#i couldn’t pick one version so have all three 😁

[themissingmango]

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | JTK | Prologue

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: breakups, feelings of sadness, crying, high school relationships, angst, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

welcome to the show, everyone 😁 glad to be back with another Jake fic. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (this has been sitting in my drafts for SO long)

August, 2014

“Eight songs, Y/N. I sat there for hours, listening to as much music as I could. I sorted through my dad’s old vinyl records, and all of the CD’s Josh and I could find in the house. I searched for lyrics on the internet, I even asked my mom if she had any ideas.” Jake explained, taking a step closer to you. There was a small plastic case in one of his hands, a bushel of hand picked wildflowers in his other, and a look in his eyes that made your heart ache with all of the pain you had been holding back. “This is it; eight songs that tell you exactly how I feel about you. Four that tell you how much I love you, and four that tell you everything you need to know about how I feel about you leaving.”

“Jake,” you whispered, your lips pressed together tightly as the corners of your mouth dipped down into a frown. Your eyes were shining under the warm yellow hue of the ceiling light, the threat of unshed tears growing more imminent with each second that passed. The walls of your childhood bedroom were familiar, but completely different all at the same time. Years worth of cherished memories flashed before your eyes as the boy stood before you amongst half-filled boxes and your torn-apart closet.

“No,” he cut you off, shaking his head so you could not speak any further.

His hair was long, moving against his skin with each turn of his head. It reached the middle of his neck now, and it would only get longer as he continued to grow it out. You couldn’t help but feel that the long hair suited him best, that it brought out the beauty of his face even more than it already did on its own. He’d been talking about it for so long that you could already picture what it would look like on him. You were sad that you would not be able to see it when his mission was complete and the ends of his hair tickled the underside of his shoulder blades.

No, you were sad that you would miss any stage of Jake’s life, devastated that there would be any version of him you were unfamiliar with.

The sweatshirt he was wearing was heartbreaking all on its own; you bought it for him months prior on your three day trip to tour the university you were now preparing to attend. There were bags under his eyes, showing his exhaustion and discomfort with the current arrangement the two of you found yourselves in. His eyes themselves were bloodshot, and worse than that, they were sad. You hated seeing anything less than joy written in his features, because he was a boy deserving of things that were only ever good.

Right now, you knew that what you were doing to him was anything but good, and it was fucking killing you.

You only ever wanted to be the reason for the smile on his face, and now you were the source of his misery; you loved him so utterly and deeply that you turned into the very thing that hurt him.

“You said you didn’t want to make this harder than it needed to be, but it’s going to fucking suck no matter how we do things. I can’t let you leave without telling you—“ he cut himself off, clearing his throat as his gaze flickered to the floor. There were tears glistening in his eyes, too, but he was much more afraid to show them than you were. “I can’t let you go unless I know that you know how much you mean to me.”

“It is hard, Jake. This is the hardest thing I have ever done.” You confessed, sniffling away your sadness as you tried to cement the memory of his face in your brain forever. He was beautiful, and he always had been. His warm eyes spoke love without him ever opening his mouth, and his smile was the only thing that could brighten the darkest of days.

“The whole distance thing is stupid, and I don’t like it. We’ve been together for three years, and I can’t sit at home and act like you don’t mean anything to me.” His words were equal to a stab in the stomach.

You did not intend to hurt him when you suggested taking some time away from each other. You thought it would be easier, that it would make your departure less painful as you both came to terms with the fact you would be leaving him behind, but so far it had been nothing but horrendous. You stayed up every night, staring at the ceiling as you remembered what it felt like to lay next to him. You listened to new music, hoping it would make you feel something other than sadness, but the emotion that plagued you grew tenfold when you realized you had no one to share it with. You checked your phone constantly, hoping to see his name grace your screen, only to find that he was too good at respecting your wishes.

Jake was your boyfriend, and it had been that way for a long time, but he was so much more than just that. He was your best friend, your confidant and the very thing you knew you could lean on in times that were tougher than usual. He was your light in darkness, and he was everything you ever needed all at once. Jake was the whole world, and in that moment, he was yours. As of late, you felt more stupid than ever before, unable to forgive yourself for letting him go. He loved you through the awkwardness of growing into a teenager, and he loved you through the usual triumphs and disasters of high school. He loved you when you thought no one else could, and he did it so well that you had no idea what to expect now that he was not going to be yours anymore.

He stood before you, freshly eighteen with a new found freedom in life. You were just shy of the same age, but the freedom you found did not feel very special at all. You expected your high school graduation to be sweet, exciting and fun, but so far it brought you nothing but turmoil. You scored top of your class and had people throwing scholarships in your face. As much as you wanted to enjoy it, you couldn’t seem to find any joy in the experience. You tried to blame it on your nerves as you spent the summer preparing to drive states away to attend a university that you had only visited once, but you knew it had nothing to do with that. You were thrilled to continue your studies, to pursue something that you had spent your life dreaming about. You were excited to meet people, to grow into the person you were always meant to be.

