#just funny bc none of this is that normal besides the music part

[happistar]

today is a michael mell day ig

wore my red hoodie

somehow happened to be the day my creative writing teacher gave us limited edition soda to drink??? i got to keep the can???

drove people around all day

vibed to music for awhile

[smilexcaptainx]

Can i get a chris when you two acted on a movie together (not as love interest tho cause shes only 22) and became good friends so they decided to quarantined together in readers LA home bc chris was worried about her being alone. Reader got asked to be part of the mv for "stuck with you" and so she asked him to slow dance with her for it (since thats what everyone was doing) & thats when he realized he has very strong feelings for her heheh

request an imagine here

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy 2021! I’m just cleaning out all the requests from my inbox. You guys are truly amazing, and I love all the sweet messages that are sent to me. I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.2K

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Chris bit into his folded pizza that you had teased him about earlier. You always found it odd that he ate his pizza that way, but it just gave more of a reason for Chris to make cute remarks back to you. He had been a good friend of yours ever since you starred in the same movie as him. He always claimed that you stole the spotlight from him, but you would just play along and agree with him.

When Quarantine had hit, Chris was more than happy to invite you over to his place and spend as much time with you as needed. Many nights of board games, movies, videogames, and just hanging out talking about life. You had gotten to know Chris on a deeper level. What shocked you the most was that he had gotten an Instagram!

It was like teaching your father how to use technology, but Chris eventually got used to the app. Tonight was one of those nights of a movie night. Chris had bought a pizza for the both of you to share. Chris had paused the movie for you to use the restroom. He was peacefully eating his pizza before he realized that you had been gone for a long time.

Normally, he would start the movie without you, but he knew how much you’ve wanted to see the movie. He wiped his hands onto his blue jeans after taking the last bite of his pizza. His ocean blue eyes scanned the area of the living room as he chewed up his final bite. He swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, [Y/N]! Where’d you go?” Chris called out, moving his plate off the couch and onto the little table in front of him. “You still alive?”

Chris lightly chuckled to himself as those words left his mouth. Although he found it humorous, he knew that it wouldn’t be funny if you actually were extremely hurt. Chris cleared his throat and rose up to his feet. He walked around the couch and started to go on a hunt for you through his house. He checked every room, every bathroom, but you weren't present in any of them.

Chris was beginning to worry. He speedily made his way back to the living room, only to see your figure sitting on the couch. Chris released a sigh of relief. He was glad to see that you were safe. If anything bad were to happen to you, Chris knew that he possibly wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Chris walked up to you from behind.

“BOO!!!”

You shrieked in fear, your phone slipping out of your hand. Luckily, it landed on the cushion beside you instead of the ground. Chris wheezed out his laugh before patting you on the head. 

“That’s what you get for worrying me,” Chris joked, walking around the couch back to his seat. “Anyways, can we start the movie back up?”

You slapped your hand onto his back as he lowered himself down onto the couch. Chris froze as he felt your hand push him back up.

“You almost sat on my phone you fool,” You said, swiping the phone from the cushion. Chris smirked. “There, now you can sit down.”

Chris plopped down onto the cushion beside you, immediately swiping your phone from you. You gasped as you had lost the possession of your phone. You glanced over at Chris who had wide eyes.

“No way, is this the Ariana Grande? As in the girl from that one Nickelodeon show?” Chris asked, swinging his eyes over to meet with yours. You nodded. “What’s the occasion?”

“I-It’s nothing,” You stuttered, retrieving the phone back into your hands. Chris stared at you in disbelief. You sighed in defeat. “Fine. She asked if I could be part of her newest music video. It’s called stuck with you.”

“I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Um, the issue is that I need to find a dancing partner, which I was thinking would be you,” You explained further, his eyes piercing into yours. Your heart skipped a beat. “I’m a terrible dancer Chris, and you know that.”

“Unfortunately, that is true,” Chris said, slowly rising up to his feet. You remained seated as he descended his hand toward you. You shifted your eyes between his hand and his eyes. “But I’m not going to give up on teaching you.”

“I guess you could say that,” You mumbled, sliding your hand into his hand. Chris assisted you off of the couch. “Wait, before we start. I can play the song, you know, so we can get a feel of what it is. She said that she just wanted just a little slow dance sort of thing.”

“Slow dance? That sounds easy,” Chris said with a nod. “I’m ready when you are.”

You quickly pressed the play button. The song blasted through your phone speaker. Chris could already tell what the feel was. As you were focused more on listening to the song, Chris turned your attention from the phone.

“[Y/N], it’s a great song, but I kind of want to dance,” Chris said, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll lead the way.”

Chris kept you close as he began to sway back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut as you got more into the song. It was romantic in a way, and you couldn’t be anymore happier. Chris was the only one you remotely even planned on slow dancing with, and now that it was happening, it felt like a dream. You gently laid your head against his chest as the song continued.

His presence had never felt so sweet. Chris tightened his grip onto your figure, smiling widely to himself. He couldn’t fight those butterflies that were appearing in his stomach. Never did he think that he was going to fall for someone like you so soon. He knew so much about you, and wanted to continue to learn even more.

He could feel himself falling for you the longer you remained close to him. He felt extremely intimate with you this very moment, and he couldn’t love it even more. Before Chris knew it, the song had come to an end. The sensation of having you this close to him lingered with him. You didn’t even realize that the song was over before Chris stopped moving.

You blinked yourself back into reality. You raised your eyes to meet with his diamond blue eyes.

“And you say you can’t dance,” Chris scoffed, causing you to blush lightly. “Anyways, is it time to start recording?”

“Yeah let me-”

“I want to record it on my phone,” Chris said, sliding his phone out of his back pocket. “I want this video on my phone so I can post it on Instagram afterwards,” Chris said, making you crack a small smile. “I want to show the world how terrible of a dancer you are.”

You acted offended and playfully whacked Chris on the shoulder who just laughed at your response. Chris set up his phone to record as you restarted the song. You two returned to your positions. Chris held tight onto your hand and smiled brightly at you.

“I know that we’re only supposed to do a snippet of us dancing,” Chris said, stepping closer toward you. “But I want to dance with you through the entire dance again. The first time was nice.”

“I agree.”

The moment you smiled up at Chris, that was when he knew. Although he was stuck with you, he was also in love with you.

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Feedback is always welcome!

I do not own this gif.

Credit goes to the owner!

my wattpad

[ziracona]

Do you have any post ilm Myer sibs (Quentin counts too 👀) hcs? I live for your Myers sib content and it is so gooooood I loved the little tidbits at the end of ilm :)

Sure! I love them so muc TuT. I’ve posted some before, but I can’t remember off the top of my head always which things I have and haven’t said already when it comes to post-ILM headcanons, so apologies if I repeat myself a little.

Michael takes a while to be comfortable around other people in general, but gets there pretty well eventually, and becomes a normal part of the gang. Philip is especially helpful (both to him and all the other past-killers) in working out ways to get through that past.

His cat almost dies the first year he has it, but Claudette is visiting the day it happens and saves it, and he and the cat both love her after that.

Michael has a really weird relationship with Nancy bc her introduction to him was not as The Shape but as “Oh this is Laurie’s weird brother,” but somehow they turned that weirdness into a really great mechanic and vibe well together.

Since Michael thinks Quentin is biologically his brother, then half-brother after he meets Alan Smith, he considers Alan kind of a weird step-father and Anna kind of a weird step-mother. Luckily for everyone involved, he doesn’t think about this much.

Laurie and Michael go mma on each other sometimes after the first few years just for old time’s sake and it’s kind of amazing to watch.

Everybody in the group gets pretty fluent in sign language after a while to communicate with Michael easily. It’s much appreciated by Laurie.

Michael is successfully able to learn how to read and write at adult levels after a few years with Laurie’s help and she is unbelievably proud of him and not afraid to show it, which he finds both embarrassing and enjoys.

Both of them come to stay with Quentin a lot, and it’s really nice for all of them. Alan does a very impressive job of being welcoming to the two murderers his kid has made part of his personal life 🤣 (poor Alan, without context getting Michael and Anna—thank God he has his kid who will give him the world’s most in-depth and sympathetic explanations). Michael gets interested in art by the stuff Nancy keeps/makes out in the shed, and she talks him into trying his hand a little. Sometimes they go do that together, or talk Quentin & Laurie into joining and do a group drawing party while talking or listening to music.

The headphones were a good gift, and listening to music/tuning things out is very helpful to Michael sometimes he finds, when dealing with psychosis symptoms. Sometimes if he’s having a rough time, he will go sit out on the porch in silence and listen to music, and Quentin started going to join him when that happened if he was visiting, and would just sit beside him in silence, listening to his own headphones as a move of solidarity. One time a month or so later, Quentin was having a really bad week and couldn’t sleep, and got up and was just chilling downstairs on the couch, listening to headphones, and Michael came over wearing his and sat with him. Now they regularly both do it as a solidarity act together if either of them needs a break from life. They never really talk about it—just go sit on the porch together and listen to their own music—but they don’t have to. They know. :’-]

Laurie & Quentin have both physically attacked strangers more than one for stuff they said to Michael.

Quentin takes Laurie (and Michael, if it’s a kind he could enjoy, which is unfortunately rareish) to concerts, and does insist to her dismay on bankrolling stuff for her whenever he can once he’s eventually a doctor. Laurie gets this with both barrels, because David constantly does this too, and she appreciates it, but is also low-key stressed sometimes.

Laurie: I’m gonna grab a smoothie real—

David&Quentin, shoving handfuls of money her way: “Here, for the”—“I’ll pay”

Laurie: O_O

Its a little weird for Michale when David & Laurie start dating, and he feels threatened because the man had less than nothing in the entire world before his sister and he worked things out, and he does not want things to change back, but he is assured by both Laurie and David that nothing will change, and after experiencing that/seeing it is true for a few weeks/months, he calms down about it. Eventually kind of likes the idea of having a 2nd brother, as Quentin puts it to him. Already liked David pretty well and gets to know him even better, now that he has a level of personal interest in him, and they get along pretty well. It’s weird, because they are incredibly awkward @ each other, but that gets better and all four of them (sibs + David) have a lot of fun doing things as a group.

