#i wasn't really posting about taylor for a long time anyway

[pardonmydelays]

if you log out of this hellsite i do not blame you bc it does suck here but i will very much miss your presence 😢♥️

omg thank you so much! 🥺

yes, it really sucks to be here right now... i literally had to unfollow 100+ swifties to clear my dash cause i was sick of seeing people who are defending all her actions & shitting on joe alwyn for no reason. still, i don't even have the energy to scroll tumblr so all i do is check my messages from time to time. i definitely need a break, but seeing things like that in my inbox makes me want to think it through once again. ❤️

[autumnrory]

cowboy carter is absolutely my fave beyonce album since lemonade like it doesn't seem like a lot that i've already listened twice in two days but for me who so often is like okay i'll listen to a new release and then come back to it in a week or so bc i'm listening to so much other stuff it does show how much i'm into this one

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[celaenaeiln]

Okay but you can’t just say “I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here” and not follow up with another post because that’s just cruel 😔😞 (aka this is me saying I really like & enjoy reading your interpretations and I need more of them HEHE)

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Thank you!!!! <3333

I love thinking about how Alfred treats Dick more of a son than a grandson because their relationship is different from Alfred's relationship with the other kids. Furthermore, it also explains a bunch of his actions.

First of, I know when everyone saw that Alfred had left Dick his entire inheritance they went "What the fuck." There were a bunch of jokes and questioning about why Alfred would do that and a lot of people have wrote it off as Tom Taylor's writing. But here's the thing. Tom Taylor has done a lot of stupid stuff in terms of characterization but he's done quite a few things right and one of them was adequately explaining Dick and Alfred's relationship.

I don't know how many people can read cursive but it says, "I invested much of this wisely and ethically...In fact, I planned to come to you for advice. Like Bruce, your mind is astonishing. You are a problem-solver and the world is full of problems." (There's actually panel during one of Dick and Slade's fight I have saved so lemme know if you or anyone is interested in Dick's innovativeness and how it makes his a terrifying opponent.)

Let me pause right there. This is Alfred's life savings. It's every piece of penny he's saved and every minute of his life is in that money. On top of what he says about Dick's intellect-and I agree and can prove it-he must've loved and trusted Dick an extraordinary amount to do this.

Alfred goes on to say, "I couldn't think of better hands to leave this fortune in. I believe you will see this, not as a personal gain, but as an opportunity. Because I believe in Dick Grayson."

He continues praising him and- HERE IT IS- "I am so very proud to call you my son."

DICK IS ALFRED'S SON.

This is the cleanest, clearest panel where he explicitly says it.

Hold on-this is the cleanest panel that says it? Wait a minute, let me retract that:

"Master Bruce was my son for a while. And then there was you."

THIS MOMENT HAS BEEN BUILDING UP ON US FOR YEARS. Tom Taylor wasn't doing lip service, he was just writing the inevitable!

I swear there's a panel where Dick refers to Alfred as his dad...

*Record scratch* WHAT DID ALFRED CALL DICK? WHAT DID DICK CALL ALFRED?

THIS IS WHY I LOVE THEM!!! THEY ARE GLORIOUS, BRILLIANT, UNDERRATED, AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THE FULL EXTENT OF EITHER OF THEIR ABILITIES, LOVE, OR DEPTH OF EMOTIONS.

THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS ON A DIFFERENT LEVEL.

Take the Ric Grayson arc for another example.

Background context: Dick-Ric-was sleeping on the counter and all of a sudden he was startled out of a nightmare thus accidentally ending up bumping into the guy next to him who was drinking. Of course the guy doesn't mind only because it's Dick but anyways, here Alfred makes his entrance. Another thing I love about about this interaction is this is one of the few times Alfred has ever admitted to being in the military. The only other time I can think of him openly saying that is when he's slapping Bruce around.

The worry in the man's eyes for his wayward son...when Bea is snarking with Dick about his tab Alfred decides to pay for him instead.

