#stayed for the heartbreak

[kkirexxovo]

when this is all over // i want to try dried persimmons, too.

closeup n layers under cut

[epiclad]

"I'll remain with Hewg. He made me who I am today. I'd like to return the kindness, in whatever small way I can."

[salemontrial]

Say whatever you want but Missy explaining Orpheus and Eurydice to Spider while he listens with genuine awe going "woag. Fr?? No shit?? Thats tragic asf waog.." is indeed peak romance and you can't do a thing to change my mind

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[xmascritter]

Where is hope? Where is that passion that shone as bright as ripe berries? Gone...

[cloudysonder]

The Death of Nagi

"It doesn't matter how you live... but just don't die before me, you know?"

Parents were not meant to outlive their children. Nagi was never meant to outlive Reo -- he never wanted to in the first place. He only ever came to Blue Lock because Reo promised to "stay with him until the end," only ever played soccer because "it was the first time someone had ever showed interest in a guy like [him]."

Because of this, Nagi didn't fear [Death] the same way that Reo did.

Nagi had always lived half of a life. [Death] just meant returning to those listless days. But Reo...

Reo became hyperaware of his inadequacies from the moment Nagi left him in the second selection. He's been overwhelmed by his fear of his dream's death for hundreds of chapters. Reo thought he was the weak link, that his death would be the end of his dream with Nagi.

Meanwhile, Nagi lived with lazy confidence in both him and Reo. He didn't even comprehend the possibility of Reo's or his elimination.

Nagi had never acted on "pure survival instincts," because he'd never feared [Death]. By Ego's definition, then, everything he did in Blue Lock was out of Love.

Only when Ego had said it out loud did a small fear of [Death] sprout in Nagi for the first time. All he had known before was that he didn't want Reo to die (Nagi was driven by Love), but he hadn't considered that dying himself would also mean losing Reo.

He panics.

The tragedy is that Ego's spiel about dreams hits him just a bit too late. He's always been willing to die -- [Death] wouldn't affect his love. But now... now he's realizing he wants to live for his love. To stay by Reo's side, to support him and be supported. He doesn't want to leave. He begs, desperately, for his love to manifest as ego, so that he can stay, so that he can live.

Many have characterized Nagi as selfish. I don't think this is the case. He makes every decision based on what he thinks will benefit Reo. His survival in Blue Lock has been a consequence, not a priority. But here, we see Nagi finally turning selfish.

He's the one afraid of being without Reo.

He's the one afraid of being alone.

The same monster that enveloped Bachira envelops Nagi.

But while Bachira could separate his love for soccer from his love for Isagi...

Nagi... could not.

Nagi wants to play soccer to stay by Reo's side. He's always been satisfied, as long as he was together with Reo. He never manifested a dream beyond that. The undead don't dream.

He pursued a goal of beating Isagi, after seeing how upset Reo was from losing to him, and he won. He avenged them. All he wants now is to be by Reo for as long as he can.

But dreams like that don't survive in Blue Lock.

Nagi and Reo have always been Ego's foil -- the question of whether Love could overpower Ego.

And Love (Nagi) died.

[localvillagecryptid]

Did some thinking and I haven't seen an Alternate Transmigration AU of Shen Yuan as Yue Qingyuan.

I think it's mostly because people generally like whatever the hell is going on between him and Shen Jiu, and some might even like the double angst of that relationship + the added fact that Yue Qingyuan Does Not Know and will Never Know that Shen Jiu is gone forever (because if there's one thing YQY stans like, it's his pain lmfao). But I think we're really missing out on the potential angst AND crack factors of canon QiJiu Fuckery with Yue Qingyuan being replaced, and SHEN JIU being the one having to deal-by-not-dealing with Yue Qingyuan being gone.

Because it's possible that he'd recognize that something is off and IMMEDIATELY decide YQY is possessed, which in it's own right can be both a crack and angst premise. But imagine if he doesn't???