Michael got to see like, none of the world at all most of his life, so he greatly enjoys travel/sightseeing, and is interested by most of what is out there to see. The first time he went boating was a really great day for him, and kind of a fantastic experience. David took them out on a lake (p early on, year 2) and it was one of the best feelings he’d experienced. Since age 6, all he’s really gotten to see or do was walk around and stab people in small realm cages, or sit still in a white room from age 6-21, and the world couldn’t be a lot more full of wonder. Laurie takes to casually explaining how things work a lot out loud when they go places as little fun “did you know?” Kinds of facts, so that in case he doesn’t know, he won’t have to ask or feel embarrassed about it. Several of the others start doing this too after a bit.

Laurie plays piano, and Michael is fascinated by that, so Laurie teaches him how to do that too. Sometimes he and Quentin, who is still learning guitar, will practice together. Laurie tries to pretend she doesn’t love listening as much as she does but it kills her w happiness when they do.

After quite a few years, Laurie tries out teaching literature, history, and philosophy at a local high school. She’s incredibly nervous. Technically she doesn’t have a college education and is using forged documents, and just has private study and some courses in those areas specifically out of love for the topics/interest, and she’s afraid she won’t be good at it. Her friends try to talk her up and reassure her. Quentin and David throw a celebration for her first day when she gets back, and all her friends/the realm fam & extended family (Nancy, Alan, etc) come. The biggest help is Michael, though, who just goes and stands outside all day near the school where she can see him through the window—which should be horrifying, all things considered, but actually helps. It’s just incredibly funny to her, because it’s visually so similar and contextually couldn’t be more different from the last time he stalked her at a school, so she chills out and gets through the day fine. Runs outside and hugs him at the end of it. Michael is very proud of himself. Then Laurie has an amazing surprise party when she gets home.

Laurie does not stay a high school teacher for that long, but she really enjoys it while she does it.

While Quentin is at school with Nancy and Claudette and Philip, Laurie and Michael come to visit quite frequently, and sometimes the whole group of six has game or movie or book nights, or goes off on a mini trip or night out.

After a couple years of their tradition with Judith, Michael and Laurie start to invite Quentin along too and he is both touched and nervous, but goes, and comes to quite a few of the picnics regularly, because he’s a sibling of the family too. Michael is excited to introduce him to her. :’-]

[reachfortheskiespeeps]

The Meeting

FANFICTION BY: ''You know who you are ; ))'' AU: #actorAU PAIRING: MIKHAIL x ARCHER (aka HS!AU Adult Emilio's actor and HS!AU Adult Abel's actor)

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((A/N: I ended up writing this before the one I initially thought to do, I swear this is much tamer than the other 😂 Sorry to disappoint, no spicy scenes, maybe next time XD Thank you Eszii for your spicy art, I just about burst into flames from it 💞

It’s this ship again, Mikhail x Archer, bc I am currently in love with them. I don’t think I’ll get over them for a while. I wanna write about them going through classic shoujo tropes, like, idk, beach episode? xmas episode? kabedon? ‘A got sick so B took care of A’? Gimme ideas y'all. I wanna keep writing while I have the motivation to do so, since I’ve had a dry spell for a year now 😂

One thing to note before getting started, Idk how to phrase it, but basically this fic is not in chronological order–but also yes bc it’s in the order i wrote it–I hope it’s not too confusing. Aight happy reading!))

——

Mikhail loves leaving butterfly kisses and hickeys all over Archer’s soft and fair body. He has his favorite areas, which are evident from how many and how deep they are, so Archer can’t even look at his reflection without blushing. Mikhail likes the sight of his lover covered in marks he made, knowing it was he who made them. While he does want to make it known that Archer is his, he doesn’t cause trouble by leaving marks on areas impossible to cover. On days when Archer isn’t busy, Mikhail is given free reign to kiss wherever he wished. He doesn’t want Archer getting hurt, so he rarely makes blatant bite marks, and the only times he did that was because Archer was being naughty and had to be taught a 'lesson’. (Although Archer didn’t seem very hurt by them, and instead….)

Archer, on the other hand, likes biting Mikhail’s hard body. He bites, he scratches, he licks. He did it the first time because he was being pouty and petty–it’s tough being the receiver ya know? And Mikhail just lets him because he’s cute and it’s kinda hot to feel his fangs sinking in like that. But then Archer got used to doing it and eventually did it because Archer noticed that Mikhail seemed to like being bitten (by none other than him, of course). He once caught Mikhail looking at his body on the mirror with a happy little tug on the corner of his lips, looking very much like a content Big Bad Wolf. Archer could almost see an imaginary tail wagging. He loves Mikhail’s body for all its glory and imperfections, even if the man himself didn’t, so leaving those marks on him was one of Archer’s many ways to show affection.

So one day when Mikhail shows up to work without bothering to cover up (it wasn’t noticeable anyway, his dark skin, tattoos and intimidating aura was enough for people not to look long enough to notice anything), Logan, who was beside Mikhail getting prepared for a scene, saw a small portion of scratch marks on his chest, the rest hidden by the v-neck shirt Mikhail wore.

And before he could stop his mouth, Logan found himself asking, “You have a cat, Mikhail?” Yuki, who was in the room with them too, looked up from reading his script upon hearing the brave attempt of Logan to converse with Mikhail. He didn’t join them, but he sat there, just listening in on their conversation. He didn’t have the guts that Logan had, but he was still interested to see how their conversation would go.

Mikhail looked at him–it was an ordinary glance but Logan still almost flinched. “Oh?”

'It was a gentler reply than I expected,’ Yuki thought. 'He is in a good mood?’

Logan seemed to think that as well, so he carried on the conversation. “Since when did you have it? Did you get it vaccinated yet? Some cats are just really playful, they don’t mean to be naughty, so it’s better to be patient and discipline them when–”

“Why do you think I have a cat?” Mikhail interrupted.

“Hm? Ah, I saw the scratch on your chest. What does your cat look like, by the way?”

Mikhail thought about it before he answered. “Pretty, soft, round, and pure white, got some claws, but never intends to hurt me. It’s cute.”

“And the eyes?” Logan eagerly asked.

“Hypnotic.” Mikhail unconsciously smiled, though Logan didn’t seem to notice, too happy to talk to the man in a pleasant manner. “Makes the cutest sounds too.”

But Yuki did.

“You must really love your cat huh?” Logan, as well as the silent Yuki, was surprised to know that Mikhail had a soft side. Well, not so surprised. He’s only ever truly obedient to Archer, whether the two of them noticed it or not.

Mikhail thought back to the man resting at home. Archer’s next scene was scheduled for tomorrow, so he had enough time to recover the energy he lost.

Mikhail played with his 'cat’ a bit too much last night. His clothes hid the many marks all over his chest and back made by his oh so cute little cat who grew resentful of Mikhail’s stamina, yet still unable to withstand mewling to his irresistible charm.

With a mischievous smile, Mikhail said, “I do.”

—-

Bonus:

After the shoot, in the shower rooms.

Yuki’s reaction when he saw Mikhail’s back: やっぱりね~ [Yappari ne~] Not a ネコ [neko], but a こいびと [koibito]…. Well, maybe both.

((A/N: Fun fact, neko in Japanese slang can also mean the “bottom” in a relationship. The more you know~

Can you guys recommend some sexy songs? I need background music for when I write stuff like this lol))

——

The first time Mikhail 'met’ Archer, it was on the radio. He was in his car, driving alone to a destination that no upright citizen should have any business with. He wasn’t in a good mood. Everything ticked him off–the traffic that he’d already passed, the voices on the radio who thought they were being funny, the sun blazing high up in the cloudless sky. He turned the radio off because it was annoying, but the goddamn silence left him with too much space to think. He needed a distraction. So he turned it back on and chose a random station.

“–by Archer Charles,” after the introduction, a pleasant-sounding voice thanked and began to sing live.

When Mikhail heard that voice, he sharply inhaled through his nose, his slightly dry lips parting.

Mikhail was not very good at describing. He could only say what he felt upon listening to Archer’s voice. Mikhail, who had been irate, was awestruck. He had never heard a voice so…. erotic. It’s not that the song itself was sexy or whatever, but there was something about that voice that made him….

'Ah.’

“Damn.” Mikhail cursed when he looked down to check his pants. “Almost.”

Mikhail heaved a deep breath to calm himself down.

'Charles Archer, was it?’

Ever since then, he became a fan of Archer. He kept this interest a secret from his colleagues; he didn’t want to hear their ribbing. He supported the singer the best he could and eventually, an opportunity arised for him to meet Archer at last.

He took a day off and even disguised himself to look as normal and harmless as possible for a man of his stature. Of course, he got his hands on a backstage pass. It wasn’t difficult to get for someone like him. He asked the staff if it was possible for him to meet the singer before the concert, because despite having taken a day off for today, Mikhail was concerned he would have to cut his holiday short. What if there was an emergency at work halfway through the concert? No, he’ll make use of this backstage pass, he would make sure he wouldn’t leave this place without meeting Archer.

At least, that’s what he thought before hearing his voice.

They were separated by the door he was about to open, but he could clearly hear an angel from behind this flimsy slab of wood. Mikhail knew from Archer’s instagram story yesterday that he was singing a song from an animated movie he just watched and he really loved it. Archer sung the song slowly, gently, as if lulling a child to sleep, and yet it did not lose its cheer.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas With never a fear of drowning And gladly ride the waves of life If you would marry me,

"No scorching sun nor freezing cold Will stop me on my journey If you will promise me your heart And love me for eternity,”

Oh. Oh. Mikhail covered his mouth with his hand, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. The staff were buzzing around in preparation for the concert, but all he could hear was Archer’s voice.

“I have no use for rings of gold I care not for your poetry I only want your hand to hold I only want you near me,”

His hands were trembling–from what, he wasn’t sure. It was as if he had no control over his body. He felt parched, but at the same time, while listening to Archer, he felt so good. The best ever, after all these years. Like he was floating, higher and higher, Archer leading him by the hands, and Mikhail did not feel a shred of fear of falling.

