#as always back on my swiftie bullshit

[probablygayattorneys]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

time went on for everybody else

she won't know it

she's still twenty-three

inside her fantasy

how it was supposed to be

(right where you left me, taylor swift)

[woulddieforloki]

this song is so Brodinsons-coded

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

Heart of Gold (5 Times Gale's Heart Gives Out And +1 time Ken's Does) Barbed Wire Hearts Universe - Chapter One

God I can't believe I can finally publish this after so many problems preventing me from both writing and editing it, it feels like it's been too long! But here's the next instalment in the BWH universe. Only one chapter written and edited so far, but I'll be updating when I can with more. This is to add some much needed little details and lore for upcoming plot fics in this series.

For now though, enjoy! This chapter is only a short one, just to give the general start to the fic, but following chapters will be a little bit longer as the story continues (and don't worry, the big plot fics will be longer as always haha)

@swifty-fox @onyxsboxes @stoneinyourshoe @carnevol @trashbag-baby666 @slowsweetlove

Ken stared at the little box that Curt was brandishing in front of himself with a raised brow, taking in the self-satisfied smirk behind still fading clown paint from the day before on the other man’s face. He let the exasperated sigh escape him from where it had been building since Curt first showed him the box.

“You can’t be serious, Curt.” 

Curt wiggled the box at him, the item inside rattling gently in response as Curt’s smirk grew. “Oh I’m deadly serious,”

Ken eyed him, judgment clearly written across his own expression as he snatched the box from Curt’s fingers. He looked down at the box, eyes scanning over the words with another sigh, albeit gentler than the one before. 

“You’re gonna give Gale a Fitbit, because you wanna, and I quote ‘record the uptight bastard’s stress and heart rate because it would be funny’?”

Curt shrugged nonchalantly, reaching out and plucking the box from Ken’s fingers with the tip of his tongue caught between his front teeth.

“Yes. I think you’re missing the whole point here, Kenny. Have you seen the guy? Man is one big walking ball of stress, especially around Bucky and his bullshit, and all he says is that he’s ‘fine’.”

“So you just wanna prove him wrong so that you have something to brag about, basically?”

Ken raises one eyebrow at Curt and watches as the other gapes slightly, expression turning chastised but no less mischievous underneath Ken’s scrutiny. A hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Basically,” Curt affirms, looking slightly sheepish, and Ken can’t help the knowing smile that curves his lips. 

“Uh-huh,” Ken hums. He stares down at the box again where Curt is starting to peel the edges of the tape holding it closed with the edge of his fingernail. 

Curt pauses and glances up at Ken through his lashes, scanning over Ken’s face before his shoulders sag and he rolls his eyes.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. Call it genuine curiosity and slight worry for the sake of one of my best friends and his well-being.”

“With bragging rights,” Ken tacks on with his own answering eye roll.

Curt laughs, goes back to picking at the tape again with a wide grin. “Exactly! See? Now we’re getting on the same page here, Kenny my boy.”

Ken breathes out through his nostrils, watching Curt work away at the tape until he flicks the opening flap upwards and starts to extract the packaging holding the little black watch from its confines.

Curt holds it up, like a prize dangling from his thumb and pointer and looks at Ken with no less pride on his face. “You can even hook it up to your work phone so you have 24/7 access to Gale’s heart rate. Just in case there ever is actually cause for concern. It’s got a little alarm setting and everything.”

He waggles the device towards Ken’s face, eyebrows rising and falling in a suggestive gesture until Ken once again snatches it from Curt’s hold.

The little watch is cool in his palm, and he turns it over to observe it before glancing up at Curt again, lips pursed.

As much as Ken wouldn’t put name or face to it, he couldn’t deny that there had been a few times through the course of getting to know the men in their circuit that he had observed and noticed that Gale, in particular, had a bit more weight sitting on his shoulders in comparison to most of the others. 

When he had first met the blond cowboy, all done up in his roping get-up with his stoic steel-hard expression and sizeable buckle sitting on his belt, Ken could admit that even though he wasn’t a competitor himself, that he couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated by the air that Gale often exuded. Especially when in competition mode.

Despite only being a rodeo EMT, it was hard to come by anyone involved in the circuit that hadn’t at least heard of the great Gale Cleven and his achievements in the arena. Coupled with the known talk that the guy was ‘all work and no play’ and advice of ‘just don’t get in his way and you won’t have to worry’, Ken had truthfully dreaded the day that he would have to meet the man and have him under his jurisdiction of care and medical expertise. 

The day he had met him, Ken felt like the world was trying to swallow him whole as he was faced with meeting most of the crew that he would be looking out for and tending to if any of them sustained injuries in the arena. He had shaken hands and introduced himself a number of times, friendly smiles and warmth being directed at him as easy as breathing before the group had all but parted in the tail end of their greetings and Ken was faced with Gale.

The blond cowboy had walked up to Ken with his shoulders straight, blue eyes questioning while also exuding an air of careful scrutinization as he’d looked Ken up and down, and Ken had felt like he was about to be snapped up like a bird between the jaws of a cat and crushed between sharper than needle fangs. 

He’d stared at Gale, not game enough to break eye contact as the other thrusted his hand out in Ken’s direction, still adorned with worn but expensive looking brown leather gloves. The strength and power behind Gale’s grip alone once he’d taken his hand in to a firm handshake was enough to have him shivering in his sneakers. 

But as Gale had introduced himself, Ken had watched as a slight look of warm fondness had broken through Gale’s expression, lips curving upwards in to a perfect smile full of straight white teeth directed at him, and felt his shoulders relax from their timid posture.

“Welcome to the crew, Ken,” Gale had said to him, words soft and sweet and dripping with unintentional charm. “Heard you’re one of the best we could possibly ask for. You might have your work cut out for you though, with this band of hooligans.”

Ken couldn’t help the smile that had slowly crept its way on to his own face in answer to Gale’s obvious attempt at easing his nerves, and he had felt his shoulders sag as Gale had dropped his hand, but feeling no less welcome. 

It was from that point forward that a sort of easy friendship had blossomed between Gale and himself, the terrifying tales of strict and hard-faced Gale Cleven all but melting away in his mind until any time he heard Gale’s name whispered with unease from the mouths of any of the other competitors from different circuit teams made him smirk knowingly. 

The guy was all bark and no bite, as far as Ken was concerned. At least when it was towards his own team, and he had come to realize that whenever Gale would be the first one to comfort or build up the confidence of the other boys without a second thought. 

It was all a structured hierarchy, and Gale had been appointed the unquestioned leader of the group and the overseer to most of the happenings and organizing both between and during the rodeos that they travelled to and from over the course of the season.  

It was with that unsanctioned leadership, though, that Ken could also see the immense strain heaped up on top of the cowboy’s shoulders in the thick of it all. And he would be unhesitant to admit that there had been a few times that he had observed Gale in the quieter moments where the weariness and need to keep on a brave noble façade was obviously eating away at him. 

Especially once Ken realized that the group’s main bull rider John Bucky Egan was more than just a friend to Gale, and every time the man went in to that arena and sat on one of those great muscled animals, Gale turned a few shades whiter every time Bucky’s dismounts were a little less than graceful. 

Ken had also noticed, through several different interactions both with himself and with other members of the group, that as much as Gale would unthinkingly dole out support and softness and strength, that when it came to himself, it was a completely different story.

He had noticed on more than one occasion the cowboy shying away from support directed at him, waved it off with a strained smile or an off handed comment that left Ken with a sour taste on his tongue and a worry settling in deep in his bones like a festering flame. 

As much as Gale gave it, receiving it was a whole other ball game, and was met with such a conditioned resistance that Kenny often wondered what was laying in wait underneath Gale’s carefully composed surface. What scars were carefully concealed under a strong expression.

He was thankful for John in those moments, seeing Gale respond to Bucky’s carefully extended supports more than anyone else, but even then it was barely a sliver of open acceptance to the gentle touch, cards still close to his chest and roped back against him and away from prying eyes.

Ken looked back up to where Curt was still standing in front of him, now holding out the charger for the Fitbit and Ken’s work phone that had been sitting on the counter being waggled in his direction underneath an imploring look. 

He stared at it for a few seconds, mind running through all the pros and cons and the precarious thought of ‘what could possibly go wrong’ cycling through his head, and let his shoulders sag with an exasperated sigh. He tried to ignore the gleaming smile Curt shot him as he took the charger and phone from his hand. 

“Fine,” Ken gave in, switching on the phone and opening up the app store to download the accompanying app that would sync with the watch. “But I’m doing this purely for Gale’s well-being, and to give myself some piece of mind.”

Curt laughed, a smug but joyous lilt to its tone as he walked up to Ken and patted his shoulder. “Yeah you keep telling yourself that, Kenny.”

Ken rolled his eyes, a small smile working its way on to his lips as Curt pressed a loud smacking kiss against his cheek as the other made his way to the door of the trailer, swinging it open and stepping out to leave Ken to hooking up the devices. 

“You’ve still got paint on your face, by the way!” Ken called out behind him as an afterthought before looking back down at his phone. 

He could hear Curt’s laugh echo back to him from a small ways away outside. 

“All part of the charm, baby!”

–

Surprisingly, Gale had accepted the watch from Ken without so much as a second thought, albeit a small look of question directed at him as the watch was passed into his hands. He had turned it over in quiet observance a few times, lips pursed and brows furrowed before he’d carefully pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and fastened it to the surprisingly delicate circle of his left wrist.

Ken couldn’t help the way it lifted a nervous air from his body and mind at Gale so trustingly taking the watch paired with Ken’s words of professional reassurance, and had to remind himself that as much as Curt had palmed the whole endeavour off with the pretense of it being a joke, it also gave Ken some peace of mind to now have a bit more of an insight into the medical signs of one of the most important cowboys in the team. 

He also couldn’t deny that Curt’s curiosity had bled into him as well in the face of the act.

“Can’t say I ever really put much thought in to actually using one of these things,” Gale confessed to him, eyes still curious as he looked down at the face of the watch with interest. The time flashed back at him as he turned his wrist, experimenting with the movement of it a few times. 

Tapping the face of it, the small screen cycled through his steps, distance travelled, energy burned, and finally the rate of his heart, which Ken couldn’t help but notice was currently sitting at a steady 89 as they spoke.

“You can thank Curt for that,” Ken chuckled, pointedly and casually adding in Curt as the culprit as well so he wasn’t the only one being thrown under the bus. “He figured it’d be a good idea to keep an eye on you fellas, your health and what-not seeing as how you’re all meant to be tip top athletes. And you’re one of the only ones who doesn’t actually have one.”

Gale looked up at him, a knowing smirk on the blonde's lips as he quirked one brow. “You mean Curt’s morbidly curious and just wanted something to brag about to John when I blow my top at him.”

Ken couldn’t help but laugh at Gale’s words, the sound punched out of him in surprise as Gale hazarded the guess and got it as close as he possibly could. He had had a feeling long before he’d even set up the watch that Buck would be clued in to exactly what was happening, especially once Ken name dropped Curt in the scheme. 

