#Is anything like what Taylor was doing in the Black Dog

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

The various ways people have checked in with two different Black Dog pubs to figure out whether the song is about Matty or Joe.///

What about people going to the Beachwood Cafe he mentions in Falling, and mentions of the Heath which have people flocking there looking out for flower shops? In Fine Line, the guy even talked about her new partner and his parents' art gallery.

He doesn't tell linear narrative stories like TS does but there's a lot there nevertheless. Obviously Only Angel is the main song about KJ.

I think Harry's fans in general overlook a lot of his storytelling because they either dislike the muses (TS, KJ, CR, OW) or they think the songs are about Louis.

I am finding this conversation quite odd - because you don't seem to be engaging at all with what I see as the main point.

You seem to be focused on something you already believe - that Harry's fans ignore what he says about his life - and assuming that that's what I'm saying. I'm not denying that Harry references his life. I'm saying the way that he references is life is qualitatively different from the way these other acts have referenced their lives.

The big pop acts of this summer have all been both specific and intimate about their lives and how they feel. If you listen to their albums to learn about their lives they've all been saying things that are interesting and revealing. This isn't something I've just made up, it's something that is talked about reasonably widely. I gave the example of Nathan Hubbard works in the music industry and doesn't have any of those thoughts about people Harry dated. He's a huge Harry fan, but has said that he doesn't know who Harry is and that the music is a challenge said that he didn't know who Harry Styles was and that that's a challenge for Harry going forward. If you want to have a conversation about what I mean it's worth listening to the episode I linked to so we're not talking at cross purposes (I don't actually agree with his conclusions, but I think the question is interesting).

Harry does reference relationships (although I'm not convinced that's what he was doing in Grapejuice. The tradition of songs that are about substances and love and its not necessarily clear which is a metaphor for which is a great one). But mentioning a place or a fact about someone's life in the way Harry does is very different from what the big pop acts of the year have done.

I don't think that there's much comparison between what Taylor does in the Black Dog and what Harry does in Falling (which like I said is one of Harry's songs with the most lore). Lore isn't just references. Taylor is incredibly good at that combination of revealing things fans didn't know, and also giving people things to figure out (or think they've figured out). That's not the only way to make lore - Sabrina and Charli both leaned towards being incredibly honest about how they feel about other famous people - including things that people don't normally say.

I want to be clear that these are just different modes of songwriting. One isn't better than the other, but they are different. I'm not denying what Harry does and has done, when I say it's different from the mode that is most popular at the moment.

[renard-dartigue]

Hi now i'm curious what is the beef with the rappers

Man this is going to be long so I'll try to keep this simple and entertaining. I hope this comes across as clear cause I'm shook right now.

Here is a glossarie to break thing up:

Prologue (The Spark 🔥)

Round 1.1 (Physical Education 💪🏾)

Interlude part 1 (Roots 🏠)

Round 1.2 (2 Warning Shots 🔫)

Interlude part 2 (Pusha the Seer 👁)

Round 2.1 (Knifes Out 🔪 )

Round 2.2 (The Nuke 💥)

Epilogue (All eyes on him 👀)

My Theory 🤷🏾‍♂️

Highly recommend checking out the tracks yourself while you read along.

Prologue (The Spark)

Let it be known that I am a neutral party and that I don't take sides when it comes to rap beef. I was here for the music and creativity. I am just trying to recount events to the best of my knowledge. Sorry if some details are inaccurate.

Okay so basically, Drake, J Cole, and Kendrick Lamar are the Big 3 of the rap world right now.

A month ago, Future and Metro Boomin (two rapper who supposedly don't fuck with Drake anymore) released a song with Kendrick Lamar called "Like That". In the song Kendrick took a shot at Drake and J Cole, saying there isn't a big 3, its only him on top.

4 weeks ago J Cole dropped a track called "7 Minute Drill" that is dissing Kendrick. However, in a move that is very uncharacteristic of J, he took down the official track and formally apologized to Kendrick. Thus signaling his exit from the rap battle.

ROUND 1.1 (Physical Ed)

Drake on the other hand dropped "Push Ups" 2 weeks ago, a diss track that went after other rappers he doesn't like but mainly Kendrick. In it, he made fun of Kendrick's height and his contracts. He then ends the song with "I was really try'n keep it PG" meaning he has a nuke on Kendrick that people don't know.

Not long later, Drake dropped ANOTHER diss track "Taylor Made Freestyle" with Ai voices of Snoop Dog and fucking 2PAC! Kendrick has stated before that 2pac is one of his idols so this must have been a deep cut. In the song Drake claims Kendrick doesn't write his own music and uses the writers of Taylor Swift. Relating a rapper to pop music is seen as disrespectful.

INTERLUDE PART 1 (Roots)

Before I continue, I want to give a brief run down on how the public perceives these two rappers.

Drake portrays himself as a superstar, he's always on social media flaunting his success and partying with other celebrities, seeing alot of women and living a lavish lifestyle. His music is catchy, something you put on in the club. Most of his fan base praise him for his sick beats and witty lyrics. He's been in the music industry for a while and is no push over.

Kendrick Lamar is a very private person, doesn't expose anything about his personal life unless its on a track. He almost never gets into fights with anyone. He is a family man, stressing the importance of being there for his wife and son and encourages other fathers to do the same. His fan base praise him for his creative lyrics and highlighting the black American condition.

ROUND 1.2 (2 Warning Shots)

2 Day ago, Kendrick Lamar came back with his first official diss track on Drake called "Euphoria". In this song, Kendrick goes in on Drakes fake personality. Drake has always been known around the community as a bit of a poser, he grew up in Canada and was raised by his white mother, a relatively comfortable childhood. He was a star on the popular show Degassi when he was young. garnering him a fan base early in his career. Kendrick doesn't approve of Drake appropriating black American culture and acting like he some tough guy. When in reality he is a Canadian nerd thats disrespectful to 2pac. All throughout the song, Kendrick hits at things that many people have know about Drake, such as his behavior around underage girls. He also called Drake a deadbeat father who isn't in his son's life, even referencing his lost battle to Pusha T. Then Kendrick finally warns him that he has more dirt that he is willing to share if Drake takes things further.

Similar to Drake, Kendrick dropped another track called "6:16 in LA" later that day. This song focuses on Drake's environment, specifically the people he hangs with. Kendrick implies that Drake paid people to dig into his background and when they didn't find anything, Drake made up stuff instead. Kendrick then says that someone in Drakes group is leaking information to him about something even more serious. Also planting a seed in Drake's mind that his supposed friends don't actually like him, just like the clout from hanging around him.

INTERLUDE PART 2 (Pusha the Seer)

Taking a quick break again, we need to discuss something that occurred long before Drake's battle with Kendrick.

5 years ago, Drake was in a rap battle with rapper Pusha T, someone who was smaller than Drake at the time in terms of popularity. Pusha dropped a song called "The Story of Adidon" where he dropped a bomb that Drake had a kid and wasn't taking care of him. Drake initially denied it but it was later revealed to be true.

Since then Drake has never responded to Pusha T's diss track, making Pusha the current winner. And Kendrick is bringing it back into the light.

Round 2.1 (Knifes Out)

Around 2 am EST time of May 4th, Drake drops his diss track, "Family Matters" one of his strongest songs, switching his flow 3 times in the span of 7 minutes. In true Drake fashion, its a club song with a catchy beat. Like his previous diss, its aimed at multiple people but the main focus is on Kendrick, even bring up "I was really try'n keep this PG".

Drake doubles down on his black identity and mocks the fact that Kendrick and other rappers are saying he isn't black, (incorrectly assuming that they are coming at him for being mixed when the real issue is that he is appropriating black American rap culture as a Canadian mixed man who grew up in a safe environment) Drake not only calls Kendrick a fraud who only raps about black issues for attention, Or that his activism is performative. He makes a shocking claims that Kendrick is a wife beater. Then Drake says that Kendrick's son doesn't belong to him and implies Kendrick's producer was the real father.

The track caused an uproar. But only for the span of 15 minutes. Because Kendrick did the unthinkable.

ROUND 2.2 (THE NUKE)

Almost as if expecting Drake's move, Kendrick Lamar did what no one saw coming. He dropped his diss track "Meet The Grahams" about 15 minutes after Drake released "Family Matters".

This time around, in a fashion almost unheard of from him, Kendrick strips all the usual metaphors from his lyricism and structures his track like he is speaking to Drake and his family, 4 parts per individual.

Kendrick begins by speaking to Drakes Son, Adonis, the same son Pusha T exposed Drake for neglecting 5 years ago. He's apologizing to him for his father's behavior. Kendrick speaks to him softly but sternly like a mentor, telling him not to be like his father. Kendrick tells Adonis all the things Drake did and warns him not to do them too: involved with escorts, plastic surgery to appear more black, surgery to look more muscular, hiding a kid. (Kendrick stresses that Adonis is black regardless of being mixed, further highlighting that he isn't discrediting Drake's blackness because he's mixed but because he isn't being himself.) Finishing of by telling the kid to be proud of who he is.

The second half is Kendrick addressing Drake's mother and father, Sandra and Denise. Kendrick speaks to her like he's revealing tragic news, explaining to her that her son is involved in disgusting things. He goes down a list of things, his tone growing more intense and angry. Kendrick then claimed that Drake is employing and enabling pedos in his group, and hopes they die. Even implying that his group is going to be raided by the feds some day.

The third half is the MOST shocking of all. Kendrick begins talking to an unnamed individual, simply calls her babygirl. Similar to Adonis, Kendrick takes on a somber tone and apologizes to her for Drakes behavior. He says its not her fault Drake abandoned her, says that she is deserving of love. He warns her not to become a target for people like Drake to pray on and says she has so much to offer the world.

Kendrick revealed Drake has ANOTHER kid and isn't in their life! (Allegedly)

To close of, the fourth half is Kendrick speaking directly to Drake, his tone tired. He tries to reiterate that he doesn't have hate for him. However, Kendrick says Drake was the first one to go after his family and he couldn't let it slide. He once again calls for Drake to take the mask off. Then says this isn't a rap battle anymore, tells Drake he is fighting himself.

Epilogue (All eyes on him)

And so here we are, waiting for what will happen next.

Drake posted an Instagram story denying the claim he has another kid. But given what happened with Pusha T, we can't quite take his word for it yet. We should wait a bit to see if anything comes out.

Kendrick hasn't put out a statement on Drake's claims about him but given the recurring theme of Drake being a manipulative lier, Kendrick clearly denies it. Given how private he is, its difficult to prove or disprove it. Much like Drake's claims, we will have to wait and see if any evidence comes out about it.

Drake and Kendrick stans are at eachothers throats right now, arguing over who one and whats real or fake.

Right now everyone is looking to see if Drake is going to continue the battle or stay silent like he did with Pusha.

My Theory

Personally as an outside observer who only followed the beef for good music. I think this goes beyond a simple rap battle.

Here is my theory: Someone from Drake's clique told Kendrick that Drake and his producers were writing something about him. Real or fake, Kendrick was pissed. And so he drafted 3 tracks, dumping everything he hates about Drake into them. And then, with the leaker's help, Kendrick baited Drake into a battle, goading Drake to drop the "Family Matters" track so he can shut the battle down with "Meet the Grahams". Or maybe his first 2 tracks were a warning to Drake that if he released a track with lies on him he would reveal he has another kid.

I do think Kendrick initially had good intentions in trying to help Drake be a better person. But maybe the more he learned about Drake the less sympathetic he felt.

But I don't know thats just how I see it.

Thanks for reading my essay. I hope it made sense heh. I encourage healthy discussions in the comments and reblogs please. But everyone agrees that Drake is inappropriate with young girls. We won't argue over that.

[afterglowsainz]

so high school | lando norris

summary: no one imagined that the rising popstar of the moment and the papaya f1 driver would be dating until an album release and a very much awaited maiden win takes everyone by surprise

fc: maia reficco

request: here

a/n: whenever you guys request something based on a taylor song a fairy is born <3

—

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TAKE A TOUR OF THE MCLAREN TEAM HUB WITH LANDO NORRIS & OSCAR PIASTRI posted by mclaren on youtube

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landonorris pre-miami🧸

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landonorris 🖤

[landosjpg]

the black dog | ln

the one where you watch your ex boyfriend walk into some bar called the black dog.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: angst!!!!, happy ending so fluff as well, brief discussion of bad mental health, lando is a bit of a prick at some point, exes to lovers, one sexual innuendo (?)

note: based on this request and obviously the black dog by taylor swift. this is one of my favorite taylor songs EVER i got so excited when i got this request. i also love a good angsty, heart-breaking fic so giving this a happy ending was a bit harder than it should’ve but i hope you enjoy it!

“stop that,” you softly cooed, your hands cupping his cheeks to try and make him look at you.

the past few weeks had been harsh on him, and you could feel how every self-deprecating comment just made him drown deeper into his own head. you just wanted the best for him.

he didn’t answer. instead, he looked away again, trying his best to avoid your gaze at all costs.

“it’s just been a bad weekend, baby. next one will be better,” you added.

“stop with the optimistic bullshit,” he rudely said before you could add anything else to try and cheer him up.

you knew he was angry —rightfully so —after missing on a potential win only a few days before, but you couldn’t just sit and watch him bring himself down anymore.

“it just hurts to see you like this,” you mumbled.