LOOK AT HIS EYES AS HE SAYS GOOD NIGHT! THE AMOUNT OF EMOTION HE HAS IN THEM IS PURE PERFECTION. THE MAN JUST WANTS HIS SON TO COME BACK.

Not to mention, Alfred adores Dick in a way he didn't even with Bruce.

"For a long time I would dread coming down to this dark hellhole. But the advent of young Grayson has forced an alteration in my attitude. The masters have made much progress in these few short months. I was opposed initially to the recruitment of the lad in Master Bruce's self-appointed 'War on Crime.' But I am prepared to admit my error. Master Richard has mad a difference for the better to our lives."

This is HUGE. Coming from Alfred, this is massive because Alfred LOATHES Bruce's "War on Crime." How much?

So much that he slapped Bruce bloody for it.

The pseudo-father and son beat each other to pieces over it. So after years of Alfred hating Bruce for what he's done, for him to say he only accepts it because of Dick-because of Dick's personality-is enormous praise and accomplishment.

Alfred loves Dick in a way he doesn't love anyone else. And before I get flamed by people for suggesting Alfred loves Dick more than Bruce, I want to say he loves Dick as much as Bruce but in a different manner. He doesn't see Dick as a grandchild who needs to be coddled and softened, he sees Dick as a son he can spoil and cherish.

Him paying off the tab was not only an act of kindness, but it mimicks the way a rich father gives everything to his youngest son. Bruce was the first born he raised but Dick was the baby of their family. This also ties in with how Bruce doesn't see Dick as just him son like he does with the others. To Bruce, they are just as much brothers as anything else.

When Bruce fires Dick from Robin after two-face, Alfred couldn't take it lightly. Dick wasn't just the light of Bruce's life, he was the fucking sun to Alfred's.

I started crying when I read this because the emotions and the pain he's feeling is so visceral. A man who has been MI5 and SAS (Special Airforce Service), who has fought wars, who has fought his son, lost his best friends, is breaking down alone at the top of the stairs over not having Dick as Robin.

You might think that's not all that sad. Worse things have happened. You're overreacting.

Tears are literally streaming down my face as I'm writing this review. Rudolph nose and ugly bloodstained eyes complete with it.

Can you ever imagine loving someone so much?

Crying in silence with a steady voice to never let them know your sorrow?

But sure, sure, he's cried when others were killed like this so I'll go into other special things.

Some of his best moments are with Dick:

The pure adoration in his eyes as he watches his young son go 'flap' 'flap' 'flap' with his older brother's too big cloathes.

He's laughing! Do you know the only times he laughs or grins like that?

That's right-with Bruce! With his other son.

With Dick, he laughs, gets angry, and actually shows interest in things not related to people's health. Dick humanizes Alfred.

Who is the only other person Alfred has gotten mad at? Oh yeah. Bruce.

There's another panel where Alfred just sits by his bedside holding his hand.

It's the little things that matter is a lie. When it comes to Dick, Alfred does things in fighter jet air shows level of affection which he learned just for this during his SAS days.

Their shared interests & mutual understanding

People always think Dick and Alfred have nothing in common between them. Dick is excitable, bouncy, and some other adjective while Alfred is calming, stoic, and butler-y. They actually forget that Dick and Alfred canonically bond of plays. Dick, as I said before, is a massive theater nerd. He loves plays. He really wanted to see that shakespeare play and Alfred said he would take him because he knows people there and then went on to complain about how his brother didn't even drop by to see him. I love their interactions because Dick brings out a different side to Alfred.

Das Rheingold was a German musical drama that was performed as a single opera at the National Theatre Munich. This is the link if you're interested in reading a short synopsis of this complicated play by the Metropolitan Opera. It's like a mix of "The Lord of the Rings" and "The Rings of Power."

Also the fact that Alfred is tying his tie like a father would tie his son's.

