#I feel like a broken record but again it's just... me being sad about not being out irl ugh

[nativegirltapes]

motel — rafe cameron

summary: reader and rafe being on one of their ‘breaks’ so reader comes and visits rafe at a motel he’s been staying at after being kicked out. but she doesn’t get the comfort from rafe she thought she would.

pairing: toxic!rafe x reader

notes/warnings: purely angst! idk what got in to me while writing this but i think i got too into it …. reader is like super dependent on rafe it’s just sad atp!!!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

it was unfortunate but no one was able to comfort you the way your boyfriend did, even after hurting your feelings.

tears fell down your face as you knocked on the door numbered '56', the door of the motel you drove to hundreds of miles away, just to see him.

when the door swung open there he was; greasy hair sticking to his forehead, shirtless, with his grey sweats hanging dangerously low. you ran into him arms like you hadn't seen him years, although that's how it felt.

rafe's hand caressed the back of your head while you embraced your arms around him. your hair was messy but still soft, it was always so soft, it was one of his favorite things about you. you were literally a sobbing disaster in front of him but you're hair was still soft and smelled of strawberries and grapefruit. rafe thought out loud it might sound silly, but it was almost like it was some weird sort of symbolism, that despite everything that rafe had put out through, you were still perfect. you were still his soft, perfect angel.

"i hate you," you choked out. you 'hated' him, but there you were hugging him, all at his disposal.

"i know." rafe replied, resting his head on yours. rafe felt bad, which is exactly why he broke up with you in the first place. although, a normal functioning person wouldn't call what you two had a 'breakup'; coming to visit him at a motel because he was kicked out of his own house didn't exactly scream 'broken up' to anyone.

rafe knew you didn't hate him, maybe it was just that you loved him so much that you lost yourself in the journey.

when you were with him, it seemed like all you had was him, like you didn't know how to live or function without him. and rafe hated that, because that's exactly how he felt for you. there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you, no boundary he wouldn't cross for you; except for being the one responsible for ruining you.

"you shouldn't be here." rafe groaned, you pulled away from the hug, every ounce of his warmness leaving your body.

"why?" you wiped your tears with rafe's hoodie that you were wearing, it basically swallowed you whole with how big it was.

"it’s not good for you.” rafe’s eyes looked down at you, you didn’t realize how tired and sad he looked too.

“you’re good for me, rafe.” you placed a hand on his chest, but he stepped away.

“i’m not y/n.”

“you can’t tell me what’s good for me rafe.” you followed him as he stepped back. your eyes felt so puffy, like they’d just swell shut if you cried anymore.

“i’m not good for you,” rafe sighed. “i mean do you see your fuckin’ self?” rafe threw his hand towards you. “you’re here cryin’ in a motel you drove hundreds of miles away to get to just because i’m tryin’ to fucking help you.”

“if you want to help me, just love me.” you didn’t have it in you to yell back. your soft but croaky voice played like a record in rafe’s head; reminding him that you’re just his soft, perfect angel. no, he definitely didn’t deserve you, but he didn’t have in it him to just never talk to you again, which just lead you both here; in this moment right now, wondering what went wrong between the two of you. things used to be so good. what happened?

“i’m tryin’ to love you.” rafe rubbed his forehead, he didn’t want to say it, but he knew he had to. “you won’t let me.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, you weren’t letting him? you were standing in front of him, quite literally begging him to love you; and you weren’t ‘letting him’?

you weren’t saying anything so rafe took it as an opportunity, “we just,” he ran his fingers through his hair, kind of pacing around the room now. “we just need to be apart for a while. kay?”

exhausted from crying all the way here and all the crying you just did, all you could do was agree. “okay.” you sighed, a tear falling down your cheek.

this couldn’t be the end of you and rafe, he loved you. right?

[jisatsuwaifu]

Life is incredibly frustrating, stressful, and exhausting. Everyday I think “it’s okay, it’ll get better, try again tomorrow” but it just keeps proving me wrong. When I think things are getting better and I can finally relax, something else comes along and puts me right back into panic mode. It’s always something, there’s never a break. I never feel safe. All I do is complain about how sad or frustrated I am and I’m sure everyone around me is sick of hearing it. Which is fine, I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by misery when my life is good either or listen to a broken record when there’s much better music to be heard. I am my own responsibility, I shouldn’t rely on others.

My thoughts consume me. Not in a cutesy I’m just a girl cringe kind of way but in a “I need to go to sleep as soon as possible to prevent an accident” because I cannot trust my own head to comfort me but to only make scenarios worse or feed into my paranoia. I am not built to be left alone. I constantly feel like I’m too much and not enough. I’ve never felt more loved but also so alone in all my life. Everything is black and white there is no grey areas with my mind.

I just don’t think anyone knows or understands how thin I’m being stretched and how badly I’d just love for everything to stop and to be able to catch my breath. Just for a day. I’ve cried for help but I don’t think the one person I need help from genuinely hears me. I dont trust many people to begin with. There’s only so much a single person can take before it starts to cripple them. And I know I can be over dramatic and too emotional at times but this genuinely feels like the end, I can’t see past this point in my life. And the sad part is I do not know how I got here. Or this far to begin with. But I am so tired. It’s times like these I wish I had my mom back or even just a family to lean on and seek advice from, but I can’t even entertain my own sister long enough to talk on the phone with me. I don’t understand why I exist or what my purpose is if all I’ve ever been exposed to is pain and abandonment. There’s some aspects of my life that I know I serve a purpose for and want to make proud, I’m trying my hardest for that one thing. I just don’t want to cause anymore damage than I already have. I can’t be like my mother.

I just needed somewhere to vent, some outlet. It won’t change anything. I feel hopeless and empty again. I might just delete everything. I don’t know.

The best I can do right now is try again tomorrow.

( if you read all of this thanks for listening to my rant and I’m sorry I wasted your time when you could have been scrolling onto something cooler like tiddies or anime idk but ty anyways <3 )

[dootznbootz]

Big oof guys Odysseus wasn't a cheater he was a victim you soggy feminist retelling enjoying fries. and I don't get them changing that so that "women who have been cheated on by their husbands can relate and know they're valid for being sad" because let's be honest if he was a women y'all would've been treating his situation appropriately. Feminism is about men and women being equal, and do you know how many women (and men) could relate to Odysseus's situation? He wasn't a good person (neither was anyone in Greek myth) but stop making him out to be the bad guy. It's not only insulting to his character, mythology fans but also victims. It can be insulting to male victims for this being erased and treated so lightly. And for female victims who know what that feels like and are (rightfully) disgusted when this sort of behavior gets excused.

And for those of you saying "But he had a choice with Circe!!" Um... not really? He slept with her to save his friends, his brothers. Let's put it this way "Let's say your best friend was being held captive, and the only way to save them would be to sleep with the guy who's holding them hostage. Cheating would imply there was a betrayal of trust between partners, this wasn't done out of maliciousness. This was done to ensure the safety of an innocent person/people who you care about deeply. Any good lover would understand there's a huge lack of choice in a situation like that. Again, if the gender roles were reversed y'all wouldn't have been saying this crap.

If men and women are so equal, a men getting sexually assaulted and used holds just as much weight as a woman. This isn't feminism, this is sexism towards men. And no, it's not justified because "that's what the Greeks did", it's not okay just because you lable it as petty payback/revenge. What happened to be better than your oppressor? As if you were the one's in ancient Greece who had to deal with these things. You are not in a friend group with every woman in history just because you had to deal with "scummy men".

And even if you are a victim, how can you be immature and gross to KNOW what that feels like yet still not care/be ignorant towards one suffering and easily erase it. And just because they were the same gender as people who were asses and creeps towards you or people who happen to be the same gender as you.

Tumblr never fails to disappoint me 😔 I have no doubt in my mind Penelope would beat up all these people victim blaming her husband

"you soggy feminist retelling enjoying fries."

Dear Anon, I love this phrase so much. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Sorry this took a while to get to. <3 I just answered quite a few heavy asks recently and I wanted to give a lil break in general :) You also wrote it all out very well already so I didn't really know how much I have to add or say without sounding like a broken record!

And yeah, like, he's not a good person. Nobody really is, especially by modern standards. But that doesn't mean what happened to him didn't happen. Or that people should diminish it.

I mean, I'm very very sure that Homer even shows Odysseus' PTSD from it all in the Odyssey. How he's so adamant about Nausica's maids NOT helping him bathe, despite that being the custom/culture of the time. Like Idk what other reason he would have to not ask for help, being "older" wasn't something that would've been too outta the norm, he was still exhausted from nearly drowning to death, etc. BUT this is RIGHT after he just escaped Calypso. Gives huge PTSD reaction to me.

ngl, I find it really disappointing in a way that this ancient text feels more respectful of victims and their trauma than more modern books lol. A lot of Modern shit feels like trauma porn ;~;

And you're absolutely right with Penelope. She loves her like-minded fool. She would not blame him. I honestly think she'd be the one to reassure him often because he'd probably feel guilt and/or just...need some comfort from everything.