“it’s hurting you?” he snapped, his tone accusing. “why do you have to make everything about you, every single time?”

as his words escaped his lips, he gently pushed you off his lap, immediately getting up from the couch.

“i’m just saying…” you tried to explain, although his words hurt more than you would ever admit out loud.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he cut you off. “it’s always the same story with you. the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, you know?”

your lips parted, intending to defend yourself, but no words left your mouth. not like lando would had let you speak, anyway.

“this is the last thing i need right now, i’m done here,” he grumbled.

you froze at the tone of his voice, not having heard him talking to you like that ever before. and you didn’t do anything to stop him when he picked up his jacket and walked to the entrance of your apartment, announcing his departure with a loud slam of the front door.

he just needed time, you told yourself.

but he didn’t call, and you didn’t wake up to a simple apology in your messages and him asking to see you as you were used to.

and it had been forty-two days since he had stormed out of your apartment and, unknowingly to you, vowed to never talk to you again.

and after six weeks of no contact, you still missed him.

lando had been more than just your boyfriend, he had been your best friend for as long as you could remember; he was there, in every little memory you had.

you had always been the first person he ran to whenever the smallest thing happened, and for the past few weeks you had to settle for watching his life go on without you through pictures and media outlets.

and as much as your friends tried to tell you that it would get better, every morning without him just got harder than the previous one; used to having his arms wrapped all around you and his curls tickling your neck, waking up in a cold bed was certainly something you weren’t quite fond of.

however, he seemed to be moving on.

that’s what you thought as you sat in the darkness of your room, the only light illuminating the space being the dim glow of your phone’s screen as you intently watched the small, blue dot moving on your screen.

he had forgotten to turn his location off.

like every weekend since the break up, you watched him walk into some random bar in a different city, piercing a new, deeper hole in your heart every time. and you couldn’t help but hope that they played your song each night, that even the smallest thing reminded him of you.

but instead, every morning you woke up to a new picture of him leaving the place with some girl wrapped around his arm, while you could barely wear your favorite clothes because they took you back to a memory you shared with him.

you didn’t understand how he didn’t miss you, how he could be doing so good without you by his side.

୨୧

it had never been his intention to walk out of your life that afternoon. but when the anger washed away, all he could feel was shame.

guilt, for how he had talked to you when all you wanted was to help. and he wasn’t sure he could ever look at you in the eyes without the feeling overfilling his senses. so, instead, he did what he knew best: he ran away.

and the only thing that could take you off his mind for some time was drowning his own pain in alcohol every weekend, end the night with some girl’s legs wrapped around him.

but that night, he froze as the first notes of your song started playing; the song that had started playing when you got in his car the first time he took you out on a proper date. and the upbeat music took him right back to that day.

he could still picture the sight of your teary eyes as you walked into his apartment after another failed date —the guy hadn’t even showed up; the sound of your sobs as you buried your face on his chest, looking for some comfort, still making his heart clench.

“you deserve better,” he had whispered into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. “someone who’s willing to give you everything.”

“i’m tired of searching,” you had simply mumbled, feeling hopeless after so many disappointments.

“maybe you don’t have to search for it,” he had said before he could even think about his words. “maybe it’s been right in front of your nose all this time.”

at the underlying confession of his words, you raised your head from his chest to look up at him.

“hm?” you hummed.

lando had always liked you; but he had also been scared of you not reciprocating his feelings, of your friendship being ruined by the love he had for you. however, he had been completely oblivious as to the way you had always looked at him.

but that time, he caught the glint in your eyes as his gaze met yours, and so he confidently asked:

“can i take you out on a date?”

he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw you crack a smile, relief washing all over him.

“i would love to,” you mumbled.

he smiled at your reply, his thumbs coming up to wipe the remains of your tears.

“tonight, then?” he softly kissed your cheek before you nodded and wrapped your arms around his frame, unknowing of how the turn your relationship would take after that night.

he looked down at the girl who was grinding herself against him, trying to ignore the memories flooding his mind; but her eyes didn’t sparkle the way yours did as the song played. and he knew she just wouldn’t get the jokes he was so tempted to make, the ones that would send you into a fist of laughter despite of the many times you had heard them before.

in short, she simply wasn’t you. and he knew he wouldn’t ever feel that way with someone else.

“excuse me,” he said, trying to push her away from him.

he made his way out of the bar pushing in between the sea of people, his phone clutched in his hand the second he stepped a foot outside.

he sighed as he looked at his screen, the cool air making him come back to his senses; he couldn’t just text you. not after ghosting you for over a month.

but he missed you, so what else could he do? how else could he apologize for what he did?

୨୧

you turned around in bed as you felt the room being illuminated again by the screen of your phone, a message interrupting your attempt to sleep.

your heart skipped a beat as you saw his contact picture, followed by a simple “are you up?”. you couldn’t believe your eyes, anxiety coursing through your veins as you stared at the message.

“you still have read receipts on”

“say something, please”

fuck, of course. and you had been staring at his text for five minutes straight.

“what?” you simply typed with shaky fingers; it was dry, yes, but you were still hurt about how things ended between the two of you.

his answer came almost immediately: “just wanted to apologize” it read.

but nothing could’ve prepared you for his next message, asking if he could come over instead of doing so over text.

you hesitated for a few minutes; you knew you shouldn’t, but you needed closure as well.

so, naturally, you accepted.

you anxiously padded around your house as you waited for him, biting your nails as you imagined every possible scenario that could happen. five. ten. fifteen minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door.

the door opened slowly, revealing the figure of your ex-boyfriend.

you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him and turning around with your gaze fixed on the floor. the silence was deafening,and the situation felt awkward.

“can i have some water?” lando tried to break the ice, his eyes fixed on you as you simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

when you came back only a few minutes later with two glasses on your hands, he had made himself comfortable. you walked to the couch and sat next to him, with a considerable distance between the two of you.

“i just…” he broke the silence again, his voice low and slightly nervous. you didn’t dare look at him yet, so you looked down at your lap, where you fidgeted with your fingers.

you heard him sigh as he chose his next words carefully.

“i never meant to hurt you, or ruin what we had,” lando started. “it was a few bad weeks, and i know i shouldn’t have, but i took it all out on you. and then i didn’t think i could even look you in the face after what i said.”

you looked up at him, your eyes starting to water as you took in his words.

“you could’ve just explained yourself, i would’ve understood,” you replied with a thin, vulnerable voice.

“i was ashamed of myself after the fight and i thought running away from all of it would be the best,” he said as his gaze met yours. “truth is i haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single minute all this time. i really miss you,” he almost whispered.

“i…” you stuttered.

“i get it if you can’t forgive me,” his voice broke mid-sentence.

“‘s not that,” you mumbled, a few tears running down your cheeks. “just wish it didn’t take you this long.”

you noticed his pained expression as he noticed the tears on your face, quickly whispering a soft “c’mere” as he opened his arms. you sighed and scooped next to him, letting his arms wrap around your frame in a comforting hug.

“i’m really sorry,” you heard him whisper into your hair before he planted a gentle kiss on top of your head. “i won’t leave again.”

“promise?” you murmured, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“promise, baby,” he answered in the same low voice.

you nodded slightly, your eyes fluttering close as you took in his scent and the way his grip on you tightened, an oath to never let you go again.

[andillneverbethesame]

hey! Could you write anything with James Potter based off the black dog by Taylor? This song has been killing me for the last weeks and I love your writing!! If not that’s okay! Have a nice day 🤗🤗

THE BLACK DOG

❥ james potter x reader

❥ warnings: cheating, smut...

❥word count: 2k

❥ a/n: i love this song sm

my ts masterlists pt 1 pt 2

"where were you?" you asked him as soon as he got home. it was two in the morning, three hours past the time he promised to come back.

he doesn't evn bother to give you a "hello" kiss on the top of your head like he used to. he doesn't even look at you. it's been like this for a while now.

"at the black dog. with the boys," he said. short answer. like always.

you knew he was at the black dog. he always forgot to turn his location off. but you also share yours with all of 'the boys': sirius black, remus lupin and peter pettigrew and you knew very well they weren't at the black dog.

so if he wasn't with them, who was he with?

the answer is a pretty ginger girl with green eyes who used to go to the same school with you and james.

lily evans.

she was someone you've always felt insecure of because of her past with james. the two of them dated for about a year and broke up just about half a year before you and james started going out.

he always reassured you and even lily told you there's nothing but friendship between them and you believed them.

you wouldn't believe them now.

"interesting," you mumbled, trying your best not to start shouting at him.

"what?" he stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned around to face you.

you shook your head and laid your head on the pillow.

james got into your shared bed about half an hour later. you could hear him sigh a couple of times and also pace around your bathroom before he decided to go and lie down with his back facing you.

"goodnight, i love you," you whispered loud enough for him to hear but. . .

he said nothing back.

--------------------------------------------------

when you and james broke up, a few weeks later, it felt like the end of the world.

this break up wasn't as dramatic as in all the movies and books. james came home from merlin knows where and said, "i can't do this anymore."

you knew what he meant. he couldn't continue pretending you two were going to be fine, he even stopped calling a lunatic whenever you brought lily up. he couldn't continue coming back home, wishing someone else was waiting for him and then pretending it's her lying next to him in bed. he couldn't continue pretending that you're both not dying inside.

when james told you that, you only nodded, whispering, "okay". there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do. all was already said and done. you were exhausted fighting for the both of you. the ship was sinking and you were going down with it.

james seemed to be surprised when you didn't start yelling at him or crying and begging him to stay. you watched his confusion. he looked as if he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"alright, then." he went upstairs and packed his things. well, not really, he was already packed. you saw his black bag stuffed with his clothes under your bed about a week ago and decided not to wonder how long it was there.

when he came back down, he saw you had not moved from the spot on your sofa.

"okay, um, well. . ." he paused. "i'm going."

you nodded, your face emotionless as you stared at the wall, not sparing him a glance.

you heard him place something on the kitchen table and judging by the sound, you figured out it was his keys to this flat.

"i'm sorry, it ended like this. i wish i could change things, but i can't. i'm really sorry." he waited for your reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to, scared you'll break down. he didn't deserve to see you cry, not anymore. it surprised you that for the first time, he apologized and sounded genuine, making the situation a thousand times harder for you.

his steps faded into the hallway. the door opened, and then closed. and after that, you finally allowed yourself to let it out.

--------------------------------------------------

despite the fact this heartbreak and the break up in general wasn't unexpected and your heart has been shattered for the past few months, you couldn't bring yourself to move on, or at least try to, and the only thing you did was grieving.

you didn't think it was fair. you tried your best to save the relationship, killing yourself in the process and yet, james was the only one leaving unscathed, his heart untouched as if the love you two once shared meant nothing to him.

you could imagine him and lily doing the thing you two used to do, too. you'd bet all your money they went out to dinner every other night, probably to black dog, or they'd have a night in with all their friends.

speaking of friends, remus was the one who checked up on you the most. he showed up at your flat at least three times a week with a different big chocolate bar every time and you two would spend time talking. you opened to remus about a lot of things, but you doubted you would ever open up up the way you did to james.

"he accidentally called lily by your name, the other day." he told you one thursday evening.

"´huh? did he. . ."

"yeah. . . me, james and sirius were out and passed a floral shop. james stopped and said, "would you wait for me, lads? i gotta buy some flowers for y/n." he didn't even realise he misspoke. and then, he came out with a bouquet of peonies even though lily told him she likes daffodils."

you almost choke on your chocolate when you heard he bought peonies. they were yours favourite.

"yeah. i told him and he just nervously laughed and went back for daffodils. . . by the way he still didn't tell his parents you two aren't together anymore so whenever mia calls and asks about you, james straight up lies to her."

you frowned at the memories of his parents. you loved them and you were going to miss them so much.

"does lily know?" you asked. not that it was any of your business. you were just curious.

"yeah. it upsets her, but she doesn't really say anything about it." he paused and sadly smiled at you. "we really miss you around, y/n. even though we all like lily, everyone is pissed at james for hurting you. even sirius. he'd come to visit too, but he's afraid james could find out."

"i get he's afraid, but james hasn't got a saying in who sirius hangs out with. just as i hadn't got a saying in who james shags," you joked. but remus didn't find that funny. "tell sirius and peter i miss them too. and that they can come around anytime they want."

"will do."

silence prevailed between you two. but it wasn't awkward. it was actually pretty comfortable.

"y/n?" remus broke it.

"yeah?"

"you'll be okay, right?"

you nodded, although if you were honest, you weren't really sure.

"i will be. i have to be."

--------------------------------------------------

in that same very moment, about five miles south, in lily evans's flat, was a couple in a heated moment.

the girl's bright red lipstick was all over his face and neck, all their clothes were already long forgotten on the cold bathroom floor as lily turned on the shower, the hot drops soaking up their bodies immediately.

james's hands traveled from lily's face to her chest, then waist, and then her ass and thighs. she whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it like a starved man.

and just then, a memory hit him hard. this has happened before. not with lily, but with you.

as james pretended not to be lost in his head while pleasuring lily with his fingers and lips, he could not stop thinking about you.

what the fuck is wrong with you? he asked himself. lily moaned his name out loud and dugged her nails into his skin. you barely think of her for whole two weeks and now you can't get her out of your mind? why now?

lily's body was shaking in the same way yours was, her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide opened with her eyes closed shut. james's mind betrayed him. he couldn't stop wishing this was you.

did you hate him? he wondered. you had to. he hated himself in that moment for what he did to you.

he wondered how you were doing. he knew remus came to visit you quite often but he never felt brave enough to ask him about you.