“It’s alright Ken,” Gale assured him, smile still colouring his face as he winked. “I won’t let him know I’m on to him if you don’t.”

“Sweet,” Ken grinned, holding out a fist towards Gale in a silent ask for a fist bump which the cowboy gladly reciprocated without a second thought. 

Gale gave another small look down at the watch as he let his hand fall back to his side, carefully pushing his sleeve down over it as it went to hide the little device from view.

“I’m actually a little curious myself,” Gale added on as an afterthought. “Might actually come in handy.”

Kenny nodded, casting his gaze over his shoulder towards the arena where Brady and Rosie were currently trotting their horses around in circles around a fake practice rig shaped like a steer. He could hear them laughing good-naturedly as they threw their ropes over it, joking amongst each other in friendly competition as Brady missed and Rosie whooped in triumph, arms coming up high in celebration. 

Jack, Benny and Everett were perched up on the rails watching with smiles on their faces and chatting amongst themselves, Meatball at their feet chasing something in a patch of tall grass against one of the posts. 

Ken pointed his chin in their direction. “This lot seems in a good mood today.”

Gale looked up to where Ken’s gaze was directed, and Ken couldn’t help but note the small fond smile that slipped on to Gale’s expression. Likened it to that of a proud parent looking at their unruly bunch of teenagers.

“Yeah it’s a lazy day today. Figured with more than a week until the next rodeo I’d back off and let them have their fun. Don’t need me breathing down their necks 24/7.”

Ken looked back at Gale with a questioning expression that he hoped Gale didn’t notice. Underneath the pride, Ken could sense a sudden hint of doubt mixed in Buck’s words, smile still evident but more muted as he stared over at the others. His blue eyes were slightly distant, and Ken felt his chest constrict just a little at the sight.

“I’m sure they’ll need your instruction sooner or later with how that’s going,” Ken tried, grinning as he turned to watch Brady expertly lasso Rosie around the middle with the other cowboy’s laughing squawk of offense. Brady’s replying laughter reached them seconds later with a shouted insult barely audible, and Ken could see the fond smile return to Buck’s expression. 

Buck rested his hands against his hips with a gentle sigh, smiling up at Ken before dropping his eyes towards the ground. “Yep, yeah, I’d say you’re right.”

Ken saw a suddenly questioning frown pull at Buck’s brow as the other looked back up towards the arena, eyes scanning over the expanse of it, the stands behind and then flickering around. “Speaking of, you seen Curt or Bucky anywhere since earlier?”

Ken felt his eyes slightly widen in realization as Buck’s words sank in and a pit of innocent fear started to curl its way in to his gut. 

“I can’t say I have, and I don’t know how I should be feeling about that,” Ken confessed to him with a grimace.

Buck blew out an exasperated breath, shoulders squaring as he tipped his hat at Ken with a smile before making his way past him. “Terrified, would be the correct term, I reckon.”

Ken couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at Buck’s words as he watched the blond walk casually over to the others. 

–

The sounds of the crowd spectating the rodeo from a small distance away reached Kenny as he took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke curling its way out in to the air on his exhale in a wispy array of patterns before disappearing into nothing. He adjusted his seat on the step at the back of the med van, the back doors open to reveal the sterile and organized inside, medical equipment stored carefully and tucked away ready at a moments notice if needed while the current rodeo was in full swing. 

This one had been going on without so much as a hitch so far, which Ken and a few of the other EMTs were thankful for, leaving them meandering around outside the van without much to do to occupy their time besides talking amongst themselves or scrolling on their phones to pass the time. 

They knew at some point they’d probably need to patch up a knee or do the mandatory check over for concussions or other types of damage, but they were taking the peace while they could and being lax in the moments they were afforded. 

It left some room for a tiny hint of boredom to thread its way through, but Ken would rather feel that unconcerned drag of time over doing vital signs on a bull rider that got too big for his chaps or be knitting together another cowboy’s split open brow while trying to stem blood flow with a stern hand and hint of exasperation. 

The audience noise crescendoed in to a flurry of whoops and hollers by a few octaves, but being where he was Ken couldn’t quite see what event was currently happening around the edges of the towering bleacher seats. It was only still halfway through the rodeo so he knew that nothing truly spectacular was happening at this point, and he was content to sit, sneaker propped up on the tow-ball of the van and scroll for a few moments on his socials while sucking down the last few dregs of what he guessed was his third cigarette of the day. 

Thought on the disapproving glance that Curt would be sending his way if the other wasn’t currently out behind the bull chutes painted to the nines in clown makeup and baggy shorts and suspenders waiting to run in and save the day once the bull riders were performing.

Also thought on the way the other would tut in disgust but still pluck the still burning cigarette from his fingers before stealing a drag in the face of Ken’s knowing smirk. 

Almost too lost in the depths of his thoughts as he brought the cigarette up towards his lips for another inhale, Ken couldn’t help the way he jumped, startled and nearly losing grip on the burning stick as a sudden continuous beeping blared at him from the pocket of his jacket.

Frowning, he propped the cigarette in between his lips and reached down to clumsily fish what he realized was his work phone from the deep pocket and pull it out. 

It was only when the bright words of warning that the current connected device was picking up irregular rhythms did he also manage to look up in time to see Buck, pale faced and looking a little worse for wear stumbling from somewhere over towards the camp grounds in the distance before leaning one shaking arm up against a telegraph pole.

Distress was obvious in the tense line of the cowboy’s shoulders, shuddering on a deep inhale and face pointed towards the dirt with tightly squeezed eyes, and Ken quickly stubbed out his cigarette in to the grass by his shoe and flicked it away as he half rose, alert.

“Buck! You okay, man?” Ken called out, worry tainting the tone of his voice, hand that was holding the still beeping work phone tightening until he could feel the plastic creak underneath his grip.

He kept his eyes trained on Buck’s figure, worry seeping even further in to his awareness when the other only managed a haphazard glance in Ken’s direction, a gloved hand waving out in dismissal before he turned his eyes back to the ground at his feet, arm falling back against his side.

With a groan of effort, Ken hoisted himself up off of the step of the med van and started in Gale’s direction with purpose. He turned off the work phone, silencing the noise and shoving the device back in to his pocket without a second thought. 

The closer he got to Buck, the more he could hear the ragged exhales the blond was attempting to get under control and see the trembling shudder wracking the other’s taut shoulders.

Ken reached up one hand, resting his palm on Gale’s shoulder and leaning down to try and catch Gale’s line of sight where it was currently still trained downwards, brows furrowed in obvious distress.

“Talk to me, buddy. What’s happening here?” 

The professionalism that bled into Ken’s voice in the situation finally reached through to Buck, blue eyes glancing up to Ken’s face with a blank look that morphed into a humourless smile for a second or two before falling again. 

“‘m fine, Kenny,” Gale huffed, shoulder trembling more violently underneath Ken’s hold for a fleeting moment. “Don’t gotta get all serious on me, now.”

Ken chuffed out a laugh, a bit disbelieving as his eyes raked over Gale’s shaken form. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing your words aren’t exactly hitting home for me, Chief.” 

Gale flicked a dismissive hand in his direction again, body straightening marginally like he was trying to put Ken’s mind at a little bit more ease if he showed less weakness. It made Ken frown in reply, the minute beeping originating from underneath the cuff of Gale’s shirt where he knew the watch would be reaching his ears amidst the ambient sounds of the rodeo around them.

Gale sniffed, eyes flickering towards Ken again in what he could only name as chastised. 

“Was wondering though,” Gale started, tilting his chin towards his sleeve as he brought up his other hand to pull it back and reveal the Fitbit. “That ain’t normal, yeah?”

Ken gave Buck an exasperated look before turning his attention to the face of the watch, and felt his eyes widen marginally but managed to conceal the sudden unease in his expression so that Gale wouldn’t pick up on it.

Knew he had failed when Gale shot him a frown with accompanying worry reflected in his own eyes.

“I’m guessing no,” Gale grinned, forced and fake as he swallowed underneath the scrutiny of Ken’s expression. 

“No, not so much, man.” Ken answered, simple and direct. He adjusted where his hand was on Gale’s arm, moving it more up underneath in a concealed attempt at support as he tugged slightly. He was still very aware of the shudders wracking through Gale’s frame, the beads of sweat sitting on the cowboy’s upper lip and across his brow underneath the brim of his hat on an ashen pallor. “Why don’t you just come over to the van with me and I’ll give you a quick look over, yeah?”

Gale shot him an unreadable look, but allowed himself to be guided back to the open back of the med van thankfully only a short distance away. 

Ken helped lower him down so that the blond was occupying the seat against the low step that Ken was only on a few moments before, movements a little bit stiff and uncomfortable and made sure that Gale was comfortable before he stepped up in to the van. 

He glanced back at Gale’s figure, reaching out and getting the vitals pack hooked up on the far wall and snatching the blood pressure cuff off of the built in bench as he turned.

Jumping back down onto the hard packed dirt, Ken knelt down in front of Gale who was still looking pale but not as frantic as the younger man started retrieving different equipment from the bag that he sat in front of him.  

Gale eyed everything speculatively with that ever present frown still evident on his face. “I’m fine, Ken. Really.” 

Ken glanced up at him with a strained smile as he pulled the velcro of the blood pressure cuff apart with a stark ripping sound, reaching up to secure it around Gale’s upper right arm with perfect and practised precision. 

“Just taking precautions.” Ken assured him. He started manually pumping the small decompressor attached to the cuff. He unlooped the stethoscope from where it was draped over the back of his neck and lifted Gale’s sleeve up enough to be able to press the cool metal against his inner elbow gently. “Alarm went off for a reason, Buck.”

Gale rolled his eyes at Ken good-naturedly, but Ken could see the hint of worry reflected in the blonde's eyes as he flickered his gaze down to where Ken was listening to the thrum of his blood underneath his skin, wincing at the tight restriction of the cuff around his bicep. 

“Dumb is what it is, I don’t even feel that bad any more.” Gale grumbled. 

A few moments of silence went by as Ken listened intently to Gale’s pulse, holding his breath but allowing it to pass back out in a gentle exhale as everything seemed to be normal at least as far as blood pressure went. 

Pulling the stethoscope away from Gale’s skin, he rolled the cowboy’s sleeve back down to cover cool but clammy skin and ripped off the cuff from further up. “Yes, well, as true as that may be right now, I just want to check you over in case. False alarm or not. I don’t particularly feel like having to explain to Bucky why you keeled over dead from a heart attack on my watch.”

Gale let an amused snort escape him at Ken’s words, lips curving up into the semblance of a smile as he kept his focus on Ken’s rummaging around in the med bag below. 

“Point taken,” Gale mumbled, and Ken felt his own lips quirk up in reply. 

The next few tests went by without so much as a suspicious blip or reading, and as much as Ken was confused, he was also incredibly relieved that Gale didn’t seem to be suffering from anything life threatening. As a small after thought, he reached out and gripped Gale’s wrist wearing the watch gently and turned the face of it towards himself, eyes scanning over the lit up surface and feeling satisfied when no warnings or alerts glared back at him. The heartrate had also gone back to a steady pace, and he let Gale’s hand drop with a sigh.