I know they make a crack out of it by using Bugs Bunny (Bugs Bunny is a fantastic cartoon! I grew up on it!) but Alfred knows that Dick loves opera and theater and is only asking if this particular play will suit his interests. Okay, great, we know Dick likes theater. You've said that and posted about it before. But how do we know Alfred likes it too and not just because he's British and posh and whatnot?

He has preformed at the London Theater, and this is another way he connects to Dick emotionally. When Dick complains about being Batman, Alfred is the one that tells him:

This is something Alfred understands about Dick that absolutely no one in the family does.

The two of them are show people. They know how to play the role they were given, and they know how to play it well. No one suspects Alfred the Butler of ruthlessly using firearms and no one suspects Dick the Light of the Universe to ruthlessly to manipulate allies.

Dick knows this about Alfred too and never presses for any answers. When Alfred's pulling out a bullet from Dick and performing high level medical techniques he should know nothing about, Dick asks him, "Where did you learn all this, Alfred." To which Alfred responds, "You would be amazed at what you can pick up by watching the Discovery Channel." Dick just gives a pained laugh retorts about his wonderful bedside manners.

They know.

What Alfred sees in Dick is a pure goodness that can't be emulated. He loves his son for how absolutely good he is and is devastated when Dick can't be with him. Of everyone, Dick is the one Alfred is closest to. Other members have their moments with him but no one continually seeks out his presence just for the fact they like him aside from Dick. The rest treat him as an important side character, not a parent. And Alfred responds to that devotion with overwhelming love of his own.

Alfred and Bruce's optimism comes bundled up in the form of Dick. It's stunning how it's always Alfred of all people who admits this. Alfred who isn't supposed to show favoritism or bias is the one that consistently acknowledges how important Dick is to the family and him. This solidifies the fact that Dick is Alfred's favorite.

Other moments that differentiate Dick and Alfred's relationship:

We're pretty familiar with this and many of us have laughed it off when Alfred scolded Dick (also Dick looks hot af here). But can you imagine even anyone else playfully mocking Alfred? THIS. BOY. IS. SPECIAL. Alfred doesn't even blink twice at the address, indicating how typical it is for Dick to act that way with him. You only do that to people you're best friends with.

Casual comfort, the two of them.

Dick and Bruce were brothers and how that ties into Alfred:

Adding to my "Light of Bruce's life" Robin Dick canon, Alfred told Dick that Bruce "would have self-distructed if he hadn't met me and learned responsibility. I made him laugh, and he was like the greatest big brother you could ever imagine...it was our town."

Bruce and Dick are so damn codependent.

Bruce would not have survived without Dick. That's all there is to it.

Robin Dick was the light shining through rain clouds, the glitter in the air, the angel with golden wings, the giggling sweetheart to Alfred and Bruce. He was sunshine, love, and joy and the men both adored, thrived, and cherished him for it.

And if Dick and Bruce were brothers then Alfred was Dick's father and he was Alfred's son.

[tldrthor]

Come find me - peter parker x avenger!female!reader

Part two to promises, oceans deep // we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon, and in different galaxies // based on the song 'Peter' by Taylor Swift

Summary: you thought you would get over him, but you never did. It takes getting hurt, and Cap looking out for you, for you to finally get your head straight.

Author's notes: I ignore a lot of post-endgame stuff. Steve never left, Wanda isn't evil, Peter was never forgotten. I've left reader and Peter's ages semi-ambiguous, so you can decide for yourself what age you think is appropriate!

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

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Peter opened his eyes slowly, the light streaming in from the window attacking them. He must have fallen asleep without closing the curtains last night. As he came to, he realised what day it was. And a chill ran through his body.

"Peter!" May called. "Peter, get up! We're going to be late!" She rushed into the room, her nose curling up in disgust at presumably, the smell of depressed teenage boy. "God, we have to open a window in here. It's toxic."

He huffed, and rolled away from her. "May, I don't want to go." He had spoken about this with her already. He knew that Ned and MJ were going, but he didn't want to. He couldn't go, when she wasn't going to be there.