“To love and kiss to sweetly hold For the dancing and the dreaming Through all life’s sorrows and delights I’ll keep your laugh beside me,

"I’ll swim and sail on savage seas With never a fear of drowning I’d gladly ride the waves so white If you will marry me!”

The heart he thought that had gone cold was reminding Mikhail of its presence when he heard the loud beating, as if his heart were right next his ears. His body seemed to throb achingly along with every beat.

Mikhail was brought back to earth when he felt the vibrating of his phone. It was the right decision to use the backstage pass early. He had to go back now.

'Meeting Archer will have to be moved. Again.’ Mikhail thought, changing out of the disguise in his car.

He was pissed that his work disturbed his time with Archer. Mikhail knew that after today, it wouldn’t be enough for him to just listen to his voice from a recording. He was being greedy, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. After hearing his voice in real life, after almost seeing those mesmerizing scarlet eyes for himself, after being so close to meeting the reason he’s been sleeping well these past few months,

How could it be held against him to want more?

Mikhail had been mulling over this for a long time, but now he finally had the resolve to do so. He had enough power, he could do it.

Mikhail wanted to be with Archer.

But first, he had to go to Archer’s world.

—–

“I only want one person to play Abel.” Mikhail demanded.

The director raised an eyebrow, meeting Mikhail’s glare with a steady gaze. “I chose you because you’re a perfect fit for the role of Emilio, even though you’re a complete rookie.” Milo went back to looking at applicants for the role. “You’re in no place to make demands.” Milo retorted, disregarding the fact that Mikhail was the drama’s biggest sponsor. From the short time he’s known the man, he knew Mikhail wasn’t so unreasonable that he thought the world should bow to his whims because of money. However, he did have no qualms in using to his advantage the fear of people towards him due to the rumors of his ties to a gang.

“Archer. Archer Charles.” Mikhail took a drag of his cigarette, rudely blowing smoke to Milo’s direction, although they were on either ends of a long table so Milo didn’t mind.

Milo paused. The name that Mikhail said just so happened to be the one he was currently looking at. 'He looks…. good. A singer? Hmm.’ Archer was the one who had everything Milo was looking for in Abel. But he didn’t want to indulge that brat. He wouldn’t admit out loud that the one Mikhail recommended looked fit for the role.

“We’ll see in the auditions,” is what Milo finally said. “let them all act out a scene with you. The chosen actor for Abel should have good chemistry with Emilio’s actor.”

In contrast to what Milo predicted, Mikhail’s eyes gleamed, a slight smirk on his lips as he scoffed, “Chemistry? I’ll show you chemistry. Careful not to burn your pretty boy face,”

Milo smiled sweetly. “My my, how thoughtful of you.”

Mikhail held his cigarette in one hand, using the other to flip the director off. Milo mentally laughed at his juvenile response.

After three candidates, it was finally Archer’s turn. From the moment he entered the room, he brought with him a soothing aura and such a genuine smile that they couldn’t help but return the smile, easing the atmosphere in the room. From the corner of his eyes, Milo knew that Mikhail’s gaze never left the singer.

“You’re not being very subtle, you know?” Milo teased lowly.

“Mind your own damn business, pretty boy.” Mikhail would have snarled, but his eyes were still trained on the angelic singer in front of them, and he didn’t seem to be capable of showing a bad face in the presence of Abel. There was no way Archer couldn’t notice it, so Milo admired the way Archer didn’t seem to mind. That in itself already won him plus points; despite Mikhail’s unconcealed disinterest, the other candidates were still visibly nervous because of him. Regardless of what Archer thought of Mikhail, he didn’t outwardly show it.

Milo asked them to do two scenes–the first was a very short, simple scene compared to the others: Emilio coming home after two days and Abel comforting his touch-starved husband.

The scriptwriter was already losing her mind, soundlessly slapping the producer beside her. She spoke in a tone that was between a whisper and a squeal, “Oh my god, oh my god. They’re so perf I cannot even. They’re like, they’re like, so good together. Archer looks so soft and warm and white like rice, Mikhail is a mouth-watering dish, and together they make a complete meal!”

The second scene was not so innocent. To see how well they’d work together ad lib, they were not given any lines, just a scenario.

Abel in heat, in need of his alpha.

The judges watched, engrossed in the scene played out by the two. Archer’s wet, glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, panting and whimpering as he stared up at Mikhail, wordlessly pleading to be held. Mikhail, rigid for all but three seconds, scooped him into his arms, his unveiled desire lacing his husky voice and the almost feral look in his eyes. “I got you, babe.”

Archer went limp in his embrace, letting his whole weight be carried by Mikhail, arms reaching up to hug his neck. He rubbed his cheek against Mikhail’s neck, bare skin on bare skin, and let the words breathily escape from his mouth: “Please, dear, please, hmmm….”

At this point, the scriptwriter couldn’t hold her shrieking anymore, and so the spell was broken; Archer moved five steps away from Mikhail, who looked terribly displeased at the disturbance. “You got it! Oh honey, you’re perfect!” She stood up from her seat and enthusiastically gushed about the chemistry between the two.

The producer tugged her sleeve and reminded, “We have yet to discuss it together, keep your crazy down.” It is notable though, that the producer did not refute her words.

“Fine, let’s talk about it now. What does director think?” she turned to ask Milo.

Milo didn’t reply to her. Instead, he looked at Archer with a welcoming smile. “We start shooting next month, please call your manager in and we’ll discuss in more detail.”

The moment the cameras were rolling–no, even if they were off, sparks would still fly, that much the judges could tell. They were so perfect for the roles, they even pulled off not being cringy or awkward despite being relatively new to the acting business. It was because they complemented each other, both as themselves and the characters they portray.

Granted, Mikhail played favorites and didn’t do his best with the others trying out for the role, but what he had with Archer…. was unique. Together they were like a flame. They made anyone watching them feel like moths unable to look away from the bright and warm light, and anyone who gets too close will burn. Milo knew he struck gold with these two.

Milo looked at the innocent Archer and the devilish Mikhail. 'Poor kid. He’s not letting you go.’ Milo mentally smiled mischievously. 'Oh well, this will be fun to watch.’

—–

Bonus:

Archer, alone in a room: w h y, he was so cool, I was so flustered I couldn’t even look him in the eye, I’m so lame aaaaaahhhhh

—–

“I love it when you sing for me,” Mikhail says, his fingers tracing random patterns on his wife’s chest. “Even better when I make you sing.”

Archer shot an amused glance at his fiance, catching the man’s wandering hand on his chest because it was starting to tickle and make him shiver, and he was not about to be led into another round. Archer is determined to stand his ground this time, not to be affected by Mikhail’s seduction. It was his own stubbornness really, because it was so frustrating that he was the only one who always got flustered and unraveled.

But he has yet to learn his lesson, since he naively asked, “What’s the difference?”

Mikhail softly nips at Archer’s exposed collarbone, and Archer all but melts into a puddle when his irritatingly charming husband-to-be whispers, Mikhail’s lips against the helix of his ear: “Let’s find out, hm?”

Archer thinks to himself, 'Whatever, it’s not like he’s bad at it.’ When Archer has these kinds of thoughts, he feels even more embarrassed, and takes it out on Mikhail, the bad influence, by biting whatever part of his body Archer can reach at the moment.

And years after, as Archer reads a book on the large sofa while Mikhail naps with his head on Archer’s thicc lap, he realizes something about his husband.

Mikhail had the power to make Archer’s knees tremble in the most delightful way. He could make Archer reach the limits of his vocal range as they exercised. He could crumble Archer with a single, rare smile–a genuine smile, not a teasing grin or a provocative smirk, not that they don’t make him feel butterflies all the same.

But Archer, it belatedly dawned on him who made Mikhail that way. Archer roused the fire in Mikhail, made it hungry for him, made it want him. Archer didn’t just see it–he heard it, he felt it. Everyday, Mikhail would kiss him. He was not shy to say 'I love you’ contrary to everyone else’s expectations; he would hug Archer’s waist, bury his head on the crook of Archer’s neck, and mutter, 'I missed you’ or 'Come home soon’ when either of them became bogged with a packed schedule. Archer didn’t even know if Mikhail was conscious that he makes puppy dog eyes when doing those gestures.

Archer makes Mikhail melt.

He was notorious in the industry for the rumors of his ties to the yakuza, and it didn’t help that he looked the part and always answered ambiguously when asked. There was no media coverage about their tying the knot, perhaps thanks to Mikhail’s interference, but the people in their industry know. Most, who have never seen or worked with them together, didn’t believe it would last. They had even been worried about Archer getting hurt.

Hurt? By this defenseless, naughty, loving man?

Archer’s nails dug into the skin of his hands and assured them that his husband was not that kind of man. He smiled, but deep inside he was angry. Angry at them, but also at himself. Because once upon a time, he was scared of Mikhail too. Scared of him because of the rumors, scared of him because of his daunting build, scared of how easily Mikhail could break him, scared of how, despite all that, Mikhail was still so attractive in his eyes.

But Mikhail was gentle. Yes he was teasing and lewd, but he was always so sweet, so caring. Mikhail would cup his hands on Archer’s cheeks, staring in entertainment at how he made him blush, then kiss his pouting lips several times. And then, Mikhail would smile. His eyes curved, whatever harshness on his face melted away.

Archer still remembers the day he said yes.

Mikhail had never looked as nervous, then dumbfounded, then jubilant in a span of a minute. Mikhail grabbed him into a hug and spun him around, bursting with an unrestrained, happy laugh. If others saw Mikhail then, they would probably be weirded out and think he’s on some sort of drugs. He was never so positively expressive outside of acting out his role, and even then, most of them were directed at Archer. For Archer, it wasn’t strange at all. Mikhail slowly opens up to him for each day they are together, in the more frequent smiles, in the stories of his tattoos and the scars underneath. He knew Mikhail was only like that in front of him, and he felt so childish for feeling proud of it.