I really hate the whole "He expected her to be faithful when he was not." Because guess what? He canonically was. He had no concubines officially listed ANYWHERE. People can take vague statements if they want but that's just it. Vague statements. All other "interactions" were against his will and/or it was coercion to save his friends. All under duress regardless.

Like in general, there is so much more potential in writing about about a character trying to help her incredibly traumatized lover. Seeing him as he is still and loving him. Him finally feeling safe again, LEARNING to feel safe again. After finally having clawed his way back into the arms he never wanted to leave in the first place, he can LIVE again. There's something incredibly beautiful in that.

I mean as you said, I find Odysseus very relatable in a lot of ways. His story is really beautiful in the whole "You've been through Hell, You've done some horrible things, but despite all that, you can achieve peace again. You can LIVE again." It's a really hopeful story in a way. And I really love that.

[illaisland]

Hi @catharsisxf ! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, pal (affectionate)! I am not much of a writer (or a visual artist tbh), but I tried to make a few things I thought you'd like based on your secret santa survey answers. My apologies for not being very consistent with the daily well wishes, but I hope these past few weeks have been easier/lighter for you. <3 Gifts for you are under the break...

Gift one:

I made a series of images based on a line from a scene you liked in "The Unnatural" where Mulder is encouraging Scully to forget about her worries and focus on hitting the ball/having fun/enjoying life. I found a manip where they are kissing in that scene and modified it further.

With the quote:

Without any text:

And i also made a terrible picmix version for giggles. The watermark covered the quote cuz I didn't how picmix works. 😅🙃

Gift 2:

I also made you a video based on a Jeff Buckley song, however, Kapwing decided to cockblock me and wouldn't let me download what I created for you. So I had to screen record it. Which means the audio is *TERRIBLE* and the already iffy resolution quality is also not good. So, I apologize again for such a macaroni fridge art ass gift, but I tried, friend. 😬 😓 The video I made:

The song and lyrics that inspired it:

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Jeff Buckley

Looking out the door I see the rain Fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water

Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight you're on my mind So... you'll never know

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight? Child, ya know how much I need it

Too young to hold on And too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like should be having his fun Much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that Really he has no one

So I'll wait for you, love And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh-oh, lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams He had you with him

My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong

Oh-oh-oh, lover You should've come over, yeah, yes Yes, I feel too young to hold on And much too old to break free and run Too deaf, dumb and blind to see the damage I've done Sweet lover, you should've come over

Oh, love, well I've waited for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, love, love, love, love, love, love! Lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

[uhohdad]

just finished rereading TGWCM for the umpteenth time! i absolutely adore all of your fics so please take your time :))

on the topic of TGWCM, if we were to go full on angst in true hunger games fashion (please don’t i beg you plsplsplspls), imagine if recordings of reader and konig’s AHEM AHEM were illegally distributed/obtained by rich capitol people, thus leading to a lot of people thirsting over konig. poor konig is then subjected to finnick’s fate of being a victor - sold to the highest bidder.

imagine he then finds out the distribution of said recording, one of his only precious memories with reader, being part of the reason of his fate.

(and maybe his only solace is rewatching said recording of the whole game really but especially chapter three over and over in his darkest moments :(()

please don’t be evil and actually do this if you did it i would die BUT ALSO i would gobble it all up anyway so uhh…

-🪼 (if you do emoji anons, could i please have this one if its not taken?)

hi hi hi!!! thank you so much for sending this y’all know all i ever wanna do is talk about TGWCM!! <3 <3

This ask shook me to my core it’s like you kids are in my head euheuheuheu. i love hearing your takes/predictions/thoughts so much!! i absolutely will be touching on the seedy prostitution ring the victors have to deal with in the final chappy. heavy emphasis on ‘the games never actually go away’ in this one

the thought of our victor rewatching the tape because it’s all they have left of the other - ugh you’re breaking my heart. Konig feeling defiled and dirty, a sad, broken smile on his face. Tears in his eyes while some heartless capital bastard snores away in the next room after using him for his body. His thumb stroking reader’s ribbon as he rewatches his time with reader at the oasis, closing his eyes and pretending he’s there with her instead of in his cruel reality. OUCHIE!!!

the aftermath is at 30k words now and I still have so much to get through!! (might have to split this one up eeeep) no spoilers but that recording is definitely going to come back to haunt our victor 😈

thanks again for your ask lovely it’s so nice to hear your thoughts/predictions!!! ily ily ily and i’m so excited to share with you all!! thanks for being so patient with me!! <3 <3 <3

⌜ KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

[iwillnotdieamonster]

"This is a beautiful letter from Fiona Apple explaining to her fans why she must postpone a concert date. I am impressed at the way she was instantly able to make the decision to choose love over her career. Indeed, the world needs more of this.

It's 6pm on Friday, and I'm writing to a few thousand friends I have not met yet. I'm writing to ask them to change our plans and meet a little while later.

Here's the thing.

I have a dog, Janet, and she's been ill for about 2 years now, as a tumor has been idling in her chest, growing ever so slowly. She's almost 14 years old now. I got her when she was 4 months old. I was 21 then — an adult, officially — and she was my kid.

She is a pitbull, and was found in Echo Park, with a rope around her neck, and bites all over her ears and face.

She was the one the dogfighters use to puff up the confidence of the contenders.

She's almost 14 and I've never seen her start a fight, or bite, or even growl, so I can understand why they chose her for that awful role. She's a pacifist.

Janet has been the most consistent relationship of my adult life, and that is just a fact. We've lived in numerous houses, and joined a few makeshift families, but it's always really been just the two of us.

She slept in bed with me, her head on the pillow, and she accepted my hysterical, tearful face into her chest, with her paws around me, every time I was heartbroken, or spirit-broken, or just lost, and as years went by, she let me take the role of her child, as I fell asleep, with her chin resting above my head.

She was under the piano when I wrote songs, barked any time I tried to record anything, and she was in the studio with me, all the time we recorded the last album.

The last time I came back from tour, she was spry as ever, and she's used to me being gone for a few weeks, every 6 or 7 years.

She has Addison's Disease, which makes it more dangerous for her to travel, since she needs regular injections of Cortisol, because she reacts to stress and excitement without the physiological tools which keep most of us from literally panicking to death.

Despite all this, she's effortlessly joyful & playful, and only stopped acting like a puppy about 3 years ago. She is my best friend, and my mother, and my daughter, my benefactor, and she's the one who taught me what love is.

I can't come to South America. Not now. When I got back from the last leg of the US tour, there was a big, big difference.

She doesn't even want to go for walks anymore.

I know that she's not sad about aging or dying. Animals have a survival instinct, but a sense of mortality and vanity, they do not. That's why they are so much more present than people.

But I know she is coming close to the time where she will stop being a dog, and start instead to be part of everything. She'll be in the wind, and in the soil, and the snow, and in me, wherever I go.

I just can't leave her now, please understand. If I go away again, I'm afraid she'll die and I won't have the honor of singing her to sleep, of escorting her out.

Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes just to decide what socks to wear to bed.

But this decision is instant.

These are the choices we make, which define us. I will not be the woman who puts her career ahead of love & friendship.

I am the woman who stays home, baking Tilapia for my dearest, oldest friend. And helps her be comfortable & comforted & safe & important.

Many of us these days, we dread the death of a loved one. It is the ugly truth of Life that keeps us feeling terrified & alone. I wish we could also appreciate the time that lies right beside the end of time. I know that I will feel the most overwhelming knowledge of her, and of her life and of my love for her, in the last moments.

I need to do my damnedest, to be there for that.

Because it will be the most beautiful, the most intense, the most enriching experience of life I've ever known.

When she dies.

So I am staying home, and I am listening to her snore and wheeze, and I am revelling in the swampiest, most awful breath that ever emanated from an angel. And I'm asking for your blessing.

I'll be seeing you.

Love,

Fiona"

Credit goes to the respective owners.

[darkinfinity]

Happy 28! Here are all the fics I read and enjoyed this past month!

☁ Call out my name by lesbidirection (E, 101k)

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

A soulmate AU where two lovers find each other entirly by accident, featuring photoshoots, Gucci suits, too many takeaways, having sex and feeling sad, an alpha who feels lost, and the omega that finds him. It shouldn't be this easy, but it is.

☁ don't be afraid to love (and love again) by @voulezloux (T, 83k)

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.

As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.