“Well, whatever was happening, you seem to be fine now,” Ken informed him. He looked up in to Gale’s face from where he was still crouched in front of the other, taking in the now more normal looking complexion and clear blue eyes staring back at him in curiosity and their own brand of confusion. “It might have been just a false alarm.”

Gale sighed, peeking down at the watch hidden back underneath the sleeve of his shirt with a blank look, posture relaxing that small increment more so he was slouched in a lazy lean, an elbow propped up against his knee.

“Fat lot of good a false alarm is,” Gale grinned. One of his hands came up to wipe the remaining perspiration still sitting against the ridge of his brow underneath the rim of his hat. That same hand then rose up to point an unthreatening finger in Ken’s direction, a mock expression of seriousness moulding on to his features. “But not a word of this is to be spoken to Bucky, under any circumstances.”

Ken chuckled, pushing himself up to stand and wincing at the ache that accompanied the movement from being crouched down in the same position for so long. He stretched out his back with a groan. “For once, I do agree with that statement.”

Gale looked affronted, mouth gaping slightly as Ken’s words but Ken could see the humour reflected there. “For once?”

Ken raised his hands in mock surrender, feeling something in his chest warm at the sight of Gale’s barely concealed amusement as he reached out a hand in Ken’s direction for help. Ken gladly accepted, gripping the other cowboy’s hand and pulling him easily to his feet until the other was standing tall and firm in front of him. The other did sway slightly, and Ken held out a hand in concealed readiness in case he needed to keep the other balanced, but in a blink any tilting had disappeared.  

The sounds of the rodeo pierced back in to both men’s awareness, and Ken watched as Gale’s focus turned out towards the arena with a sharp turn of his head, the small smile that was there slowly slipping back into something that Ken couldn’t quite put his finger on. He allowed his own gaze to wander over in the same direction as Gale’s before pursing his lips and glancing back towards Gale’s face. The other looked lost in thought, blue eyes far away amongst whatever was running amongst his thoughts as the sound of cheering echoed across the grounds in a muted distant roar. 

Licking his lips, Ken hesitated for a few seconds before parting his lips and letting the words that were sitting on his tongue escape in to a more simple question than the true ones he had. 

“You sure you’re okay, Buck?” 

Gale seemed to come back to the present at Ken’s words, face whipping back to look at Ken with a blank numb expression before his lips pulled up in to a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Though they were soft as they looked at the younger man.

He reached up and let his hand fall in a friendly comfort against Ken’s shoulder, patting it twice before allowing his arm to fall. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. You don’t gotta worry, Kenny, promise.”

Ken let himself smile back in reply to Gale’s words, but he knew that it didn’t quite reach his own eyes either as the image of Gale only a small time before all but hyperventilating and looking moments from death leaned up against that telegraph pole flashed through his mind in vivid technicolor. He could almost hear the ghost of the beeping of his work phone buzz behind his ears. 

He almost asked again, taking in the way that Gale had suddenly started gnawing at his bottom lip between perfect white teeth until the plush skin was red and looked moments from breaking apart underneath the ministrations, but something squeezed in his ribcage and he swallowed the words down. 

[wannaeatramyeon]

helloo! i've read your previous work for Gun, where you made a oneshot inspired by taylor's cardigan. i was hoping if you could write one inspired by "you're losing me" for Gun again or any other character from lookism that might fit the song. (can it be hurt no comfort?)

Hi anon! Thanks for requesting my fellow swiftie. Uhhh. I'm a little Gun-ed out right now. I've written a few angst Gun fics here, here (the cardigan one) and here. What I will give you, as inspiration randomly strikes at 2am is Eli. Me? Voluntarily writing for Eli?!?!

Eli Jang x Reader: You're losing me

You tolerated a lot, stretched your patience thin, with Eli. Took his issues and baggage on the chin, bonded with Yenna and love her like your own.

What you cannot tolerate is his reasoning, his logic.

The hypocrisy.

Making himself a martyr trying to protect his own family and ruining countless others.

Leaving behind a trail of tears and heartache within Hostel and ruining Warren too.

The Fifth Affiliates is bullshit. You ask him to explain it to you. Explain what he's doing, to help you understand. Each time he tries but you can't make sense of it. The fog just gets heavier, denser; you're lost and trapped without an exit.

You don't know who he is anymore. This isn't the Eli that you fell in love with. Who you followed from J High back to Hostel.

This is someone that you regret dulling your shine for.

Resentment growing each morning as he wakes, avoiding him and pretending to sleep. Even as you watch through half-closed lids the uniform that he puts on, the badge that he pins.

The Workers logo that you can't bear to look at. That stands for everything you hate. Your love dwindles each time he wears it.

For countless nights you pleaded with Eli to reconsider his cooperation with Workers. To actually choose his family. To choose Yenna and You, to choose Sally and Warren and Max and Derrick.

Eli tells you he already is, spitting fire with his words and daggers with his eyes. This is all for his family, for Hostel.

And it feels like a lie you've heard one too many times.

The hardest part, which tells you everything you need to know, is leaving Yenna. The thought of her growing up without you breaks your heart, causes sleepless nights and months of indecision.

You prolong it as long as you can, just for another day with her. To see her grow up a little more. Become the person you always thought she would.

In the end, you know you can't do it anymore. You've given this everything you had and more. You'll be gone by the end of today.

You watch Eli pin that badge on for the last time this morning and you realise you can't even bring yourself to hate him.

You're completely indifferent.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Matty should be proud that every day he wakes up and he fights his addiction. It must be a constant battle and for him to have the strength to do that while dealing with a bunch of idiots on the internet thinking they know his something. I’m so glad he is surrounded by good people. The boys really are the best and that is one strong friendship

I promise you that I am not making this up. I tear up every time that I hear “I’ve not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days and nine hours and sixteen minutes babe/ it’s kinda my daily iteration.”

If it’s on max volume in my headphones?? I’m SOBBING not just tearing up. The words “daily iteration,” HIT ME RIGHT IN THE HEART. think about it for a moment, please! I beg you. “Daily” as in every fuckin day. “Iteration.” Like a repeated manifestation of something.

In other words, he’s saying, I carry this with me. Every. Single. Day. My whole day is about not touching that. The some total of my existence would be compromised if I touched it. The thing I must do, above all else, is not touch it for another day. Anywhere I go, whatever I’m doing, that’s the most important thing of all. And then I get up in the morning, no matter what “iteration” of myself I become, I have not remember one thing must remain constant. I can’t go back to that. Whomever i become whomever else I become, I will always be a recovering drug addict. And my days are counted in how much time I’ve spent trying not to do drugs. That’s what I measure.

That’s beforeeeeeee all the bullshit. Since May, the fact that he kept his mouth shut, performed onstage LESS THAN AN HOUR after some pretty major news/ tabloid articles were calling him the most vile shit, put a smile on his face, connected to the audience to the best of his abilities, and tried to make the show like every other 1975 show? Then got up and did it the next day and the next and the next while EVERYTHING that he has ever done or said, good or bad, is being torn apart? He stayed quiet. He put the audience’s experience first. He kept his head up.

We had bigger fish to fry at the time. Whether it was dealing with the horrific swifties. Or parsing the bullshit from the real legit deserved criticisms. But I think right now is a good moment to say that Matty handled this with grace and he deserves credit for that.

[francesderwent]

WAIT OK SORRY IT'S SUPER LATE BUT you're losing me?

I will accept this late message because I love you, and because “You’re Losing Me” is exactly the song that my original text post complaining about Swifties missing the point was about haha 

the Swiftie lyric: “I wouldn’t marry me either a pathological people pleaser” and also to a lesser extent “I’m getting tired even for a phoenix always rising from the ashes”

the lyric we should be paying attention to: “who only wanted you to see her” and “lose something babe, risk something. choose something babe I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me”

ugh the reaction to this song drives me up a wall. to pull out “I wouldn’t marry me either a pathological people-pleaser” WITHOUT finishing the line?? are you nuts??? because the end of the line gives us so much context!!! he’s not losing her because she wanted to make the whole place shimmer and he wanted to hide and found her people-pleasing ways annoying, no! he’s losing her because all she wanted, the only person at the end of the day that she wanted to please, was him. but actually the song keeps going, it tells us even more as Taylor does what she always does: gives very clear instructions of exactly what he needs to do to dig them out of this hole. and it’s not pay more attention to her, it’s choose her. she said in “Cruel Summer”, we say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying—and he’s STILL not. he won’t risk. but he can’t keep going on in this same way, floating in limbo forever. and so she has nothing to place her faith in, her faith that was always so strong. 

basically what it comes down to is this. the popular reception of this song I’ve seen is so focused on the one pathological people-pleaser line that it’s somehow spun an interpretation of the song as about falling out of love when you’re convinced you’re unlovable. it’s just a shade off from the “what a shame she’s fucked in the head” of “champagne problems”; the blame is turned inward, except for very brief moments where it looks out at him to spit specific accusations “I know my pain is such an imposition”, “don’t you ignore me I’m the best thing at this party” etc.  and I think that’s absolutely bullshit. “You’re Losing Me” is definitely not about pulling away and sabotaging the relationship, and it’s not even about someone doing a bunch of little hurtful things in the relationship. it’s about the relationship dying because one person won’t make a choice about what the relationship is and what it means. it’s Taylor giving the final word on the feminine experience of being taken for granted and strung along. it’s about waiting for someone to commit to you, and they never do. it’s about when you wanted to give everything, but your partner will only ever give a little, so you have to stop giving. to me, this is just clear. and I think the only reason that it hasn’t been taken note of is because the culture wants to go on believing that taking the “step” of living together while always keeping the back door open is somehow “good for the relationship”. but it isn’t. it’s not the familiar violence of being left, “this thing was a masterpiece til you tore it all up”, but it is just as destructive. it just kills you slowly. 

[purpleprincessonfyre]

I'll have a go! Reminds me of those magazine interview questions.

The basics:

Liane Alice Georgina Quinn Felton

21

Aries ♈

Aggressively positive

Very impulsive

Habits:

I overspend when seeking approval

Immediately affectionate around sadness

Turning on the charm when I want something

Dating evil assholes

Being forgotten

Family:

Milton and Elizabeth Felton

Quentin Felton, William Felton, Joshua Felton, Matthew Felton, Richard (Dick) Felton Jr

Seeing Taylor Swift on tour (Yes I'm a huge Swiftie shoot me)

Barbie Dreamhouse (it was custom built and I loved it)

Ooh I gave myself a pretty bad haircut with kiddie scissors when I turned ten and Mom made me wear a wig until it grew back

Definitely my cousin Rochelle. She's like my little sister I never had 💗

Chelley and I once snuck out to go to a concert, she wasn't allowed but we snuck out anyway and when her Dad got mad I said it was my idea and she was off the hook

What they prefer:

Coffee but I try to stick to tea because apparently I get a little hyper?