Mikhail put him back on his feet, arms still around his waist. They were forehead to forehead, eyes focused on the other pair, and Mikhail swore, “I’ll be good to you forever,”

Archer smiled. He had half the mind to think, 'Oh, he was a forever man. Such a romantic.’ He said, “I know. I’ll be good to you forever too,”

Archer ingrained in his memories the look of absolute joy and love on Mikhail.

Mikhail stirred from his nap. “Um…. hey.” the man blinked a couple of times. “Did you eat yet? Sorry, just wake me up next time.”

“It’s too early to eat, dear, it’s only been an hour. You came home in the morning, you should catch up on your sleep.” Mikhail always rushed home after an out of town job, unmindful of the jetlag and exhaustion that would follow.

“Yeah,” there was still sleep in Mikhail’s tone. Archer knew he would go back to sleep if he just closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you close your eyes?” At this point in their relationship, Archer was aware that Mikhail liked being spoiled, and he liked it even more when he could flirt like this with Archer.

“I want my goodnight kiss.” Mikhail said righteously.

Archer chuckled and bent down to place a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips.

He put a hand on Mikhail’s forehead, brushing away the stray strands of hair. “There, now go to sleep, dear.”

Mikhail hummed, evidently pleased, and obediently followed his wife’s demand.

As for whether Archer stole a kiss from his handsome sleeping husband, and whether Mikhail was actually asleep, that would be a secret they’d keep to themselves.

——

((A/N:

Q: If Mikhail is so tired since he rushed home, why are they resting on the sofa? Isn’t the bed more comfy?

A: The bed is broken. They have yet to buy a new bed because Abel wants Mikhail to learn to be more restrained. Mikhail is okay with it, since this time, he is thinking of testing the durability of the sofa, the table, the bathtub….))

Bonus:

Preparing for the wedding.

Archer: Dear, do you think I should wear a suit, or a gown?

Mikhail: Doesn’t matter.

Archer: ( • ^ • ) ?

Mikhail: I’ll be taking it off anway. ( =-= ) ✧

Archer: *sighs* I should’ve known. (〃 - 〃)

Mikhail: Wear whatever’s comfortable for you. You look beautiful in anything, even in nothing. Especially in nothing.

Archer: Mikhail! (⁄ ⁄>⁄ꇴ⁄<⁄ ⁄) … . *whispers* You too.

[izukult]

the stages of mourning △ {p.p}

warnings / i’m SORRY ok this is sad bitch hours. angst, swearing, death death death, kinda vividish descriptions of death!! she says fuck like 8009482849293929 times

summary / he couldn’t come home every time.

word count / 5.5k (i POPPED off)

notes / PROMISE i give it a somewhat tranquil ending i’m sorry. also please read this it took me so long i put so much TIME INTO THIS. ALSO I COULDNT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO THE READ MORE THING BC IM STUPID AND I FORGOT IM SO SORRY @ EVERYONE WHO DOESNT READ THIS PLS DONT HATE ME

[gif is not mine]

↴

denial

when you watched peter parker die, you pinched the skin on the back of your hand; you almost believed it was a nightmare because the physical pain was drowned out by the sight before you.

“peter- peter listen to me, hey-” your knees scraped on the cement of the road, small patches of your blood sliding onto the ground, melding into peters. “hey, it’s me. it’s y/n.” your hand was shaky as it came into contact with his shoulder, “it’s y/n.” you slowly pulled off his mask, grimacing at the discoloration of his face. his breathing was slow, heavy, as he looked at you. you could tell he was struggling with trying to close his mouth, and right when he did, he immediately coughed, gagging and spitting blood onto your torso.

“‘m sorry,” you shook your head, bottom lip quivering.

“no- no, pete, it’s okay. don’t be sorry. it’s okay,” your other hand came under his head, lifting him up slightly and cradling him like a newborn. “you’re okay.”

he smiled, as much as he could, and his eyes lazily scanned the area around you. he looked at the rubble and the indented car and other such mayhem around him. “did we do it? did i do it?” you nodded, clearing your throat to cover a sob.

“you did it, pete. you always do it.”

“spiderman always does it.” he grinned, wincing and shutting his eyes as tight as he could. the gashes on his stomach almost seemed protruding and he had marks of purple from previous encounters of asphyxiation. he clearly had broken ribs, and from the way it was bent, you could tell his left leg was broken. you didn’t look at that, though. instead, you looked at the way his hair still parted perfectly itself.

“no. no, you did it. peter parker did it.” he lifted a hand, almost pathetically, and lightly squeezed your arm.

“always did it for you,” and your heart wrenched. you let out a bark of a sob, your breathing becoming rapid. you wanted to close your eyes, rest your forehead on peters shoulder like you had so many times before, but you made sure to keep looking at him. looking at how he breathed, how his eyes held so much light even as he was dimming. you swiped your thumb over his cheekbone, smearing blood that had formed at another of his miscellaneous cuts.

“oh, sweet, sweet peter parker.” you remember that your voice was a hoarse whisper. at the time, it felt like that was all you could get out. you couldn’t speak louder or you would both shatter. at this point, people were gathering. to your disinterest, cameras were pointed. and, typically, you would’ve stopped them but right then all you could do was look at peter. “i love you so, so much.” and he smiled, he smiled that signature peter parker grin, clad with slightly broken teeth and a crinkle at his eyes. and then he convulsed. and his breathing sounded like hiccups and then it sounded like nothing and the brown of his eyes was almost a gray and they wouldn’t stop staring at you.

“peter-” you felt your heart stop, for just a second. your eyes widened, and you moved both your hands to his shoulders immediately. “peter, hey, peter-” you shook him, his corpse, slightly. “peter, please-.” and the sobs started to wrack your body again. you heard natasha’s gasp faintly over the pounding of your head, and you were sure tony had tried to pull you back but you jerked forward, back to the boy you loved.

“peter, please- please close your eyes, peter.” you shook him a little more, your wheezes erratic and your teeth chattering against each other. “peter, close your fucking eyes. this isn’t funny.” but he didn’t. he didn’t and you knew he wouldn’t. your shriek was louder than the commotion of everything around you.

“no.” your shook your head, maneuvering your arms under his back. “no no no-.” you lifted him up and regretted it as you caught a glimpse of what used to be him fall into the cracks of the ground from his stomach. you turned your head to the side, away from peter parker’s broken, perfect figure, and wretched until you were just dry heaving and sobbing and you didn’t know what was your blood and what was his but your tears were mixing into it. “no, you- you’re-.”

tony grabbed you again, gently trying to guide you from peter- from your peter.

“kid, you-.” you snapped your head to him, tears stains on your now pale skin. “he’s gone.”

“no. no!” you glared at him and you knew you shouldn’t talk to tony fucking stark like that but you didn’t care. “he’s fine. shut the fuck up.” you still held your broken boy in your hands as you looked at tony. “he promised- he-.” your body ruptured into sobs again.

“he said after this we’d- we’d just go home and watch- he promised we’d go to the compound and have a normal fucking night and this wouldn’t be a big fucking deal.” your eyes were wild and your face was scrunched. nothing about you was beautiful in this moment. “he promised.”

“i’m sorry.” never had you seen tony so deflated; never had you seen a town so deflated. suddenly, the air felt different, and the world felt darker. there was no more peter parker to light it anymore.

you turned back to him and sucked in a breath. “oh, pete,” you kissed his forehead, moving to each of his temples. you pressed three soft, pure kisses on his cheeks and nose, letting his blood become a lipstick that he had said was his favorite shade on you. when you kissed him, finally, his lips were starting to cool. they were chapped, as always, but they didn’t have the warmth and energy he radiated. this time, when you kissed him, his hands didn’t move your hair or rest on your waist, but they stayed down. this time, when you kissed him, there was none of him pulling back red and breathless just to look at you. this time, when you kissed him, there was nothing. your forehead pressed with his and your tears gave him the warmth that he was missing. “you promised.”

anger

you littered your body with bruises to match those that peter had; learned all the defenses that could’ve saved him.

handling peters death wasn’t something you we exactly doing. your body was weak; holding out on meals, drinking nothing but caffeine, and overworking daily.

you’d grown accustomed to falling asleep under the pressure of peters arm. you listened to his heartbeat instead of music- once you’d joked that since he was attuned to your heart you should memorize the tune of his-, and used his body heat as a blanket. now, when you closed your eyes, your body was too cold and too hot. now, when you closed your eyes, you saw how blank he became. now, when you closed your eyes, you remembered beating the almost defeated doctor octavius until he followed peter. now, when you closed your eyes, you felt the horror you’d felt when you realized you’d killed him.

your jaw was clenched, teeth grating against each other. your eyes were slits, glaring at the black clad bag. you lifted your hands in a right, left, right formation before following with two immediate left jabs. you stopped taping your hands the day after peter died. you let the sand in the bag crack your skin, push your knuckles inwards, bend your fingers slightly and never cried about it. you never cried. after the first night, you didn’t shed tears unless there was other water for them to blend with.

you hadn’t spoken much about him after that day, besides at his funeral. there was no one who knew peter parker as well as you, and it only felt right for the person he had loved the most to say a few words. and that’s what you did. you said a few words. because, honestly, you could talk about peter parker for hours. you could talk about the way his hands were calloused everywhere except his palms, or how when he laughed his right eye shut more than his left one. you could talk about how he once talked about the flaws of the back to the future trilogy for eighteen minutes and then rebutted his own argument for twenty six minutes. you could talk about how it took him twice as long to fall asleep on his back than it did on his stomach or every difference between his varied tone of voice. you could talk about how he carried the world on his shoulders and still let other people take the credit. but you would not talk about his fall, or his failure. you knew he wasn’t to be spoken about in such a manner, so you uttered as little as you could about his death.

you left his funeral early. after everyone found out he was spiderman, you were getting constantly bombarded with apologizes and praise. peter parker couldn’t even be a regular boy in his own death, and you felt the ceremony was too public.

you couldn’t bare to see him buried, either. part of you, all of you, was still hoping this was a big misunderstanding. that your boy would run to you, wrap you in his arms, pick you up, kiss you, tell you it was okay and that he was there. when you started to understand that he wasn’t coming back, when the shock started to wear off, you changed- your heart filled with more malice than it had before, and every time you touched something you felt that it should break under you. you were angry.

you punched the bag a few more times, throwing your all into in a rhythmic dance before your infuriation started to bubble over again. you hit it with improper form, spontaneously and full of rage. you felt your thumb turn backwards but you pushed farther, letting the sound of the bone cracking mix in with the dull sound of the leather. your vision blurred and you yelled, hitting it more with your fists vertical now, until you were pulled back and wrapped into someone’s arms.

you heaved, looked down, saw the gore from your finger stain their shirt, and pushed them away from you. you didn’t say a word as you panted, let your vexation deflate slightly and stared at the wall past the person.