It was not the school that made your stomach twist with nerves, but the knowledge Jake would not be coming with you. It was the knowledge that after three years, you would have to learn to live without him by your side, and worst of all, you had to digest the fact that he would move on. In due time, his heart and the love he once gave to you would be someone else’s, and he would be happy again, without ever having a second thought about you.

No matter where Jake went, you knew he would flourish, that he would find someone that would love him just as much, if not more, than you loved him.

That thought was comforting as much as it was gut wrenching. Jake deserved to be loved, but you wished you were the person who could love him the way he deserved.

What hurt just a little worse than that was the passing thought that you would never find someone who would love you the way Jake loved you.

You had done everything with him up until two weeks prior, when you pleaded with him to give you some space so you could grieve the fact your relationship would be coming to an end. You did not cut off contact completely, and in that time, you had called him almost daily and payed short visits to his house every now and again. You wanted it to make you feel better, but all it did was make the ache of missing him grow even larger despite him still being there when you needed him. You knew that when you got in your car the next morning, it would be the definite end of the two of you, but it did not mean you were happy, and you were certainly not okay with it.

If missing him while he was still beside you hurt achingly bad, you could not imagine the pain that would come as you drove away from the only thing you ever wanted to have.

The two of you discussed the topic heavily over the last few months, finding yourselves in a great debate of whether long distance would work for the two of you. Eventually, after many tears and lots of sad, sleepless nights, the two of you decided that it would be best to let the loving relationship you had created remain a memory. He didn’t want you worrying about him while you were focusing on your studies, and you didn’t want to tie him down while he tried to make his own life at home.

Although the two of you agreed on the terms, it hurt like a bitch.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You whispered, your bottom lip quivering as you tried to express your remorse. “I didn’t know how else to deal with it.”

“Just listen to what I have to say, and then you can deal with it however you want.” He tried again, still staying strong despite the pain growing larger in his heart.

“Okay.” You whispered, giving a slight nod as you stepped back and took a seat on the edge of your bed. He followed suit, stopping by your dresser to place the sparse bushel of wildflowers down as he approached you.

He took a seat beside you, extending his arm for you to take the CD. Slowly, you grabbed it from his hands, a slight shake to your fingers as they clasped around the cool, hard plastic. You looked down at the white surface through the clear cover, feeling the first tear fall from your eye. In the familiar, scribbled handwriting, a love note more romantic than any other littered the surface of the CD.

‘I can’t tell you how I feel, so I’ll let the songs say it instead. All my love, Jake ᥫ᭡’

“Wild Horses, Rolling Stones.” He started, watching your face as he spoke. “You told me when we started dating that your dad used to sing it to your mom, and you thought it was the most romantic song in the world until they got divorced. You said that you hated it, and you would never be able to listen to it again, and I could tell that you were so sad about it. So, I sang it to you. I wanted to turn it back into a good memory. I learned the chords and I used my dads old acoustic guitar, and I was fucking terrified, Y/N. It was the first song I ever played for you, and you told me that nobody had ever done anything so nice for you before.”

“‘Cause nobody ever had.” You said, the sentiment still remaining true to this day.

“Wonderful Tonight, by Eric Clapton.” He continued, knowing his time was running short. The evening was darkening into night, and he wasn’t keen on spending your last bit of time together solely talking. “We slow danced in the kitchen to that song, ‘cause I told you I didn’t know how to dance and I didn’t want to embarrass myself at prom. You let me pick the song and then you taught me how, and I think of you every time I hear it.”

The memory was as beautiful as the song was, and you felt another tear fall at the explanation. You had no idea how you were going to let him go, and no desire to do it, anyway, even if you knew it was for the best.

“I need you, Lynyrd Skynyrd. Pretty self explanatory.” He let out a small chuckle, which you joined in on. “The Air That I Breathe, The Hollies.” He jumped straight to the next track. “Listen to the words, and you’ll get it.”

“Jake, this is too much.” You took in a shaky breath, swiping tears away from your cheeks.

“No, Y/N. It’s not enough.” He corrected. “You deserve the whole world, and I wish I could give it to you.”

“You’re not making this any easier.” You forced a smile on your face, your cheeks damp with your own misery. He reached out, swiping away the tears as they fell, hoping that by some stroke of luck, he would still be yours even long after you had gone.

“It was never going to be easy, beautiful.” He finally said the words he’d been holding back the whole time. He had tried his hardest to convince you that it would be okay, hoping that in turn, he would convince himself, too. Now that he was sitting beside you, still just as sad, he knew easy was subject, and only time would heal the wounds that were created that night. “If You Gotta Go, Go Now, by Dylan.”

“Or Else You Gotta Stay All Night.” Your lips turned upwards into a small smile. It wouldn’t be from Jake had there not been at least one Dylan song on the track.

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers, cause I know it’s gonna be pretty dark for a while after you leave, Sunshine.”

“Don’t say that.” You said, feeling your stomach twist with remorse.

“It’s true.” He argued. “Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits, ‘cause maybe it’s just the time that’s not right for us.” His voice was quiet, cracking as he forced the words out, like he was fearful to get an unwanted answer to his rhetoric. “Maybe in the future, the time will be right, and we can try again.”