His self-loathing and his hatred towards YQY (and the good memories he DOES still have of him) would make the perfect concoction of reasons to doubt himself and YQY's actions. He's already so hostile to him, constantly pushing him away, wanting but not wanting him to fuck off forever. Shen Yuan being yeeted into Yue Qingyuan's body and probably doing exactly that for the first month or two? Shen Jiu would be SEETHING. How dare this man take all the verbal, visual, and physical cues I've given, and actually take the hint and leave??? How dare he give me space when I throw things at his head and threaten his life??? Clearly all that kindness from the past few decades was just an act, just like he thought! He's stabbing a pillow with Yue Qingyuan's face on it.

And when "Yue Qingyuan" starts showing up at the peak again- to speak to that fucking orphan brat???? The same kid Yue Qingyuan almost took into his own peak??? The same little runt that's all talented and special and has all that fucking potential in him???

Binghe would NOT be the one committing the attack on Cang Qiong Mountain this time.

[silent-insanities]

You promised to stay.

[saturnyo]

Part 1 of the Lana Del Rey-inspired fanfics

Black Beauty

Pairing: Tommy Miller/Reader

Words: 3.8k

Summary: He smelled like cedar, oil, and the kind of heartbreak you thank someone for. You brought him cookies the day he moved in. He opened the door in grease-stained jeans and eyes that hadn’t learned how to hope again. Since then, he’s only talked to you. He says you're "just friends" with his hands on your waist and your name in his mouth like a confession. And every night, you swear you’ll stop dreaming about the garage wall, the back of his neck, and the way his flannel still smells like before everything fell apart.

Author's Blurb: I hope I did this correctly, and I hope you enjoy it

August 2003

The smell of oil and gasoline drenched the low afternoon sun making a familiar sight feel different as if you are viewing it through someone else’s point of view . an unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine revving next door fills your ears as a half smile spreads across your face. it was an everyday thing, a routine almost to hear Tommy Miller your neighbor working on that project of his in his free time after work. a string of curses billow into your kitchen window as something else goes wrong, the clanking of tools seemingly scatter across the ground. you watch laughing to yourself as you see Tommy childishly kick his toolbox while muttering something like “this is bullshit” and “this is pointless”

His broad shoulders are tense but somehow still holding the perfect balance between grit and warmth. every time he would wave hello to you in the morning on his way to work and how he would seemingly find excuses to come over and ask to borrow some sugar or even a lightbulb, you would always smell the scent of cedar and oil an intoxicating combination. those warm brown sweet honeyed eyes looking at you like the sun rises and sets beneath your own. his flannel shirt that he always wears basically like a second skin is undone at the top showing a bit of his tanned skin, evident by working outside in the hot sun for hours on end. a blush spreads lightly across your cheeks as thought of him picking you up like you weighed nothing pinning you against the wall of his garage making you moan his name as if it was a religious sacrament.

Since Tommy moved into the empty house beside you almost a year ago filling the vacant place with a unique comforting presence, you two have become fast acquaintances even friends as Tommy said just a few days prior. he always did seem warm and inviting but underneath that sun was an unnatural coldness. a man who has lost quite a bit and doesn’t want anything to get past the walls he has built around his heart.

There was some mystery still shrouding the black curled hair man you have come to know over the last year. Tommy rarely interacts with any other neighbor at least not that you have seen. he was always seemed to expertly avoid the incessant chitchat from everyone around you that lived in the same cul-de-sac. a simple nod and an excuse that he had “busy work” to do drove away anymore of the neighbors trying to hunt him down. but you were determined. wanting to set a good impression, you baked him some cookies, a nice welcome to the neighborhood and brought them over.

you knocked and waited for him to answer the door

one minute

then two

and then three

then you knocked again

one min-

There he was. standing there in all of his greased up and oil covered clothes glory. a warm smile and the smell of freshly baked sugar cookies somehow won him over. since then he’s only ever interacted with you.