"james!" lily screamed as her eyes rolled back to the back of her head, snapping the boy out of his thoughts as she let her body fall into his arms.

"wow," she breathed out after a moment of silence. she glanced at james and asked, poiting at his cock, "do you want me to—"

"no," he cut her off, smiling nervously. "that's okay."

he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom completely, leaving lily standing there utterly confused.

--------------------------------------------------

six weeks since james walked out of that door and it felt like yesterday. you still missed him the same. you still hoped that he would realize his mistake and come back crawling to you, begging for your forgivness. you still missed him even though him being around was mentally draining.

you felt him everywhere in this flat. after all, you chose it together. he was everywhere. when you came home, even when you left it. you felt him in your bed and behind you in the bathroom. you felt him in your heart, soul and bones and you couldn't get him out.

"i wanna sell this flat," you told remus. "everything reminds me of james way too much. i can't do this."

"i understand. i hard alice and frank longbottom are looking for a flat. maybe you could buy alice's. do you want her number?"

"yeah, sure."

just as you were about to call alice, your phone started ringing and his picture appeared on the screen with the name "jamie ♡". you realized you still didn't change his name.

remus saw the shocked expression on your face. "what's wrong?"

ignoring him. you took a deep breath and tapped the light green button.

"hi." you heard him say, sounding almost relieved that you didn't hang up.

"hi."

"i'm sorry," he blurted out.

you sighed. "you already said that."

"i know but i really mean it. i'm sorry for how i treated you. i'm sorry that i was unfaithful, i'm sorry i called you a lunatic when you brought lily up, even though you were completely right about everything. i'm sorry for how cold, distant and rude i was for the last months of our relationship. you didn't deserve any of it. and i'm sorry."

wow. you waited for him to say that for so long.

"i-" you were speechless. "thank you, james, for your apology, i appreciate it. you are right, i didn't deserve any of it. not when i left no stone unturned while you didn't even lift a finger." he stayed quiet, knowing well you were right. "look, james, i'll forget you one day. i'll forget all of it, all of the lies and the pain. but i could never forgive you. what you did was humiliating and cruel. i never felt more unloved and worthless. i'll never forgive you for making me feel like that about myself."

"i'm really sorry," you heard him whisper.

"right now, i could say that i wish you all the best and that i hope you and lily will live happily ever after. but i'm not a liar, not like you. i really hope it's shitty wherever you are. i really hope it's shitty in the black dog.

[castiwls]

the black dog - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'And so I watch as you walk, into some bar called The Black Dog And pierce new holes in my heart'

Requested; anon

Notes; I LOVE this song sm words cannot describe.

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You’d never been a jealous person. It was something you’d prided yourself on for so long, yet now you were starting to doubt your ability to keep calm in certain situations. 

The bar was relatively empty as you quietly nursed your drink. Sam had long since fallen into his own little world as he researched whatever new case he had found while you were left to entertain yourself. 

Normally you'd have Dean dragging you off to do god knows what yet it seemed he’d found someone else to annoy. The sound of laughter made your grip tighten on your cup as you stared at the glass bottles lining the walls of the bar. Focusing on an old-looking bottle of whiskey you slowly traced the label, pushing aside the jealousy which seemed to run your blood cold.

“Hey. You're gonna burn a hole through that bottle if you keep glaring at it.” Sam nudged your shoulder with a small smile as he looked up from his laptop. You hummed turning to face him, your back now fully turned to the source of your annoyance.

You took another sip of your drink, glancing down at Sam’s notes - oblivious to his sudden confusion. He watched you for a moment longer before looking over your shoulder. Dean was leaning against the end of the counter and caught up in a discussion with Jo. He strained for a moment trying to make out what they were talking about - he was pretty sure it was hunting. That was all they really seemed to talk about.

He looked back to where you had now closed his notebook, noting your tense shoulder as you finished your drink. “You know you don't have anything to worry about?” He raised an eyebrow.

You looked up from your drink. “I’m fine Sam.” 

Sam shook his head saying your name quietly. “You look like you're trying to blow up the bar with your eyes alone.” He squeezed your arm. “He’s just happy to meet someone who has the same interests as him. He’ll get over it.” He smiled before stretching and quietly excusing himself. 

You watched him go with a small wave before turning back to your now empty glass. You glanced over ever so often, your heart squeezing slightly as you watched them. You knew you had no right to be jealous. Dean wasn’t yours, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was allowed to talk to other girls - hell he could flirt with them - but it still didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

You’d both been so close for so long that you’d grown so used to his constant attention and to have it yanked away left you reeling almost.

“You're thinking again.” A poke to your shoulder. “We’re in a bar you're not meant to have deep thoughts.” Dean slipped into the chair previously occupied by Sam, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Where’s Sammy?” He flipped through the notebook for a moment before turning his body to you. His leg brushed yours, taking place on your stool's footrest. The touch sent a small rush through you as he looked around for a moment. “I think he went for a walk.” You nodded.

Dean hummed turning back to you. “Want another?” he gestured to the glass before pulling it from your hand. You shook your head watching as he pushed the glass away slightly. His fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned slightly closer. “You're being awfully quiet.” 

“I’m tired. A lot’s happened.” You pursed your lips as your eyes found his. He grinned, the same one which made your heart swoon. “You wanna go back?” He squeezed your hand. “Sam won't mind.”

A small look of concern passed through his eyes as he studied your face for a moment. Not noticing any major signs of exhaustion he relaxed slightly. You smiled. “I'm fine Dean.” 

He nodded before blowing out a breath. He cast a look behind him, and his other hand made a small gesture. You caught the movement from the corner of your eye turning to see who he was talking to. 

That rush of jealousy seemed to return as you spotted Jo only a few feet away. You narrowed your eyes noticing something grasped behind her back. Turning back to Dean he had taken to rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “How dead am I if Ellen finds out I agreed to help Jo with her shooting.”

You tensed but quickly relaxed your hand, sucking in a breath through your teeth. “Remember what my dad did when he caught you sitting on my bed.” A small smile played on your lips at the memory.

It had been completely innocent. You’d both been 15 at the time, and your crush only starting to bubble. Dean had agreed to come with you to get some things from the town and had been sitting on your bed while you’d been getting changed. Your dad picked that moment to ask if you could also pick up a package for him and had almost seen red when he’d found Dean in your room.

You were pretty sure you saw actual fear in the older Winchester's eyes that day as your dad had chased him out.

Dean nodded. 

“Worse.” You smiled. “She doesn’t want her in this life Dean, you need to respect that.” 

He sighed. “I know but…It doesn’t hurt making sure she can protect herself.” He brushed his foot against your calf. “Cover for us? Ellen likes you.”

Your face dropped slightly. Truthfully the idea of them being alone sent you spiraling almost, especially the image of him helping her, his arms wrapped around her as he-

You pushed the image away taking a breath. Dean watched you, sensing your internal conflict but for the wrong reason. He brushed his other hand across your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll take you to that dinner you like. Hell, I’ll pay.”

That managed to pull a small laugh from you. “You’ll pay with your fake credit cards? What a gentleman.” Dean rolled his eyes nudging your foot with his. “Shut up. You are ungrateful you know that right? I’m offering you free food here.” 

“Okay. I’ll cover for you but don't be too long.” 

You left it at that, not adding on how you simply didn't want him to be around her for too long. You weren’t stupid, you saw the stary-eyed look she had whenever he was close to her. Hell, you’d been a victim of the same charm.

He squeezed your hand one last time before pulling away. “Thanks, Sweetheart.” His lips pressed to your head for a moment, nothing more than a platonic gesture (You really wished it was more) before he made his way over, a small smile sent over his shoulder as you watched them go.

Turning back to the bar you placed your head into your hands. Your heart was crumbling for a man you weren't even with. You knew it was stupid, you and Dean had only ever been friends - only ever would be friends. Yet the last few months things had changed. He’d changed.

Passing glances had become longer, touches more deliberate.

Yet deep down you knew it was only your overthinking placing meaning behind his actions. Your heart continued to want more and that wanting only led to it being broken over and over again.

[bernardsbendystraws]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎  mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 2: 

Don't look too close, Mr. Wrinkles.

Time flew by fast as soon as we had made it to their house. Although it wasn’t a mansion, it was perfect. It was homey. Family pictures everywhere, loads of blankets, and even a dog. 

The dog, Trevor, had immediately caught my attention. I had always wanted a pet, but I never had the resources to have or to take care of one. 

Animals have always held a special place in my heart. It was just unconditional love. Animals never expect anything in return, they just want to be around you. 

“I’m starting to think you’re more interested in the dog.” Chris jokes. 

We sat on the ‘L’ shaped, off-white couch. Nick laid on the short side by himself while Chris and Matt sat on either side of me. Chris had slumped down completely, his back practically resting on the bottom cushion of the sofa. 

Trevor laid in between Chris and I. He was soundly asleep, snores quietly escaping his mouth. I looked in admiration down at the dog. He looks so at peace. 

“Do you have any dogs?” Matt asks. I shake my head, mumbling a ‘no’ under my breath. I hear a loud snore, looking over to see Nick completely passed out. Matt and I turn to look at each other silently laughing before turning to see Chris in the same predicament, completely passed out with drool falling out the corner of his mouth. 

“Wanna see my room? That way we can talk without waking up the children.” Matt jokes. I silently laugh, following him as he starts walking down the hall. 

He opens a white door, gesturing for me to go in. I walk in the room, shocked to see what lies before me. A black bed frame with autumn-colored, silk bedding and a brown comforter neatly laid on top. 

In the corner of the room closest to the door, is a PC set up. There is a nightstand on either side of the bed. One has multiple stacks of stuffed animals while the other holds a water bottle and a small glass bottle. On the walls, multiple framed pictures of a silly bear doing odd things are hung. 

“I love your room.” I state. I hear his light laugh echo in the small room. He sits down on the edge of his bed, holding a stuffed animal shaped like a pug.

“Oh my god, it’s so cute!” I exclaim, pointing to the stuffed animal. “Here, his name is Mr. Wrinkles.” He offers. My jaw drops before my mouth shifts into a smile. I take the stuffed creature, admiring how well-loved it appears. 

I had only gotten two stuffed animals in my whole life. The first was one my mom had gotten before I was even born. It was a brown moose. I loved it dearly. I had gained such an attachment to it that I had started bringing it everywhere. 

One day, I brought it to school. I was never popular, most kids didn’t want to be my friend. All the parents pitied my family, talking about us in hushed voices. 

Kids weren’t kind. It wasn’t their own fault, though. Most learned from their parents. Most of the parents always told their kids not to invite me over because it would ‘kill the mood.’ They assumed if they got close to me at all, the second my mom died responsibilities would fall on them. 

I used to be really angry at the kids in my class. Sometimes, I still confused my anger and directed it towards them. But, I didn’t even know what was really going on. How would they have possibly understood? 

I had taken the stuffed moose to school for show and tell. Two of the kids had told me how ratty and ugly the stuffed toy was, saying it looked like a dirty play ball. Then, that’s what they did. Before I could object, they were kicking it at recess in the mulch. I had gotten a grip on the toy, but not before one of them tried to rip it from my grip.

I held on though. I held onto it for dear life, which in the end, resulted in stuffing flying everywhere. The sound of fabric ripping still haunts me to this day. 

Reminding me, no matter how much you hold on, it’s never gonna be enough. In fact, me holding onto the toy may have resulted in the destruction sooner. I could’ve brushed the wooden mulch off. If only I weren’t so needy, it would still be with me to this day.

When I had gone home to show my dad, he was crying. I told him what had happened. It was the first time something bad had really happened. He was smoking cigarettes, multiple thrown on the concrete stairs in front of him. He had just gotten back from visiting my mom in the hospital.

I showed him the torn fabric. His tear-filled eyes showed me no mercy. His own sadness shifted to anger. 

“There’s more important things to worry about than a dumb fucking toy!” 

His words hurt, but so did the burn from the cigarette he put out on my arm. As soon as I let out a yelp from the pain, he snapped out of it. Whatever trance he was in, whatever cloud of judgment disappeared in an instant after hearing my screams. 

I had never seen him, no matter how low he got with alcohol, pick up another cigarette again. Thinking about the moose had been long gone after that occurrence. After all, I had more important things to worry about. 

 The second was free from school for a Valentines-day party. It had been right after my mom died when I was still in elementary school. I was going through a tragic loss, seemingly alone. A stupid brown teddy bear with a red bow made all my problems seem okay for a moment. 

But that moment disappeared the second I got home. My dad had come home from work, not bothering to acknowledge me before drowning himself in alcohol. I had been too far gone in my own world with my bear to notice him come into my room. 

Until he stumbled, throwing up all over the stuffed bear. 

Part of me thought he did it on purpose. He was upset that I was somehow smiling. Another part of me realized, maybe I shouldn’t be smiling? What did I have to be happy about? I didn’t bother cleaning the bear. I had more important things to worry about, including helping my dad sober up enough to go to bed without choking on his own vomit. 

I wasn’t even 10 years old. 

I shake the depressing thought off. Bringing myself back to reality, I place the stuffed pug back in Matt’s hands. “Do you have any stuffed animals?” He asks. 