“God, I hope so.” You confessed, the tears making a rapid return. The more he spoke, the more real the entire thing felt. For years, you had brushed the topic off, forcing yourself to believe that senior year and university was so far away, but now that it was staring you in the face, making it impossible to see past it, you realized the time had flew by like nothing at all. You didn’t want to leave him, because he was the only thing you ever wanted. The idea of having him again in the future made the ache ease ever so slightly, but knowing that the whole middle part would suck made the relief insignificant.

“And the last one is We’ve Got Tonight by Bob Segar, ‘cause we do, sunshine. We have one more night to love each other, and I’ll be damned if I waste it. So here I am, with eight songs and some flowers that I found in my backyard, asking you if you’ll let me love you until you leave tomorrow. It doesn’t have to hurt right now, and we don’t have to let it hurt worse than it has to.”

“Okay,” you breathed, little argument left in you. If he wanted to love you, you weren’t stupid enough to turn him away. Tomorrow, when the sun rose in the sky, illuminating the mistakes you made and highlighting your successes, you would deal with the inevitable disappointment that came along with losing him, but you didn’t have to start yet. At that moment, you still had him, and you wanted to savour the feeling of Jake Kiszka being yours for as long as you could.

“Okay?” He asked, almost shocked at your lack of rebuttal.

“Okay, Jake. We’ve got tonight, so let’s make it last.”

[tessabennet]

Hellohellohello!

I'm not even really here, but I just saw this, and you know me, I can't resist because I'm nosy AF. So:

⭐ ??? Go wild!

(Also, if you want: Which character was/is surprisingly difficult to write? Which one turned out be much easier than you anticipated?)

Heyyy J, thanks for once again giving me the go ahead to talking about my own writing 😁🥰

I'll start with the last questions:

Who was surprisingly difficult to write? Tony. Definitely Tony. Idk, I was already daunted and unsure when I first started writing him, but thought I could wing it by throwing in the sarcasm and one liners. And they do work, they just kinda turn him into a caricature, which I didn't want. I still think I'm not really getting him *right*, you know, but I couldn’t say why exactly.

The others that were also hard to write at first are Bruce and Thor, but since they were always minor characters and then basically disappeared from the story for a while, it wasn't so bad. Except now I'm post-Snap with writing and am reminded of all my shortcomings.

Who was surprisingly easy? The boring answer is Natasha, but I've talked about this extensively already. The other boring answer is Sam, but I haven't gotten to him yet with the posted chapters, so I'll withhold information on that for now.

So, I'll go with Fury! I was scared of the Secret Agent Talk, but I think he turned out pretty well. Same goes for Maria Hill actually. And Rhodey too. It's very comic book politics, but I ended up exploring the "realistic" parts of the MCU (ie politics and consequences of the on-screen actions) and that's really fun!

Okay, so with the commentary I picked a scene from chapter 28 of Hand of a Devil. I'm not sure if you've gotten to that already, so (very small) spoiler warning if you haven't! I'll put it under the cut, feel free to ignore it.

There's quite some rambling, but I hope it's at least a little fun to listen to read. Thanks again for the ask, I always appreciate it 💜

⭐️ And if anybody else wants a director's cut, please send me more asks! ⭐️

"What does he even want to be now, a superhero?" She huffs indignantly, her mind flashing back to Alexei in his Red Guardian uniform. "There's no such thing."

She can picture Clint raising his eyebrows as he replies. "Well, the three-year-old with the Captain America action figure sitting beside me would beg to differ."

Natasha knows the one he's talking about. Cooper loves Captain America. Cooper also loves Play Doh and Sesame Street.

"I never did understand what that was about," she tells Clint. Her most vivid memories of Captain America were the cartoons she and Yelena sometimes watched during their time in Ohio. "What does an army need a figurehead for? Blatant propaganda."

"He's much cooler than that, come on!" Clint sounds personally insulted. "With the shield and the attitude... The guy practically invented guerrilla warfare, and I read this biography once where –"

I love this scene for a lot of reasons. Not just because Clint and Natasha are always a joy to write together, but because I really enjoy throwaway comments and references like this.

With these lines in particular, what I was trying to do (and I think it worked pretty well) is show the different ideas that Clint and Natasha have about Steve Rogers and/or Captain America, due to their cultural backgrounds and upbringing, before anyone even discovered that Steve was still alive.

Natasha thinks of Cap as a figurehead. She only knows him as either propaganda or a character for children, like merchandise of the United States.

Clint, on the other hand, would've learned about Steve Rogers in history class, at least to some extent. He got taught the strategic value of what Cap and the Howlies did, not just the propaganda aspects. And my version of Clint in particular is kind of a history enthusiast, so he's a bit of a fan too.

And in a way, both are right! Clint's got the perspective on where Steve's coming from, Natasha on what people have turned him into during his absence, while he was in the ice. What's interesting (imo) is how this affects how they meet Steve when he comes back.