To Tommy, it was something about you, something about the way you smiled or the way you walked back towards your home as your hair swished behind in perfect rhythm was a vortex pulling him in and putting him under some deep hypnotic spell. a man of his means, the type who would rather possess you and crack you open revealing every secret, every traumatic thing that happened in your life just so he could be the one to heal you. Tommy wanted to be the one to consume and put you back together all at the same time.

Your voice was like a velvet knife slicing him while he apologizes for upsetting you. but in return he towers over you, protective, grounded. you two have met in the broken middle. Tommy’s gaze on your hair, your skin committing every curve and groove to his memory. two broken individuals colliding into a symphony of broken dreams and misguided promises, holding the other at arms length from fear of being thrown in a pit of lies and deceit

You were a hymn that someone sang through gritted teeth

He was a grave that someone long forgot to visit and maintain

Tommy Miller loves a girl that would look at him with their big eyes and a pouty expression

a girl that comes completely undone in his hands

a girl that will say please, please, please her way through an orgasm when he finally gives you what you want

You walk out towards his garage, a magnetic pull calling to your own darkness, molding it into his own. The sounds of a seductive low country song playing out into the calm, Texan breeze. his garage door is slightly open, a silent invitation beckoning you inside. you see the veins in his arms bulge against his rolled up sleeves as he tightened some random bolt or knob on his motorcycle, the usual string of curses soon followed. The sweet mix of lavender and vanilla wafts into the air, thick like molasses. it felt like a half lazily remembered dream between when you wake up to when you get your first cup of coffee. Tommy senses you standing behind him, watching him like a kid in a candy shop. Tommy gives you a mouth watering smile making your heart pick up its pace as a twinge of something long forgotten bloomed in your lower stomach.

He slowly inches over already knowing what you had in mind.

No words were shared within the walls and confines of the garage. Tommy got too close where you felt like you could feel his breath on your neck and brushing your jaw but still he didn’t move to touch you or to kiss you. he wanted you to beg. beg him for even just a taste. it felt like betrayal from your own skin, the way it responded to him even though his fingers hasn’t even grazed it. it was a matinée. you were the puppet and he was the puppeteer, pulling the strings of your body.

You were an itch that Tommy couldn’t scratch. it bugged him to no end seeing you prance the neighborhood whether you were going for a walk or a run while wearing tight tops where your breasts were in perfect view. the way they bounced leaving nothing to the imagination or mercy. it wasn’t some cartoonish way but real, weighted and rhythmical. he could see the sweat dripping down between the curves soaking into the fabric your nipples teasing through the cotton. with every breath, every sway of your arms whispering for him to touch and feel them, massaging your perfect peaks.

His kiss was a brand leaving evidence of his life before you, before Austin within your mouth leaving a taste of blood on your tongue. his sordid life was still a mystery to you but the feeling of his hands running down your back as the feeling of a solid wood bench presses into the delicate part of your spine. everything he is doing has a weight of ownership, scalding you to your soul. Tommy grabbed your wrist, not too hard but firm turning you around and being you over the workbench. it was sudden, jerking you as he held your head down against the rough wood. you were able to get a slight glimpse of who he really was. little trinkets and various tools matching his tough personality.

he wasn’t gentle. it was all heat, teeth and desperation. like Tommy just can’t hold it in anymore.

he tore off your shirt and pants, digging his nails into your soft hips and growled at the at the sight of your bare ass. so supple, so soft he could just take a bite out of it. Tommy’s hands roamed all over your body learning it from scratch. his clothes hit the floor, messy and careless. a zipper tuck, a groan of frustration and a soft laughter between the low gruff hum in his voice. he lifted your hips just enough as he pressed his cock inside your slick wet cunt. no teasing, no foreplay just the raw slide of skin to skin. the gasp in your throat as your pussy wrapped tighter around, the way your hips found the perfect rhythm like you have done this many times before.

it was fast, reckless, dirty there was no hesitancy in either of your actions. your head thumped the wall, his fingers dug bruises into your thighs and the sound….

god the sounds…

slapping skin, ragged breathing, the sweet gasp you made when you clenched so hard around him bringing a orgasm so delicious that you saw stars. your body made that decision for you. Tommy’s thrusts came more aggressive and needy until he filled every inch of you, so much you felt it changed your own DNA. if it did you didn't care or notice, it was about need. the need to be close to one another, the need to soothe your individual broken parts by using the other.