"Is it because of (y/n)?" May's voice was soft, gentle. Like she was talking to a scared, little animal. He hated the pity laced in her words. "I'm sorry she's not going to be there sweetheart, you know she's got a lot going on with rebuilding the Avengers."

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

He swallowed, sadness crossing his face, but May didn't see it. "She's avoiding me, anyways."

Words from the mouths of babes, promises, oceans deep. But never to keep. Oh, never to keep.

May didn't say anything to Peter, but she thought it was for the best. She knew how devastating it was, for both of you, to come back to see one of you had kept moving, while the other stayed in place. She saw, in the few weeks following the battle at the compound, how you looked like you was going to be sick every time you were around Peter.

She saw how you barely talked, barely smiled, barely did anything.

She hadn't been around for the five long years between the snaps, but from what she talked about with Captain Rogers, you had taken the losses particularly badly.

Snapping back to the present, she looked at Peter and wondered if you would ever find your way back to one another. She made a mental note to ask Steve how you were doing when she saw him later.

"Let's go, come on." She held his shoulder and gave it a shake. "Your parent's would've killed me if I ever let you skip your graduation."

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

The day was a blur. MJ and Ned gave him a hug on arrival, knowing that he didn't want to be here. All he could feel was the loss sitting heavy on his chest. Tony wasn't here. Natasha wasn't here. His parents weren't here. Uncle Ben. You.

There were photos and smiles and drinks. He forced himself to get through it, for May, if nothing else.

Steve gave him a big hug as soon as he saw him, knowing that he was a poor replacement for who Peter really wanted to see. "Hey! Congratulations, Pete!" He gave him a signature pat on the shoulder as Peter muttered a 'thanks, cap' back at him. Steve continued; "(y/n) sends her regards, she's sorry she couldn't come."

Peter bitterly thought that Steve was just telling him what he wanted to hear. He knew that if you wanted to be here, you would have made it happen. He wanted to be mad... but he knew this day would be too painful for you, too.

I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn. As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return.

At dinner, he was distracted. MJ and Ned were talking about the latest political news -- MJ talked about some senators voting record, while Ned relayed funny memes he had found on instagram about her. This obviously descended into chaos.

Peter was more interested in the conversation going on at the other end of the table, between May and Steve.

"So tell me, how is (y/n)?" May asked, looking at your guardian.

He looked almost... resigned. He breathed out, worry lines creasing his forehead. Peter could nearly feel the worry radiating off of him. "She's doing... okay. She's throwing herself into work at the moment, somewhere in Europe. It's all tightly under wraps, but she's an amazing agent these days."

May smiled, weakly. She knew that an avenger 'throwing themselves into work' was a worrying symptom of an emotional storm. She could see it in her own kid.

"Well, tell her we were asking for her when you talk to her next."

"I will. Thanks, May."

Peter had to know more. It was like a burning, aching in his chest. He watched as Steve silently ate his pasta, something - you - on his mind. He knew Steve hadn't said everything to May. Peter longed for the days where he would've known what you were up to.

"Pete, will you tell him to not infantilise politicians!" MJ finally snapped him out of it. Ned laughed at her outburst.

Peter snapped his head back to them. "Yeah, yeah. Ned, it's like... not good for democracy. Or whatever." He felt bad actually, because it was a good point. He just didn't have the energy to back her up right now.

"Ugh! They are employed for us." She groaned.

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

Peter's back was aching. He stretched it out, trying to power through the ache that came with changing position. Shit, he looked at the clock. It was 3am, and he had been sitting working on this assignment for way, way longer than he anticipated.

Just as he stood up to get ready for bed, his phone flashed, illuminating the room.