“kid,” you jerked your neck, your eyes meeting tony’s. you silently, desperately, willed him not to say what you knew he’d say next. “you’ve got to stop, this isn’t good for you.” you swallowed slow, the burning of your throat- the sting of soreness- reminded you that you were alive and peter was not. “he wouldn’t want you to do this.”

and you laughed. at first it was just an exhale, a sarcastic ‘fuck you’ of air, but then it evolved. it turned into a full bodied laugh, your back leaning down in a terrible posture with your arm positioned on your stomach. you stumbled forward, used tony for support, as your chuckling stopped. there had been no sign of a smile on your face. you were eye level with tony, and you kept your hand on him as you looked at him directly.

“don’t tell me what peter would’ve fucking wanted.” your tone was harsh and you pushed yourself away from him- or more him away from you- and your vision glossed over.

“he wouldn’t want this, y/n.” your eye twitched slightly before you closed them both altogether.

“you know what he wanted, tony?” you took a step toward him, “he wanted to impress you.” you pressed your finger into his chest. “he wanted to be good enough for you,” you couldn’t get rid of the scowl on your face. “he was fine as the kid in the fucking pajamas. he was fucking happy.” your voice broke, and you cleared your throat, which seemed to be a common habit now.

“you did this to him. you brought him into stuff he wasn’t fucking ready for.” you knew it was cruel. you knew tony already stomached some of the blame. but you stood tall and clenched your hand into a fist, even your broken thumb, your eyes looking into his, almost challenging him.

“you need to get some sleep,” you scoffed.

“running away from your problems again, stark? how many people have you fucking killed, besides peter?” tony didn’t say anything. he didn’t snap at you, he didn’t apologize, and, more than that, you noticed he didn’t have any hint of emotion on his face.

“it should’ve been you, or at least me.” your breathing was hallow and you turned your torso, your legs still planted and threw a hard punch, wincing at the contact, before turning back to him. “but this stupid fucking team of egoists who think they’re better than every other goddamn person took a fucking child- he was just a child- and made him do their fucking work.” you exhaled through your nose, another quiet laugh spilling from your lips.

“you killed him! all of you did.” after you screamed the first sentence, tears started to pool in your eyes. it was the first time you’d cried in front of someone since you lost peter. you took a step closer and maintained eye contact as you spat on the mat near his feet. “and all of us are going to hell for it.” you walked past him, towards the door, and left past traces of your hands on the punching bag to rot.

“peter idolized you. he lost his life for you, so the least you could do is have a little fucking respect and not act like you know what he would’ve wanted for me.”

bargaining

peter used to joke about how good of a lawyer you’d make when you argued, and the thought consumed you for about six days.

“come on, strange,” you pleaded. his arms were crossed, and he hadn’t even bothered to dignify you with a glance.

“no,” you groaned, your eyes rolling. you were still on edge- still at snapping point, still broken- but you had been focusing your energy into an attempt to bring peter back. you had been surrounded with superheroes and magic all your life so you’d figured there was bound to be someone who could tinker with necromancy.

“i’m just asking you one favor-” stephen stopped moving and turned to look at you. even though his face was blank, he had the evident dr. strange ‘not-in-the-mood-for-your-shit’ aura.

“a favor? you’re asking me to bring someone back from the dead. not only does that go against every one of my teachings as a doctor, but it could also completely obliterate this universe’s timeline.”

“obliterate it? really?” you had disbelief in your eyes which glazed over the hope you were trying to hide.

“yes!” stephen brought his arms to his sides. “peter’s dead.” his tone softened slightly, his sympathy wrapping around your shoulders like a blanket. “i’m sorry.”

you exhaled, shrugging your shoulders, and trying to stop yourself from acknowledging the pressure that formed at your waterline. “no, don’t be. you’re right. he’s just dead.” you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“if you’re not going to help me, i’ll find someone who will.” you hadn’t been able to get any progress on the whole ‘zombie parker operation’. you’d tried everything from lab tests to pleading with some aliens- who tried to kill you shortly after.

you’d never been an overly religious person. you didn’t go to church every week and you didn’t pray before every meal. after seeing all the things you saw, watching people get murdered and assaulted and the people who attack just for the laugh, you got weary with the idea that a god could be real.

at peters funeral, you didn’t show a hint of emotion at the ‘he’s in a better place now’ comments or the ‘god took him to rest with his family’ notion. while it was a nice thought, you felt that peter parker resided in the spot on the street where his soul left him. in your mind, peter lived on through the kisses he’d left on your cheeks and the echo of his laugh through the compound at three am.

after everything, you could only assume god was dead. but, desperate times call for desperate measures.

you’d wound up in peter’s untouched room. your eyes glazed over with a mist and a wet breath fell in sync with a tear. you walked over to his dresser, the rustic wood covered in an array of random shit that peter just couldn’t clean, and looked at the stack of pictures he had of you and him, or just you. your finger traced over the print of his hair; you don’t know how long you held the photo, but when the tears started to slide off of it- form puddles on the lamination-, you placed it back down. you moved to his bed, sat down and inhaled the scent of his pillows.

you looked up at the ceiling peter had definitely tried to do tricks off of. “god?” you cleared your throat. you felt stupid, childish, trying to talk to something you never worshipped before. “hi, uh, it’s me.” your voice was saturated with tears, thick with saliva, but you chose to ignore it. “i know i’ve- i don’t really- i don’t really necessarily do all the things you’re supposed to do when- uh- that you want me to do, i guess.”

you bit your cheek, clenching the cotton of peters pillowcase. “so, if you’re real, i don’t know why you’d do anything for me. i’m not- i’m not really a good person.” you shut your eyes tight, bringing your knees up to your chin. “but peter? peter was good. as good as you, if not better. all he wanted was to help people- he died helping people- he died.” you shook your head, your eyes opening and glancing back at the popcorn material of the roof.

“if you’re real, if you’re hearing this, i beg you. please, bring him back. somehow. please, just keep him safe, he just needs to be safe.” your voice cut off and you didn’t bother to try to bring it back up. you knew it was foolish, that this wasn’t how it worked, but you waited for a voice or for a sign. you don’t know how long you waited, or how long until any hope left your body. you don’t know how long it was until you fell asleep in peters sheets, staining the place you used to lay together with your tears. you don’t remember being covered in a blanket by tony or the looks of pity- empathy- from the other avengers. you don’t know anything else about what happened that night other than the fact that after that you knew peter was gone.

depression

when peter was out patrolling, you often stole his sweaters. the feeling was almost like he was giving you a warm hug, pressing into your skin lightly. after he died, you tried to pretend the little things were him as well.

it only took you about two weeks to go back to school. you knew you had to go back sometime, that just because one life stopped didn’t mean everything else did. people at school looked at you differently now. they gave a softer image to you, bit back every word to make sure it was okay to say. they held your tired eyes in their hands and tried to make sure you didn’t break.

you’d stopped eating, almost completely. unless someone forced you to eat, which sometimes you’d still denied, food was out of the picture for you. overall, your hygiene went down in general. you weren’t doing your homework, showers became less and less frequent and your biggest habit became sleep. so, school was a big step (so was stepping at all).

you sat at your desk next to michelle and ned. peters death hit them both pretty hard, but it didn’t seem to have the same effect as it had on you. all of your class, you’d try not to look over to the empty chair that peter parker used to sit in every day; and when you would look that way, one of them would squeeze your hand. they’d ground you enough so you didn’t float away. but with current circumstances, that was just enough.

flash approached you, clearing his throat and offering you a weak smile.

“hey,” you looked at him, eyes almost permanently stained red, and offered the closest thing you could to a welcoming grin.

“hey.”

“i- uh-” he paused. you could see him bite down on his bottom lip, which was slightly more chapped than peters used to be, watch as he pondered over his next sentence just as everyone else around you did.

“i- i like your sweater. it’s sick.” you didn’t need to look down at the sweater to know what he was talking about. your heart clenched, the fabric that slipped slightly past your finger tips suddenly starting to feel like it was trapping you.

“thanks, it was peter’s.” and there it was, in the open. it was peter’s. the lines of color on the gray sweater were fading and the star wars print had started to chip, but peter still wore it religiously around the compound. “i- i took it from him one day and just never gave it back. didn’t have the time.” the air felt thick. it was hard to swallow, even harder to come back out. you could see the regret on his face, the guilt and the pain.

“he- he was really- i’m- i feel bad. i treated him like shit.” he ran a quick hand through his hair and you nodded.

“you did. don’t worry, pete’s a forgiving soul.” you shrugged, placing a hand under your chin to still your jaw so your teeth wouldn’t chatter.

“he was a good dude.”

“yeah, he was.” you didn’t realize you’d started crying until you felt the warmth on your face. at this point, you hardly recognized when you cried. you felt almost blank, and when you weren’t you just missed him.

“alright, bud, that’s enough.” mj. she protected you, looked out for you, and she was going to end the conversation for you.

flash mumbled an apology, or maybe a condolence, and left back to his seat and you moved to wipe away the tears. mj placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing her thumb lightly to try to calm you.

“he didn’t mean anything by that. it’s just flash, yknow? he can’t tell a mome-”

“do you think i should’ve given him back his sweater?” your eyes were wide and the precipitation from them amplified their shine in an almost sick way.

“what?”