“No, but I wish I did. Trust me, I’m not judging you.” I promise. He gives me a firm nod, setting the stuffed toy in the middle of his pillows. 

I walk around the room, stopping in front of the glass bottle on the nightstand. It’s small, an amber-color, and has a fancy label that’s definitely not written in english. “That's my cologne. I saved up forever to get it, but I love it so much. You can smell it if you want.” He offers. 

I tilt my head looking down at the bottle. “I’ve never even had a perfume, to be honest. I’m scared I’m gonna break this trying to open this.” I laugh, placing the glass on the table in its original position. 

“Really? I thought girls always did, plus you smell really good-wait, sorry. I’m not smelling you, I….I…I-” Matt stutters. 

I look over, watching as he chews his fingernails anxiously, eyes darting from each corner of his room with furrowed eyebrows. “Matt, it’s fine. I think I’ve smelled this on you earlier anyway, pine and spices, right?” I question. 

Matt visibly relaxes, his body falling with a sigh. “Oh-uh, yeah.” He admits. I smile, nodding. 

The sudden opening of the front door paired with cheery voices averts my attention. Matt gets up as I follow behind him. Walking back into the living room, a woman and a man walk into the home. 

“Missed my boy!” She says, pulling Matt into an embrace. She’s around my height, a bright smile displayed on her face proudly. Matt puts his arms around her. “Hi, mom. This is Y/n.” He says, gesturing to me behind him. 

“Hi, you can call me MaryLou! This is my husband, Jimmy.” MaryLou says, gesturing to the man standing beside her. He looks up from his phone with a clueless look on his face. “Wait what? I’m her husband, yeah, whatever she said.” He remarks. 

I laugh softly to myself at his behavior. Matt looks down at me, mouthing ‘sorry.’ I look up at him with confusion. A pair of arms engulfed me as I gasped. 

She’s hugging me?

The feeling is foreign, but nice. Her warm arms feel nostalgic, almost. I let my arms go under hers, patting her back as she pulls away. 

As soon as she pulls away, she is greeted by a sleepy Chris who practically falls on top of her. I admire the interaction. Chris’s relaxed stance is met with her tight embrace. I can almost feel the love from the interaction just from watching. 

Trots of soft paws sound on the floor. I look down, watching as Trevor nudges at MaryLou’s ankles. She pulls away, crouching to meet the dog. She massages the dog's ears to which Trevor responds with a snort of contentment. 

Everything I’ve ever wanted, standing right in front of me. The parents, the dog, the home…but I didn’t feel envious at all, I felt welcome. It felt like a blessing all on its own just to witness the scene in front of me. 

“You should stay for dinner!” Jimmy suggests, coming up and placing a hand on my shoulder. I tense under his grip, his fatherly touch giving me a sense of bewilderment. 

A father’s touch is something I never felt comfortable with. I couldn’t even remember hearing my dad say ‘I love you.’ Rough hands that feel so gentle until something goes wrong. 

His hand falls from my shoulder as I let out a nervous laugh. “I should get home soon, thank you for the offer though. I really appreciate it.” I say. 

I look up, meeting Matt’s confused eyes. His eyes are squinted at me, analyzing me. I feel a weight on the back of my shoulders, looking over to see Chris leaning on me. I laugh, noticing his disheveled appearance. “Get a good nap?” I tease. 

“Would’ve been better cuddling with my little Matty.” He jokes. Matt shakes his head, looking to the floor as he covers his face with his hands. The giggles erupt from my stomach, so much so to the point where it hurts. 

After calming down, Matt shakes his head, looking down at me. “I…actually, I really don’t know what to say about that.” He admits. His laugh makes me laugh. Chris leans further onto me, my knees giving out as we both fall to the floor laughing. 

Every time I think I’m close to calming down, I hear Matt. His laugh echoes, completely contagious and adorable. Little squeaks escape his mouth at the end of each chuckle. My heart flutters at the sound. 

“What are you weird fucks laughing about on the floor?” Nick asks. I look up, seeing him rub his eyes with an unentertained look on his face. Chris, Matt, and I all exchange looks in a dead silence. However, the silence is soon consumed by the giggles once more. 

_

After calming down, we made our way outside into their backyard. I immediately admired their garden, to which MaryLou explained nearly every plant adorning the soil beds. It was mostly barren, given the seasons were just now turning from winter to spring. 

Nonetheless, the neatly organized garden impressed me. I never liked the winter. All it brought was hassle after hassle. The cold nipped at my skin through the thin, worn blankets during the night, keeping me awake. 

“There is that snow storm coming next week, but then I was planning on doing my spring gardening. I’d love some help if you’re interested!” I immediately nod my head at MaryLou’s offer, smiling at the invitation. 

She walks back inside, leaving the four of us scattered on the outdoor furniture. Nick and Chris had sat in the individual chairs, leaving Matt and I to share the swinging couch. My legs didn’t touch the ground sitting, but Matt’s did. I was grateful for him kicking his feet to move us with a soft rock. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? I can take you home right after?” Matt offers. Nick and Chris are too caught up in their own argument, not paying attention to anything else. I look down in my lap, glancing at my phone. 

6:30 P.M.

No texts, no calls, no nothing from my dad. Did he even notice I wasn’t home? 

“You should! I mean…I really don’t mind driving later, unless you have a curfew or something.” Matt rants. I purse my lips to the side, debating my options. Starve or eat? Take care of him or take care of myself? Come home to a semi-drunk/sober man or fully blacked out man?

“I can’t…not tonight, maybe next time? Thank you though, I really do appreciate the offer.” I say. He nods in acknowledgment. 

All of their phones ding in sync. Only Matt whips his out as the other two brothers look towards him. “Mom wants help with dinner. You two go help and I’ll drop you off?” He asks, directing his gaze to Chris and Nick and then shifting it to me. 

A chorus of ‘yeahs’ are heard as we all start to get up. We make our way into the house, the loud laughter and giggles echoing. 

“Staying for dinner?” Jimmy asks, a hopeful look on his face. 

I shake my head as Matt grabs his keys. “I’m gonna drive her home, be back soon.” He says. I wave to his parents as they give me a friendly smile, returning the wave. 

How do I feel so welcomed in a home that’s not even mine? 

-

As soon as Matt had asked me for my address, I realized a problem. He was gonna see where I lived. Would he judge me? Would he still even wanna be my friend? He seems so sweet, but maybe that’s only for people like him, who just want to be true teenagers and have the life in order to fulfill that. 

I put the address into his phone, my hope dwindling as we get further from the big, beautiful houses. The soft music playing in the background eases my anxiety. The sun is past set, but the sky wasn’t tremendously dark. Hopefully he just won’t see. 

As he pulls up to the front of my house, I turn to thank him quickly. “Thank you so much, I really did have fun-” I say, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. I go to shut the door. “Wait!” He yells. 

Oh god. 

He’s gonna ask. ‘Is this really where you live?’ I can practically see the words forming in his head. Well, I actually can’t because I’m staring at the ground, but I don’t have to see to know what’s coming next. 

I pause in my stance, waiting for him to continue. “Yeah?” I urge, my palms starting to feel sweaty. “Do you want me to show you how to catch a Pokemon?” He asks cutely. 

Oh.

He remembered I wanted to know? I feel the smile crawl on my face as I meet his child-like grin. “Please.” I reply. I sit back down in the car, pulling out my phone and handing it to him. 

“Okay, so,” he starts. “-you want to create a character, but you can change it all later for whatever you really want. But-you’ll get here,” he says, flipping the screen to show me. I nod my head in acknowledgement, watching him as he catches a character with ease. 

He hands the phone back to me. I grab it, seeing another cartoon animal close by. “Click it!” He encourages. I click on it, throwing the ball the same way he had. After catching it, I clap my hands in excitement. 

“Good job!” He says. I turn over looking at him with a tooth-rotting grin as our eyes meet. I can feel his excitement pour into me, feeding into my own even more. My ears grow hot as I realize I’ve been staring too long. 

“Sorry.” I mutter, looking away. My mouth closes as my cheeks painfully heat up. There’s a console in between us, plenty of room, yet I feel like I’m suffocating in him. 

I look down as I see him move from the corner of my eye. His hand places itself on my upper arm, rubbing slightly before pulling away. “Don’t be sorry. I have someone to nerd out with now!” He announces with a proud smile. 

“You know,” I chuckle lightly. “You were the last person I would’ve thought to be a nerd based on what everyone says.” I say. He shakes his head, letting out a laugh. “What did you expect? An asshole?” He jokes. 

I bite the inside of my cheek, nodding sheepishly. “Honestly, yeah. Especially after the first block. You seemed…I don’t even know. I really thought you had left because you had to sit next to me.” I admit. 

“No, no, no, no, trust me, that was not the reason why. If anything, I’m really glad I’m next to you out of all people.” He says. 

My heart flutters at his words, a pooling sensation of butterflies swarms in the pit of my gut. He makes me feel…excited? But not in the way I had been excited for anything recently. The last time I had felt like this was when I was a kid, showing my mom my coloring page. 

I thought maybe that feeling had died down over the years. Holidays didn’t feel as special. Food didn’t seem to taste as good. But this? This brought me back to something I couldn’t even remember. 

“I really had fun hanging out, thanks for everything.” I express. The wind creeps in through my cracked open door, his hair moving slightly around his eyes.

I wish I could capture this moment for the rest of my life. I analyze his face, taking in every detail possible. His teeth are slightly crooked and yellow, but his smile is perfect. His cheekbones create a shadow down, carving out his features beautifully. 

Imperfect yet perfect. 

“Of course. I really hope we didn’t scare you too much. I’d love to hang out more.” He says. I smile, nodding, not trusting my words to form coherently as the butterflies flutter all over, a massive flood of nerves crawling over each part of my body, electrifying me. 

A loud slam is heard, drawing my attention. I look over, seeing my dad with a glass bottle in hand. He stumbles and leans on the door frame. Pure embarrassment floods my body as I grab my backpack once more, rushing. 

“Uh…thanks again, see ya, drive safe!” I say, closing the door and walking fast up to the door. 

_ 

I hadn’t spared Matt a second glance after turning around. I literally couldn’t. I had helped my dad into the house, him pulling on my hair in order to grasp onto something. It wasn’t intentional, but it really fucking hurt.

I had moved him onto the couch, on his side. I brought a trashcan out, placing it up by his head as he muttered compelte nonsense. My head throbbed.

I went to the kitchen, looking for medicine. Instead, I found a reciept. 

‘Vodka (Quantity: 3) Total: 25$ [5-2-24]’ 

The cheap shit, but the date read today. Twenty five dollars on alcohol. I turned around, opening the fridge to find it empty except for the plastic sandwich container. It was empty. 

I look over to the couch, watching him groan and shift in pain. I’m trying so hard not to hate him sometimes. I slam the fridge shut, going back to the kitchen cabinet that creaked loudly. 

I grab down the bottle of medicine, sighing at the light and quiet bottle. I screw off the cap, finding it empty. I sigh, placing it down on the counter. “Dad, we’re out of medicine.” I mutter, shaking my head. 

He moans, looking up but not focusing on me. Can he even see me at this point? “Fuck, this hangover is really gonna be a bitch than. I don’t have anymore money for the next week, I had to call out of work since I was sick.” 

Sick? No part of me believed him. Anger bubbled when he complained about his hangover. My head fucking hurts, I’m starving, and I’m supposed to have enough energy to take care of him. I pull out my phone, sighing as I feel the tears sting in my eyes. 

I hated doing this. It was my least favorite thing on the planet. Asking for help. 

I clicked on the contact, typing a quick message. I walk outside, sitting on the cement stairs with my head in my hands. Headlights pull my attention upwards as I watch the car park. 

“Thank you.” I voice, grabbing the bag from her hands. 

“Of course, wanna talk to me?” Mrs. Evans asks. I shake my head, grabbing the medicine bottle and dry-swallowing two pills. “He’s-he’s getting better, just…not all progress is linear.” I lie. 

She pats me on the back, rubbing soothingly with a sympathetic smile. “Okay, but I’m here if you need anything, okay? I could even use a babysitter for Hailey, if you’re interested?” I don’t look up at her, simply nodding my head. 

“Okay, I’ll text you details. Text or call if you need anything, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” She says, walking back off to her car. 

I walk back into the house with heavy feet. My chest aches as I see my dad leaning over, throwing up into the trashcan. 

I’m so sick of this. I’m so sick of him. I can’t help him anymore, I can’t. 

The tears fall down my face as I place the grocery bag on the kitchen counter. I walk up to his room, looking for the bottles. One is already opened, laying on the side of his bed on his nightstand. I pick up the glass bottle, wanting nothing more than to shatter and break it. 

I pour it out the window on the already-dead grass. I look around for the other two bottles, finding one under his bed and one in the closet. Do I even bother throwing them away? I hesitate for a second, but grab the both of them and pour them out in the same spot. 

I take the bottles out to the trash. I throw them in, hearing the clink of glass as they bump against the graveyard of other bottles. 

_

My head still throbbed when I woke up after a long night of tossing and turning. I look over, seeing the time on my phone. Fuck, I needed to leave ten minutes ago. 

I get ready quickly, rushing down the stairs to see my dad passed out on the wood floor. He needs to be at work soon. I bend down, shaking him awake as he groans loudly, holding his head. 

I grab the medicine and some water, holding it out for him as he takes it from my hand. He swallows the pills, grimacing painfully. “Fuck, I can’t go to work.” He mumbles. 