Daytime. Night showers look cool but I'm an early bird so morning shower

Baths when I don't need to do my hair, showers for washing hair

TV. I fall asleep during movies and miss things. TV however I can watch a few episodes and then switch it off.

Reading. Definitely. Writing is hard.

Depends. I do love Ethan but I also love @finlayholmes in a Platonic way and that's really powerful

*sees Fin reading over her shoulder* Lemonade. Definitely not...iced tea....

Ice cream! I love cookies and cream or cheesecake ice cream, especially in Italy

Cupcakes. They're cuter and you feel less guilty eating a few cupcakes rather than an entire cake

Beach. Mountains look cute but beaches are just better

Favorites:

Long Live by Taylor Swift. That song just brings back so many memories.

Band? Oh uh ABBA. Love Mamma Mia

My signature fit when I'm solving crime. My pleather lavender jacket, plain white tee, skinny jeans or a skirt, my heart shaped sunglasses, my signature gold heart locket and my thigh high white heeled boots. Paired with a hot pink lipstick and my Michael Kors purse.

I know it's cliché but London. The weather sucks but it is kinda pretty even in the rain. Damn you Fin!

Ethan saving my ass in Sokovia in that battle against the robots. I was so mad at him back then but now I look back and smile

Finlay. The first person to call me on my bullshit and then put up with me long enough to become my best friend 💜

It's close but Tangled. Punzie was too cute and Flynn...reminds me of Ethan shuddup

Grey's Anatomy. I'm always on the edge of my seat watching. It's addictive.

Aight I'm tagging The Tower! Your turns.

@askstevella @ask-starrk @ask-missparker @therealdaydreamstark @finlayholmes @thechoooooosenone @wizzzardofoz @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos

@jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @cherrysft @missstrawbs2001 @meiramel

☾ cute character questions ☽

the basics:

name: age: zodiac sign: one good trait: one bad trait:

habits:

one bad habit: one good habit: one habit they can’t break: one they’ve broken: what they’re afraid of:

family:

their parents names: their siblings names: favorite childhood memory: favorite childhood toy: embarrassing story: favorite family member: a story about that family member:

what they prefer:

coffee or tea? showering in the day or night? taking baths or taking showers? tv or movies? writing or reading? platonic or romantic love? iced tea or lemonade? ice cream or smoothies? cupcakes or cake? beach or mountains?

favorites:

song: band: outfit: place: memory: person: movie: show:

[bisluthq]

Can I just say that it's refreshing to come here and see takes of ppl who actually live in reality cos I've been feeling like I'm going insane these days reading Swiftie's responses to that Joe article. Genuinely what the actual fuck is wrong with these psychos😭 how have they made it canon that Joe is a liar, a manipulative narcissist, and a cheater when there's literally zero evidence for any of that? How are they saying that he never talked about her in interviews when he did and there's concrete evidence, granted most of the questions were always super awkward and cringe but like he did?

A bunch of them say they watch Miss Americana weekly (weird behaviour on its own imho) yet they claim that Joe locked her up and forced her into privacy when she literally says in that documentary multiple times that SHE needed to step back from the spotlight? SHE needed the ultra privacy to heal and he met her there. And look it would make sense to me if it was just chronically online teenagers acting this way (who obvs haven't lived much yet and don't know how real relationships irl work) but you see fully grown ass thirty-somethings who are even married and have kids and lives irl claiming the most evil things about this man with absolutely no evidence and it makes me so uncomfortable, like it hurts me how fucking stupid they all are I'm sorry 😭 it's not even about Joe as a person, it's about them being either evil or highkey stupid idk they're obsessed with making him be a horrible villain and Taylor herself DOES NOT CARE like at ALL. If anything, both of them have made it profoundly clear that independently of how things ended, they both walked away of that relationship with lots of respect for each other, for their families, and for what they shared for 6+ years. The least fans could do is respect that stance too but they seem to hate Taylor idk

The craziest part to me is (idk if you guys have seen this, my for you pages are fucked lol) that a bunch of these stans who straight up believe the Daily Mail articles are coming from Joe's team are the ones who also have very good media literacy when it comes to clocking when an article or puff piece is coming directly from MILF Tree Paine, and when it's straight up bullshit. Yet they believe all the straight up bullshit coming out about Joe on the Daily Mail is his team?? So they're using what those tabloids are saying as "evidence" to claim that he's a manipulative narcissist. And they speak of him being a cheater as if there was evidence for that and speak of it as if it were proven fact so when a casual fan is all like "aw it's nice that her and Joe hold no hatred for each other" they flood the comments with "HE FORCED HER INTO HIDING FOR YEARS AND CHEATED ON HER MULTIPLE TIMES" and the casual fan is like "oh shit I didn't know" and like💀💀💀 that just spreads this whole false narrative and what stans don't realize is that it's embarrassing not only them but most of all TAYLOR, who some casual peeps think is legit the one spreading these lies about Joe when it's actually her own fucking fans🤦

Genuinely the only things Taylor has outright said (in her music or elsewhere) is that he was stressy-depressy, that she felt towards the end that he didn't understand her and she had to make herself smaller, and that she cheated on him. Everything else is stans making shit up and like don't these ppl have something better to do than create a fake fanfic character out of this guy who just exists and makes his little movies and does his charities? They don't even have to make this character up bc Matty Healy is right there and Taylor's rage is directed towards HIM not Joe😭💀 they either hate that Joe is actually a decent human being (and genuinely why do they care that much) or they're all just profoundly stupid and if that's the case I'm genuinely worried about that many ppl being so hopelessly stupid bc there's legit THOUSANDS of them wtf

this

☝🏼👌🏼

[sakebytheriver]

As a swiftie with shame who does their best to stay out of literally any tswizzle nonsense whatsoever besides her music I truly and utterly miss the pandemic Folklore/Evermore era, like take me back to that time when girlie just dropped two whole albums without any fanfare or her usual bullshit just two full albums of music that are literally the best work she has ever put out into this world and made my cold dead disaffected swiftie heart full of the promised future for her career that these two random album drops seemed to be telling instead of whatever is happening right now with that pornstache ass football player, like take me back to the moment when girlie flexed her songwriting/storytelling without any of the dumb relationship drama I've always despised about her media presence 😭😭

[subway-tolkien]

So, about Ticketmaster...

I bought my very first concert ticket from them back in 1992, when you had to call or go to a physical location. My parents weren’t willing to go camp out at the TM booth at Tower Records, so I called over and over and over, hanging up as soon as I got the first tone of the busy signal. It was SO hard to get through, and when you did get through you bought whatever they had. You couldn’t really choose your section. You just got what you got.

Buying concert tickets from TM has been a nightmare for the last thirty years. When I followed U2 around on their tour in 1997, it meant dealing with Ticketmaster’s bullshit on a regular basis. It never got any easier. Eventually we learned that going to the venue box office was smarter and cheaper than trying to deal with TM, but that’s not always possible for everyone so TM still held us hostage. TM was fucking Skynet.

(U2 did have a cool method of getting good tickets to fans through their fanzine. They mailed you a form before every tour that you filled out with your shows based on priority and preferred section, sent it back, and in a few weeks you got your tickets. Voila, done. Face value, no fees, just tickets.)

Ticketmaster is a corrupt criminal empire that has been gatekeeping entertainment and the arts for way too long. This investigation is extremely overdue and I hope to god something actually comes of it, because as we saw with Hamilton, with Bono’s recent book tour, and now with Taylor, Ticketmaster has turned the arts into yet another playground for the rich. Just like fucking Disneyland.

I hope this fiasco inspires more artists to speak up and do something, because if they don’t then they’re complacent in the exploitation of their fans and it would be hard to continue supporting someone who doesn’t care if they have legitimate fans at their shows, or rich, beautiful people from social media who just want to be seen and “do it for the content.” One would hope it’s the former, but everyone’s about the exposure now so who even fucking knows, anymore.

Bottom line, this is on artists as much as it is on Ticketmaster. They have the platform and clout to speak up about this and find better solutions.

Anyway, death to Ticketmaster! And thanks to everyone who chimed in to get the Department of Justice’s attention—hell hath no fury like a Swiftie scorned. Dang.

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

So when I was younger there was always someone more vapid and hateable than her, so I never got around to activly disliking her. But her music is very repetitive and most of it is about love, so I never really liked her activiely either, and I never listened to much pop music anyway. But I have a friend @ultimatefangirl94 who's SOMETHING of a swiftie and I must say some of her recent stuff is pretty darn good compared to the crap coming out today, and looking back a lot of her old stuff was better than a lot of the crap coming out at the time, and it still has vibes. Like I used to HATE Love Story because I was Not Like Other Girls and I thought it was sooooo stupid lol has Taylor Swift even read Shakespeare lol but looking back it's kinda a bop and does speak to that desire to rewrite the story and give characters you care abour happy endings. She's a pretty good lyric writer, and I DID like the song she did with ALW for Cats. It's a movie bonus song you actually remember! And speaking of Shakespeare I saw an article once about "Taylor Swift is the millennial woman's Shakespeare" and of course everyone made fun of it, but if you actually read the article not just the title it talked about how she was incredibly good at taking whatever feeling you're having, no matter how petty, or obscure, and distilling them down into the perfect words that would resonate with them, while still having mass appeal, and that's also one of the things Shakespeare did well. It's why the swifties have such a reputation for being overWHELMED by certain songs or lines. And I didn't get it. But hey, anti-hero called me on some of my bullshit so....

Like at the end of the day, you've got to give her credit for being a female musician who's been making music consistently and is at the top of the charts for what, 15 years now? In a world of tik tok trending songs that disappear in a matter of weeks, Taylor's still going. There aren't too many others like her.

There are waaaaaay worse things out there than Taylor Swift.

due to the amount of blogs i follow, the length of time i have had tumblr and the amount of fandoms i have been in, i really see a range of opinions on this over my dash so its time for a poll:

* please be nice to each other in the notes, this poll is purely for my own curiosity because i see such a varied range of opinions of her on this site and not because i want to cause drama!

** im well aware this poll will probably be biased because in my experience, once the swiftie side of tumblr gets a hold of a poll, thats when it gets the most reblogs, so if youre not a swiftie seeing this, please reblog to help get a bigger sample size (thats not to say swifties cant reblog this though, please do!!)

*** i wanted to add more categories cos i get that peoples opinions are more nuanced but im limited by the tumblr poll format lol, so if none of these fit, select the closest option and explain in the tags!

[heroinejinx]

‘I’m a mirrorball’ (Flashbomb AU, part 1 of ?)

This new fic I’m working on (alongside my ‘Like we used to’ series) is set in a modern-day AU Zaun/Piltover, in which Lux & Jinx meet as roommates at Zaun Metropolitan University, and Ekko is Jinx’s best friend & on/off lover. 

Featuring, if I do say so myself, some very cute and occasionally angsty slow burn up ahead, and will be exploring a polyamorous set-up between the three of them later down the line (because, as we all know, Jinx has two hands!) 