"What. the. hell." He said to no one. It was a text from you. God, he hadn't even seen you in more than a year now. Whenever you returned from the top-secret missions you were sent on, you were always mysteriously busy whenever Pete was free, or around. He knew you stayed at Cap's new townhouse in Brooklyn with him, but every time Peter went around, you had always just left. And every single time, Steve gave him a pitying smile while informing him that you had really urgent business to return to, but you were really sorry to miss him.

Are you up?

The text message read. Peter felt like he went through all the stages of grief reading it. He opened it immediately, cursing and praying to Jesus that he didn't have read receipts on. He hurriedly swiped off the message app when the typing bubble came up again.

Not a booty call, I promise.

He almost laughed at that. Almost.

Yeah, are you okay? He replied.

As soon as he had sent it, there was a tap tap tap at the window. He froze for a moment, his heart beat reaching an almost crescendo.

And then, he was moving.

He ripped back the curtain, threw open the window. And there you were. Hunched in the darkness of the fire escape, in a way that immediately, Peter knew something was wrong.

"(y/n)? What are you doing - are you hurt?" He watched as you moved at a near snail's pace from the way you were uncomfortably slumped on the fire escape to enter his room.

The light barely lit up the soft, painful smile as you looked up at him. "Hi, Pete." There was almost a slur in your words. Peter's eyebrows knitted together in both confusion and concern. His arms found your waist as he supported you in moving in through the window and to his bed.

Once you were settled, he strode across the room and flicked the small lamp on. He did not like what he saw.

Although your suit was black, he could tell that it was nearly soaked through with blood. Your nose was trickling blood steadily, and there was a large patch of crimson next to your ear, on your hairline. The skin he could see was littered with bruises even where it wasn't streaked with blood.

"Shit, (y/n)." He dove under his bed, to where he kept the first aid stuff from when he went out patrolling. He ran his hands through it, quickly finding suture material and bandages.

Thank god he had restocked recently, or you could've been in serious trouble. To be honest, you were in trouble either way.

He tried to triage your wounds. From what he could tell, the gash on your side that you were holding seemed to be where a lot of the blood on your torso was coming from. "You're, uhh... going to have to take off your suit, so I can see the damage."

He flushed as he said it. And he swore that he could see your face getting warmer, too. But he was so preoccupied on, you know, not letting you die, that he didn't properly register it.

"Sure, yeah." You reached your arm around to the zip, but as you moved your wounds screamed in pain. You hissed through your teeth and swore, quietly. You were all too aware that May was probably sleeping in the room next door, and you had to be quiet.

Peter reached out, "Let me help," He spoke under his breath. He unzipped you and you slowly shuffled off your suit, wearing some gym shorts and a sports bra underneath.

With the suit off, Peter could see exactly the kind of state you were in. Not only from the fight you had obviously been in, but you also looked unhealthy, almost weak. He remembered a you that always looked so strong, sturdy. This wasn't the person he was seeing in front of him now.

There were scars that were recent but clearly had begun to heal, there was bruises over every part of your body. The biggest gash on your side oozed thick, maroon blood. Looking at your face, he could see that your cheekbones were nearly hollow, your eyes sunken, and the bags under them unmistakeable.

Nothing like the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teenager he used to love.

"What happened?" He looked into your eyes as he began to tend to the wounds. Which was difficult, considering you were more wound than human at this point. He cleaned up around you gash, and then muttered 'this is going to hurt' as he began to exhibit the skills you had learned from Steve's mandatory 'basic field medicine' course a few years back.

"Ow, fuck." You mumbled, your voice strained. "I got into a fight."

"Well, yeah. I had actually figured that one out." He didn't look at you for concentrating on stitching. "A little more explanation would be good."

You breathed out slowly through the pain. "Okay, I got into a big fight."

He rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn't going to get very much information from you.

"Was it a mission?" He asked.

"No, it was - jesus." You cursed once again. It was really hard to talk while someone was continuously piercing a needle into your abdomen. "Extracurricular, you could say."

He looked up. "(y/n), this doesn't look like just a quick neighbourhood patrol." He knew you were keeping information from him because you thought he wouldn't approve.