My ears feel hot, the tears clouding my vision. “Of course you can’t. I can’t fucking believe you sometimes.” I spit. His eyes snap up towards mine, guilt ridden behind his eyes. 

I’m not helping, I’m making it worse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know you’re trying.” I express. He just shakes his head, clenching his jaw. “It’s fine. Just get to school.” He grits through his teeth.

At least he doesn’t have enough money to buy more bottles. 

_

I walk faster to school, a light layer of sweat coating my forehead by the time I walk into my first class. I open the door, all eyes snapping towards me. I make eye contact with Mrs. Evans who gives me a pity smile, making my chest feel heavy. 

I walk to the back of the classroom, not looking up once. I sit down, feeling him lightly swat my thigh to get my attention. I look over, his eyes gleaming into mine questioningly, analyzing me. The class is dead silent besides a video playing in the background. 

“Are you good?” He asks, leaning close enough that I can smell the pine and spices. I breathe in the scent, my shoulders relaxing slightly as I recall last nights events at his house. 

I nod, shrugging my shoulders. I pull my lips into a tight line, looking back down into my lap. I pull out my phone, my hair creating a barrier around my phone.

[From Dad: Did you throw out my fucking bottles? I don’t know how you expect me to provide food when you can’t understand I’m trying to get better, but you make me feel so incapable. You make everything fucking worse. Stop going through my shit.] 

I see the tear drop onto the screen, leaking from my eyes. I wipe my eyes, my hoodie sleeve dampening with a wet stain on the wrists of the sleeve. I can’t do this anymore. 

I gather my stuff quickly, pushing the class door open and letting it shut behind me. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t even go back to my house. 

“Hey!” 

I feel a tug on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I turn around, seeing Matt looking down at me with a somber look. My ears grow hot as I try to keep the tears at bay. 

I pull myself from his grasp. “Go back to class, Matt.” I state. I hear his footsteps rush until he walks next to me, keeping pace with my fast walk. 

“Are you okay-sorry, that was a dumb question actually.” He says, his voice going softer. I slow down my pace, realizing I have no where to go as we reach close to the side doors of the school. 

My chest tightens as I start to feel completely stuck. Where do I go? How do I even breathe? 

I don’t even realize I’ve stopped walking until I feel him tug on my hand. He pushes the side door open, walking halfway up the staircase before sitting down and pulling me down next to him. 

The side stairs are always completely empty. No cameras were ever placed in them, making it the perfect stoner spot. The smell of weed still lingered in the air, making me scrunch my nose with disgust. 

“-need to breathe, okay?” I look up at him, confused. His words seemed drowned out by the ringing in my ears. “It smells so fucking bad, oh my god. I might throw up.” I remark. He laughs lightly at my statement, pulling our bags off to the side. 

“Here.” He says. He pulls me into his arms. Pine and spices cloud my sense as I feel myself take a large inhale of the calming scent. His embrace feels secure, tight but not restricting. It feels like MaryLou’s hug from last night, maybe better. 

“This is the most I’ve ever been hugged in 24 hours.” I joke. I let the tears fall onto his grey crewneck, breathing deeply as I allow myself to return to a regular breathing pace. 

“What? You’re kidding, right? I can’t even go an hour without Chris hugging me I don’t think.” He says. I nuzzle myself further into his chest absentmindedly. I freeze, realizing how weird it must be. 

“Oh, sorry.” I apologize, embarrassed. I feel my ears burn at the tips, my cheek flushing past a pink hue, straight to a firey red. 

I go to pull back, but his arms tighten around me. “Don’t apologize, you’re fine.” I swallow thickly at his words, tears clouding my eyes once more. His words feel like a missing piece to a puzzle, giving me a sense of comfort that is overwhelming. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” He questions, rubbing my back. The word home stings slightly. I wish he had just said house. 

I shake my head in his chest. “No, I can’t-uh, I can’t go home. I’ll be fine, I just need to clean myself up before going to our next class. I’ll meet you there, I don’t wanna make you miss anything else, sorry.” I say softly. 

He pulls me back by grabbing the tops of my arms. He looks down at me, shaking his head. “Don’t say sorry. Want me to take you back to my place?” He jolts his head back, cringing at his choice of words. “Not like that, fuck-sorry. I meant, I was gonna go home anyhow, do you want to come with?” He offers. 

I squint my eyes up at him, watching as his lips tug into a reassuring smile. “Um, no. You don’t-” he cuts me off. “Trevor is there, come on! We can do whatever you want.” He raises his eyebrows, his smile growing wider. 

“Well, I can’t say no to Trevor, I guess.” I joke with a small smile. His teeth show as his own grin spreads further on his cheeks. 

_

“Wait, here.” He says, holding out a flat hand. I cock my head, setting my phone in his hands. He laughs at me, “No, give me your hand.” He suggests, laughing lightly. 

My eyes widen at his offer, my stomach fluttering with excitement. He wants to hold my hand? Noticing my hesitation, he sets my phone down in the cup holder, grabbing my hand in his own and setting it down on the center console of the car. 

His hand envelopes mine perfectly. His rough hands hold my own so softly. He squeezes my hand in his own, “Hey, relax. It’s just me.” He reminds me. I take a deep breath, letting it go with a sigh. 

It’s just him. It’s just us. 

_

“What would you like to do?” He asks as we walk into the home. 

I shrug my shoulders, taking off my shoes. “I can’t even think to be honest. I really don’t know.” I admit, looking down at my worn shoes with shame. 

The back of the inside of the shoes is heavily worn. The cushion no longer present as the back of my ankle aches with raw skin rubbing continuously. I pull up my socks, hiding the red skin. I go to stand back up, but a wet nose touching me makes me pause in my position. 

I greet the dog, “Oh my god, hi Trev!” I say, using the same nickname Matt had said yesterday for the dog. I pet Trevor, rubbing his ears as he nuzzles into my touch. He waddles off and back to his dog bed, laying in the sunshine that peeps through the window. 

I look up, seeing Matt holding out a hand to help me up from the floor. I take his hand, dropping it as I brush off my bottom with my hands. “Said you can’t think, right?” He asks, turning to look at me from over his shoulder. 

I squint my eyes at him, nodding my head hesitantly. He guides us to his room, opening the nightstand drawer. He pulls out a notebook that has a pen clipped in the spiral binding. He holds it in his hand, gesturing for me to turn around. 

I do so, watching as he walks in front of me with a purposeful stride. I follow as he opens the back door, waiting for me to walk through. “What are we doing?” I question. He shuts the screen door, coming up to walk next to me. 

He guides us to the swinging couch. I sit next to him, folding my hands in my lap and fiddling with my fingers. “Well,” he sets the notebook down in my lap. “When I can’t think, I just write everything down until I can. A bunch of random words, sentences that make no sense…it just helps me clear my mind.” He explains. 

He scoots closer, our thighs brushing together just barely. He opens the book in my lap to an empty page, clicking the pen and putting it in my hand. “I don’t even know where to start.” I confess, looking at the intimidating blank page. 

He shifts to the opposite side of the swinging sofa, reaching down and pulling my feet onto his lap. I lean against the pillows. He shrugs, “Just let it all out until you feel better. It doesn’t have to make sense.” He shares. 

I place the pen down on the paper, watching as the ink spurs out into a pool. I drag the pen, writing and spilling each word that crosses my mind. 

Not good enough.

He won’t get better.

I can’t live like this anymore.

The page fills up more and more as I get lost in the words in front of me. My mind starts to feel lighter, my chest lifting with ease. I click off the pen, reading over the words. 

Coming back to my senses, I feel his hand manuevering on my calves. He rubs up and down, his hands leaving me more relaxed. The swing is moving forward and back, my breaths coming out as if I were somehow asleep.

“Done?” He asks. I nod my head, closing the book and handing it back to him. He takes it, tossing it on the table in front of us before leaning back. His hands continue his previous actions as I pull my hands up my sleeves. 

“I won’t read it, just so you know. I’ll even let you rip it out if you want to.” He offers to which I smile. I shrug my shoulders, giving a soft shake of my head. “How do you feel?” He asks, looking at me with intent. 

I let my chest rise and fall, looking up at the pale blue sky that mirrors his eyes. “Better, thank you.” I express. His thumb rubs circles into my skin. 

“Of course.” He says. I furrow my eyebrows, looking down at him, tilting my head to the side. “How did you know that would help? How did you even figure that out in the first place?” I ask. He shrugs, looking down at his hands on my legs. 

“I, uh, I go to therapy a lot.” He answers. “I have anxiety, it’s why I leave class so much.” He continues. 

“Do you like therapy?” I ask. He looks up at me, nodding his head. “Yeah, it’s really helped. I would honestly tell everyone to try it out.” He remarks. 

I wasn’t stupid, I knew therapy and doctors all costed money. Insurance was shitty, I barely could get a yearly check up without an insane copay. 

“You know, I would never had expected ‘bad boy,’ Matt Sturniolo, to be so…genuine? You’re reputation really does you no justice.” I retork. He laughs, looking down and back up at me. “Well, I hope I can give you a real perception of me. I’m really not a ‘bad boy.’” He jokes. 

I shake my head, crunching up to be in a sitting position. He looks over at me, observing every detail of my face. I don’t shy away from his gaze, I don’t feel like I need to. I feel myself wanting him to look closer at me. 

Look at me. 

“You know,” he starts. “This,” he says, pointing to a spot on my neck, tracing a line and touching pointedly on two spots. “-this looks just like a smiley face.” He remarks. 

I grab the spot on my neck, feeling the area. It was the birthmark on my neck, hardly noticeable. I didn’t even notice it until later in life. The birthmark was a cured line under two freckles. I had always been insecure about it, thinking it looked like a poor stick-and-poke tattoo. 

“A smiley face?” I repeat with a grin. He nods his head, brushing his fingers over the area. He leans closer, his hand pushing the hair back as he looks at my neck with a soft smile. His pale blue eyes glance up to mine.

He looks in between the both of my eyes, his hand resting on the back of my neck. “It’s really beautiful, you’re really beautiful.” He says softly. I feel my body tense at the eruption of butterflies swarming through my veins. 

He laughs, not breaking eye contact with me. His hand on my knee rubs reassuringly. “Relax.” He directs. I flush with embarrassment, looking up at his fluffy hair, too ashamed to look in his eyes. 

“Thank you.” I mumble, trying to keep my lips in the tight smile. His hand moves from the back of my neck, rubbing down onto my shoulder. His fingertips trace in light circles, causing me to pull my chest further into the cushion. 

I look down back into his eyes, feeling as if I’m glancing at art. Something too heavenly to think is real. His finger intertwine in my hair softly. I grimace at the sensitive ache in my scalp, his hand dropping immediately with a look of concern. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull your-” “You’re okay, I caught it in a car door earlier.” I lie. He nods, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Fuck. I don’t even have access to any car or even have a garage. He knows I walk to school.

I bite the inside of my cheek, looking to the side as I push down my knuckles, hearing the crack. 

“Want to watch Lemonade Mouth again?” He suggests. I smile, looking back over at him with a urgent nod. He laughs, standing up and holding out a hand. I place my own in it, letting him help me up from the swinging sofa. 

[psychemochanight]

What do u think about golden retriever Dick Grayson? U know he being a ray of sunshine

Huh, I actually think about Dick like that-

But, not in the sense of him being a fool who just smiles at everyone and would hug a cactus just to think he's lonely- I think people popularized the term to describe such characters and make them brainless.

I will always consider Dick a golden retriever or a ray of sunshine... With the implication that golden retrievers are extremely intelligent hunting dogs, and that ray of sunshine from the right angle can burn the shit out of u.

I think there's become a black and white point of view that people think if Dick becomes a cheerful, kind character, he loses all his seriousness and depth... When he can be (and he is) both-

He can be a character known for his cheerfulness and kindness, and still be extremely calculating and capable, as well as being serious when he needs to be and having moments where he is not cheerful 24/7. One thing does not take away from the other-

I feel like Taylor's run had a lot to do with this rejection, because it wasn't just that Dick was too """soft""", but there weren't many points of depth... Too many things happened, but they were resolved so quickly that you didn't have time to process it. Also, even though things happened... It doesn't feel like the character has learned anything, he remains exactly where he was. It's as if Dick had already been perfect and didn't have to strive to be better. Hence many began to use the term related to Dick of this run.

So... Do I like Dick Grayson being a golden retriever? Yup, pretty much... As long as it's a real golden retriever and not just a stuffed animal.