Louis is a boy. He knows he is.

or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

☁ Wither & Bloom by @dizzy-pixie17 (E, 65k)

No one knows that legendary Harry Styles is an omega. The record label, the fans, and even his family have no idea, leading to a very isolated and very lonely life for Harry. He knows it's for the best. Otherwise, he'd never have the career he wanted and he contents himself in the knowledge that he's not the only one. But when Harry injures his voice during a performance, his manager hires a new vocal coach to help put him to rights. Cue Louis Tomlinson, the sweetest, sexiest, kindest alpha in the world, stepped right out of Harry's dizziest daydreams. While Louis tries to figure out why there's something so incredibly un-alpha-like about 'Alpha-King of Pop' Harry Styles, Harry is busy trying to control his omega's undeniable urge to throw himself at the object of his infatuation.

Amid an accidental misgendering, getting slick in public, tour bus snuggles with awkward boners, and unprovoked drops, Harry will have to choose whether he wants to keep living a lie for the sake of remaining in the spotlight or if he'll sacrifice everything to be with the man he loves… Assuming Louis ever comes back.

☁ Give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz (E, 41k)

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

☁ Freeway of love (in a pink Cadillac) by @mizzhydes (E, 33k)

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis

☁ this brokenness inside me might start healing by @loveislarryislove (T, 29k)

Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do.

But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for.

☁ Cuddlebug by sun_flowr (Not rated, 19k)

When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

Prompt: a/b/o established relationship where they finally go adopt a child and find a toddler with touch depri/abandonment issues and they build him a nest and comfort him

☁ Stars will align for us by @2tiedships2 (Not rated, 15k)

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis…especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

☁ now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (T, 5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.

This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

☁ Send me your pillow (the one that you dream on) by fairytalefemme (G, 3k)

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

[zot3-flopped]

So i recently listenend to ttpd due to me always listening to all of the people that are at the grammys for this year (i just like checking out people or songs i otherwise wouldn‘t try out)

Here are my thoughts on ttpd:

In one of the songs she calls her fans vipers that called her out for dating matty. And frankly that is a big point i want to touch on. She always talked in interviews that she finds it ok to make sure people know who songs are about cause these men should feel shame. She always makes sure to be obvious so her fans can send hate towards these people. Sometimes she even makes easter eggs to hint at who it is about. Like yes the joke that ts only ever writes about exes is overdone, but she clearly always benefited from it, making this parasocial relationship even deeper. And she does this in a way that i have not seen other artists usually do. Thinking of lana, theweeknd or bruno mars- they write about their exes but you don‘t see them being this obvious and exploiting their relationship.

What i want to say is that while i am a big fan of her songs that have been personal, i don‘t take it lightly that she now suddenly dislikes fans calling her out. Either don‘t allow the fans to come close at all, or accept that you let them in and they now act like your friends who have a say in who you date. She is the victim of the own sphere she made. I don‘t feel sorry for this

I can do it with a broken heart sounds like a midnight made song and with a bit too much ego, which can lead into a place that is iffy because it feels like taylor knows she is too big to not sell well

I also don‘t take lightly that taylor had to mention kim again, which ok fine it has been years but i guess you can still be cut up about it. What i do not let slide is how she uses kim‘s child as a pawn in her play. Bringing children into your beef has always been weird, but bringing the child of your own declared „enemy“ into this to benefit from it, is not of taste. Especially because she knows her fanbase, she knows her fans will dig out said child and send hate. I mean this is like leaving a piece of sugar ourside and then acting like a victim when ants eat it. 

A lot of lyrics or idea of songs do not stick the landing. The lyrics are sometimes like a rambling. Like a person talking to their therapist or their friend. There aren‘t even proper catchy beats behind it. It is like it lacks character and the autonomy that a pop song has to make it memorable and to make it stand out. Like do i go into a ts record thinking it would be groundbreaking? No, ts always played it safe. She never gave me a more ballsy production like lana, lord or billie while also having good lyrics. But i expected at least a core to it, something to remember it by. It is sad because at her height, she can allow herself to be artistically standout ish, she can allow herself to take a step outside of this safe space, takikg an artistic risk, as i have said, because even she knows she is too big to not sell

The writing is crammed and doesn‘t have good hooks or melodies within the lyrics. And i know taylor is capable of delivering on that front usually. Folklore and everymore were lyrically well thought out, you were able to remember the lyrics and melody based only on how she sang the songs. Ttpd suffers under it‘s crammed lyrics and lack of melody even while singing the songs.

Ttpd doesn‘t have the catchy beats 1989 had, nor the buzz red had. Not even the deep cuts from lover can be compared to ttpd because ttpd feels washed out and as i said: 

just like a friend rambling to a friend about how angry she is over one guy making her wait and how he has depression and wouldn‘t commit. And how another guy love bombed her but also couldn‘t commit and she is oh soo angry about this. 

If this is all i can take away from an album with over 30 songs then there is something wrong with it

As i said i usually listen to all of grammy music for several years now, but i have always taken something from it: vocal wise, lyric wise or beat wise

This album sadly didn‘t give me anything and i would be saddened to see it awarded. If all i can take away from a music record is: she was mad as hell

Then what benefit do i get from listening to it? Nothing!!!! 

Ttpd is nothing to me

Ttpd is nothing, it is emptiness but the emptiness isn‘t impressive, isn‘t memorable

Ttpd equals nothing

Very interesting! I don't think for a minute that Poets will get an AOTY award. The reviews all criticised the lack of memorable instrumentation/melodies/production.

[luvistqrzzz]

August slipped away into a moment in time 'cause you were never mine

the summer i loved you — jake x f.reader wc — 3.3K

summary — where August was the month of new beginnings and first loves but mostly, heartbreak.

genre — friends to not lovers, second lead syndrome, angst, fluff, summer au, august inspired

warnings — sad ending, jake is a huge dee eye see kay (🤢🤢), profranity, heartbreak, not proofread

an — um guys haha def dont come at me for the ending 😊😊 but omg this had been in my drafts for a while now n im glad im able to release this in august ✌🏽😈 have fun reading pookies (1 fucking am rn imma die help)

ps — ☆ a visualizer cuz why tf am i extra ?!

August is a weird month. It seemed to rush by you like a dream and yet at the same time it felt like the last period of every Friday, not finishing fast enough. You'd prefer the former.

August reminded you of memories— pretty but mostly ugly ones or maybe when the hurt in your heart ran so deep, even the happy memories turned ugly, didn't they?

It was not a month you enjoyed, you didn't like summers, you didn't like feeling like new beginnings and first love.

August reminded you of it all... It reminded you of Jake.

It was 1st of August when you realized what those weird feelings were.

‘Y/N!’ You opened the door to the sound of your name, only to be met with a tired and almost teary eyed Jake. He looked up at you, mustering a small smile as you stood before him your mouth agape. 

‘A-are you okay?!’ you asked, pulling him into your house.

‘Um. Not… really’, your friend replied, scratching his neck nervously. ‘It’s just… she kinda broke up with me.’

She. he didn’t even need to mention her name and yet you let the word pierce your heart, a little. Kang Eunji. Jake’s girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend. 

It was her, always her. It wasn’t unusual for you to hear that they both had a fight but you never thought they'd break up. ‘What? Are you being for real?!’ You were shocked to say the least. Jake and Eunji were what people deemed to be the “power couple” at school. They wouldn’t break up, or could they?

He nodded and sat on the couch, ‘We were fighting over one of those petty matters again, she was angry why I was so busy. It was about soccer practice of course! And when I kind of lost it, she said we were over.’ His voice caught in his throat before he let out a small sob.

Your heart sank as you patted his back and pulled him close into an embrace, ‘Ssh, it’s okay’, you ran small circles on his, ignoring the butterflies set free in your stomach at the close contact. 

You could never understand what went on in their relationship. This may have been the first time they broke up but it surely wasn’t the first time Jake came to your house on the verge of tears.

You hated seeing him this way, like a broken record. 

‘What will I do now, Y/N?’ ‘You just broke up, it’s not the end of the world. Plus, you have the entire summer before you, right? We’ll figure a way out,’ You broke the hug, looking straight into his eyes, trying to reassure him.

But they all meant nothing. Getting reassured of a broken heart didn’t mend the damage, you knew better than him. Jake nodded nonetheless, wiping away the stray tears, ‘Goodness, I feel so dumb for just crying like this.’ ‘don’t be. You are allowed to feel your emotions.’

He gave a small smile in your direction and your heart skipped a beat.

‘So’, you turned towards the television, searching for a distraction. ‘You wanna binge watch something? Or maybe some Doraemon?’

Jake grinned, ‘I’d love that! What would I do without you, Y/N?’

You let out an almost sad chuckle, ‘I am the coolest best friend ain’t I?’ The word best friend left a bad taste in your mouth.

4th August was when Jake realized the bookstore was his safe place.

Clink! The door to the bookstore opened with a small chime. You looked up from your position at the counter only to find Jake walk into the shop. 

He smiled before taking a seat beside you, much to your surprise. It wasn't unusual for him to drop by the store. But mostly he came for borrowing a book or having a quick chat with you. 