After he didn’t speak it was just his ragged breath and the jingle of his belt as he zipped back up his pants. it suddenly felt cold as you put your own clothes back on, his sudden aloofness sent you a feeling of shame and anger. you instantly put back up the walls you so carefully crafted around yourself. he looked at you with an unreadable expression as you walked out the garage seemingly for good

Or so you thought

April 2004

It didn’t take long for him to come to you. Tommy Miller wasn’t the type to do so but for you he was. not even a week later in the middle of the night you heard a knock on your door. no one else has knocked on it except for the mailmen and the occasional delivery package. so you knew it was him. two seconds passed since you opened the door that night and soon found yourself stumbling into your bedroom.

since then the next few months late nights and midday work breaks consisted of you two searching for some sort of solace within each others bodies. it was a perfect situation, a perfect idea until months later you realized something. you were falling in love with the bastard. he was uncaring, cold, and relentless in his search for release. so were you. every time your own demons became too much to deal with you seeked out some penance with his hands around your throat and his cock inside you bringing out unimaginable pleasure.

you found peace within the pain and love within the wounds beneath his skin. he wanted to fix but you wanted him to love the broken parts of you without needing to change. you didn’t fall for him because he’s safe, you fell for him because you were fire and he wanted to touch you regardless if it burned. still you give yourself without asking if he’ll stay or not because you know he never will and when he takes you it’s with the part that will never stay.

You fall

And you fall

And you keep falling, even when he doesn’t even try to catch you. Tommy was your diary and you wrote the word of your own pain within the pages and he did to you, leaving a mark neither one of you can forget

until it all came crashing down

You became too intertwined with him. too familiar. you started to wait for him to come over and started to miss his smile and even his voice. arguments became more frequent the both of you fighting for some form of control between each of your emotions. it finally came to a boil one night standing in his garage where you had your first encounter with him. you didn’t say how you felt but your body language, your tone did it for you. after that he stopped coming over. no more late nights and no more midday hookups either.

it was like he went missing

until one day out of habit you stepped outside with a cup of your coffee and see his driveway completely empty. it was unusual since he normally is still home that early in the morning. without realizing, you walked over mug still in hand as you notice the garage door is slightly open, walking in, the mug in your dropped to the ground, coffee and glass shattering across the concrete floor. everything…his tools, the motorcycle…everything that made the garage his was gone. every trace of Tommy Miller was gone except for a long folded up flannel on the same workbench he bent you over the first time you to had sex. it was the same flannel he wore that night, the musk of cedar and oil still imbedded within the fabric.

he was gone…

Tommy was gone….

both of you, two broken people scarred by ghosts of your own past found temporary solace within one another. and when you started to open up, finding yourself wanting him to stay longer when he came over in the middle of the night and when he started to crave your presence, both of you became almost disturbed by the peace you brought each other. it was different, unnerving. so before you could do it yourself, he ran. Running away from the one person that saw through all his bullshit, and all of his excuses. you saw the real Tommy and he felt he didn’t deserve you.

With the flannel in hand and tears in your eyes, you walk out the garage turning off the light before you left. each step felt like an eternity when you headed back for your house even though you were next door. you calmy walked back inside placing the flannel on a table by the doorway and walked into the kitchen. the smell of smoke and ash fills your nostrils as you light up a cigarette taking a long drag as you looked out the window taking in the now once again dark and desolate empty house that is now devoid of any and all warmth

And even with the light off, you swore you could still see him standing there, his shadow moving through the garage and the faint sound of a motorcycle engine.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Inspired by: @lowrisemiller Sweetgirl Ethel Cain Universe

[centaur-dreaming]

I will never get over the fact that Kevin used Jean as a means to escape but made Jean promise to stay

[numberonetribble]

When your love for each other is so great and it becomes something bigger than either of you, oh that's family baby!