[cruel-as-sin]

tag game!

i was tagged by @wchswift (thank you so much for tagging me! sorry it took so long lmao)

favorite dog breed?

mini lab (this is just bc the dog that i am an uncle to is a mini lab. i love her sm and miss her dearly)

favorite cat breed?

probably persian!!

favorite reptile/amphibians?

frog.

favorite fandoms?

x-men, star wars, marvel, critical role, six of crows/shadow and bone, genshin impact, once upon a time, hugh jackman, taylor swift… there’s probably more

favorite characters?

i’m just gonna do my top character from each one of the above: logan howlett (obviously), this was a close one but ahsoka tano, steve rogers, vax’ildan (i prefer him in the campaign over tlovm), jesper fahey, albedo, killian jones, and leopold!!

what’s your current special interest?

oh x-men for sure. i talk about x-men any and every chance i get, i wrote an essay on it last semester that my professor said i could turn into a thesis (and i highly considered it), i got one friend into x-men and have been planning to get multiple others to watch it with me, and i have another friend who is a fan who i've had over to rewatch the movies and give commentary on them. the x-men brainrot is crazy and has not really died down at all since it started in august lmao

what’s your current normal interest?

i'm gonna say music. am i normal about it? no absolutely not, but like, i'm not normal about anything so… either that or hanging out with my friends!! i love my friends :D

if you dyed your hair, what color would it be?

i would honestly love to have some navy streaks through my hair (i actually tried to do this in my freshman year and it did not work), or just straight up black would be fun too

favorite color?

navy blue!

no pressure tags (if you’ve already done this i’m sorry lmao): @lostinlovingrevery @rosenclaws @flowersforbucky @lubdubology @wlwloverwrites @sweetverine @sacredsorceress @ctrlaltsob @cenviswasteland

[rosetintedfever]

old habits die screaming

hello sanders sides fandom.

i cannot draw anything other than logan im SORRY i love him so much. anyways :3 i was stuck doing finals yesterday and i got bored inbetween sooo!!!! i was inspired by his playlist (ofc) specifically erase me by ben folds five and what i do for u by ra ra riot!!! also some taylor swift songs like the black dog (specifically the line “old habits die screaming” ofc for the title) but yeah!!! i used to watch this one speedpainter on youtube and i remembered how they drew eyes so i was like “i wanna try that” and this is the result!!! so sorry for the inconsistent style but here we go

okay enough rambling here’s the alt versions. also @thatsthat24 :3

okayyy thanks for viewing!!! pls reblog if you like :3

do not repost onto other sites!!!

[ceratedfish24]

Thoughts on Scott and Impulse?

Hello Anon! Sorry I took so long to answer this one. I have strong feelings about Scottpulse, so I wanted to be able to answer this ask in a way that conveyed my feelings properly. However, with traveling to and from Thanksgiving backing up a couple of asks and then going straight into my exams afterwards, I haven't had a lot of time to think this one through.

Scottpulse is the physical manifestation of a warm hug. Those two are fairy lights and pillow forts and the default hosts of Friendsgiving for the Americans.

Impulse would get caught up in how pretty Scott is all of the time. He can't wrap his head around how Scott looks so beautiful in every lighting at every angle. He's just so photogenic all of the time. Impulse isn't a big picture taker, but he takes most of the photos Scott posts on social media. Now, Scott knows that he's pretty. He better be pretty. He puts a lot of effort into looking nice, and he enjoys the attention. However, Impulse is so earnest about how gorgeous he finds Scott to be, and it's his sincerity and emotional vulnerability that makes Scott coy.

Scott is the type to have a panic attack during a horror movie, while Impulse acts tough and big and strong. Meanwhile, Scott is totally calm and comfortable during True Crime shows, while Impulse is completely horrified the whole time. Impulse is all "this is REAL LIFE!! You hate the fictional ones, but this is REAL" and Scott's like "yeah but sometimes it just be like that :)".

Not a day goes by where Scott isn't blown away by Impulse's technical knowledge. He loves to watch Impulse work, and Impulse loves to talk Scott through what he's doing. Scott thinks that Impulse's intelligence is so very attractive, even though Scott, himself, has absolutely no idea what's going on the whole time.

Impulse has talked on the Imp & Skizz podcast about wanting to get really into decorating his home for the holidays, especially since he still has young kids. I can imagine Scott being so excited that Impulse wants to decorate and asking Impulse to make a list of everything in his vision. Then, Scott and Impulse buy some of those big blow-up decorations and DIY a bunch of decorations. They're very proud of it.

Additionally, I've seen some art of Wild Life Episode 7 Impulse in blue and orange as a superhero costume, and it's the same shades that Scott picked for his Transporter New Life SMP character, which is also a character that teleports and swaps places with people. All I'm saying is.... boyfriend clothes :)

Most of the time, Impulse is pretty mild when flirting with friends, but I think he would be a very romantic partner to Scott. It might not be entirely in his nature, but he knows how much Scott really appreciates a big gesture now and then. The first time Impulse set up a big thing, it was a romantic dinner with Scott's favorite scented candles, a home cooked meal he knew Scott would like, and a nice bottle of wine. He wore a black button up with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown dress pants. Scott very much had a "am I being seduced right now" moment when he walked in.

Elle (Scott's cat) and Prim (Impulse's dog) love each other. They're attached at the hip. They always greet both Impulse and Scott whenever they get home regardless of whether or not Impulse and Scott have come home together or separately.

They fret over each other like mother hens when one of them is sick. "What are you doing out of bed?!" "Here, this will boost your immune system." "If you need anything, text or call me immediately. No problem is too small. It's what I'm here for." Homemade soup is their love language.

Impulse loves Pitch Perfect and Taylor Swift. I know Scott loves Taylor Swift, and I have no doubt that he's a Pitch Perfect fan. They would listen to Pitch Perfect and Taylor Swift songs all of the time.

Socially, Scott and Impulse are Yin and Yang. Preferring to spend a most of his time with one or two people, Impulse is a little on the quieter side, while Scott tries to spend a little bit of time with everyone. Combined, they get ALL the gossip.

I don't know how to explain this one, but I just feel like the curtains in their bedroom are dark purple and completely opaque. I am extremely set on this headcanon for no reason. I will die on this hill. Sunlight shines in through slivers between the curtains, creating hard shadows that really bring out the colors of the room in the morning. In contrast, Impulse's hair is so soft under Scott's fingers.

I cannot explain why, but I am extremely dead set on their colors being royal purple and gold. That's their wedding color theme. I literally cannot fathom them as any other colors.

Thank you for the ask!!🩵🩵🩵

[dovesdreaming]

hello my love! i saw call it what you want on your song prompt list and immediately thought it would work so well with our dear bucky barnes! also your blog looks so cute im in love!

Call it what you want (to)

Hi!! Thank you! And thank you for this request I loved writing it so much, bucky was who I was picturing when I put it on the prompt list so I hope I did it justice! (especially since I think Bucky is quite a complex character) If you want a version relating to more of the lyrics instead of just the necklace line I am down to do that!

Warnings: none + reader doesn’t have specified race picture is just for necklace!

Bucky had been through a lot. Everything he once knew as reality was ripped away from him . When he joined the avengers he had to start his life from the beginning, he had no belongings and no sense of self anymore. This meant that when he got new possessions he became protective over them not wanting to share them in anyway, he was resource guarding.

His most protected item of them all were his dog tags, the only connection he has to the man he was before hydra. He wore them around his neck at all times, grabbing them between his fingers as a soothing action when he’s in a state of panic. His real name dented into the metal: James Buchanan barnes. Yet when you entered his life he couldn’t find it in himself to be as protective of them anymore. He used to bat peoples hand away when they reach for them during conversations with him. Yet when you sat with him and took them between your hands he didn’t feel anything but love for you. His heart increased ten times when he saw how much love you had for past him and present him. It healed parts of his well-being he didn’t knew he needed to heal.

Bucky even surprised himself when he had put the dog tags round your neck when you both had been cuddling in bed catching up on one of the many movies he had missed. He had been hesitant to touch you within the start of your relationship but you both took it slow, you understood what he had been through and never pressured him. You didn’t react much when he put the tags round your neck you only smiled lovingly at him, slowly leaning in to peck his lips. Bucky never took his dog tags back and they became your soother in moments of panic having a reminder of bucky close by. He fell impossibly deeper in love with you that day he gave you them and everyday since. He got to see his name round your neck everyday but it wasn’t a possessive thing, no he didn’t own you but it was a reminder that he really knew you inside and out and you the same for him. He would runaway with you any day if you ever asked, he would follow you to the ends of the earth.

Extra scene:

Bucky like the look of his name round your neck so much that he went out and bought a necklace that had the initial j on it. He organised a fancy dinner in your favourite restaurant on the balcony over looking the city at night. You didn’t need to say much to each other anymore you both knew near enough everything about each other. Most of the date was spent with small talk and comfortable silence while holding hands over the table, staring into each others eyes. When it neared the end of the date Bucky pulled out a black box and slid it across the table to you. You slowly opened it to reveal the perfect little necklace to match you dog tags. Bucky got up and tied it around your neck for you, moving any hair that was in the way. He told you that it was his version of a promise ring, that he promised he would spend the rest of his life loving you if you let him. With the mix of champagne and copious amounts of love from Bucky you were overflowing with happiness, content with where life had taken you. You knew that Bucky hadn’t given you the necklace as a sign of ownership to other men, he gave it you because he really knew you. You didn’t need to save each other anymore, you would runaway with him any day.

Thank you for reading!

[fairy-writes]

THE STORY OF US

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Reader

Word Count: 4k (PLS READ, I’M BEGGING YOU)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Pretty Heavy AU (idk what to call it tho), Female!Reader, Time Traveler!Reader, Time Traveler!Dazai, Reader is shorter than Dazai

Taglist: @underthetree845 | @nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

Notes: I don’t know what I’m doing

VERY HEAVILY RIVER SONG INSPIRED (find my quotes lol)

I might write part two from the Reader’s POV (don’t get your hopes up tho, I’m notoriously bad with writing part two to things, but if I get requests I’m more likely to do it!)

I just now realized that the title is also a Taylor Swift song, but I don’t wanna change it

Also, I’m just saying this now, this is not every scene I had in mind. A lot of scenes got cut for my sanity. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Osamu first discovered he could time jump when he was eleven. 

It had been an accident, really. Well, maybe not a complete accident. Osamu wanted to escape everything—his parents' arguing, their fights. But, of course, he had nowhere to go. As an eleven-year-old boy, there wasn’t anywhere that would hire him. He had no other family that wasn’t across the other side of the world. 

He was completely and utterly alone. 

The shouting was reaching its peak. Osamu shoved his pillow further over his head as if trying to suffocate himself as his mother screamed something at his father. Something about his lies. 

Ha. If only she knew how much Osamu lied. 

Lied about his day at school. (Anything to get her off his back.)

Lied about having friends. (Anything to make them not suspicious.)

Lied about everything. 

The screaming grated on his ears through the pillow, and he ground his teeth until his mouth hurt. 

Couldn’t they just shut up? 

Couldn’t they just go away?

Suddenly, something was different. Osamu felt a tugging in his stomach. It was as if someone wrapped a string around his middle and yanked. Almost like he was being squeezed out of a tube of toothpaste.

And then he could hear… water? The sounds of a river that should not be audible even through the open window. Did they even live near a river?

Osamu peeked out from the pillow over his head and was blinded by sunlight. He sat up and realized his pajamas were covered in scalding hot sand. Golden sand stretched for miles and miles, a long twisting river just visible in the distance. On the horizon, he saw pyramids being erected high into the sky. 

What the hell?

And the rest was quite literally history.

December 31st, 1925

New York City

The air was cold. Snow fell in flakes as Osamu watched the snow fall outside the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as he paid no mind to anyone around him. He had aged since his first trip through time. Though he could never remember how old he was. He looked to be in his early twenties, but everyone looked so different in different time periods, so he could’ve been thirty, and that would’ve made sense. 

“Mind if I sit?” Comes a sweet voice. He looks to his left and sees you. 

You’re dressed to the nines in a silver slip flapper dress with black beads decorating the length of the gown. Your hair was cut in a neat bob, a feather headband decorating the up-do. The kohl around your eyes only accentuates the pretty color. 

Osamu plasters a grin across his features, and you shift. He gestures grandly to the stool beside him, 

“I could do with a gorgeous woman’s company.” He quips, and you laugh good-naturedly before sliding onto the stool beside him. He can feel your warmth through the woolen fabric of his suit coat, and he takes a sip of liquid courage, suddenly feeling somewhat hesitant to talk to you.

There was something about you. Like you knew all Osamu’s secrets already. 

You lean your cheek on the palm of your hand, smiling with ruby-red lips and brilliant teeth that were ahead of their time. 

That should’ve been his first clue. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Where are we at now?” You muse, and he frowns as he sips at his whiskey. This was one of the only bars that still sold alcohol through the prohibition. 

“Sorry, I’ve never seen you before in my life.” He says, and you cock your head, eyebrow raised, as you pick at the seams of your silken gloves. You abruptly stop picking and reach into your clutch purse that rested in your lap, pulling out a worn notebook he didn’t recognize. It was well-loved, with pictures stuffed in between the pages. 

“So we haven’t done France yet?”

“France?” You lean back giddily and hold your notebook to your chest.

“What a night that was! Dancing in front of the Eiffel Tower? That ring a bell?” Osamu shakes his head. 

He had yet to go to France. In all his time jumping, he hadn’t seen the point in going to France,  much less the City of Love. 

Now it was your turn to frown, flipping through your little notebook, and he spies neat handwriting in various languages. English. Japanese. German. Latin. And were those Egyptian hieroglyphs? All throughout the pages, he spies his picture scattered across the ink.

Just who were you?

And why do you have all those pictures and drawings of him?

“What about picnicking at Versailles?” 

Another shake. Another page turned.

“The Titanic? What a messy time that was!”

“What is that?” He eventually asks, and you quickly flip it shut before he can actually read anything. 

“Spoilers.” You say quickly, and when he arches an eyebrow, you sigh, call the bartender over, and order a glass of champagne. The two of you wait in silence until you get your drink. Eventually, you speak after you’ve downed half of your champagne flute. “It’s all of our adventures. Time travel gets complicated, doesn’t it?”