But never like this.

'So, how are you doing?' You asked, turning towards where he sat, fidgeting with a pen. It was a slow lazy afternoon with barely any customers.

'Oh, uh, I'm fine. At least I'm trying to be. We had so many things planned and like, it feels weird. We were good for each other…' he kept on rambling about his latest break up.

You could feel your heart clench a litte. You understood why Jake was doing so but it didn't help. It didn't help that there were two broken hearts in the same room. It was always you and the second lead syndrome against the world.

Sometimes you really wondered what you had done to be stuck in the loophole of falling for a friend.

You had been friends with Jake since middle school, always finding yourself blush whenever he was around. 

The first time you tried confessing to him during Valentine's Day in freshman year, your hand baked cake (which you had prepared for hours) got destroyed. You kind of gave up on him, treating him as a friend.

Well, that was until Eunji came along last year. Seeing Jake with her brought about a fresh wave of emotions you think your heart had forgotten.

It hadn't. 

The bookstore was Jake's hideaway from the world. He loved everything about it. Loved how calming it was and the people who came in always greeted him with a smile. He was a quaint place, maybe mysterious in a sense that Jake didn't want to uncover the secrets it hid.

He liked how you let him sit there for the entirety of your shift. But mostly he loved the conversations.

Throughout the summer, Jake couldn't remember the number of times he found you sitting with him, flipping through some book as you both chatted away, be it in the lazy afternoon or under the evening sky, where the buzz of the grasshopper was the only thing he could hear. They felt weirdly intimate, like the secrets he used to keep as a kid. He almost wanted to gatekeep them. 

'Sorry do I bore you here?' You asked one day. It was a question bothering you for a while.

Jake frowned, 'What? No. Of course not, Y/N. You could never bore me.' But you were unconvinced, 'No, like, who spends their summer sitting in a small little barely functioning bookstore except maybe be. You must have a lot of plans, right?'

'I wouldn't lie. I haven't ever spent such a quiet summer but turns out, I like a lot. Too much for my own sake. The bookstore isn't boring. Rather, it gives me a sense of escape from reality.' He gave you a reassuring smile.

'Also', Jake added as a second thought. 'You aren't boring Y/N. You just make it all loads better.'

Your phone went off with a sharp ring. Your alarm wasn’t set to ring today. Who could it be? You groaned as you sleepily grabbed it from the nightstand. Without even checking the name, you picked up the call, ‘Hello? Who?’ ‘It’s me Jake, you dummy!’ His excited voice came from the other side.

You yawned, ‘What do you want?’ you checked the time, ‘It’s literal fucking half past four.’ ‘More reason to wake up, right?!’

‘Shut up, I’m hanging up and-’ ‘No no! I really did plan a surprise. Get ready, please, just for today. Please’, he begged from the other side.

Now, you were definitely wide awake, upon hearing his voice. He had planned what…? ‘Okay but the surprise better be good.’ ‘Also! Keep your bicycle ready.’

‘There you are!’ Jake greeted you with a wide smile as you grumbled and walked down the road with your bike where he stood. ‘You don’t get to smile like that after pulling me up from sleep’, you muttered angrily.

But really who were you to complain? It was Jake and you couldn’t deny the fact that you were genuinely excited for what was coming. It was always an adventure when it came to him.

‘You won’t be disappointed, trust me’, he said, boarding his bike and motioning for you to do the same. 

You breathed out a calming sigh, looking ahead at the empty road. Thanks to summer, the sun was already somewhere there on the horizon, spreading a fuzzy glow around you. Everything looked simpler, softer. In the light of the dawn, your thoughts felt less complicated, you almost felt it would be easy to sort out your feelings. Would it?

You turned to look at Jake, cycling in peace, a small grin on his face, ‘Told you! I sometimes go out on early morning rides, especially if I have a lot on my mind.’

‘So, why are you taking me then?’ ‘I don’t know. I just have a feeling you’ll like this place’, he shrugged. ‘Plus, I like spending time with you’, Jake added as an afterthought.’

A blush crept into your cheeks at his words. Stop over thinking you scolded yourself. But you couldn’t help the hope blossom in you. False hope. 

‘Here we are’, Jake spread his arms wide, showing you the view. After half an hour of cycling through empty streets and quiet places, you found yourself on a small hill. It was pretty abandoned, the only sounds that reached your ears were the chirping of birds and the whistling of trees in the cool summer morning.

In front of you lay your town and the forests beyond it. Those familiar buildings looked all new when you saw them from top of a hill. It radiated calmth… and comfort.

Or was the latter because of the person beside you? 

‘Thanks’, you spoke in a soft whisper but then you felt a hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your heart stopped as you turned towards Jake looking at you with a fond smile and slowly pulled you closer, resting his head on your shoulder. 

You couldn't process what he was doing. Was it all intentional? No, it was the usual playful Jake you knew, right? But the usual playful Jake wasn't like this. He had pulled you into a hug several times but never like this.

Never so tender in his actions that it made you think otherwise.

'I like the view so much. I hope you do too. It's just… very special, I had never shown it to Eunji either. People ruin things', he sighed, looking ahead. 

You scoffed as an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, 'So, I'm not a person?' 'No, you're Y/N. It's an entire special thing to be in itself.'

You didn't know what it meant anymore. The secret smiles, the small actions. You weren't oblivious, you saw it all but your face masked it behind the friendship.

But was it even friendship? You hoped it wasn't. You hoped you both had crossed the line of being "just friends".

It was the 20th of August when Jake liked mint chocolate ice cream. 

He touched his cheek as a familiar warmth flooded in at the sight of you. What was happening to him? Ever since the day on the hill, he had been feeling weird. Be it when he visited the bookstore or when you both hung out during the day (or night).

The way your laugh sounded in his ears, when you smiled, he noticed the way his heart skipped a beat. But he loved the most when through the afternoons you talked. Just talk, nothing and everything.

Jake had never felt so connected to anyone. You both had always been friends but seeing a friends standing before him, two ice creams in hand shouldn't make Jake blush.

But it did.

'Hey Mr.Zoned out!' You snapped your fingers before him, pulling him away from his thoughts. You handed him his ice cream while joining him on the curb. 

He made a disgusted face at the cone you were holding, 'Ugh. Mint chocolate.' You slapped his shoulder playfully, 'Yah! You are a person with zero taste.' 

'Oh really? Lemme try it then', Jake replied, challenging you. He scooped a bit with the plastic spoon before closing his eyes and tasting it. 

'Ew', he gagged. 'This tastes like fucking toothpaste', he wiped his mouth in disgust.

'Shut up, no need to be so over dramatic about it all', you chuckled and rolled your eyes. 

Jake looked at you as you continued eating and looking at the street in front. It was almost 5 in the evening, the kids were out playing but their shouts were only distant noise because all he could hear was your voice. All he could see was you. You weren't bright like the background but in his eyes, you were glowing. The sun falling on your face, as if highlighting only you in his eyes.

Almost as if on instinct, his hand slowly reached out to your free one, his fingers finding yours and intertwining them together.

You stopped, your heart beating way too fast, you could almost feel the redness of your cheeks.

What was happening? What was Jake doing? Why was he doing this? 

It felt wrong, you knew it. Your intuition could tell it. This was something you had waited forever to happen, but you knew this couldn't be.

Let go of his hand, Y/N. Let go let go let go let go… don't let go.

You didn't, too foolish and in love to walk away. And maybe that was the first mistake you had made.

The first rain of August came on the 25th.

Why was rain often associated with sadness? No, rain didn't mean sadness.

Because on that one day of August, you stood outside the bookstore looking at the dark clouds, the rain gave you hope.

You sighed, no wonder your mother kept on insisting you to take an umbrella. Now, there you were, standing in front of the closed shop.

But a bright yellow thing caught your eye, standing out in the dull gray background. You squinted your eyes as the figure came closer.

Jake.

Your stomach jumped. Had he come for you? 

He ran through the rain, his bright smile evident as you stared at him in wonder.

'What?' He asked. You shook your head, 'You…?' 'I came for you. You always forget your umbrella.' He completed the sentence for you.

Your mouth formed an "O" but a soft smile spread across your lips. 

'Here', he handed you the spare umbrella in hand and took hold of your wrist, pulling you into the rain.

You shrieked, 'At least let me open mine first.' He laughed at your sight, moving closer and holding his umbrella over you.

You noticed every single thing, the things you had noticed a hundred times before. But mostly you noticed his little actions.

The ones that made you fall for him all over again.

'Fuck, if I catch a cold, it'll be your fault, Sim Jake', you threatened the boy standing in front of your porch, grinning. You both had recklessly ran in the rain as a result the umbrellas had been pretty useless… but it was fun.

'Don't worry', he stepped forward, a certain fondness flickering in his eyes. 'I'll be there to bring you the meds.' 