“peter. do you think he was mad i kept his sweaters?” your nerves started to build up and if you’d had the energy to hyperventilate you would’ve, instead your breaths just came out heavy and slow. “i could’ve done so much more, yknow?”

“hey,” she tried to cut you off, bring you out of the spiral you were falling into.

“no, i’m serious. i- i remember when i got this sweater. he’d just swung right out the window- no reason to hide the identity anymore, yknow? everyone knows- anyway, he’d just left and i already missed him so much. i was so fucking overdramatic.” the laugh that bubbled in your throat erupted as a sob and you felt so stupid for doing this in class but you were wearing peters sweatshirt and he wasn’t there to kiss your cheek or play with your hair or call you his pretty girl or anything and he’d never be there again so crying felt like an okay response.

“i always got so scared when he’d leave, that he’d end up dead and alone out there. he wasn’t alone, though. i was there- i was there and i couldn’t save him. i- i’d missed him so much and i loved this kid so fucking much and there was this stupid fucking sweater that smelled like old spice on steroids and i just- oh my god, i miss him so fucking much.” your breathing had quickened now and everyone was looking at you and you were just looking at the empty chair.

“i shouldn’t have taken his clothes. he’d always make jokes, maybe they weren’t jokes, about how pretty soon he’d have nothing to wear and i shouldn’t have taken his fucking stuff, i shouldn’t-” you paced yourself, letting out a single even breath.

“do you think he knew?” mj didn’t say anything. no one said anything. they just watched you. they felt your pain from your body, from the fabric. “think he knew how much i loved him?” you wiped the tears from your face once more. “god, i hope he did.”

“of course he did.” ned spoke up this time. you could hear his heart in his voice; you could hear everyone’s heart in their voice. queens had lost spiderman, midtown had lost peter parker, and you had lost your family. “you made it disgustingly obvious.” you forced out a laugh and turned your attention to ned, who cracked a smile at you. “it’s not your fault.” you looked at him and the guilt you’d placed behind poorly sewn cotton came bursting through the dam and ned knew you meant so much more.

“peter would never have thought it was your fault.”

“i know.”

“he knew what he was doing.”

“i know.”

“and he loved you so much while doing it.” and you did grin. your fingers closed around the end of the sleeves, and you looked down at the thing that most closely resembled the boy you loved.

“i know.” you were tired; everyone could see you were tired. so, when the two asked to take you to the nurses, no one disagreed. your feet were slow as you walked, your eyes barely bothered to stay open anymore, and you felt like you’d lost your personality in the cracks of the road that day. you knew you’d lost your soul there. when you were sitting on the makeshift bed in the health room, waiting for someone to pick you up, you closed your eyes and brought the hem of peter’s sweater up to your face. you breathed in, felt the tears fall again, and this time allowed them. your mouth didn’t move from a straight line and you felt almost a consistency of numbness but you imagined peter there next to you, telling you you were going to be just fine.

“i love you.” and you stayed like that until someone came for you.

acceptance

the one time peter tried to take you on a picnic, he had to go for his spiderman responsibilities. you weren’t mad, you ended up just looking at the city from the balcony when he came back, but you never got around to the task.

it had been 46 days since peter parker died. over a month since he’d said his last word, laughed his last laugh, kissed his last kiss. slowly, with time and so much pain, you were coming back to life.

you missed him every day, sometimes ignoring it was impossible and you’d break down- fall apart at the seems-, but you were getting better at holding yourself together.

you looked in the mirror, flattening your hair with a hand, pressing it down, and nodded a little. you looked at the outfit and huffed out a breath of air. “i think this was it,” you knew it was, you remembered the photos, but you still asked yourself. you informed someone you were leaving, where you were going, and made your way.

it was your first time visiting peters grave since his funeral. seeing the tombstone was almost too much for you.

Here Lies

PETER PARKER

August 10, 2001 - March 4, 2019

Beloved hero, nephew, and friend.

Long live Spiderman.

your breathing cut off as you read, and for a second you felt an anger at the last part, but you knew that was part of him. it was a big part of him, and of course it was going to be recognized. because it was still peter parker and peter parker was spiderman. you placed the basket down and crouched down to touch the stone.

“hey, pete.” you opened the basket and grabbed the flowers you’d had placed at the top, and left the handful of daisies you’d brought at the base of the marble. “i’m sorry it took me so long to come see you,” you could envision him saying it was okay, that he was just glad to see you at all, and you shook your head. you had to stop hiding in figments of him.

“i thought- i thought we could finally have that picnic?” you let out a quiet laugh, your hand tracing the lettering. “i wore the same outfit, brought the same food- made it the way you’d wanted it.” your exhales were choppy as you started to empty the basket and you whimpered slightly as tears started to fall again.

“i miss you so much, peter.” your eyes were closed, tears moving from your face to your neck, but a small smile tugged at your features. “i say that so often. i hope wherever you are, you’re happy now.” you moved and opened a cart of strawberries, grabbing one. “everyone at school misses you. everyone does.” you took a bite from the strawberry, swallowing it quickly as you remembered something.

“oh!” you wiped your mouth, rubbing the juice from the strawberry on your leg. “there’s a day for you now? like a remember spiderman day thing. there was a vigil, too, it was supposed to be really beautiful. i didn’t go- i couldn’t go.” even though he wasn’t there, even though you felt yourself breaking all over again, talking to him through dirt and stone made you feel the most natural and at home you’d felt since his death.

“saw flash weeping over you, man.” you finished that strawberry and let out a little laugh. “we all love you, parker. i’ve been checking up on may. so has happy, if ya know what i mean.” you laughed again. “sorry,” you played with your fingers, a nervous habit you’d had most of your teenage career.

“i hope we meet again, peter. i know we will.” and as you looked at this stone and all the other stones around, all the memories came back so strong. every moment you’d ever had with peter. you remembered the way he breathed late at night, every time he’d tripped while looking at you, all the stupid fights you’d had, and the dumb ways he’d apologized. every utterly domestic thing about peter came back and it was too little for him. it wasn’t enough to be his whole life. “i think you and me could’ve been forever.” you nodded, chewing the inside of your bottom lip. “in a way, i think we will be.”

you kept a hand on the stone. “you were worth the whole fucking world, peter.” you kissed the rock, which may have been gross but you didn’t really care at the moment. “i’ll think about you, always. i do think about you always.” you remembered how soft his face was under your hand or the way when you were sad he would hug you so tight and so strong. “you’ll always be my favorite boy.” how he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen every moment he saw you. “you’ll always be my favorite hero.” the way he gripped onto your hand when you were never. “i can’t wait to see you again.” you hoped that your tears wouldn’t have any help in the process of eroding the gravestone, but you knew tony would have it fixed if it had so much as a dent.

“i promise i’ll come by more often.” you meant it. you’d continue to come by, visits never getting less frequent. going there was your way of still being connected with him. you went at least once a week, always with a recap and thoughts of him. when you got older, you realized life was moving and you had to move with it. you’d still come by when you could, but visits seemed to hold to maybe once every month or every few months. but, you always thought of peter parker, at graduation, on your wedding day, when raising your children. you saw peter parker’s face in the beauty of the world and heard his laugh in music. and you thought of peter when your time finally came, when you were finally reunited with the boy you kept in your heart all your life.

but, in that moment, you just looked at the daisies and the food. “but, enough about that. let’s finally have this picnic, pretty boy.”

[7-wonders]

Totally F***ed

Summary: Michael lays out the terms and conditions for this screwed-up marriage you’re now unwillingly a part of.

Word Count: 2322

A/N: Hey hi hello! Trigger warnings first, I guess. TWs for forced marriage, mentions of kidnapping, kind of getting close to dub-con (but not really bc there’s no smut). This is the second part to Mad Love, which I’ll have linked down below. Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated and requests are always open!

Read Mad Love (aka part one) HERE

When you were little, you used to love carousels. The cheerful music that played nonstop, the beautiful painted horses that were forever frozen to one pose, and the whirling of the ride around its fixed axis. Most of all, you loved picking your favorite horse and throwing your head back, letting the world blur around you. The music, the colors, the people, the smells, they all morphed together until you were nearly dizzy from the overload on your senses. Your current situation has you feeling like the small child on the carousel again, but with less cotton candy and more Satanists.

Your head is spinning as you try to keep up with everything that’s happening. The followers had swarmed to the front of the room after Michael had given them the signal, hands gripping at your clothes and lifting you into the air. Every so often, you get a glimpse of a face; the expressions are all the same, with their creepy smiles and wide eyes. They’re cheering and singing while they carry you out of the ‘sanctuary’ (can you call it a sanctuary if it’s in a Satanic church?) and into another area of this still-unfamiliar building. Michael’s enjoying this far too much, smirking and waving at those that carry him next to you.

While the man responsible for this mess relishes in the attention, you’re scoping the place out. There’s windows out here, and the light filtering through makes you think that the ‘church’ itself is a large basement-type building. There’s a few doors around you, but none of them look like a main door that would lead outside. From what you can discern, there’s not much security around here, with the main bodyguards being the ones that guard the room you were just in.

You land ungracefully on your feet, the people carrying you obviously not coordinated with lowering you to the ground. Michael stands in front of you, cheeks red and hair mussed, and takes your hand in his. Loud cheers bubble up from the crowd as you’ve reached what you’re assuming is the final destination. Michael pulls you through an open doorway, Anton smirking and closing the door behind you. The music and yelling is muffled now, the group of revelers getting farther away from the sounds of it. It’s just you and Michael now, which honestly terrifies you more than all of the previous events.

If this was a normal day, you’d appreciate the sudden silence and lack of people. But it’s not a normal day, and you almost find yourself wishing the ‘believers’ were still here. Michael, who’s exuded confidence since the moment you woke up, suddenly looks nervous as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. He lets go of your hand, and you immediately wrap your arms around yourself as a pseudo-shield.

“How are you feeling? Can I get you a drink?” Your throat burns, but you don’t want to be drugged again.

“Water?” Your voice comes out as a whisper, and you’re mildly surprised Michael could hear you. Michael makes quick work at fulfilling your request, handing you a heavy glass with water. Although you’re nowhere near an expert when it comes to detecting foreign substances in drinks, you still sniff your drink to make sure.