I also think each chapter will be based on a song/lyric - this one’s Taylor Swift because Lux is definitely a Swifty at heart, ahaha!

This is meant to mostly be a fun slow-burn romance, but some heavier topics will also be addressed because I can’t help myself & seem to thrive on writing pain--

Mild TW: autism, adhd & bpd

Thank you for reading <3

‘I’m a mirrorball’

She had always loathed her name. Luxanna Crownguard. It was so regal, so well to do and snide. So not who she really was. Who was she, though? She had ideas about who she wanted to be, less about who she actually was deep down. Her dream-self was bold and magnetic, a social butterfly; the kind of person everyone warmed to, understood, and accepted without pause as the golden standard of human-ing. Her dream-self had swarms of friends and fun things to do all the time. Never a dark day. Never lonely or sad or on the brink of a breakdown…

Luxanna had never had any friends. Not real ones. Each would last for a while each time, rarely longer than a year, until they realised that she was just a shell, faking most of their connection. She didn’t know how to be more than surface level and placatory. Sure, she could pretend they had things in common and fake the deep stuff, but people always saw through the bullshit, assumed she was a two-faced bitch, and ditched her.

How did everyone else do it so easily? It seemed like no effort for her brother Garen or the kids she’d grown up with in High Silvermere to keep friendships. Why couldn’t she?

Making new connections was no easier than keeping old ones. She never knew how to greet people or make a good first impression. Those were meant to be key, right? First impressions meant everything, according to her research. But Luxanna couldn’t fake her smiles or force the level of small talk and eye contact expected to qualify a first impression as anything other than uncomfortable, lacklustre, forgettable… unlikeable, even.

People tended to overlook her, like she didn’t quite exist on the same level as others. Like she was less important because she didn’t assert herself. If she were a plant in a verdant garden, she would’ve been a little shrub shrouded from the sun by the dense foliage around her, roots twisted and malnourished, never her time to shine or be noticed. University, she hoped, would be the change she needed; a chance for her to bloom away from the stifling psychological forest she lived in at home. A chance for her to try to become someone new for a while.

Zaun Metropolitan… It wasn’t the dream, or even one of the few runners up Luxanna had crossed her fingers for, but after the last few years, she was just grateful for the opportunity to learn somewhere—anywhere—and get back on track.

Her life had been on pause for longer than she liked to think about. It all got too much for a while, and she just sort of… stopped. Stopped sleeping, eating, leaving the house. It was like she was broken or something. Not fit for purpose. What was wrong with her?

She knew the answer (on paper, at least): Autism with co-morbid depression and anxiety. All that fun stuff that equips you to deal with life so splendidly… She was diagnosed a handful of months prior, after her mother forced her onto a two-year-long waiting list to get assessed and medicated. The whole process caused infinitely more stress than it seemed worth, and all Luxanna got out of it was a diagnosis that neither she nor her family knew how to handle.

Her parents, as busy as they were, left her to figure it all out for herself. It was her brain that was going awry, not theirs, as they kept reminding her. She was the only person who could sit with it and try to ‘fix’ it somehow. They really had no clue what they were talking about half the time (despite the fact that she was pretty certain her mother was also on the spectrum, for reasons too extensive to delve into without the help of a so-called expert).

Her family’s ideas of Autism were rooted in awful media caricatures like The Big Bang Theory and Music, and outdated DSM criteria that only took data from Autistic boys into account. (Never mind the fact that Autism was not a mental health condition, so should never have been in the DSM to begin with…) Whilst Luxanna had hyper-fixated on learning everything she could on the subject, her family still called her high-functioning, and still thought that telling her they’d never have guessed how troubled she was because she hid it so well was the height of empathy and insight. Awesome.

What Luxanna didn’t know about Autism in all its forms wasn’t worth knowing, yet all that knowledge didn’t stop her asking herself what was wrong with her. The same questions pounded in her head every single day. Why couldn’t she just fit in for once? Why did she always act like such a pathetic freak? Why was nobody ever willing to stick around and get to know her well enough to be her friend, for real this time?

The thing was, if she was totally honest, she didn’t think she needed fixing. Sure, she was an outsider, and her manifold issues had snowballed into agoraphobia for a while there which was less than fun, but there were still upsides. There were things she could do that nobody ever bested her in. Ask her to approach a stranger in a bar and she’d spiral into a meltdown, but if you asked her to draw a portrait of literally any famous person or fictional character, she’d blow you away with sheer, undiluted talent.

Art had always been her ‘thing,’ so to speak. Her special interest, in Autism lingo. Ever since she had the dexterity to hold a pencil or paintbrush, she’d been creating little masterpieces. She had greatly honed her skills over the years, especially during the time spent holed up in her room over the summer with nothing else to distract her from hurting herself. Art—creating and consuming it alike—was a part of her nature, as intrinsic to her as breathing.

Zaun Metropolitan, for all its down sides (of which her parents wouldn’t shut up about), offered the best Fine Art course she could find available to someone with her… less than ideal grades. It turned out Autistic nervous breakdowns and studying for your final exams didn’t mesh well. Who’d have guessed?

It was said, mostly by people like her parents, that Zaun was the bottom of the scrap heap, filled with the dregs of society and the neighbouring city of Piltover’s run-offs. But Luxanna didn’t much care for the throwaway prejudices of her small-minded family. In fact, she thrilled at the thought of disobeying them. The university, and the surrounding city of Zaun, was going to be home for the next three years, and she was determined to thrive there.

She’d arrived at around nine in the morning, buzzing like a hummingbird, and had even started to unpack the obnoxious amount of luggage her mother had insisted she bring. It was now just after lunch, and she’d been wandering the campus for about an hour with Taylor Swift’s Folklore twinkling through her headphones, as she casually explored at her own pace, in her own little world. She should’ve known it was a stupid idea to venture out, but she’d been too excited not to. All she wanted was to get outside and breathe in this new world she was a part of.

The campus was quite lovely, studded with trees and patches of fresh greenery, but many of the buildings looked the same, and the more she explored on her own, the more lost she became.

She studied the map that had been given to her at orientation earlier that first day, not that it was much use. Luxanna and maps did not mix, nor did directions, observation, and spatial awareness (traits key to navigating new turf, she lamented). Stood at the top of a towpath lined with hawthorn bushes, with two identical, dark grey buildings up ahead in either direction, she realised how lost she was. The campus may as well have been a maze rigged to entrap her forever with no way of escape.

The plan was to put herself out of her comfort zone, but it had worked a little too well, hadn’t it? What was meant as a relaxed stroll had turned into a disaster, because of course it had. It was her. She was shit with new places. Gods, why had she bothered leaving her room!?

Breathe, she told herself, just breathe… She could get out of this. There had to be a sign somewhere, didn’t there? And she still had the map. Maybe, if she focused hard, she could retrace her steps?

In her haze, she couldn’t remember where she’d sprung from, how far she’d wandered, or what she’d passed on her way. Her dormitory building was a blur in her mind’s eye, an indistinct grey block. It could’ve been a mile away, or round the corner. How the hell was she supposed to know!?

Okay, now she was panicking. The jarringly upbeat Mirrorball in her ears didn’t help, either. She turned her music off but kept her noise-cancelling headphones to her ears. Found a nearby bench to cushion some of her dread as she contemplated her next move.

She’d have to ask someone for help, wouldn’t she? How humiliating. They’d probably give her vague directions, and she’d be in the same situation as she was. Ugh.

She revisited the map. Tried her best to get to grips with it, which wasn’t easy on her best day, let alone when she was so frustrated with herself. She’d have to ask someone to show her the way on the map itself, maybe even have them write it down to be certain she understood. If she gave herself time to calm down, she’d be able to sort it. All in good time.

The minutes ticked by as she sat with her head in her hands, picking absently at the skin around her fingernails, staring down at the muddy ground and the tawny brown leather of her brogues.

Twenty-one years old, and she was still traipsing around in the same kind of shoes she’d worn since she was ten and mastered tying her own laces. They weren’t the coolest or most fashionable shoes, but they were comfy, and her mother said they were ‘sophisticated’ for a girl her age (whatever that meant). For some reason, probably because she was used to them and they didn’t give her blisters, she wore her brogues all the time, with every outfit. They were good quality, too. The latest pair had been bought the previous winter, and they still felt brand-new, albeit a little scuffed around the edges.

Focused on the banality of footwear, her mind lightened a bit, de-fogged. She glanced up at the path, feeling a bit more human. A group of five girls strolled past, all laughing and chattering amongst themselves. Based on their homogenous outfits alone, she could tell they were part of that elite group of normies she so envied. She bet none of them ever got lost on campus.

It seemed rude to interrupt their flow with her stupid questions, she thought. Plus, scary. There were far too many of them for her to approach with any veil of confidence. She’d wait for someone to pass by on their own. Hopefully someone with a pen to hand.

 It was nearly four o’clock by the time Luxanna returned to the halls of her dorm. The cold of outside had settled into her bones, making every step towards her door ache in her joints. She needed a bath, a mug of hot tea, one of her mother’s infamous pot roasts… Well, the halls only had showers, and her mother’s cooking was obviously not an option, but at least she could have a cup of tea. Wasn’t much to ask for, was it?

Most of all, she needed to be alone. The stress of getting lost on campus constricted her chest and itched under her skin. Until she was safely locked inside that room, the ordeal wasn’t over. She needed to wash it all away the only way she knew how: an evening of pure, solitary comfort.

Short of her mother’s food, she’d make herself some cheesy pasta, something stodgy and heartening. Yes. Cheesy pasta, a hot cup of tea, and all the Netflix she could possibly consume. That would do the trick (she hoped). Maybe she’d rewatch She-Ra? It had become the ultimate comfort show to her since bingeing it over the summer. Catra and Adora were just too cute together. Seeing their romance play out the way it did had made her question a lot about herself. She wasn’t ready to think about it. Like, at all.

She fished her key card for the room out of the pocket of her slate grey trench coat, let herself in, and almost ran back outside.

What. The. Actual. Hell…?

There was too much to take in at once. Too much out of place.

First offender: the noise.

Ear-splitting heavy alternative rock blasted from… well, she couldn’t actually tell where it was coming from. The music itself wasn’t bad, she might’ve even enjoyed it under different circumstances, but given the state she was in, it was a complete sensory invasion.

Second offender: the room itself.

Everything inside was different. There were neon green and blue fairy lights draped across the walls, interlacing posters of bands she’d never heard of and horror movies she’d gladly have died before watching. When she’d left after lunch, the room was perfect. Untouched, but for her carefully placed items. A little plain and basic, sure, but a place in which she could relax. In a few short hours, it had turned into a hellscape.

The third and final offender, the real gem in the crown: there was a couple making out on the bed she’d claimed. The half-unpacked suitcase she’d left on the mattress should’ve been enough of a clue to leave it alone, right? Apparently not.

A petite girl with floor-length electric blue braids, presumably her new roommate (woo!), was straddling some guy with bleached white dreads, whom Luxanna could only assume was her boyfriend, right next to the suitcase she had meticulously packed.