"Why did you come here?"

You broke his eye contact. "I was nearby, and Brooklyn is a hell of a trek when you can't swing through the city." He nodded, it was a logical answer. He would always welcome you here, no matter what happened between you guys personally. He was glad you seemed to know that. "And... Cap can't know about this."

Peter's concern seemed to grow with everything you said, and you could clearly see it on his face.

"Please, Peter... He's worried already, I know it. And he's semi-retired, he deserves to rest without worrying about me." You pleaded.

He was slow to accept what you were saying. "But he's practically your dad, (y/n), he raised you. You don't think he would want to know that you're injured? Badly injured, might I add. I don't think this is even something our medical training can cover..."

You raised an eyebrow. "So, you tell Aunt May every time you get hurt?"

"Well, I've not been hurt as badly as you have."

"And if you were, you would tell her?"

He broke eye contact, and looked away. You didn't have to acknowledge out loud that he knew you were right.

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you learned. 'Cause loves never lost when perspective is earned.

The silence that hung in the air was an awkward one. It suddenly caught up to you both, what was happening. Sitting in your shorts and sports bra, on the boy you used to date's bed. The same boy you had successfully managed to avoid for the best part of a year -- with the exception of Steve's christmas party last year. Just thinking about the awkward, heart-achy small talk made a shiver roll down your spine.

"Do you want to stay here?"

The question felt loaded. Want? Need? The lines were blurred.

"If... that's okay? I can't go back to Steve's like this."

He nodded. "You know you're always welcome here. You take the bottom bunk, obviously.” He smiled.

These bunk beds used to annoy the hell out of the both of you. You just wanted to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but May and Cap had insisted that if you were going to stay round, it had to be bunk beds. And the door had to stay open.

The nostalgia made your eyes sting. It didn’t take a lot to do that these days, to be fair.

Peter jumped into the top bunk, and switched the light off. “Goodnight, (y/n).” He whispered, softly, to the darkness.

“Night, Pete.” You muttered in return.

———————————————————————

That night was the best sleep you’ve had since… hell, you couldn’t even remember when. It was probably the blood loss, or…

No, it was definitely the blood loss. For sure.

A sweet scent caught your attention as you adjusted your eyes to the sunlight filtering through the moth-eaten curtains. And the noise… music, clanging of pots, mumbling.

You checked your phone. “Well, shit.”

7.24am. 38 missed calls from “Cap 🦅🫡”.

There were texts as well.

2am: Everything okay? When should I expect you back?

2.24am: Sweetheart?

3.46am: (y/n), I’m getting worried, what’s going on?

4am: Okay, stop playing now. Call me.

6am: You’re in big trouble if this isn’t an emergency, kid.

Shit, shit, shit.

You jolted up, immediately letting out a yelp of pain as you remembered exactly why you were here in the first place. Fuck.

You pressed your hand to your stomach, with a little blood coming away with your hand. Shoddy workmanship, you laughed. You would have to sort it later.

Pulling on your suit from yesterday - thankfully, the blood stains blended in with the dark material - you realised getting home inconspicuously wasn’t going to be super easy. You listened to whatever was going on in the kitchen, the music that you recognised from when you and Peter were together. It all felt so familiar. Too familiar.

And you said you’d come and get me but you were 25, and the shelf life of those fantasies had expired. Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life, Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried to hold on, to the days where you were mine.

You weren’t proud of it, but you opened the window, and climbed out.

You didn’t see Peter’s face fall when he returned to the room, with a stack of pancakes in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. You didn’t see him stare at the smiley face made of whipped cream, mutter “I’m an idiot” and throw the stack away.

You didn’t see the tears fall.

———————————————————————

The aches and pains that pulsed through your body only grew worse the closer you got to Cap’s house. Climbing the stairs felt like a mammoth task, but as you got to the top and put your key in, the door opened -

He was mad mad. You stood in a sort of pseudo-staring contest for what felt like a long time, unsure whether or not it would be appropriate to look away. His eyebrows were furrowed further than you had ever seen, bags under his eyes larger than they had been for a long time.