As soon as he connects the dots, Osamu is floored. 

Another time traveler? He thought he was the only one!

It’s clear you pick up on what he is thinking because your face falls. You look heartbroken. As if he just ripped your heart out of your chest and smashed it into a million pieces. As if you were a lonesome star falling from the sky and drowning in the sea.

“You truly don’t have any idea who I am, do you?” Osamu shrugs, 

“Who are you?”

Osamu didn’t know it was possible, but you looked even more upset. Tears welled up in your waterline and smudged your kohl as it dripped down your cheeks. You swallow thickly and sniffle, pulling a handkerchief from your clutch to dab at your watery eyes and ruined makeup.

For whatever reason, Osamu feels his heart ache. 

“I suppose this was bound to happen sometime.” You say eventually, and he looks over at you from where he had just downed the last of his whiskey. You’re leaning both of your arms on the counter, running a finger around the rim of your champagne glass.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and you huff, look at him out of the corner of your eye, and your finger stops

“We always meet out of order. Hence, the diary. But… I just never expected it to hurt this much.” You sniffle again, and Osamu realizes he wants to make it better. He realizes he doesn’t like to see you cry. 

But he doesn’t even know you!

Why should he care if you cried or not?

“If it’s any consolation… I’m sorry…” He says quietly, and you bark out a laugh,

“There’s nothing to be sorry for! I suppose this is just a chance for me to get to know the younger you.” You sniffle, but that bright smile that makes his heart race lights up your face once again. You seem to think something over before standing and offering Osamu a hand.

“Care to walk with me?” You tease him with a flirty wink, and he finds himself unable to say no. 

So, as the clock chimes closer and closer to midnight, the two of you leave the bar, with you each paying for your respective drinks. Osamu offered to buy yours as an added apology, but you just patted his shoulder with a knowing smile and said, “I know you’re awful with money.”

Which… You weren’t wrong. 

Just how much did you know about him?

How much had he told you in the future?

You walk next to him, bundled up in a trench coat not unlike his own and with your hands stuffed in your pockets. Osamu pulls his own (matching) trench coat over his suit coat and slacks and follows you out into the sprinkling snow. You both walk side by side in a surprisingly comfortable silence. At least until you hear people counting down in the streets.

10…

You blink and turn to look at him.

“What day is it again?” You ask, and he looks up at the snow.

“December 31st, 1925.” He replies, and you gape in surprise.

9…

“Y’know, I’ve never celebrated New Year's with time travel and all. Never even had a New Year's kiss.” You muse, watching couples get together on the streets.

8…

“Would you like one?” Osamu blurts, and you nearly trip in surprise. Osamu almost follows suit when you stop abruptly to look at him with wide eyes.

7…

“But you don’t even know me.” You say hesitantly, but you turn to face him nonetheless. He finds himself smiling, a soft, genuine sort of smile.

When was the last time he smiled like this?

6…

“I’m giving my future self the benefit of the doubt and trusting his judgment.” He teases, and you relax, hanging your head with a soft giggle. But you don’t pull away when he slowly pulls you in close to him.

5…

Your coat flaps open, and he sees his father’s initials stitched on the side and realizes you don’t just have matching coats—you have the exact same coat.

When did he give that to you? He swore he’d never give it up to remind himself to never return home!

4…

Your soft arms around his neck catch his attention, and you’re suddenly much closer, standing on your tiptoes in your kitten heels.

3…

His arms pull you close by your hips, and he leans down.

2…

Your noses brush.

1…

The kiss is like the fireworks going off above him. His eyes flutter close, and he pulls you impossibly closer. Your lips are soft with the lipstick, and he doesn’t care that it’s likely stained on his mouth.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The kiss deepens, and you soak up his affection greedily. Like you had been waiting for this forever. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close oh so tenderly. 

Like a puzzle piece being fit into place, his heart sang like a choir in a church.

Were you what he was missing all this time?

Could he finally have this?

Could he—

BANG! BANG! BANG!!

You jolt and fall to the ground as a car screeches around a corner and out of sight.

What?

What happened?

Osamu looks down and feels his heart stop.

You’re crumpled against the cement, blood seeping out of bullet holes in your abdomen. Your dress is ruined. But that doesn’t matter.

Osamu falls to his knees, not caring about the cold, wet concrete soaking his slacks. He pulls your upper half into his lap and applies pressure. You cry out and push his hands away.

“I need to put pressure on your injury. Hold still for me, love.” He whispers to you and turns to where people are still celebrating. “AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!” He cries, but they’re so wrapped up in their excitement that they don’t hear him.

Your hand touches his face, and he looks down to see you giving him a bloody smile. Crimson leaks from your mouth, and he can tell that you don’t have long.

“Hold on—Hold on, I’ll get a doctor—I’ll—” He stammers in an attempt to calm you (himself) down, and you just spit up blood in a choked laugh.

“We both know I’m not going to survive this.” You wheeze, and he can see the color draining from your face as you lose blood and warmth.

“Then I’ll jump back in time! Time can be rewritten!” You cut him off abruptly with more strength than he thought you had.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don’t you dare.” You say, hand falling to grip his hand as tightly as you could muster.

“But you’re dying.” He says, unable to explain why his heart is breaking to pieces inside his chest. You cough once more and smile that brilliant smile that he finds that he loves so much.

“It’s not over for you. You’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come.” You slur your words at this point, and he grits his teeth. Your hand goes weak in his, and he holds it even tighter. 

“You and me. All those adventures all over time. You watch us run!” You whisper, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead just as you close your eyes.

117 AD

Rome, Italy

The crowd roars louder than Osamu has ever heard it. Bored, he watches as gladiators fight in the ring. The arena is bathed in blood, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He hasn’t cared about much since you died. 

He wasn’t even sure why. He barely knew you. But he keeps thinking back to the kiss you shared on New Year’s. He thinks of your words. 

“You watch us run!”

“Is this seat taken?” A voice yells over the crowd, and his heart stutters to a halt. He turns, eyes wide to see you. 

Oh, how cruel this life was.

You’re dressed in a fashionable, long tunic that goes down to your ankles with a shawl of sorts around your shoulders. Your hair is longer than Osamu remembered. It is no longer a bob but instead curled at the front and with a braided crown in the back. You hold that journal under your arm and smile brightly before scurrying over and sitting beside him. 

“Where are we at now?” You ask excitedly, pleased to see him. 

But all he can see is your dead body in his arms. 

Was there some god up above watching this cruel exchange with glee?

What had he done to deserve this? 

“‘samu? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” 

‘samu? 

The last person to call him that was his mother. Before she and his father began to fight. Back before he could time jump.

Back when things were simple. 

Your hand on his arm has Osamu flinching away, causing you to cringe back as well. You look worried, panicked even, and all for him. 

So you didn’t know yet. You didn’t know you were going to die. 

So, he doesn’t tell you. 

“Sorry, my love, I thought you were a monster here to gobble me up!” He chirps, and your panic melts away quickly. You lean back into his side, and he takes the chance to wrap a bandaged arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You giggle and open your book. 

“Where are we now?” You repeat, and he shrugs, 

“You tell me.” He says, keeping his eyes off your book out of respect and on the gladiator games below. 

“France?”

“Not yet.”

“The Wild West? That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Nope.” 

You two go back and forth for a moment before you ultimately sigh and clap your book shut. 

“It’s very early for you, isn’t it?” You say, mildly exasperated. Osamu nods silently, heart twisting when you set your book down and lean heavily into his side. He trickles his fingers along your neck, feeling goosebumps rise along the skin, and you shiver. 

The games end, and you shuffle out of the Colosseum and through the streets of Rome. You boldly take ahold of Osamu’s hand as if this was regular for you. He can’t bring himself to let go, so he instead makes you laugh by swinging your arms between you, occasionally twirling you in a circle. His chilton feels suffocating despite it being made of linen. 

But he can’t bring himself to time jump away. To leave you alone to spare his own feelings. 

Perhaps it’s the overwhelming guilt he feels?

Perhaps it’s because he finds himself enjoying your company. 

Either way, he allows you to pull him around the ancient cobblestone streets of Rome. Enjoying the markets and public museums that were beginning to pop up all over the city. 

The entire time, he doesn’t let go of your hand. 

August 8th, 1912

The Wild West

It’s hot. 

Almost overwhelmingly so. 

Osamu peels off one of his gloves and fans his face with it as he climbs the steps to the little cabin he had been staying at. His bandages itch with the heat, and he has a sneaking suspicion that they’re slowly soaking with sweat underneath his borrowed button-down, vest, trousers, and chaps. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he liked this place sans the heat. The people in this little settled town were kind, barely batting an eye when he suddenly appeared in their home. The people he was currently staying with, an older couple named Buck and Bonnie, welcomed him with open arms. They claimed it was because he reminded them of their son, who was out settling the rest of the West. 

“Osamu? Are you done already?” Bonnie asks where she’s putting a pie on the windowsill to cool. Apple, by the smell of it, and utterly delicious. 

“Just taking a break, Bonnie. Buck works me to the bone!” He says and collapses on the couch, his spurs jingling as he kicks his feet up over the edge of the sofa and leans his head back, tipping his hat down over his face. He hears Bonnie say something, but he’s already halfway to dreamland. 

Despite only intending to sleep for a few minutes, Osamu naps for the better part of an hour. He only wakes up when he hears the whinny of an unfamiliar horse and quick steps up to the cabin door. Then, an excited set of knocks. 

“Can you get that, Osamu? I’m busy with supper!” Bonnie calls from the kitchen, and he calls back, saying that he would. 

Only to come face to face with you. 

It had been ages since he saw you. He had yet to see you at any significant historical events that he time jumped to. The Titanic, the moon landing. Hell, he hadn’t even seen you during World War Two when he was accidentally drafted!

“You!” He jabs a finger, and you grin adoringly, stepping under his arm and skipping to the kitchen. 

“It’s me, Granny!” You chirp, and he hears a delighted squeal. 

“Dearest! It’s been ages!” 

So you’ve been here before. 

Several times by how familiar Bonnie seemed with you. 

Osamu meanders his way into the kitchen, where Bonnie is wiping her hands on her apron. She grins at the sight of him,

“This is Osamu! He’s been helping Buck around the farm for the last few weeks!” She says, and Osamu tips his hat with a wink. 

“We’ve met before.” He says, and you jump up from where you had been sitting at the dining table and throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“‘samu!” You cheer, and he returns any affection greedily, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He’s still unable to get the sight of your corpse out of his mind. But he vowed that if he ever saw you again, he’d accept any love you’d give him. 

You’re dressed the part of a cowgirl. A long calico skirt and long-sleeved button-down. Your hair is longer than he remembered, tied back in a braid, and a bandana around your neck to protect you from the harsh sun above. Your hat sits on the table, and so do your gloves. 

Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. 

It isn’t long before Buck is called in for dinner, and the four of you eat together. You sit to Osamu’s right, with Bonnie to his left and Buck across from him. You chat happily with the couple, and Osamu is content with just sitting and watching. You tell an obviously edited version of your adventures, with grand sweeping gestures and voices to accompany your tales.

Long after Bonnie and Buck go to bed, Osamu finds you on the swinging bench on the front porch. You’re writing in your journal, about halfway full, and sketching a picture of him.

It’s an incredible likeness to his face and rather impressive to look at. You even got his cowboy hat right.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks, and you jump, slamming your journal shut and looking up with wide eyes. But you realize it’s him, relax, your shoulders sagging, and nod with a smile. The wood creaks as he sits at your side. His arm stretches along the back like it belongs there, and you lean into his side. He relished in your warmth.

“Have we done Rome yet?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“I was thinking of going there next, though!” You say, and he nods, leaning his head against yours.

“How come you never go to big events?” He asks next, and you hum with a shrug,

“I like the little days. I like seeing how people live their day-to-day lives.” You say, and he can’t help but laugh. 

You were truly the exact opposite of him. 

You swat his chest, 

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry with mock anger, but a smile curls the corners of your mouth. Like you liked hearing him laugh. You give him pause when you lean up and press a kiss to his nose. He freezes, blinks several times, and stares down at you. 

“I love your laugh.” You say, and his smile falters just the slightest bit.

No one liked hearing him laugh.

Not since he left home, at least.

But you were his home now. 

October 31st, 2012

Yokohama, Japan

Fog rolls through the streets of Yokohama. Osamu strolls the streets, hands in his pockets. He was alone. At least for the time being. At least until you showed up again. 

If you showed up again. 

No… You would… Osamu had faith. You usually did on the small days. 

Whenever his nightmares got particularly bad, he’d time jump to a place he thought you’d like. This time, it was Yokohama, Japan. Notably, it was Halloween. Nothing ever happened on Halloween. Well… except for that one time… 

Oh, whatever. 

He had been here for a few months, finding himself at peace in modern-day Japan. He discovered his parent’s graves and realized he was home. 

At least… when he wasn’t with you.

Until he saw you crossing the street. 

You looked younger than he had ever seen you before. Another young girl walked beside you, both of you dressed in Halloween costumes and laughing amongst yourselves. 

But the longer he watched you, the longer he realized something. 

You wouldn’t know who he was. No, no, no, it was much too early for that. He had never seen you so young before. Not even in pictures when you had shown him at Versailles. 

Was this before you began to time jump? 