It happened in a fraction of a second, swiftly, Jake bent down and gave a sudden kiss on your cheek. It was soft as a feather, almost like it didn't happen.

But you felt it. You almost felt dizzy, her cheeks heating you. You brought your hands to where he had just kissed you. It had happened, hadn't it?

But before you could say anything, Jake turned around, his head hung low in embarrassment but his stomach full of butterflies and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Had he meant it?

As Jake walked his way back home, his head filled with thoughts of you, a sudden buzz of his phone. He took it out, expecting a text from you.

But no… It was someone else.

His heart dropped. A contact that hadn't been there since 1st of August.

Eunji.

"jake, im so sorry."

But what followed after that day was something you had always feared. 

He ignored you. Every text, every call, no reply. Did he just get awkward? But even an awkward Jake wouldn't be this rude. Or was he angry with you? You didn't even do anything.

The next time you saw Jake, three days later, was when you went on a grocery run.

You could spot him anywhere. 'Jake! Wait', you called out to him. He didn't stop. 'Omg, stop being a shit head would you?! Stop fucking ignoring me!' You huffed, annoyed. 

That's when you saw his figure slowly turn towards you. 'Sorry', he muttered. You ran a hand through your hair. sorry? That's all he had to say? 

'Look, if it's about that day then forget it. You-you never kissed me.' 'What? Of course not, it isn't about that day', he replied. 

You looked at him confusedly, 'Huh? Then why, Jake? I had tried calling and texting you so many times but you couldn't bother to reply to me.'Your voice slowly rose.

'I was busy catching up with Eunji okay?!' his tone matching yours.

There came that name. Her name. Did you hear it correctly? What was she doing in this conversation?

'E-eunji…?' you looked at him, at loss of words. 'I thought yo-you were over her?' 

He gave you a look of disbelief, 'No. That day she sent me a text and I realised… I wasn't.'

Why did the crack in your heart deepen? Why was it always you who got hurt? 

And you couldn't help but ask, knowing the answer would make you feel worse, 'What about us then, Jake?' 

'Us? Y/N what are you talking about? We are friends, we always have been. There is no us.' 

There, the final blow. 'Why did you make me feel so special then? All for nothing? You know how much I like you, so much that everytime we spent time together this summer, I got my hopes up. I was so foolish, because of you Sim fucking Jaeyun. And that day you kissed me, I thought, finally you'll realize but no. It's always her, isnt it?', you didn't scream but the crack in your voice said it all.

And Jake remained silent through it all. because he knew he deserved 'So, this summer meant nothing to you?' You sniffed, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

'Nothing.' But you missed the flicker in his eyes. The flicker that said otherwise.

That it wasn't nothing, it was his eveything.

August 31st was when you lost it finally.

‘It was just a summer thing’, the words rang in your ear, loud and clear. They drowned the voices of all the chatter of classmates. ‘y/n? y/n? Are you okay?’ Lily asked beside you, furrowing her eyebrows in worry.

But you couldn’t respond to her, at that very moment, you thought you couldn’t do pretty much anything except look. Or rather stare at the sight unfolding before you. Before you knew it, the plastic cup fell from your hands, the beer splashing all over the floor and getting the attention of the people in the room, the attention of them. 

In the haze, you met your eyes with his, the soft brown ones that you had fallen in love with, the one which enveloped you in warmth. But now they felt like they were hurting you, the annoyance in them.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you turned around. The room suddenly felt too small, the stares of the people felt accusing. You let go of Lily’s hand that gripped your wrist and ran in the opposite direction.

Did you hear footsteps behind you? Were they Jake’s? You hated to admit it but you wished they were. You wished that he was the one following you, the one who'd hold you back.

For once, prove it to you that you weren’t the second lead.

But he wasn’t there.

You found yourself rushing to the porch, the sounds fading out. But you could hear the blood pumping in your ears, the sound of your shallow breath that you had been holding for so long.

He wasn’t there. What did you even expect?

You were a summer thing for him… but he was your summer love.

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[hollandsfavbabe]

Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play. 

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear. 

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!” 

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you. 

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't." 

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

[raconteur-wanpi]

ONE PIECE 1124

I'm probably gonna start writing these thoughts / reactions with each new chapter at this point. At least as long as I have something to say!

Sentomaru is alive waaaahhhh!!! Mr. Golden Boy! I'm so glad! He skyrocketed his way up my favorite character list in this arc, but then again I'm weak towards any characters based on folklore / fairy tales and mythical heroes to begin with. It's nice to see him escape Egghead, but it's devastating to see him mourning like this. He lost so much, he really is a tragic character. Seeing him cry is genuinely a bullet through my heart. He lost his adoptive father, he lost the island he has spent much of his life on, he failed to protect the civilians who he risked his life to save, he's now a fugitive running from the government, and the man he considered an uncle and mentor figure was the one to pull the trigger. Poor guy, his experience with the Buster Call and loss of mentors almost makes him feel like a parallel to Robin. I hope he gets to heal, there are some revealed surprise good news he might want to hear eventually.

And speaking of tragedy within this little family unit, here it is. Borsalino's regret. This really reminded me of Garp and Ace, but unlike Garp being just passive and complacent in Ace's death, here Borsalino was the man who actually did it. You can see the sorrow and devastation but also the complacency. He was always going to do it, no matter how he feels about it. What in interesting character, I want to dissect his brain. His lack of a sense of actual justice and code was something introduced as a joke, but here we see what that actually looks like. A man passive enough to follow any order, even if it's something he isn't going to be able to bear.

And of course, the aftermath of such a conflict. This is the first time we've ever seen him sad and / or furious. He's sobbing and screaming to Sakazuki, someone who he's always tried to appease in the past. I wonder where will this lead him as a character. I adooore seeing the Marines betrayed, broken and fed up by their own system one by one. Maybe they will eventually realize they're on the wrong side of history. Or maybe Borsalino over here will stay complacent and passive as he always has been, who knows. Either way, I love the way Oda has approached all this interpersonal tragedy within all the grander politics of it.

Yep, there is it! The big twist! ...That most people myself included completely expected. Punk Records is still intact! The Gorosei need Vegapunks mind, so they explicitly tried to protect that part of Egghead. And that means, of course, all the Vegapunks' consciousness is still up there in the Cloud. There's a chance any of them could talk through Lilith, Stella included. Hell, she could probably build new android bodies for them if she gets the resources. Or at least, that's what I'm assuming she means by "everyone's alive", since she doesn't elaborate further.

Aaaand Robin getting excited to meet Saul again. 🥹 God I hope it goes well, I'll be devastated if it doesn't. PLEASE let this reunion happen properly.

And to close things off, somebody is waiting for them on Elbaf. People have pointed out the silhouette looks similar to the mysterious kasa-hat-wearing man we see chatting it up with Crocus in one of the cover stories. The most common guess I've seen is that it's Scopper Gaban, the man from Roger's crew, and potentially that he is the "man marked by flames". Others have suggested things like Shiki or even a 90-year-old Yorki who survived. I don't know if I personally have any predictions, but Gaban feels like a good guess. It could potentially also just be a character we haven't met yet. Really looking forward to the future!

[kisstuals]

if blue could be happiness

PAIRING. na jaemin x female!reader WORD COUNT. 2.4k CONTAINS. angst, romance, actor!au WARNINGS. implied smut, just the reader being sad and in her head a lot, pretty reflective and retrospective, not much plot more emotions and vibes PLAYLIST. if blue could be happiness - florist | never goodbye - nct dream | liability - lorde NOTE. turns out i love complex female characters and depressing stories and men who fall harder… who is sensing a theme in my works? also im kinda back hahahaha hope everyone has been well xx. i’d say i’ll be more active now but i have a bad track record. that being said, please do give this some love and interact and let me know ur thoughts bc that will motivate me to be more active and post more things!!! would love to chat with you all <3

All you have ever known is being alone, so you can’t help but pull away when Jaemin comes into your life. Too bad he’s here to stay.

NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE TRAVELING, there is a wave of relief that hits you when the plane finally makes its descent in New York City. The tall buildings shimmer against the twilight sky, and even from so far away, you can sense the hustle and bustle of the always-busy city. You can imagine people getting off work after staying late, going into bars for happy hour. They laugh and giggle with their friends with a drink in their hands. New York City is always alive, and that’s why you love being there, as the fervor and excitement almost allows you to forget about how empty you feel all the time.

Despite that, there is a blue stillness around. A cloud of comfort, broken by a brief anticipation.

Your fingers curl around your seatbelt, waiting for the indication that you could finally take it off and leave the plane. It had been a month since you were last home, as you had been in Paris for the shoot of your upcoming movie. There is no doubt that your time there had been lovely, for you participated in every cliche there was for a Parisian tourist… eating too many croissants every day, visiting the Eiffel Tower, getting lost in the Louvre. The actual work you had gone to Paris for also concluded smoothly, but film shoots were never a problem for someone like you who actually enjoys their job.