Luxanna would never be able to look at that luggage set in the same way, would she?

At least the couple had clothes on, but they were both so engrossed in each other that they didn’t notice Luxanna enter. The girl ground her hips against the guy’s crotch, moaning into his mouth, totally oblivious.

Discomfort curdling her belly, Luxanna slammed the door shut behind her, and the couple sprung apart. The girl’s attention immediately fell on Luxanna; she folded her arms across her slight frame and tilted her head, sizing her up.

The girl’s eyes were almost as vibrantly blue as her hair, flecked with grey, defined with a slick of smudged black eyeliner. Her lips were inflamed from the heat of the moment Luxanna had interrupted, and her brows arched in an irritated scowl. Even frowning and standoffish, she was easily one of the best-looking people Luxanna had ever met. It was hard not to stare while she had an excuse to.

A hideous yet cool oversized t-shirt—embellished with a cartoon Frankenstein-esque blue and green patchwork face, split down the middle by a zip, exposing its skull beneath, with Nova Twins printed below—hung off her shoulders, ripped at the neck, with lacy black bra straps poking out (why did Luxanna notice her bra?). A pair of baggy black joggers and fluffy Baby Yoda socks completed the look.

Awww, was this girl a Star Wars fan? That would be a plus, at least.

Luxanna understood the less than friendly greeting, but her new roommate must’ve been expecting company. But then again, in all her disorientation, Luxanna herself had forgotten about the whole sharing-a-room thing.

‘Who’re you?’ The girl demanded. It was tough to take her seriously in those socks.

‘Must be your roommate,’ the girl’s boyfriend (?) said. ‘Did you forget you had one?’ He threw Luxanna a cheeky grin. ‘Nice to meet you. Sorry about, uh… you know… how you found us.’

At least he was welcoming. Cute, too. Not that he’d be sticking around.

‘Oh, don’t worry about it.’ Luxanna shrugged and forced a smile, wishing he’d leave soon so she could flop into bed. If she could get under the covers, close her eyes, and blast her headphones, she might trick herself into thinking she was alone after all. Fingers crossed.

‘Fine. Whatever.’ The pretty girl rolled her eyes and, out of nowhere, peeled off her t-shirt and flung it at her boyfriend (?).

In just her bra and the joggers, she was breath-taking, with tattooed cyan smoke plumes trailing up the right side of her body. Luxanna had to stop herself staring like some kind of pervert. Looked to the floor instead. The walls. The guy lounging on her bed. Anywhere else…

‘Uh, Jinx, what’re you doing?’ The guy chuckled in disbelief as he batted the t-shirt to the floor.

The girl—Jinx—rifled through the already stacked closet on her side of the room, tossing clothing options onto her bed which, Luxanna now noticed, was freshly made with a set of galaxy-themed sheets. They were cool, she had to admit. Way better than the pink floral blanket clinging to her own mattress.

It seemed like everything about this girl was cool. It was so intimidating. Luxanna’s chest tightened further.

‘We’re going out,’ Jinx said, and flashed a pointed glare at Luxanna.

Ouch. Her new roommate already hated her, huh? So much for a chance at first impressions. But at least if they were leaving, she’d have the place to herself a while. She needed it now even more than before. Something about Jinx’s company made Luxanna deeply uncomfortable. How were they supposed to co-habit as roommates when Jinx made her feel this way? Maybe she’d have to ask to be moved elsewhere?

‘We are…?’ It was clearly the first this guy had heard of Jinx’s plans. He looked back at Luxanna. ‘Wanna come?’

Oh gods, no.

Luxanna smiled as politely as she could and shook her head. ‘No, thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m just gonna eat and go to bed, so…’

‘You sure?’ He asked, eyes bright and kind.

For whatever reason, he seemed to genuinely want her to join them, even though she’d be a third wheel. Probably just being nice, she thought. Besides, even if she was inclined to go along with it, Jinx clearly didn’t want her there.

Better to stay put and watch Netflix as planned. If the day held much more discomfort for her, she’d implode and be no good for anything all week. She wanted to be able to visit at least one Fresher’s fair before she gave up on the idea of putting herself out there altogether. University called for a certain level of socialisation, after all.

‘Positive,’ she said. She just needed to be alone. Everything would be better once she was left alone.

During their exchange, Jinx had done away with the joggers and Baby Yoda socks, opting for an all-black ensemble of a loose see-through mesh top, skin tight crop top and skater skirt, with a neon pink choker around her slender neck and raspberry Doc Marten’s for some pops of colour. The shock of blue from her eyes and hair topped it off perfectly. She was…

Luxanna couldn’t let herself finish that thought. Couldn’t risk it lingering. Swallowed it down.

‘Anyway, let’s go,’ Jinx said, and took the guy’s hand in hers. ‘Come on, Ekko.’

So, Ekko, that was his name. Noted. Luxanna wondered if he went to Zaun Metropolitan, too, but felt too stupid to ask.

Jinx slinked past on her way to the door, eyed her up and down with a snicker, and waited for Ekko out in the hallway. Okay, Jinx really didn’t like her, did she?

Luxanna shivered, feverish all of a sudden. She couldn’t stomach being disliked, especially when it wasn’t based on anything true about her character. Jinx didn’t even know her name but had decided she wasn’t worthy of her time.

Maybe Jinx was just a bitch? A bitchy roommate for her first year of university… fabulous. Ekko seemed lovely though.

He stalled on his way out. ‘Sorry about her,’ he said, nodding towards the hallway where Jinx was waiting for him, cutting him daggers. ‘She’ll warm up to you. She’s just… on edge at the moment.’

A likely story. ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Luxanna feigned. ‘We all have off days, right?’ She suddenly panicked about what time they’d be back, if they were both even coming back that night at all. ‘Uh, when d’you think she’ll be back? Will it be with you, or…?’

‘Oh, nah,’ he said. ‘It’ll just be her. I don’t go here, so, you know, pretty sure it’s against the rules, or something.’

‘Oh,’ Luxanna deflated. ‘So, what about Jinx, then? What time, d’you think…? Not that I mind, I’m just, you know, curious.’

‘Okay! I’m about to leave without you, dude!’ Jinx yelled from the hallway. She sounded pretty pissed off.

Ekko grimaced and rolled his eyes at Jinx’s tone, gave Luxanna a shrug. ‘I honestly have no idea, sorry. Jinx isn’t exactly predictable. Just, uh… keep an ear out, maybe?’

‘Keep an ear out?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, like it was so obvious. ‘In case she needs you to look after her. She can get a little messy sometimes.’

‘Can’t you look after her if she gets like that?’ Luxanna asked, panic rising in her throat. ‘I mean, you’re her boyfriend, right? She and I are total strangers, and she seems to already have a problem with me, so—’

‘Tsk, you’ll be fine,’ he insisted. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Luxanna,’ she said, trying to push the fear down. There was nothing she wanted less than to have to deal with a ‘messy’ Jinx, or Jinx in general.

‘Luxanna,’ he repeated, committing it to memory. ‘Gotcha. Okay, here’s what we’ll do, Lux. You got a phone?’

‘It’s Luxanna,’ she corrected, retrieved her phone from the same cavernous coat pocket where she’d stashed the key card. Before she could ask why he needed it, he took it from her open hand and started inputting something. ‘Uh, what’re you doing?’

He fiddled some more and handed it back. It was open to Luxanna’s contacts; he’d given her his number, named himself BOY SAVIOR in all caps. Pretty cute.

‘Now text me,’ he said.

‘Oh, right—’

Not sure what else to do, she sent him a smile emoji. Within seconds, it pinged through, and he took his phone from his jeans to check. Grinned at her again.

‘A’ight, done,’ he said. ‘Now you don’t have to worry. You just chill, do your thing, whatever. We can text through the night, so you know if you need to be on hand, okay? But honestly, don’t worry. She’s bad with new people, but I’ll talk you up, tell her you seem cool. She, uh, she could do with a friend here.’

Huh. So, Luxanna still had to be on guard in case Jinx came home at gods knew what time, in gods knew what kind of condition, but she had Ekko’s number now, and that somehow made everything okay?

What!? None of it was okay! She just wanted to binge She-Ra, eat pasta, and pass out. Why the hell couldn’t Jinx take care of herself, or go home with Ekko at the end of the night? Why did she have to become Luxanna’s problem!?

‘Cool, cool.’ Luxanna played it off as no big deal, letting her anger sizzle beneath the surface. ‘We’ll, uh… text…’

‘Awesome,’ he said, and pulled her in for an impromptu hug. She did not do hugs. ‘Thanks, Lux.’ Luxanna. ‘See ya round.’

Finally, Ekko left, and Luxanna crumbled. She closed the door and sunk to the floor, not even bothering to take off her coat.

The implosion came swiftly, silently.

[anonymous-swiftie]

If you are on twitter, please retweet this:

https://twitter.com/ASwiftie00/status/1334245577933148164?s=19

Dear #Swifties,

I'm new on tumblr, and I really don't know how to use it.

I know you are the best supporters of the music industry and I'm here to ask your help.

I'm fighting with a crippling depression, that due this covid situation just got worse.

I'm at my lowest, I truly don't know if I will make it through this time.

I always dreamed to talk to Taylor, since I was a teenager. She is the only one that make me feel like I do fit in this world.

I've created this account because I know she is very active here, and I'm trying to reach her with this part of my story.

You can read everything below.

I didn't write any personal information because I don't want this to be seen by my family or somebody that can recognise me.

I don't want upset anyone.

I know that everyone hope to meet or chat with her, and so you are probably wondering why you have to share this here.

You're totally right, maybe it's a stupid idea to ask you this, but I haven't anything left in my pocket to fight this situation, and you're my only hope right now.

Thank you.

#taylor #swift

*******************************************

Dear Taylor,

I keep writing and deleting this, over and over again.

I feel so dumb to write my personal story here, but this truly is my last chance to feel better and try to overcome this giant monster called depression.

I genuinly don't know if I can make it through this year. It's the worst period of my entire life and i don't even know if it's worth living this hell anymore.

I know you have millions of supporters (that probably write you every single day, and they are all better fans than I am, that's for sure) but I know that you proved, time after time, to be so down to earth and to use your time to read your fans messages.. so, in this moment, I'm just trying to share a part of my story with you.

You are the one that make feel understood, since I was like 13teen.

I'm so sorry if my English isn't very good but I'll do my best.

I'm not very active on social media , because I'm very shy when I have to talk about myself.. but If this could work, I must do it.

I will try to send a letter, If I can find the strength to mark this feeling on paper.

**IF I'M WRITING TO SOMEBODY FROM HER STAFF, PLEASE JUST LET THIS MESSAGE REACH TAYLOR**

I'll try now to resume, because I don't want to bother you too much.

This has been a crazy year so far, and the all the time I spent by myself during the lockdown didn't help at all.

This situation brought me back to childhood.

I spent a lot of my days back and forth in hospitals, due to my allergies.