Suddenly, a hand smacked the back of his head, and he flinched, turning to see his newest acquaintance, Kunikida Doppo. He was shouting something. Something about being a bandage-wasting machine. Something about being a lowlife. He didn’t bother listening. 

Instead, he looked back to see you looking at him. There isn’t the faintest glimpse of recognition in your eyes. Nary a clue of who he is. 

You genuinely don’t know who he is at this point in time. 

You lift a hand and wave with a friendly smile, unknowingly making his heart crack in two. 

So, he turns, walks past Kunikida without a word, and heads back the way he came. 

“Dazai!” Kunikida’s voice, and he hears his acquaintance (He doesn’t have friends. He’s utterly alone in this world.) running up behind him. 

“What is it, Kunikida.” His voice sounds oddly monotone, and he knows he has to get you out of his head before he breaks down. He can’t ever come back here, not without causing a paradox and ripping Yokohama apart. 

And that would mean he would never see you, ever. 

“Are you okay?” Kunikida’s voice makes him stop. He spins with a plastic smile on his face and his heart threading to pieces. 

“Of course I’m okay! What makes you think otherwise?” He titters with an all too fake-sounding laugh. Kunikida looks uncharacteristically solemn. 

“Well… For instance, you’re crying.” He says, concern seeping into his tone. 

Osamu reaches up and touches his cheek, finding that it is indeed wet and glistening with tears. 

[likeadevils]

if you had to guess purely on vibes, what order do you think the ttpd and anthology songs were written?

i know you said just based on vibes but i wanted all of my opinions to be researched and defensible so this has taken me hours to write. most of these are still opinions though!!

2022/Early 2023: i'm guessing she was mostly working with aaron on new stuff this year, while her and jack were building instrumental tracks and stems, so they could streamline writing while she was on tour if she wanted to. i'm also guessing she did 1989 tv early in 2022 and speak now tv that winter, but that's mostly based on vibes.

UNKNOWN: Clara Bow, Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus (i could see this being recorded later in spring 2023, but it just sounds so 2022 to me), I Hate It Here, I Look in People's Windows (could easily be a post mh breakup song, but this is my list), Cassandra Dec 2022: Instrumentals for Fresh Out The Slammer, Florida!!!, and Guilty As Sin are recorded in New Orleans (FOTS and Florida were confirmed to have their vocals recorded in New York) Apr 12, 2023: Taylor is photographed at Electric Lady, then Aaron shows up to all three of her eras dates in Tampa (Apr 14-16). The songs credited to both Jack and Aaron are But Daddy I Love Him. (implausible given how she and Matty were not publically dating at the time, this would be three days after her and joe announced their breakup) and thanK you aIMee (more plausible imo but still unlikely). If I had to guess I would say Taylor was recording Who's Afraid, but idk she could've not recorded anything and just have been in the studio to be in the studio, yknow

MAY: matty month. i'm guessing she was mostly working with jack, but theres nothing stopping her from working with aaron (until he leaves for tour on may 28 and is gone the rest of the month). i'm also guessing she was planning on recording a taylor's version this month, because fresh out the slammer, guilty as sin, and the alchemy all have christopher rowe credits, who is taylor's main tv collaborator.

UNKNOWN: But Daddy I Love Him, Fresh Out The Slammer (i could also see this being what i call a "wrap up song", which is a song written late in the process about emotions felt earlier in the process, in order to fill listeners in about some crucial detail(s) she hadn't covered in a song. think like, style being the last song written for 1989, or fortnight almost definitely being written in october), Guilty as Sin? (this might've been written earlier, but i doubt it was recorded before late april), Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?, The Alchemy (i'm a "it was originally about matty healy but it fit so well for travis that she decided to retroactively transform it into a travis song" truther, but that can obviously be totally wrong) May 7, 2023: The Albatross (mostly based on taylor and aaron both being in nashville and her officially getting together with matty, but i could see this also being a wrap up song) May 24, 2023: Florida!!! May 31, 2023: The Tortured Poets Department (two photos of her from this day are labeled as "the tortured poets department" and "ttpd" are on her and jacks insta)

JUNE: reports that taylor and matty broke up hit early june. jack leaves for europe in july and gets married in august, so i'm guessing he wasn't super available again until september (she also isnt photographed at electric lady between Jun 28-Sep 5). so i'm guessing the more intense jack stuff was written in june (aaron was def still around though)

UNKNOWN: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, I Can Do It With A Broken Heart, imgonnagetyouback (just based on when GUTS was released, i'm guessing this wasn't written after september 8) Jun 22, 2023: The Black Dog Jun 29, 2023: Down Bad

JULY: seems like aaron time! jack is seemingly in europe, aaron wasn't touring, and he showed up to two eras dates this month

UNKNOWN: So Long London, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, How Did It End? (this might've been written in april, but personally i would need a couple months to be able to process and express this), The Prophecy, Peter

AUGUST: a weird month! aaron is touring (though he is in nashville on the 15th), and Jack gets married on the 19th so i imagine he was busy. taylor was photgraphed in a studio in LA on the 2nd that, as far as i can tell, was not credited on TTPD (i don't have the anthology credits though).

SEPTEMBER-DECEMBER: wrap up time! i'm guessing theres probably a ton more down here, but i erred on the side of songs being written in the moment-- but i don't think she was writing multiple songs a week while on tour from may-july

UNKNOWN: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) (i guess it could technically have been written earlier but it feels too playful to me to have been written pre-september. also the christopher rowe credit makes me think she was recording another tv late in the year), loml (it feels like a june/july song to me but it has a christopher rowe credit and that throws me off) So High School (for obvious reasons) Early Oct, 2023: Fortnight Nov 13, 2023: Us (taylor also played bdilh for gracie that night, so we know it was written by november)

WHO KNOWS: i could see all of these being written in 2022 or 2023

UNKNOWN: thanK you aIMee, The Bolter, Robin, The Manuscript

[tiktaalic]

tortured poets review. by song

fortnight: fine. sounds like a song. one of the lana drag ones. the actual lyrical content is nothing special. i would not have made this track one. 6/10

tortured poets department: kind of exactly what you would expect from a taylor swift album called tortured poets department. it's silly. it's got references. it makes you go. girl? already less distinct musically. 3/10

my boy only breaks his favorite toys: the consequence of doing lana drag is that you listen to songs and go this would be a lot better if lana got her chords on it. fundamentally not a song that i can enjoy from taylor allison swift. a song i would respect in lana of video games fame catalogue once she strips it down. not like head turningly strange like tpd just plain and simple middle of the road. 4/10

down bad: this one is unlistenable for me. cant explain why. probably the chorus of down bad. i think it's tooooooo silly too silly by far when taylor swift does how do you do fellow teens vocabulary. 2/10

so long london: i can see the place that this takes on my spotify wrapped. lyrics are fine. good even. this + backing + doing something even the littlest bit different from soft monotone talk singing makes it one of the most memorable on this album by miles. probably not near the top of most memorable in her hundreds deep bench though. can't think of anything to dock it for but it's no belter. 8/10.

but daddy i love him: yeah okay. i love when she does a silly one. i think the instrumentals are nice. i'm having his baby. no i'm not! but you should see your face. easily i would listen to an album that was full of songs to this theme / musicality. points docked because i dont think she knows it's as silly as it is. 7/10.

fresh out the slammer: bored. i just looked at the lyrics and they're passable but they're performed in the most boring possible manner. stupidest name imaginable. i actually might bump it a point or two if the name was different. 4/10

florida: makes me go yaaaaaay florence every time i hear it. taylor's part halsey 2014 core. could have been worse! if i was in charge of cutting tracks i would keep this one. 6/10

guilty as sin: started it went oh i'm docking this one for boring. read the first quarter of lyrics and went oh this is fine? got to second half and went oh i don't care for this. can imagine a world where it's a better song with different backing and emphasis. 5/10

whose afraid of little old me: i dont think it's good necessarily but i love every song where shes like im craaaazy im insane. i think for the concept it's going for it could have been put together differently. 6/10

i can fix him: i like the way it sounds. but could use more oomph. it's so nice to hear guitars though. don't care for the subject matter. 5/10

loml: snooze. boring lyrics. boring performance. 4/10

i can do it with a broken heart: BAFFLING. easily the me / karma of the album. the tonal mismatch is the point but . well. it is what it is. i would like this more if it WAS a barbie soundtrack release i think. then it would have an extra layer of silly. i think this might make my wrapped. unfortunately. 5/10.

smallest man who ever lived: who gives a shit about matty healy. 4/10

the alchemy: head in my hands. head in my hands. football song. it's so over. and we are never going to be so back. 3/10

clara bow: i like the intro. i can't see myself ever doing more than half humming this. lyrics are whatever. fine, passable. 6/10

the black dog: yeah it's fine. no complaints. guitar 👍. 6/10

getyouback: why would you EVER tee yourself up perfectly to be compared to a better song. 3/10

albatross: oh i liked this one on first listen. 7/10.

chloe sam sophia marcus: outing song ‼️‼️‼️divorce music‼️‼️‼️. nothing too exciting or groundbreaking musically. 5.5?

how did it end: um. it gets points for being #real but not much else. 5/10.

so high school: i think i would like it if it was even a TOUCH less heterosexual. i would cut 3 lines that would turn it into a 6. i can see this song in someone else's hands dominating the radio and me loving that. in taylor's hands i'm giving it a 5/10.

i hate it here: not interesting. next. 4/10

thank you aimee: out of respect for taylor swift's struggles i will withhold comment and rating. -_-

look in people's windows: lyrics aren't bad but it's another one that's not really. doing anything. 4/10

the prophecy: yeah i'll give this one a 7/10. i would have one (1) greige complaint if this was on folkevermore but that's pretty damn solid.

cassandra: passing it and moving on. that's as much as it deserves. 5/10

peter: lyrics get a thumbs up. another 5.5? i could be talked into a six.

the bolter: yes girl commitment issues. 6/10. actually. 7/10.

robin: jesus god this album is too long. i have listened to too much taylor swift tpd to give this any kind of rating.

the manuscript: 5/10. like if woulda coulda shoulda had no beat

thank you for sharing this journey. with me and also taylor swift

[hockeytwittereats]

Track Listing Explanation of the Anthology Tracks in the story told

This is just starting to make sense 11 months later, but 2016 has cropped up hard. *tips hat to @wavesoutbeingtossed who was ahead of the curve on 2016 in things*

The Black Dog: immediate feelings after all the loss written about on TTPD (standard)

Imgonnagetyouback: honestly, feels like this song just needed to be released, but didn't fit in the standard story. Also kind of interesting to see how she views how things were going/ended with someone.

The Albatross: 2016 take 1. She was the one who got herself through that time. She was the one that got THEM through that time. She was the albatross who got them through the fog to safety.

Chloe and Friends: this is like Fortnight sort of but also a bit of Delicate Wait what? Brain got broken that Fortnight is also sort of about 2016 so please chew on that idea that there's two stories in Fortnight being told with one story.

How Did It End? HAD TO BE TRACK FIVE

SHS: Crack of light on the album and in her life

I Hate It Here: how building these worlds made it harder for her to get well and drove her to a different type of the same stuff that happened in 2016. Also kind of peace and the dreamscapes on their walls of it all

thanK you aIMee: this ties well to I Hate It Here and how 2016 shifted things in such a way for her that it led to where she is, but that doesn't mean that she has to hold onto everything she picked up in 2016. In fact, letting it go can help

I Look In People's Windows: what happens when you walk away from things or people? You wonder and you sometimes feel like you're seeing their life from the outside (works well with Chloe and Friends as well as How Did It End?)

The Prophecy: THIS IS WHERE WE TRULY GET COOKING!!!! Taylor is BEGGING for anything to give her what she truly wants (a baby, but also a partner who loves her and marriage) and she will do anything. This desperation is what led to her believing MH, but also the little joke is while she was much more in control, she was probably only willing to reach out to a man with a friendship bracelet and a podcast because even after TTPD she still wanted those things.

Cassandra: THIS SONG ISN'T LOVED AND YET IT IS SO IMPORTANT. It is creepy, it is weird, and yet it is a huge part of why things happened. 2016 would make her pause and replay what happened in her mind. She couldn't move forward from it. The wall was just patched up. She needed to deal with what happened to her then (and again in 2023 I think) to move forward.

Peter: this comes after Cassandra because Peter can only be let go (turned off the light) once 2016 is dealt with. Promises oceans deep/but never to keep=what led to The Prophecy.

The Bolter: all her fucking lives/flashed before her eyes/it felt like the time/she fell through the ice/and came out alive. Like it felt like the times she felt like she had to deal with things she was too young to handle and after it all. All the trauma, she is still here alive (falling through the ice always makes me think of It's A Wonderful Life and George saving his brother's life when they were kids and how when he wanted to kill himself, Clarence showed him how different life would have been if he hadn't been born and his brother died without him there to save him)

Robin: Is about equipping kids for the world while letting them remain kids. This is an excellent followup to The Bolter and perfect before The Manuscript because The Bolter is about someone who managed to pull themselves out and The Manuscript is...well let's go there.

The Manuscript: we see what happens when you fall through the ice before you're ready. She writes about how a relationship when she was 20 changed her and damaged her in so many ways that she had to go back to then to actually get herself to a better place. It was the first time someone promised her kids (and marriage?) and the implication that it would happen if she was good at sex was like...a lot of any age, but especially for a 20 year old who had never had an adult relationship.