None of that mattered though. You were aching to finally be home. It’s difficult to ignore your heart that is practically beating out of your chest, but that may be for reasons other than simply arriving back in your favorite city.

Reasons that are called Na Jaemin.

You wonder if he thought about you nearly as much as you did over the past month. And why would you, consider that you were the one who pushed him away. But you keep on wondering this as you leave the plane. He plagues your mind at the baggage claim, when you get into the car waiting for you, and the entire ride home. The buzz of your phone on the leather seat next to you is the only thing that pulls you out of your daze, eyes blindly following whatever buildings you could see in the distance. It was getting late, but New York never slept.

It buzzes again, and you finally blink before reaching for your phone. It’s a text from your sister, who had been house-sitting for you (or, more of an excuse to hang out in the city).

sister: he just showed up.

Your eyebrows furrow. The texts keep coming in

sister: (name). sister: JAEMIN IS HERE sister: when are you getting back?

Movements growing frantic, you quickly look outside for a landmark, realizing you were still pretty far from your apartment. And with the city traffic, it would at least be another hour.

you: WDYM HE’S HERE? you: i won’t be home for a while you: tell him to go wait in my room

She sends you a thumbs up and you sigh, leaning back into your seat to close your eyes in hopes of getting some rest. Your efforts prove to be futile, of course, because he’s all you can think about.

The first time you met him, you were drunk out of your mind. It was Ryujin’s party for actors to gather and mingle if you remembered correctly, but truthfully your memories of that night were pretty foggy. Everyone was dressed nicely and there was expensive liquor lining the countertops, but you ungracefully stumbled into Jaemin, a new and rising actor whose name was everywhere on the tabloids, in a corner somewhere. See, you were normally always on your best behavior, with perfectly styled hair, manicured nails, and hands folded politely. You never tripped over your own feet. You never spoke out of turn. You never did what you weren’t supposed to do, which was a long list considering you were an A-list actress with an image pristine like glass. People looked up to you.

So you had really no explanation for how Jaemin’s hands ended up around your waist, his lips chasing your own. Your body was hot against his, aching for his touch, and when you finally gave in, there was no stopping either of you. His lips moved ferociously against yours, lighting your skin on fire wherever they touched you.

It was no surprise you ended up in his bed later that night, but it was equally less of a surprise that you left the next morning before he could even wake up.

Yet, that was only the beginning. You seemed to run into him everywhere. At parties of mutual friends, you didn’t even realize you shared. At dress fittings, because the stylist for your next movie also happened to be his personal stylist. At the new coffee shop you decided to try out, and then realized was his favorite.

Suddenly, you couldn’t run away anymore. He was going to be in your life, whether you willed for it or not, so you entertained it for a brief minute. So you kissed him at parties and showed up at dress fittings with your hand in his. Every Sunday, you went to his favorite coffee shop together. You went to sleep in his bed and woke up in his arms. His name was linked to yours, and everyone talked about it, but you didn’t care. You had relinquished all control of your life.  

It was great, until it wasn’t. Until he got too close, and you went too far.

That night, there was a downpour in New York City and you retreated back into the comforts of your home. Of the perfect, orderly life you built for yourself.

And the next morning, you left for Paris.

There is a tremble in your fingers as you enter the code to your apartment. Why was he here? You pushed him away, and then he was meant to stay away. People don’t usually try so hard to remain in your life. Probably because of how distant you keep your heart from them. Or maybe that’s why you began doing it in the first place. It’s been so long, you cannot even remember what came first.

Your sister greets you with a worried smile as you enter. She takes your coat from you and you take a moment to set down your belongings, including the large suitcase you had been hauling behind you. The longer you take to go into your room, the longer you have to prepare for whatever is about to happen.

“(Name). He’s been waiting.” Your sister says, looking pointedly at your room door. You’ve dug your toes so far into black boots that you are afraid they may appear at the other end. There is a fleeting touch of comfort on your shoulder before she walks away. With a sigh, you take off your shoes and arrange them neatly on the shoe rack.

In an apartment as big as yours, the walk to your room is shorter than you remember, but you know you cannot delay this any further. Jaemin is definitely aware of your presence, no matter how softly your clothed feet hit the wooden floor of your apartment, so you finally open the door.  

Your heart stills when you see him. He’s sitting at the foot of your bed, wearing a fluffy brown jacket and a hat to match. It’s pretty obvious how he looks out of place against your cold, blue walls.

“Hi.” His smile is cautious like you might run away upon seeing him. His worries are not entirely absurd though, as you do consider backing away. But his eyes are warm, and you remember how much you are aching for his touch. You can’t help but take another step towards him.

“Hi.” Your voice cracks and he notices, but you both choose to ignore it.

“How was Paris?”

“It was good.” The temperature of your room must be near freezing, but somehow your words are colder. Jaemin winces, subtle yet noticeable, and stands up, rubbing his hands on his jeans. You pray that he doesn’t move any closer to you, as then you might actually run away, and somehow, he listens.

The heart is a silly little thing, because you find yourself disappointed at the distance between Jaemin and you, even though this ruin was your doing.

“(Name)...” You’re not sure what he’s going to say, but the deep breath he takes before speaking lets you know that you are not ready to hear it. Not yet.

“Sorry for making you wait. Got stuck in traffic.” You begin moving around the room to straighten up a few things that suddenly looked out of order, even though no one had entered your room while you were gone.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” His gaze follows your every move. “I hope your sister wasn’t uncomfortable with me just showing up.”

“No, not uncomfortable. Just surprised that you’re here.” Arranging your lipsticks from the darkest red to the lightest nude seemed like the perfect task at this moment, so you stand in the corner of your room farthest from Jaemin, hovering over your vanity.

He sighs. “Me too.”

This makes you glance back at him, eyebrows raised. “You are… also surprised that you’re here?”

“Yeah, considering how you just left me, why would I want to be here?” Jaemin is always honest, and you appreciate him for that, but you can’t ignore the guilt that pools in your stomach as you finally meet his eyes.

Your lips purse, and if you’re feeling anything, you don’t let it show. “Why are you here, then?”

This is the question that ultimately pushes him over the edge. Jaemin’s expression darkens as he finally closes the distance between you two, stopping just close enough so you could feel his breath against yours.

“You’re seriously asking me this? After everything?” He asks incredulously, his eyes searching for answers in your own

“I told you it was over.”

“Okay, but why?” You don’t answer, but you also don’t step away. “What are you afraid of?” Your lip quivers.

“Stop,” you whisper, as you feel your resolve starting to break. Jaemin takes a step back but keeps going.

“That I’ll break your heart? That I’ll leave you and go away?” He lets out an empty, pained laugh. “Well, isn’t that what you’ve done?”

“Jaemin, I–” You begin to speak, but now it’s his turn to cut you off.

“But despite all that, I still love you.” Your eyes widen, and an unknown, indescribable feeling overtakes your entire being. A single tear escapes you, of guilt, and fear, of love and longing.

The room is silent for a minute, and then another.

You are unsure of what the proper response to his confession should be, but whatever it is, you have messed it up already by waiting so long. You owe him an answer, because of everything you’ve put him through. Because you walked into his life, and then walked out, doing it first as you were afraid he would soon enough. But above all, because you loved him too, despite everything you had tried to convince yourself of.

“I’m sorry.” You aren’t sure how to put all your thoughts in words, so you decide to apologize first, instead. And even though it may be a deflection, you hope he realizes that it’s sincere.

But there’s disbelief in his eyes, and you hate that he doubts you, even though you’ve given him every reason to. “That’s it?”

“You’re right. I left because I wanted to do it before you could.” You continue, providing him with the honesty he deserved from day one. “I was so sure you would, because people always leave anyway, you know? They come into my life, I get used to them, then they leave, and I have to get used to life without them. There’s only so many times you can do that before you simply cannot anymore.”

Jaemin’s expression is unreadable as he considers what you said. “So, the solution was to push me away, even though I told you I wasn’t going anywhere that night?” Now his tone is neutral, and you are unable to figure out if he is mad, upset, or disappointed by your explanation.

“Do you know how many times I’ve been told that?”

You had always known that the film world was a lonely one. Your dad was a producer and your mom was an actress. They fell in love when they were twenty and fell out of love when they were twenty-five, with affairs and scandals galore. That left you and your sister, mere toddlers, stuck in the middle, as they threatened to leave each other. Eventually, they just left you. Despite all that, you chose to go down the same path, as the film world was the only world you knew. And then you went through it all over it again, as friends, boyfriends, managers, and mentors all came into your life, only to leave again. The only person who had stuck around was your sister, but because she had to.

Jaemin was the first person who ever wanted to be in your life, by choice.