I had to wear a mask all the time I wanted to go outside to avoid severe allergic reaction (that's why this Covid thing awakened some hurting memories)

I didn't have real friends back then, 'cause I've spent most of the summers at home, watching other kids playing around, from my window, or from the windows of my classroom.

It was so hard to make new friends, because the only thing that other kids saw was my mask.

I was the masked kid.

I was the strange kid.

I couldn't play with them.

Everytime I tried to play with them, the only thing I heard was "oh you are ill , I don't wanna be like you so stay away".

This situation made me start to write things in my personal diary.

I wrote small sentences, as a kid, and that was the only thing I could do alone inside an empty classroom during all summer.

This situation continued  for many years.

I wasn't the cool kid before, I wasn't the cool guy after.

The only things that let me enjoy those days were writing and listening to your songs.

I started to listen to your music thanks to my English teacher. She was a fan of folk and country music and she gave me a pic in which you were singing near a lake (I still have that photo somewhere, I strongly remember the white banner with your name written in red on it) and told me to listen to the cd she gave me that day.

I immediately fell in love (I think I still have a crush on you, I'm sorry).

I loved your album. I loved your voice. I loved the lyrics.

I remember having a "test" in school: each one of the class had to write their favourite lyrics and let the others guess the song.

If the someone guessed It, We could play the cd.

I chose Love Story and I translated it in Italian.

The class guessed the song, and I played it.

After the lunch break I went back to my desk and I saw some bullies that were breaking my cd-album and they started to laugh at me because I loved your music an I loved writing poems.

I was a boy so I was a loser because I enjoyed those things.

That felt terrible, but I continued to love your songs even more .

Those were my inspiration to write and to study english.

I felt so good when I listened to your album and this still happens.

Then I went to a private high-school.

Nothing changed, I still was the nerd guy that always got good grades and I have to say that the first year was quite good, but the second year was the start of the apocalypse.

I choose that school because two girls that I knew from childhood went there.

One of the cool new guys started to spread a fake "news" about me.

He said to everyone that I was the boyfriend of one of the two girls that I mentioned before.

So he was the cool guy and one of the girls believed him and told me to f*** myself.

The other girl was her best friend, so you could imagine by what happened next.

After 14 year spent together, I was nobody.

I didn't have "friends" in that class anymore.

I didn't say hello to anybody for 4 years, and nobody would say anything to me.

Nobody to talked with me.

That's great when you're a teenager.

I hated to wake up every morning.

I had an eating disorder, I lost like 22pounds in less than a month. Got hospitalized twice. I kept vomiting for 3 years, every single morning before school.

During that time I only talked with one of my cousins, who lived like 2 hours by car from me.

He was older than me but he always tried to help.

He knew that I loved to write poems so he started to give me guitar lessons.

I made it through a lot of things thanks to him.

I'm sorry, It's hard for me to write this part of the story.

I still get emotional when I think about this.

On the 10TH of December 2013 (some days after his birthday) we received a phone call from his mother: She warned us that he didn't return home after the last working shift.

I wrote a message to him like 3 hours prior to that phone call.

Never had the opportunity to get a reply again.

This year is the seventh year that he is missing.

That destroyed me.

I felt empty.

I felt like nothing couldn't help me.

I still feel that everytime I care about someone in my life, it will disappear someday.

This have happened several other times.

You know when ignorants say that men don't cry, is real bullshit. Men cry. I cried a lot.

I wrote so many poems , lyrics, thoughts in that period of time, that I destroyed my hands.

That was the only way to close my eyes and let me reach another reality because the real one was way too much for me.

Be a sensible man in this world is somehow a curse.

All these things made me afraid  even to hug someone 'cause I feel I'm too ugly or just to scared to be refused.

I will stop here my story, but there's so much more to tell.

I make it through all of these things and memories because I keep dreaming that one day I could meet you and we could talk together.

Dreaming about the fact I could spend a day with you made me find the power to battle my depression.

I'm 25 now and this year I'm not dreaming anymore.

I was going to start again university, I wanted to get a degree in marketing and have the chance to live in the us.

For years I believed that I would make it and hopefully be part of your marketing team.

I'm so stupid. All these years I kept dreaming to avoid pain.

I wanted to pursue my passion and continue to write lyrics but all I was doing was putting myself in unrealistic realities.

This covid situation made everything clear.

When everyone had someone to facetime (or video call) I was alone.

When everyone had someone asking them "how are you?" I only had myself looking in the mirror saying: "Will I ever feel better?"

I've never been the one for anybody, and I think I'll never be.

I won't be the one among all your fans to realize his dream.

Nobody likes me, and I'm exposing myself once again just because I want the opportunity to smile at something that could happen to me.

I'm tired to smile only for others best moments.

I've always seen the sun through a window.

I want to feel happy.

I want to burn my face with the sun.

I'm so sick of hiding my pain,

sick to cry when I'm alone in my car before going to work,

sick to let my eyes rain on my pillow every night.

I'm sick to say to my mother that I'm fine, just because I don't want to make her feel bad.

It's not her fault.

She is battling with a degenerative autoimmune disease, why I should put other weight on her shoulders?

I didn't give up to my weakness before because I don't want to hurt her.

I always say to her that soon she will feel better, that's why your song It's stuck in my head.

But when she won't be here anymore, how I can go through all of that?

I don't even know if will ever get better for me.

Will this pain ever stop?

Sometimes it's so hard to live and so easy to die.

Hope that my dream to spend some time with you can become true.

Thank you for everything, you gave me the strength to go on for many years.. But this time is so hard to put on my armor and continue this battle.

But is this even worth if thy I try to surround myself with people and I always feel lonely?

D.

@taylorswift @taylornation @jackleopards-thedolphinclub

[alys-gay-parade]

Oh, you bet I do @allegrao-swiftie. Jim was demoted as soon as the boss got back, stripped of his manager status. He found out the hard way when the management codes weren't working bc the boss had changed them and Not given them to Jim.

He has gotten what he wanted. He's a waiter. He still pulls salty bullshit with dad a lot, but it seems to have toned down since it's clear who Boss fully places his trust in. Dad and I still look at each other sometimes and go, "He Took The Food.... From The Customer's Hands....." It's just baffling how he thought that was okay, y'know?

My dad always says that, in the restaurant world, the table is a holy place. Sacred ground. You do not corrupt sacred ground. That's how businesses start to crumble.

Strap in, this is a longish one.

My dad has been the general manager at his pizzaria for a few years. He has a workplace rivalry with another manager, a man we'll call Jim.

Now, Jim has Problems. He's been battling leukemia for 10 years, he has chronic joint pains, he's an alcoholic, and he's addicted to narcotics. So, and excuse my language, he's slowly become more and more of a Cunt over time.

When my dad was first hired as a delivery driver, he walked in on Jim having an affair with another driver. Nothing Super Scandelous, he was just resting his hand on her thigh as they were talking. My dad had a tendency to not think abt the things he says, and so he offhandedly mentioned it to the owner, their boss.

You can imagine that this PR fiasco triggered a businessman panic. Jim and the driver were fired pretty much immediately, but they were eventually hired back on.

Ever since dad got promoted to general manager, Jim has been on the warpath. The boss's mom in Iran is dying, so he takes frequent trips over to be with her and help in the death care and preparations, and leaves dad Fully in charge as an extension of himself. Whenever the boss is overseas, Jim activates. It started small, with general defiance and attitude, whenever dad asked him to do things. But eventually, it got worse.

Jim, altho a manager, enjoys doing waitstaff activities because he makes bank in tips. So he's often the one running the floor. One day, dad decided to check on and help a table as he was making his rounds, taking a break from the office. And that's when the pattern started.

Whenever he sees dad at one of His tables, Jim will waltz over and yell at dad for "messing with his tables", undermining him in front of the customer. At first, dad was chill. He obliged, and then pulled Jim aside to be like, "If you have something to say to me, never say it in front of the customer. It's embarrassing." Dad reported it to the boss and continued. The boss reprimanded Jim as soon as he got back, and things were mostly back to how they were.

The exact same scenario happened once more sometime later and went about the same way. But the other day, it was a new level. A woman flags down dad, and says how the waiter brought out everybody else's salads and her dressing, so she assumed he forgot her salad and she'd like to eat it alongside her friends. Dad gets her salad and hands it to her when Jim appears.

"Don't mess with my tables! Her salad was coming out with her sandwich!" Jim grabbed hold of the plate in the woman's hands and began trying to pull it away. The customer was in shock and disbelief as she firmly held on to her plate. Eventually, she let go. Dad calmly took the plate back and walked away, getting to hear the woman tell Jim, in a timid and still shocked voice, "Um, actually, I asked him to get that for me."

Dad now refuses to help Jim with anything or clean up after him. He's gonna play the stupid game, he's gonna win the stupid prize of his job being 10x harder.

We're currently waiting for the boss's trip to be over so he and dad can have a Real conversation about Jim's abhorrent behavior and his future at the restaurants.

[the1975attheirverybest]

People are really confused why they cancelled Taipei considering they don’t have laws like Malaysia and Indonesia, I’m seeing a lot of speculation about their safety, but they stayed in Malaysia until 4am and boarded a flight to Singapore at 5:30am. I think they’re good, he probably wouldn’t be posting on his IG story like that if they weren’t. Realistically, the worst that would happen is them being banned, which they were. 

They were most likely advised to back out of Jakarta, it wouldn’t be safe. The online reaction from Indonesian people said that much, so I’m sure it was a real concern IRL. Some local fans claim the band was getting bomb threats and death threats. Taipei is probably logistics. I read that their equipment didn’t leave at the same time they did, and when it did leave the country it was shipped back to the UK. 

Oh well. So proud of them, whether or not people agree with what they did, it made an impact. 

You know what? I think we’ll find out in due time. If the past few months have taught us anything, it’s that the guys will always be as transparent as possible. Matty especially. But we need to trust them and have faith. Everyone was bunching their panties about the podcast, and he eventually apologized onstage (before the Taylor stuff, before the Rina stuff, etc). Then, AGAIN, when the swifties came for his ass, I had people in my askbox like “I DEMAND an apology. Not only an apology but a written one.” Someone even said some shit about how people who speak English as a second language were misunderstanding him and he needs to do it in multiple languages (as if language to language translation isn’t a thing?????). Then, he waited, at Finsbury , he said what he wanted to say.

That’s how Matty operates. He doesn’t like reactionary bullshit. And he doesn’t like for his hand to be forced. He’ll think about it, when when he’s ready, he’ll let us know what’s going on. This might be at their next show, or it might be in a month or two or three. Who knows. But the guys have always been true to their word. There’s no reason to think that they’re taking this lightly at all.