“Get inside.” He borderline hissed at you. You didn’t respond, just walked. Slowly, subconsciously covering your bleeding side with your arm.

As you walked into the living room, familiar voices greeted you.

“What time do you call this?” Bucky stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed.

Sam sat on the couch in front of him, nursing a cup of coffee. Coffee so strong, you could smell it from the other side of the room. “You look like shit.”

You looked down. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

Steve put a firm hand on your shoulder. Still wordless. He pushed you towards the couch, and then down onto it.

He sat next to Sam on the one opposite, Bucky moving to sit on the other side of him. It felt like a judging panel. You supposed that’s exactly what it was.

“Explain.” Steve started. His gaze not becoming any kinder as he looked at you.

“I was with a friend-” You started.

“Which one?” Steve asked, pointedly.

You swallowed. “Um,”

“You’re lying, (y/n).” He folded his arms and leaned back. “I phoned all of your friends, you weren’t with any of them. You said to Sam after training yesterday that you were heading straight home, and here you waltz in nearly 12 hours later. Tell the truth.”

“Fine.” You sighed. You knew he was telling the truth, there was no point trying to call his bluff. “I was at Peter’s.”

You watched every one of them raise an eyebrow at the same time, nearly comedically timed. Steve sat forward in his seat.

“Parker’s? Why?” He tilted his head at you. You were glad that the anger seemed to have somewhat subsided, but you weren’t in the clear yet.

You swallowed. “I, uh…”

Sam started laughing. “Oh my god, (y/n)… you dog!” He looked at Bucky and Steve, who painfully slowly caught on to what he was referring to.

“No! No, no. No. Not that, it wasn’t like that.” You felt the heat in your cheeks and prayed that it wasn’t showing to them too, although something in Sam’s gleeful expression, Steve’s embarrassed blush and Bucky’s quiet enjoyment of the situation suggested otherwise.

“(y/n), I’m at a loss right now.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t understand. Lately, you’ve been disappearing, being secretive - I mean, last I heard you didn’t want to be around Pete at all. And now you stayed at his with no explanation whatsoever, when we were all out looking for you last night?”

Your heart sank, thinking of them worried and out on the streets looking for you. You never could lie to them for long - you should just come clean.

You gave a big sigh. “I got hurt while trying to stop a robbery in Queens, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

With that, they all sat up straight. Grim expressions replaced the more relaxed ones that you had fought so hard to keep.

“Hurt? Where?” Steve immediately stood up from his spot and marched over to your couch, scanning you over with his eyes.

You pulled your hand away from the side, where it had stayed for the duration of this interrogation. It was covered in blood.

All three men immediately jumped into action upon seeing the blood. "Woah!" Sam shouted, running for the extensive medical kit Steve kept in the kitchen.

Steve knitted his eyebrows together while putting his arm around you, looking into your eyes, presumably looking for any sort of concussion or mental delay. "You've been sitting here bleeding this whole time?" He sighed, and then sort of mumbled under his breath, "What is going on with you?"

Bucky grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and brought it over to you. "Drink it, you need sugar." You could tell from his tone that he was annoyed.

"Thanks, Buck." You whispered in return.

You watched your adoptive father's worried expression as he looked at the wounds you had sustained, and the haphazard stitches that Peter had put in last night (and the blood coming through them where they hadn't been done properly).

He fixed you, properly, and bandaged the stitches just to be sure. Sam and Bucky hand him things, making jokes occasionally that you smile at, but it does nothing to improve the cloudy look in Steve's eyes.

"Guys, can you give us a second." He ushers Bucky and Sam out of the room. Sam gets up and leads Bucky away, who still looked furious. You knew he probably wasn't this pissed off at you, and rather the people who had hurt you, but you couldn't be entirely sure. Once you're alone, Cap comes and sits next to you on the couch. "Do you have wounds anywhere else?"