“I should’ve been more clear then. If I had told you I loved you that night, would you have stayed?” He asks, his voice breaking.

“I don’t think anything would’ve stopped me that night,” you say quietly, remembering how quickly you booked a flight to Paris, and leaving one week earlier than you were originally supposed to for your shoot.

“And how about now?”

You look into Jaemin’s eyes and see only a love for yourself, despite everything, just as he said. And in that moment, the heaviness that you had been carrying around in your heart for as long as you can remember finally settles.

“I want to stay.” You admit.

“So what’s stopping you?”

The question that has plagued you forever now rises to your lips, in a bout of vulnerability you never saw for yourself. “Please don’t leave me.”

At that, Jaemin is immediately reaching for you, the touch that you had yearned for finally engulfing you. He gently cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m here, aren’t I? And, I always will be. I won’t give up on us.” You nod, and return his touch, tugging on the collar of his jacket to pull him closer. “And if you leave, I’ll come after you, again and again, like I did today. I just needed to know that you want this as much as I do.”

“I love you.”

And then you kiss him like you never have before, like blue water in the forests of love. Because if blue could be happiness, that is all you ever want.

© kisstuals, 2023

[cyberpunkaddict]

2023 Letter.

Here we are again. It’s been a year since my last letter. This is my last post for 2023. I included a bunch of unreleased VP again.

Read the letter below:

This year has been a rollercoaster in many ways. It’s really easy to focus on the negative because it seems to take up so much space. But it’s important to take some time and think about the positive in life too to get some perspective.

Life is made up of tiny moments of happiness after all. ❤️

The Cyberpunk 2077 community is very important to me. "Stuff" we may or may not agree with is bound to happen no matter where we are, IRL or online. But no matter who you are, in the end we all want the same things; feel like we belong, make connections with people, escape real life for a while, have fun and feel safe.

I'm a broken record lol, but... Without you there wouldn't even be a community whatsoever. Thank you for being part of it and making it fun! ❤️

So, back to reminiscing on 2023...

If you know me, you know I'm a stubborn perfectionist. With that comes pessimism, but I’ve grown and gained a more positive outlook on life, which is something I’m proud of. It's not often I'm proud of something, striving for perfectionism and all, so admitting this is a huge achievement for me. I know I'm always gonna be a perfectionist when it comes to my art though, but that just forces me to be a better artist, so it's not all bad... As long as I don't overdo it, which is something I'm working on. My goal for 2024 is to stop being so hard on myself and upload more to Tumblr. ❤️

I started doing OC gif giveaways this year, and I definitely wanna do more, and not just gifs but VP too. I do these because I want to spread, excuse the cringe lol, happiness and positivity. I love to give back. It gives me purpose in life.

I started modding as well, which I wanted to do for months, but I was too scared because it seemed so complicated... But I did it. I'm proud I went out of my comfort zone for once.

So, Dear Everyone ❤️, once again...

Thank you for sharing your incredible art, writing, cosplay, mods, and the list goes on. I hope 2023 treated you well, if not, let's make 2024 beyond amazing! I want you to know that you make my day better no matter what is happening in my life. The simplest joke in a tag or a simple hi in a DM make me smile and laugh. And if this is how I feel, just know you make other people you've never met before feel this way too. I think that's pretty cool.

One day I might have to leave Cyberpunk 2077 behind, because that's how life goes sometimes. And that’s sad to think about... I’m not ready to put it behind me yet. At the same time it means that this community, and my OCs and yours will always have a place in my heart.

I will never forget you.

Here's to another year filled with lots of happy moments. ❤️

Bye 2023! Hello 2024!

Vicky

To everyone who made it this far, I have a little surprise... I’d like to do VP with one of your OCs. Comment on this post and tell me what you’re proud of in 2023. In a week-ish I’ll pick a random person (from the comments). :3

❤️❤️❤️

[miguelswifey04]

i saw your request were open!

something angsty with miguel pls. maybe him being neglectful of y/n and her leaving because of his workaholic ways and then he tries to win her back?

oh god yeah—i love angst 😓

neglect—miguel x fem! reader

cw: angst; fighting, breakup, overall js sad, no proofread (did this in the car)

summary: miguel doesn’t know what he has until he loses you…that’s when regret settles in for miguel even if he doesn’t show it. will you take him back or move on for good?

a biggest man’s regret is losing the one he loves. miguel o’hara, or rather known as you boyfriend in the spider society have always felt sorry for you. they all don’t understand what made you fall for a heartless closed off man. they knew at the end of the day you’d end up getting hurt. no matter what you stayed hopeful that you could fix him or even change him, but that was just wishful thinking. delusional at best was what gwen would tell you every time you’d come crying to her. she’d console you and give you word of advice but you never listened to any of what she said. it would end up going from one ear and exit out from the other. of course, anyone would be fed up if they had someone who would always complain yet never take the advice. so, you stopped coming to her for that because you knew you were being a burden. a clutz.

things change, people change, and miguel changed. he wasn’t the man you fell in love with anymore. he’s cold. bitter. and very rude. he felt distant from you he was even almost unrecognizable. whenever you thought about him your whole body would turn cold, sending shivers down your spine. even from the way he would love at you were like ice daggers stabbing at your very own presence. no matter how hard you tried to rekindle the warmth you once felt from him, it was merely impossible. oh, you already knew that things change, but, you didn’t want that. you did all you could but miguel would just push you away.

miguel was too engrossed in saving the nut multiverse. you were tired of him spewing the same bullshit over and over again like a broken record. it had no end, and miguel knew he was making you suffer whenever he’d push you away. his work was his priority yet you came second. what time of man would make his girlfriend come last? miguel would. he just didn’t know how to love you properly the way you deserved to be loved. it wasn’t your fault nor was it his, technically. he was just an emotionally unavailable man yet miguel decided to at least he opened to the idea to dating you. why? maybe because he was at least capable of harboring feelings for you. he just didn’t know how to go about it. you thought you were strong enough for miguel but you weren’t. you both didn’t know how to communicate properly which further divided the two of you—you both strayed apart in the relationship. the entire time you would walk on eggshells to be with him. when you both were in bed together, you didn’t feel his warmth. you felt so single in the relationship. this was not what you wanted.

“miguel what’s up with you? talk to me!” you begged to him. his back faced you as you saw the way his back rose and fell with each of his breath’s. the way his muscles contracted and expanded with every movement he made being busy at work. he didn’t give you an answer but to you that was your answer. it was a painful realization that his workaholic nature had caused a rift between you. you gulped as you felt your tears start to pool in your eyes. you tried to blink them away but you couldn’t catch them from cascading down your reddened cheeks. you were frustrated and embarrassed that miguel had ignored you.

“okay. i know how that is. keep ignoring me—but i won’t deal with this any longer!” who knows what possessed miguel but in the moment he turned around to face you.

“what?” he was in a state where he was visibly shaken. it was true miguel wasn’t good at expressing his feelings so no matter what no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to say to you…he couldn’t.

“what? is that all you can say to me?? are you fucking serious??” you scoffed as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your suit, sniffing, “fuck you miguel..you’re a complete jackass. i regret ever meeting you. i regret ever falling in love with you…” you didn’t even give him a chance to speak. you left.

as the days passed by miguel had tried to talk to you, for you to hear him out. but, you never gave him the chance to hear his explanation or tell you his complete feelings. he knew he was in the wrong for pushing you away as he was a workaholic. it was no excuse for him to have treated you like that. you wanted him to do better for you but he never did. it resulted in you two never seeing each other again. you shut him out and he never tried to bother you again. you happily moved on yet miguel never did. his heart still clung onto you. but at last, that was the reality and the consequences of being spider-man 2099.

[eyesofshinigami]

Leave It All Behind

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, new beginnings

Prompt: For @acasualcrossfade "Love is having hope for the future together"

WC: 1112

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 12

Steve stands in the middle of his empty bedroom, hands on his hips, trying to untangle the knot of emotions in the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure how to feel; as much as he hates this house and its shadows on the wall, it was still home for most of his life. They made some good memories here. Late night movies with Robin, hosting Hellfire for the club, and he and Eddie’s first time right there where the bed used to be. 

But, on the other hand, he can’t wait to get out of this place. Not just the house, but this town; he struggled with the idea for a long time, feeling like he was abandoning the kids, but they called him on that pretty early on. Now that the gates were closed and the Upside Down had collapsed in on itself, El promised that there was nothing else they had to worry about. No more fighting. No more saving the world.

They could just be people again. 

Steve’s not entirely sure he remembers how. When he thinks of his life over the last four years, it’s mostly a blur of blood and nightmares that have left him a little changed, a little broken. He knows things and sees things that he would never wish upon another human being, and most days it feels like he would never be free of the marks it has left on him.

But. But. 