[johnkrrasinski]

i dreamt of you all sumer long;

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2,607

Warning: angst with a happy ending :)

Summary: based on the song ‘betty’ by taylor swift except bucky ain’t no cheater.

a/n: i dedicate this one to all my fellow swifties. betty was an instant favourite as soon as i first heard it when folklore came out. it has been begging for me to write a fanfic inspired by it and now it’s finally out and i’m really happy about it. hope you like it. please leave a comment & like :) 

He stood on the doorstep of your house, with a bouquet of pink roses in his hands and a hood over his head. A little tipsy and full of sorry. “You can always turn around," the voice in his head whispered just a few minutes ago when he stopped at a streetlight illuminating his path to the street he had passed a million times before.

But now that he was standing in your front porch light of this cozy little house he had grown to know as if it was his second home before the avalanche this summer was, the feeling was finally sinking in.

“Have you seen Bucky?”

“No, I thought he was with you.”

“Well, he was but then Steve asked me to dance and he just… disappeared.”

“Maybe he went to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I’ll just try to call him again. Thanks, Nat.”

You searched for him in the halls and within the classrooms but there was no sign of him. You knew that Bucky hated the crowds and he always tried to avoid them. But Bucky knew how much this dance meant to you and how long you had been looking forward to this night. You put on your best dress and makeup for him tonight and you wanted to sway to your favourite song with him. He promised that he would try to make this night an incredible one for you. He seemed to have forgotten that promise because he wasn’t even answering your calls or texts to let you know where he was hiding.

You went to the boys’ locker room and what you saw was a bullet right in the centre of your heart. Bucky had his lips on a classmate of yours’ with his back pressed against the locker.

“Bucky…?”

He drew this moment out in his head after weeks of yearning for the way your lips tasted when you used to kiss in his car and downtown bars. And the pattern of your braids that adorned the view of you under the sunset, and the star-shaped traces of his fingers around your scars.

The only thing he wanted to do was make it up to you.

Bucky was a deer caught in headlights when he heard your meek voice calling out his name. He was too stunned by the act she had just caught him off guard with. He was on his way to somewhere less congested to calm himself down because the crowds always evoked the anxiety in him and Steve had asked her to dance when her favourite song was playing from the far side of the gym when he heard the sound of cries from the locker room. He couldn’t help but approach the sound, he really should’ve kept walking instead of interfering. He saw her sitting on the bench in her dress with a tissue in her hand and sobbed.

“Hey, you okay?”

“James… What are you doing here?” She looked up with her swollen eyes.

“I was on my way to the library but I heard someone was crying so I had to check it out.” He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe I should’ve given you some space instead…”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you, James.” She smiled. “Wanna sit?”

“…Yeah, sure.” He doubtfully accepted the offer. “What happened?”

“Kevin broke up with me over the phone while I was on my way to the dance and he came with Cecilia.”

“Jeez, what a dickhead.”

“Yeah, I knew he and Cecil had been fooling around behind my back for months but he always told me that I was being crazy and that I have to trust him more, and I always believed him until tonight he showed me what a jackass he actually is.”

“Hey, he doesn’t deserve you. You should be with someone who loves you and treats you better.” Bucky was never one to give good advice or comfort to his friends but his mama raised him to be a gentleman and to treat a girl like a queen. She always reminded him that if he ever broke a girl’s heart, she would beat his ass.

She smiled, “thanks, James. You’re really sweet.”

He nodded, “well, I should go. Y/N might be looking for me.”

“…Right, you are with Y/N.” For a moment there, she forgot that he and you were the school’s favourite couple.  

“Yeah, so, you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

He got up and started walking toward the exit when he heard her call his name. “James…”

He turned around to see her on her feet already when she threw herself into him and startled him by pressing her lips onto his and pushed him onto the locker as it rattled with the pressure of his body against it. He was too dumbfounded to get her off of him when he heard your voice, “Bucky…?”

He could hear the music emanating from within the house as another of his classmate passed by, bumping his shoulder to get through the entrance. Another one of your stupid friends, he used to say, and you used to chide at him for that. But now he felt like he was the biggest idiot. "You got this, don't be a fucking coward." He braced himself.

So he showed up uninvited and his eyes scanned every corner of the room, seeking for that one face that haunted his dreams all summer long. Will you have me? will you love me? Will you kiss me? The lingering questions loomed over his head like a heavy cloud. What if you told him to go fuck myself instead? If you kissed me, will it patch you broken wings? He was only seventeen, he didn’t know anything but he knew that he missed you.

You greeted each one of your friends who came to your birthday party. You were grateful for another year and your friends whom you consider your second family. You were the type of person who was friends with everyone even though you only considered Natasha as and Wanda as your best friends, your most trusted confidants, they were the ones who stitched you back together after you caught Bucky cheating… Or at least that’s what you thought.  

So you invented the whole school to your party and almost everyone came. The jocks, the popular girls, the nerds, even some of your seniors were there too. Your house was packed with high school kids dancing, drinking and laughing… But there was something missing.

He should’ve been there with you. He should’ve been the one standing right beside you when your schoolmates were singing happy birthday to you. He should’ve been there to kiss you and hold you after the party was over and everyone had gone home. But he wasn’t. Because you thought you knew someone and you thought someone loved you but sometimes you’re just enough for them and they would go looking for excitement in somewhere else.

“Y/N! Wait a minute, would you listen to me?!”

“I’ve heard enough. Most importantly… I’ve seen enough.”

“No, you don’t understand, she kissed me! She was crying and, and, I was trying to comfort her and we talked and the next thing I knew she kissed me!” He frantically explained through his ragged breaths.

“But did you stop her?”

He was silent. What the hell was he supposed to say? He couldn’t stop her because he didn’t have it in him to reject a vulnerable woman? That’s how his mama raised him right? To treat every girl with respect and to take care of a girl especially when she’s emotional. Why is being seventeen so confusing?

“I was… I was trying to but-”

“I’ve heard enough of your bullshit, James.” Oh no, you called his first name. Oh man, he had truly fucked up.

“I- I would never cheat on you, y/n! You really think I could do such a thing to you?”

“Not anymore.” You glared at him with all conviction in your heart and your classmates gathered around to watch the quarrel as your heart was bisecting.

“Well, I guess then this is it.” He didn’t mean it. He wished he had fought a little harder for you. To make you stay and hearken. But he gave up too easily. He has always been a lover than a fighter after all, but how he wished he had turned himself into the other one at that moment.  

You chatted with Natasha and Wanda in your living room and you giggled at another witty joke Natasha had just said. Natasha and Wanda always had a way of making you giggle even when your mood was contrasting the expressions on your face. The conversation faded into the background as your mind drifted to Bucky’s face. And that’s when you saw him…

Bucky’s breath hitched when he saw you for the first time after all these weeks. He swore he had prepared every word he was going to say to you and how he was going to act when- if You agreed to talk to him. But it was always easier said than done.

He couldn’t decipher the look on your face when your eyes met. Was it longing? Was it contempt? Was it disbelief? You were always difficult to read. God, he wished he was a mind reader sometimes.

Kids started murmuring things from one another because the entire school loved you and Bucky and everyone started talking when you two ended things and that he was caught ‘cheating.’ And now everyone’s jaws dropped when they thought you and Bucky were truly over and that he was the last person that would be invited to your party.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and if the earth could open up and swallow him so he wouldn’t have to deal with his annoying schoolmates and your fury, that wouldn’t be the worst scenario right now. But he was here and he might’ve had been a fool and a recreant once but he was going to fix it now. He can’t keep running away when things get the slightest bit inconvenient.

So he dragged his feet towards you with the bouquet of flowers still in his hands and once he was close enough to you, he sheepishly spoke, “hi.”

“You’ve got some balls to show up here.” You gritted through your teeth.

He gulped, “I wanted to talk… And to wish you, happy birthday.” He handed you the flowers and also a piece of his heart, hoping that you would take him back.

You accepted it. They were lovely but could a bouquet of flowers really mend the wounds he had inflicted? “What do you want, Bucky?”

“Just a few minutes to explain… everything. After this, if you never wanna see me or talk to me ever again, I’ll leave you alone.”

Was it really what you wanted? Curse your heart for always knowing better. But your stubborn head always had its hands on the wheel, so, forever can spare a minute… right? “Okay, let’s talk in the garden.”

Your garden, the place where you and Bucky used to make out when your parents weren’t home and laid under the broad daylight. Was it wise to lead him here? You shushed the whispers of your heart. Memories came swirling through like a hurricane, banging on your door, begging for you to open up and let him back in.

“Go ahead.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna make this quick but um…” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. Something he always did when he was nervous or didn’t know what to say. He looked down and spoke, “y/n, I am so sorry for what I did to you at the dance. I know I should’ve- God I should’ve stopped her and should’ve stayed with you. I should’ve kept my promise to try harder for you but I didn’t. And I know I’m a fucking idiot but… I’ve missed you. So badly. And I wish I could turn back the time and fixed it but all I can do now is apologize.” Your tears were threatening to fall at the sincerity of his words. You never wanted this. You wished Bucky had known better but to love is to lose your mind and you were at fault for this mess too.

“I understand if you don’t wanna see me around or deal with me again, I came here knowing you’d never take me back because you told me once that cheating was your dealbreaker and what I did was just as shitty but, if this is the last time you’ll ever talk to me, I had to get it out of my chest. That’s all.” He sighed, the gloom in his heart wasn’t withering away but at least the weight in his heard was lighter now that he had come clean.  “I’m gonna go now, you should go back to your friends, they are waiting.” He inched his face closer to you to kiss you on the cheek and you were too mesmerized by the blue in his eyes to shun away.

“Goodbye, y/n. And once again, happy birthday.” He turned around to leave, going for the exit door of your garden so he didn’t have to walk past through the crowds and deal with prying questions about their… whatever they are now or what truly happened at the dance. He had made peace with you and that’s all that mattered to him.

He was a few steps away from her when he heard her voice calling his name, “Bucky, wait…”

He stopped and turned to your direction only to catch you narrowing the gap and jumped on him. He was quick to catch her as they used to after a few days of not seeing each other and they both had missed each other terribly. She pressed her lips on top of his and circled her arms around his neck to hold onto him. Because who was she kidding? She had missed him so badly too. She dreamt of him calling her to apologize or to show up at her party but never once did she admit it. And now, her heart was back in her arms and she didn’t want to let him go ever again.

Their kiss with filled of longing as their lips moved like a perfect symphony. One of his hands moved to her face to hold her even closer because everything he desired was coming true and he was desperate to make it stay a reality. Your hands grabbed his hair as your tongues tangled, dancing in sync. You pulled away when the need for air was overwhelming, “I forgive you.” You smiled as your foreheads were pressed together.

He too smiled at that, “does this mean you will take me back?”

You nodded, “it does.” Bucky grinned wider, the bliss in his face was palpable. Oh, how good it felt to see him smile again. Bucky could say the same.

He kissed you once more with his hand cupping your cheek and when he pulled away, he gazed into your beautiful eyes and confessed, “I love you. So much. I never stopped loving you.”

“I love you too.” You meant it with every bit of your heart.

He put you on the ground and you were still intertwined with each other, too in love and too elated to pay attention to the curious peeks and snooping ears. “Let’s go back inside, yeah? It’s cold here. And you should be there with me.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be anyway.”