“It’s just plain water, I promise. I would never drug you; that was my Ms. Mead’s doing.” You nod, finally taking a small sip of the water that’s followed by a much larger gulp. You drain the water quickly, Michael looking on as he takes dignified sips of his own drink. “Would you like some more?” You shake your head, so he places both empty glasses on the dresser.

“What...what are you gonna do to me?” Michael smiles softly in what you think is an attempt to reassure you.

“Well, after the wedding comes the traditional bedding ceremony. My father would prefer I make an heir sooner rather than later, but I’m in no hurry.” He shrugs, explaining this like he would explain how to get to the nearest gas station. Your body tenses when you realize what he means by ‘bedding ceremony.’

You want to knock him out, wrench open the door and run for freedom. The headlines flash through your head, all about how ‘girl escapes local cult’ and ‘Satanic church kidnaps woman to be unwilling bride!’ In this happy ending, everybody would go to jail and you’d have a fun story to tell people from now on. Instead, you know that you’re stuck. You’ve seen his powers, how he forced you to cut his hand just by looking you in the eyes. If, by some miracle, you did manage to get past Michael, there’s no guarantee the hordes of Satanists wouldn’t snatch you the second you open the door. You want--no, need--to survive, and you’ll do anything to get out of here.

As he approaches you, your limbs lock in fear. He gently pulls the zipper down your dress, and you allow it to slip down your arms and pool around your ankles. You clench your eyes shut, since there’s no way you can look this man in the eye. You’re left shivering in just the slip that you were wearing when you woke up.

“So beautiful.” He mutters, picking up the pendant hanging around your neck.

“Just get it over with, please.” You stutter, flinching away from him. You’re not sure why it’s him calling you ‘beautiful’ that has you wanting to throw up everywhere, but it gets you to finally speak up. Michael reacts entirely differently than you thought; instead of throwing you on the bed and having his way with you, his hands leave your body entirely as you hear his breathing pick up. When you finally open your eyes, you see him standing with his hands held in the air and his eyes opened wide.

“You...you don’t want this?” You’re feeling bold, apparently, as you bark out an incredulous laugh.

“What part of today made you believe that I would actually enjoy this? Certainly it wasn’t the kidnapping part of it all. Could it be the forced marriage? Or maybe you using magic in order to get me to cut your hand open? That was quite the turn on, let me tell you, nothing like being stripped of your free will.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm as you glare at him. When he reaches for you, you jump back. “Don’t touch me!”

“No, hey, I wasn’t going to do anything bad. You’re shaking, I just wanted to help you out.”

“Oh, now you wanna help?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Michael ignores the barb, instead grabbing a blanket from the bed and wrapping you in it. You begrudgingly take it from him, holding it around your shoulders. Michael’s biting his lip as he looks at you, pity in his eyes.

“Do you...want to take a shower?”

“No funny business?” You ask.

“You have my word. Let me find you some clothes, okay?” You watch closely as he rummages through the dressers, eventually coming up with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He hands them to you, taking care to not touch you. “Take your time. There’s a lock on the inside of the door, if that’ll make you feel better.” You spare him one last glance before closing the bathroom door, fumbling with the lock as quickly as you can.

You remain in the shower for a long time after the water grows cold. After furiously scrubbing every part of you that had been touched by Michael or one of the Satanists, you just stood and let the water fall over you as you thought. Eventually, your thoughts start to spiral, and you find yourself sitting on the cold tile floor, your tears mixing with the shower itself. You only get up when your fingers are considerably pruned up and your legs are numb. There’s a towel hanging on the rack outside of the shower door, and you grab one and wrap it around yourself.

Water droplets fall off of your dripping hair, making you hurry to get changed into the clothes Michael gave you so you can towel off your hair. The sweatpants sag off of your hips, but the shirt is large enough that it falls down to mid-thigh. You realize with mild disgust that these are Michael’s clothes, but there’s really nothing that you can do about it. While you dry your hair, you search for a brush or a comb. Coming up empty, you have no choice but to hang the towel back up and let your tangled hair dry all the way.

Michael looks up when you open the door. He’s also changed his clothes, switching out the cloak and tailored suit for his own pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looks utterly dressed down, and a lot like the boy you used to know. There’s no alternate place to sit besides the bed, so you choose to lean against the wall facing Michael.

“Do you need something to brush out your hair?” He asks, waiting until you nod to stand. He disappears into the bathroom, coming out moments later with a brush in hand. “Let me know if this makes you uncomfortable, but can I...brush your hair for you?” You visibly cringe at this, giving him his answer.

“Uh, probably not?” You awkwardly hold your hand out for the brush, but he withholds it.

“Will you at least sit down? I just want you to be comfortable.” You hold back the rolling of the eyes. If he really wanted you to be comfortable, he would help you leave right now and turn himself in to the cops.

“Don’t touch me.” You say sharply, waiting for confirmation before you move.

“I promise you, (Y/N).” Luckily the bed’s king-sized, so you have a few feet in between. “Do you have any questions? I imagine today’s been a lot for you to take in.” He asks, leaning back against the pillows while you start to work on the knots in your hair.

“Why me?”

“I already told you this. We’re meant to be together, we’re made for each other. I know that sounds crazy to you, but it’s not. Satan made us to be each other’s soulmates.”

“You’re fucking delusional.” You spit, grimacing when you hit a particularly gnarly tangle.

“I’m not! You were chosen for a reason, we wouldn’t have crossed paths so many times like we did.” Your nostrils flare, but you move on to the next question.

“Fine then, why were you so confused that I wasn’t...looking forward to your twisted ‘bedding ceremony?’” Michael runs a hand through his hair before sighing.

“Our vows were also supposed to be a bonding ritual. It was a way to make the transition to my wife easier for you, bring out the feelings that lie within your soul. I wasn’t aware that it didn’t work on you, or else I would have never even tried that. I may be the Antichrist, (Y/N), but I’m still a gentleman.”

“When can I go home?” You fire your final question at the man, who stands up and crosses to a drink cart you weren’t aware was there.

“You do, of course, have free will. You’ll wake up tomorrow and walk right out the front door, and the secretary will tell you to have a nice day. You’ll go back to school, work, resume your relationships with your friends and family. But rest assured, if you try to go to the police about this, or tell anyone what happened, there will be dire consequences.”

“I’d like to see you try!” You snort. Michael’s demeanor shifts once again, going from relaxed to calculating as he chuckles deeply.

“The Cooperative, those people you saw out there? We’re the largest organization out there. Basically the Illuminati, if that helps you. We have members everywhere; politics, business, sports, law enforcement.” He hints, letting you know that the police will do nothing without actually saying it. “And, your parents? Is your mom still enjoying her job at (Y/M/J)? Or how about your dad, has he gotten that promotion yet?” He smirks as your eyes widen.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You hiss.

“Oh, but I would, and I think you know that.” You’re kidding yourself if you don’t think he would harm your loved ones, the man literally had you kidnapped in a well-lit parking lot. He’ll stop at nothing to accomplish his own fucked up goals.

“So, what happens now?” You finally say, Michael smirking triumphantly.

“I already told you.”

“I know that, but as your…” Your lip curls into a sneer. “‘Wife,’ what would change in my life?”

“You’d be expected to stand by my side at various Cooperative meetings, as well as helping with some executive decisions. In addition to this, you’ll spend the weekends with me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way. I said you could go back to your normal life, I didn’t say that there wouldn’t be stipulations to that. The alternative to this is always being by my side no matter what, if you’d prefer that?”

You breathe deeply, trying to make sure that you don’t go ballistic in this moment and do something that you’ll end up regretting.

“And if I do this, you’ll stay away from my family and friends?” He holds his hands up, which you think is supposed to be comforting but it’s actually more mocking than anything.

“You have my word.”

“Alright, then.” His smile only widens, his teeth looking particularly sharp in the lighting.

“Fantastic. I’ll leave you to get some rest and I look forward to seeing you next weekend.” He walks out the door with a skip in his step, and you chuck the hairbrush at the wall the second the door closes. What the hell did you get yourself into?

Tag List: @sammythankyou @let-me-try-mom @ultragibbycentralworld @sebastianshoe @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @dolceandchalamet @omgsuperstarg @queenie435 @dextergirl12345 @americanhorrorstudies @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26

[ificouldflytotheclouds]

Ranking 5 Seconds of Summer by Album - Sounds Good Feels Good (Deluxe Edition)

Long story short, when this album first came out I was pressured by my friend not to listen or buy it. I download the 'She's Kinda Hot Extended Play.' Besides SKH I really enjoyed the songs.  At one point or another, I tried to listen to the album but could not get past the first three songs; If only I had known the shell was hiding a gem. 

Present day: I keep thinking that the content of the album would've been good for me, but maybe not. Around the time the album came out I was emerging from my state of being depressed. I was trying to figure out my own life again and One Direction's last album was distracting enough.

 I listened to the album in its entirety and fell in love with Sounds Good Feels Good this year. While I was late on the game, I believe this album knocked on my door at a time I was welcome to let it in and hear what it had to say.  I started listening to SGFG in February. I remember being more excited to go to the gym because I could zone out and listen to this beautiful masterpiece.  I can't pinpoint the date I started listening to the album, but I believe it was before Want You Back came out because it helped me see that they were coming out with a new song. But I could also be mixing that up, but I do remember seeing promo for the song and merch before the song dropped. Anyways onto my review (tl;dr: I haven't had as much time with the majority of these songs compared to other fans so the songs ranking and meaning may still shift but honestly that is the case for any album there are songs you can’t relate to at one time but may years down the line).

I love this album, deciding on an order will be difficult, and for that reason, I will be listening to this album on shuffle.

Hey Everybody!

This is one of the first three songs that I just was not impressed with upon first listen. Now I have heard it enough, I jam to this song, not my fav, but I’m not mad at it. 

If you are not listening, this song sounds like money, and I may or may not confuse it with money because they talk a lot about money lol. 