The car is packed. Eddie’s van has been sold, since it would be too big to drive in the city. Their whole lives have been taped in boxes to bring with them to the apartment waiting for him and Eddie in Chicago, along with Eddie’s record store job and Steve’s waiting teaching program. 

Now he just has to say goodbye.

“You okay in here, Stevie?” Eddie calls from the doorway, his footsteps light across the beige carpeting. “What’s on your mind?”

Steve sighs. “Just not sure how to feel. I hated this place, but it also…” he trails off, not sure how to put it into words. It’s complicated.

“It kind of feels like letting go of something important?” Eddie finishes for him. Of course Eddie would be able to find what Steve was trying to say. Months of living out of each other’s pocket and loving each so thoroughly tends to do that to people. “I get it. As much as I would love to see Hawkins burn to the ground in a blaze of unholy glory… I think I would actually be sad about it.”

Steve can’t help his chuckle. “Yeah. I’ll just be glad to get gone, you know? Leave this place behind once and for all.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve from behind, pulling his body into a gentle sway. They’re about the same height, but feeling Eddie pressed against his back like that always makes Steve feel small and loved and cared for. “Going to be a whole new world, baby boy. Just you and me and the Big City! And, you know, maybe Robin and Nancy when they can make it down.”

That idea settles something inside Steve. Robin and Nancy are heading to Boston, three days after he and Eddie hit the road. The kids will only be a four hour drive away, practically nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’ll be fine without him, he knows, and he’s glad that thought doesn’t make him want to curl up and die anymore. 

“I can’t wait to do this with you,” Steve whispers into the empty room, turning around in Eddie’s arms so that he can rub their noses together. This wasn’t the life he had planned on having, but he’s so grateful that he gets to have it. He never thought he would find happiness and peace in someone like Eddie; frankly, he never thought he’d find it at all. He had spent so long convinced that he was going to be just like his dad, angry and bitter and mad at the world because he was trapped in a life he didn’t want but thought he had to live. 

Not Steve. He shed that shit the moment that demogorgon came after them in the Byers house, slowly shaping into the person he is now. A person moving to Chicago to start a life with the man he loves more than life itself, who is planning on being a teacher and starting a garden on their little rooftop. 

A person he can be proud of. A person he can learn to love like Eddie does.

“And I can’t wait to do this with you, baby. No one else I’d rather do this with. The words are whispered against Steve’s lips, like a secret just for the two of them, even if they both tend to wear their love on their sleeves. “Just think, in like… ten hours, we’ll be unpacked in our new place and we can break in our new bed tonight. Scare the neighbors, you know?” Eddie grins against his mouth.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him back, even if he loves the pleasant little shiver Eddie’s words produce. Their place. Their bed. Their life together. “Come on, you menace. Let’s go say our goodbyes and get this show on the road.” 

They walk down the stairs hand in hand, after Steve gives one last silent farewell to this room, this place. One day he’ll be able to put it away, fold the memory of this place up like a letter and hide it in the back of his drawer, never to think about it again. Today? Today he lets it hurt, just a little. 

They give hugs and kisses and noogies to the assembled crowd that’s here to see them off. Their going away party had been the night prior, a perfect send off that had Steve crying into Eddie’s shoulder when they went to bed in Eddie’s trailer for the last time. It was perfect, all that he could ask for. 

It’s not forever, but it’s definitely time. Steve’s ready. 

He climbs into the driver’s seat and gets settled in, giving a few more last minute waves as Eddie climbs in on the other side. He starts the car and pulls down the driveway, trying to swallow the lump growing in his throat. 

It hurts, but in a good way. Kind of like the way a healing bruise feels when you flex the skin. Painful, but bearable. Especially when Eddie takes his hand and holds it over the console, squeezing it tight as they make their way out of Hawkins and into their future.

Together.

[foxes-that-run]

Where do Broken Hearts Go?

WDBHG and four overall has a 80s sound. WDBHG sounds like a Belinda Carlisle's Heaven is a Place on Earth, both are anthemic 80's songs. In this video is the Spotify visual, TV Special, Four Hangout and when Harry changed the lyric to "Will you ever F*** me again" in Sydney 8 February 2015. It refers to I Love You which Harry wrote under a pseudonym and included lyrics from Taylor's Red.

When was it written & who with

Harry wrote WDBHG with Ruth-Ann Cunningham, (who later wrote No Control and on Niall's solo album) Teresa Geiger (Little black dress), Ali Tamposi and Julian Bunetta. It’s likely it was written over a period of time (December 2013 - May 2014) with these collaborators rather than all in one day with all these people.

7 December 2013, London, seems to be the day shown in the Spotify visual, based on clothes.

12 March 12 to March 25 2014 Teresa Geiger, posted pics on him being in a studio in LA and Harry was in LA and has lunch a 21 minute drive from the LA studio it was recorded at (Dojo Studio). (it was also recorded at Wendyhouse London) This also close to when JALBOH and Stockholm were written.

On 8 May 2014 One Direction record Change your ticket in Fasano Hotel, Rio De Janeiro which is credited in the booklet. The TV Special shows Harry recording WDBHG there (2:25) but the hotel is not credited so that version is not the final vocals, or they used an earlier one.

It was announced 10 November 2014 and Niall says it is his favorite in the Four Hangout and Harry says thank you.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Niall, All] Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standin' out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go

The theme of crimes (stealing, kidnapping)

So, I built you a house from a broken home Then I wrote you a song with the words you spoke Yeah, it took me some time, but I figured out How to fix up a heart that I let down

Home theme, Harry refers to home often. Here the is broken between him and the muse and the muses home. At this time Taylor parted with her publicist who cited her parents fighting as an issue.

The song with the words you is “I love you” performed by Alex and Sierra:

[Chorus: Zayn, All] Now, I'm searchin' every lonely place Every corner, callin' out your name Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?

Lonely is a theme of Harry’s work. Harry is searching everywhere for this person, drawing imagery of how far Harry was travelling, as if always in search of this person.

[Verse 2: Liam, Harry, All] Yeah, the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue Is at the top of the list of the things I want

Harry was seen wearing the outfit in the Spotify visual on 7 December 2013, this first line (taste of your lips is top of the list) reminds me of Christmas, when what do you want from Christmas was a common 1D interview question.

Mind is runnin' in circles of you and me Anyone in-between is the enemy

Circles refers to the theme of round again, a cyclical relationship. The only other circular lyric of Harry’s is ‘same mistakes’ which also refers to mistakes. Here like in Same Mistakes Harry is singing to a muse with an on/off relationship that keeps coming back. And in A.M ‘swimming round in our glasses’. Taylor has also posted about cycles and the winding wheel.

Anyone in between is the enemy refers to people others coming between them.

Shadows come with the pain that you're runnin' from Love was something you never heard enough Yeah, it took me some time, but I figured out How to fix up a heart that I let down

'Shadows come from the pain you're running from, love is not something you’ve heard enough.' Brings to mind “who’s this shadow holding me” in Stockholm Syndrome. Here the shadows are haunting the muse, earlier Harry referred to a broken home and here they have not heard love again and he feels sad for having added to their feeling of wanting for love. Harry has figured out how to not let them down and needs to find them to fix it.

[Chorus: Zayn, All] Now, I'm searchin' every lonely place Every corner, callin' out your name Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Are you sleeping baby by yourself Or are you giving it to someone else? Tryna find you, but I just don't know Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?

Harry is not with the muse when the song was written, he’s wondering if they are with someone else.

[Bridge: Harry, All] Tell me now, tell me now Tell me where you go when you feel afraid (Where do broken hearts go?) Tell me now, tell me now Tell me, will you ever love me again, love me again?

In the bridge Harry asks where the muse goes when they are afraid, presumably of love. In Sydney on 8 February Harry changed the first “will you ever love me again” to “will you ever f*** me again?” On the same day Taylor watched Ariana perform JALBOH at the Grammy's, Harry and Taylor had broken up but she was not yet dating Calvin.

The bridge further confirms Harry is singing to someone he shared love with before and was not with.

[Outro: Louis, Harry, Zayn & All] Tell me where you're hidin' out Where do broken hearts go? Come on, baby, 'cause I need you now Where do broken hearts go? Tell me, 'cause I'm ten feet down Where do broken hearts go? Come on, baby, come and get me out x2 Come on, baby, 'cause I need you now Where do broken hearts go?x4

In the outro Harry writes that he needs to find the muse, asking them to tell him because he is “ten feet down” as in dead and buried. This is a theme of love that is alive at the cemetery referred to again in HYGTG, Two Ghosts, OOTW/LAWYMMD transition, down bad and loml.

Harry goes on to write “Get me out” of the grave, as in come back and bring him back to life. He has no life without this person. Earlier in the song Harry says he let the muse down, now he’s asking them to pull him up out of the grave he’s found himself in for breaking her heart. He’s asking for forgiveness