[starheirxero]

No but actually if I can stand on my little soap box here for a moment. This post is genuinely deeply what happened to Lunar and I have feelings about that.

Except, I have both actual blorboing thoughts and also meta thoughts about how that mindset may have influenced the choice of Lunar's sendoff and how it explains why people were so proud of Lunar for running themselves through the machine that gave them panic attacks over and over.

Lunar was basically conditioned to feel like they're basically less than dirt, to feel like they're inherently unlovable to the core because they hurt Earth. They were put in the mind grinder and then Moon would randomly guilt trip them here and there. They got used to hating themselves because they became a "bad person" who doesn't deserve good things–a fucked up mentality is something Pollux has pointed out!! She's mentioned twice that she feels like Lunar hasn't actually "healed", they just ran themselves deeper into self hatred.

Because that's the thing!! Lunar never got better!! Lunar made some big strides, yes, but they ultimately ended up throwing it all away because they're serving an astral court that will kill them if they ever backslide like that again. They do not have the room to heal and they never will again! So, what's Lunar's old reliable method? You guessed it!!! Masking and repressing it all!!!!!!

So they're out there hiding their feelings again and they're being told it's the basically the Morally Good Thing to do after they hurt Earth. This was an idea pushed both by the family (I still have a burning rage over everything old Moon told them) AND BY THE FANDOM.

Comments encouraged Lunar to go in the mind grinder and were even proud they were "taking initiative." Posts were made about how entirely irreedeemable Lunar is now and how they don't deserve to be with the family anymore.

People encouraged Lunar to punish themselves for their mistakes–to the Correct and Good thing afterwards–rather than give them kindness and patience and proper healing.

Head in hands. Not like they would have found a good support system outside of maybe Sun but. Ugh. That's another post. It just fucks me up man... No one told them that they aren't inherently bad or unlovable because they made a horrible mistake. No one told them they still deserve basic kindness and consideration. No one told them they're still a person at the end of the day.

[jorenilee]

"woohoo!" I cried, signing up for comic days. "my first new chapter since becoming a fan of witch hat atelier!" I was then shot 28 times.

[sporksaber]

I hope the queen clarion and lord milori book has the most heartbreaking last chapter ending of an extremely painful goodbye that they just have to except, and then for that pain to be continued into an epilogue. I want brutal detail of that wound being torn back open as tinkerbelle reveals her torn wing. And then, when she heals i dont want there to be a scene of them talking about it. I want them to both feel a kind of carthartic amazement, like something in them has healed back together because they got to see someone else do what they couldnt, and then they make eye contact. And the book ends.

[butihadsimon]

So minimal school spirits fandom that I now know exists, what do we think about the theory that this whole thing started bc of a science experiment gone wrong?

(I could be misremembering here so correct me if I am) Mr. Martin and Janet died in a fire in what is now the fallout shelter, and in one of the articles they found another student in the class was blaming Mr. Martin for starting the fire and bringing Janet in there with him.

what if

stay with me here

what if, they were doing some kind of research experiment together (hence the chemical formulas in the beginning of Janet's notebook, and the shorthand) that went wrong, and what they'd done of that experiment plus them dying in the room in the fire with it, trapped their souls there.

which raises the question, when Mr. Martin locked her in that room, was it with the watch? was she experiencing that freaking red room thing relieving that day over and over for months? is that what they were arguing about right before Maddie found them? was he making her relive that to try and figure out where the mistake was in their experiment, because he wanted to try and redo or reverse it and that's why Mr. Martin was trying to force her to tell him what she saw?

as far as we know date wise Janet and Mr. Martin are the oldest ghosts, they've been there longest, they could very well be the start of it all.

[human-sweater-vest]

me and the bad bitch I pulled by being sopping wet and pathetic