I can really relate to this song at the moment because I just graduated college. It is important to me that I pay off my loans as soon as possible and for that reason, I am taking a gap year before I go to do my masters to help reduce the financial burden. The issue is I currently do not have a job. I did a temp job the week after graduation, so I’ve only had one week not working, which I am actually very grateful to have gotten the opportunity to do because there are not many times in one's life where they are able to do so. Worse comes to worse I’ll go back to my old job but I want to look for other things first. One of the reasons I didn’t go back to my old job is because I wasn’t feeling fulfilled, I have been with this organization for 5 years, and I think I need to change it up. At the same time I know sometimes a job just needs to be a job. While I am hoping to earn money before I go back to school I am also making sure to focus on me and letting myself live. I am so excited for the 5sos concert this fall, I have a Harry concert in less than a month, and I am traveling to Chicago with my friend to see Niall on the 3 year anniversary of seeing 1d in concert for the first time. Additionally, I am hoping to go vegan and spend my free time doing things that I love such as singing, writing, doing yoga… things that I didn’t give myself enough time to do during college. 

Ranking: 1 of 1

Permanent Vacation

Sonically I am so in love with this album. WOw. This song has so many meanings (not that this post was supposed to be me analyzing the lyrics). This is 5sos. They didn’t go the typical route and now they’re on a permanent vacation. I can relate to the prechorus when you just don’t have any motivation for anything and it gets really frustrating, I can relate this to bad mental health days (in which I literally went on a vacation to 2 other countries  and I came back and I remember being so happy and content in my daily living, a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time) but also I’ve jammed to this while doing homework, I was so over it. They have us in the system, go to school, go to some more, get a job cubical job, it’s a cycle, but I don’t want that to be my life. I want it to be something more. And I feel like that’s what the songs about. 

Ranking: 1 of 2 over Hey Everybody!

Fly Away

I always forget how hard this song goes because the chorus is softer than the verse. Just based on these three songs you can tell how the album ties away, going away from the normal, living your life to it’s fullest and not wasting your time mulling over things you don’t find fulfilling. This is a reminder that you can create your own future. It’s all up to you. 

When I think of SGFG this song doesn’t stick out to me. I think money and hey everybody makes a bigger punch. With that said...

Ranking: 2 of 3 over Hey Everybody!

Airplanes

Michael Michael. He is so underappreciated. I love all of their voices and I hope Ash gets more solos/parts in Youngblood. I feel like people don’t talk about Michael’s singing enough. Have you listened to live performances when he killed the harmonies? Focusing on when he leads: I  think his voice is sooo important to bringing together 5sos’ sound especially when it comes to new broken scene. This song is so adorable, someone coming into your life and suddenly your life has meaning. They way that they describe their life, suddenly bursting to colors. But it’s not that straightforward, the individual isn’t getting better for the new person in their life, this person brings the light, the purpose of the individual doing things for themselves.

The second verse kills me emotionally because this is many of us when we struggle with xyz, our ego gets in the way, we think we can deal with it ourselves, but at one point or another, we recognize that it is larger than ourselves and we think we should’ve sought help. But the thing is, it’s never too late to get help. Even when you’ve found someone who brings neon lights to your life, getting a little extra help from someone never hurt anybody.

Lyrically I like this song better than permanent vacation but permanent vacation is such a bop.

Ranking:  2 of 4 over Fly Away

Broken Home

This song is. So. Good. It’s heartbreaking. While I am adopted and have had some rough times at home I can’t say I can relate to the chorus. This song makes me cry none the less and I can’t imagine how much this song must mean to those who have or are currently dealing with divorce or something similar.  My heart breaks for you, my heart breaks for your family. While a dream may be lost hopefully the individuals who once made a couple can find their own happiness and be treated the way that they deserve (not saying that one person is intentionally hurting another, but even neglect, intentional or not isn’t giving the other partner what they may need). Sending you all the love. 

Ranking: 1 of 5 over Permanent Vacation

Invisible 

This song is so pretty and it’s a song totally up my alley. But when it comes to ranking I know it’s going to be towards the bottom. It’s not a standout song, sonically or lyrically. For me personally, I think that this has to do with life stages, it’s not to say that I don’t have times that I feel invisible at 22, but I think this relates to my time in middle school and high school where was forming my identity. It’s funny going through time and going through friends because sometimes you feel like you aren’t understood, you blend into the background. When you find your people when you truly find your people you burst into light similar to airplanes. That’s not to say that with amazing people surrounding you that you don’t feel invisible, misunderstood....

I don’t know. I find this song difficult to relate to when I don’t currently feel this way. And the times of feeling invisible don’t stand out, in my life as much as it may for other, such that my state of being depressed was persistent for around 2 years. (This song can easily relate to depression/states of being depressed, but I don’t personally feel the connection)

I don’t question that this and the last song are things that 5sos has dealt with but these are also songs that are specifically dedicated to the fans.

Ranking: 5 of 6 over Hey Everybody!

Jet Black Heart

This is 5sos’ anthem. This. Song. Is. Everything. While the last song I couldn’t relate to my own state of being depressed (I say this rather than depression because I was not clinically diagnosed but it was the emotional state of being depressed). There are no words. I want to scream these words on a rooftop for everyone to hear. This song is so vulnerable, which they do an excellent job of conveying in the music video, and just them as artists. We don’t need to know their life stories, but they have given us a glimpse at some of the most difficult things that they have had to deal with in their life. 

‘As we burst into color, returning to life’ recently is one of my favorite line because I can relate it from going to dark days to living in a consistent state of grey to having a period in my life where I found AMAZING people and I was So. So. SO. happy every single day. 

Ranking: 1 of 7 over Broken Home

San Francisco

Aka the cutest song ever. This is happiness in a song. It is a sand out because it’s lightness and emotional state. “We don’t gotta say anything, don’t say anything at all” sums up the song. It’s about those magical moments that you don’t want to end and you want to last forever.

This is when the ranking is going to get difficult bc broken home was my number one at one point, it no longer is, but that just shows how amazing this album is.

Ranking: 2 of 8 over Broken Home

Waste the Night

I have less and less to say about my favs because I have no words. Also because this song doesn’t have too many lyrics, it’s fairly straightforward, it’s the music that tells the story in this song.

This is one of those songs that makes you so emo in concert because youre standing there living your best life feeling love all around you. (Also when I went to the concert I should’ve been writing in a paper due the next day, ended up turning it a day late. I think it would’ve been crap even if I didn’t go to the concert bc I would've been distracted by the fact that it was going on, it’s not till the next day did inspiration and motivation hit me. I got lucky got a very small reduction and an A in the class) 

Ranking: 1 of 9 over Jet Black Heart

Money

So this is the song I had to jump over to properly enjoy this album but this is a BOP. I was so turned off on my first listen it took a while to appreciate the song. Hey Everybody! makes me think of Money but whenever I listen to money it stands out on its own. It another one of those lets fall in love and run away from this town songs. It’s surprisingly cute. 

Ranking: 7 of 10 over fly away (this might win over airplanes but I’m going to let it fly)

Outerspace/Carry On

I can’t separate this beauty. 

ugh. The feels. They hit hard. This is...a masterpiece and will be on the top of 5sos accolades. “Nothing like the rain when youre in outerspace.” I have no words. And then Carry On ending the album I want to cry. It’s like life can beat you up, you’ll go all over the place, but all you need to know is it’ll get better. 

I feel like this song transcends everything else on the album, but at the same time it’s not my #1 you feel? 

ugh now I’m questioning all of my rankings should jet black heart go bf san fran and outer space after jet black heart?? I think I am going to go with

Ranking: 2 of 11 over San Fransisco.

Catch Fire 

A certified BOP. This makes me think of the line in JBH (but from a bright and beautiful viewpoint). I love when an artist makes references to their others songs within songs. The big thing while listening to Catch Fire is, will it rank above or below castaway bc those are both WOWWOW.

Ranking 6 of 12 over Permanent Vacation

Castaway

This song goes hard it’s so goood. But I’m feeling 

right now. So catch fire wins over castaway. Ugh this is the point where the ranking gets hard.

Ranking: 7 of 13 over Permanent Vacation

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

This and saftey pin are second tier songs to me. Like you have top songs that you will die over, second tier is your good, your amazing, but I wouldn’tdie over you. It could be because I’ve been with these two songs longer than other songs on the album. For both songs, the chorus is the best. This is a good song to cry to in the rain (it’s an experience) while walking down an empty street. 

Ranking: 8 of 14 over Permanent Vacation

She’s Kinda Hot

I was not a huge fan of this song when it first came out, I viewed it as a bit sexist and just ehh. Over time I realized I was missing the point. Especially by the end of the song, it feels like a different song. There is a reason why they chose this song as their lead single, they were introducing the new broken scene. The title is a bit misleading but I also think that brings a different intrigue to the song. The message of the song empowering...

Ranking: 8 of 15 over The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Saftey Pin

The bridge of this song is everything. I don’t have much to say about the song. It’s solid. This is another one of those songs where you are like this. this. is a 5sos song. Michael said the new album would still have the feeling of running away and being free in the new album and I am excited to hear it on Friday. 

Ranking: 8 of 16 over She’s Kinda Hot 

Vapor

When we end with the best song. I could see some people seeing this song as nothing special as it is a song that is repeative. Also I do not promote vaping. Don’t do drugs boys and girls. This song is just so pretty and the repeative nature of the song feeds into the softness of the song. Contrasted with the more agressive singing in the chorus, showing how much this individual means to them. Or at least how they dream it to be. I feel like it’s a good compliment to Lie to Me. Vapor = falling for the girl before they’re together, even though she’s not into him.  Lie to Me =  Heart Break over a girl who destroyed him and he cant get her out of his body.

Ranking: 1 of 17 over Waste the Night

Sounds Good Feels Good Ranking 

Vapor 

Waste the Night

 Outerspace/Carry On

 San Fransico

Jet Black Heart

Broken Home

 Catch Fire

Castaway 

Saftey Pin 

She’s Kinda Hot

Girl Who Cried Wolf

Permanent Vacation

Airplanes

Money

Fly Away

Invisible

Hey Everybody

Album Review/Ranking Masterlist