There is no goodbye.” He turned your head to face him using his finger under your chin. “There never was, just the old hello.”

You smiled again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He pulls you close to him. “Is that all right?”

“You can kiss me whenever you feel like it, Gene.” And you wouldn’t mind it one bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he leans in, kissing you almost a dozen times now, the overcoming nostalgia of the good time hitting once more. “And once I’m done kissing the daylights outta you, I’m bringing you inside. It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the love of my life.”

the end

[mystical-one]

@ourladylennon tagged me in a tag game thingy to list my five favourite lyrics!!! Ok. Alright. So. In no particular order:

Did you write the book of love / and do you have faith in God above / if the Bible tells you so? / Now, do you believe in rock and roll? Can music save your mortal soul? / And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

- American Pie by Don McLean

Wouldn't it be sad if I hadn't met you at all? / I am more than glad that you found me / Put your arms around me

Now after all this time I still adore you / Need you more than ever / Love you 'till forever

- 'Till Forever by Labi Siffre

Set me on a silver sun, for I know that I'm free / Tell me that I'm everywhere, and get me home for tea

- It's All Too Much by The Beatles

Let's make the best of the situation / Before I finally go insane / Please don't say we'll never find a way / And tell me all my love's in vain

- Layla by Derek and The Dominoes

We sang and cracked the sky with laughter / Our breath turned to mist in the cold / Our years put together count to thirty / But our eyes told the dawn we were old

And who's going to be the one / To say it was no good what we done ? / I dare a man to say I'm too young / For I'm going to try for the sun

- To Try for the Sun by Donovan

That's about it! There are SO many to choose from but these are definitely on my all-time leaderboard. (I also went through the trouble of putting in links to the songs on youtube, because I've got too much spare time on my hands, apparently).

I shall tag (with no pressure attached): @sunny-lie-melody @backoffgeorgie @bedlund and @monkberrymoon-delight <3