You shake your head. "Just bruises and minor cuts, nothing big."

"Okay," He pursed his lips. "Let's talk then."

You avoided meeting his eyes.

"Tell me what's going on, in there." He tapped the side of your head, just like he used to do when you were a teenager at the Compound upstate. Before everyone came back.

You sighed. "I feel like an asshole." He put a friendly hand on your shoulder. "I'm really sorry for worrying you, and Sam and Bucky. I'm trying not to do that, at all. That's why I didn't come back last night."

He sighs. "Sweetheart, you should never be worrying about me. It's my job to worry about you." He puts a loving arm round your shoulder.

He took a second, considering what he was going to say before continuing, "You've not been the same since the Blip, and I know it's hard. But you have to start living again." It was nothing he hadn't said before.

"But I don't really... have anything other than work. Keeping people safe."

"Hey, hey. That's not true. You have us. You know we're your family."

"Yeah, no... I know. But I just... my friends were all blipped, and Peter..." You felt a tear spring to your eye. It had been a while since you had cried about it. "I've not felt normal since they left, and then when they came back... and I was so much older."

He rubbed your back as he watched a single tear fall.

"(y/n), Peter is older now, too. And I know he never got over you, either... why don't you talk to him?"

"I think I might have burned the bridge, Cap. I snuck out the window this morning while I think he was making breakfast."

He gave you a disapproving look that made you feel like a child being scolded. "That's not very nice, kid. I think you should chat to him."

"Yeah, I guess so." You moved to get up from the couch, but sat right back down when a shooting pain radiated up nearly your entire body. "Shit."

"Hey, hey! Sit down!" Steve pushed you back down. "On second thoughts, why don't you invite him and May round for dinner? You're not going anywhere, kid."

"Yeah, that sounds better." You laughed, meekly. "Although I have to shower..."

"I'll call Wanda to help you out with that." His quick, embarrassed tone made you laugh.

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

"Hey, there she is!" Sam shouted as you walked back into the kitchen where they were diligently making dinner. Wanda walked past you to the fridge, pulling out a soda. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Better, thanks Sam." He nodded in approval at your response.

"You look better, you know that. You looked like death warmed up earlier, and that's not even an exaggeration." You rolled your eyes at him, "You've even managed to dress nice for the occasion! It's been a while since I've seen you in anything but sweats." You pushed his shoulder, stopping the incessant chatter.

Bucky threw an arm around your shoulder. "You're a chip off the old block, y'know. Just like Stevie." You watched as it was Steve's turn to roll his eyes at his friend's antics.

The doorbell rang through the house, ending the moment. Your heart thudded in your chest, a wave of nausea overtaking your stomach. "That'll be May and Peter, I'll grab the door." Steve gave you a knowing look, like he could read your mind. "Are you going to be okay?"

You nodded, slowly, taking deep breaths. Wanda slung her arms over your shoulder, whispering "you're going to be just fine." She pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Hi, Steve," May Parker's soothing voice carried through to the kitchen. All four of you remaining in the kitchen wandered through the hall to meet your guests.

When May's eyes fell to you, you could swear there was a tear in them. But it was gone almost as quick as you could tell. "Oh my darling girl," She wrapped you in a hug, squeezing tight. It kind of hurt, but you were desperate to not let it show. You needed this. "It's been far too long, we've missed you so much."

"I know May, I'm sorry I haven't dropped by." You apologised as she dropped the hug. She put a loving hand on your face, and smiled sweetly.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. You have nothing to apologise for." Unfortunately, she didn't know the half of what you had to apologise for.

As it came to your turn to greet Peter, your heart pounded. The others ruffled his hair, lightly bullied him over how dressed up he was. It was only a shirt and sweater, you didn't really see the problem. But Bucky and Sam were always on the lookout for ways to playfully get under spiderboy's skin.

"I think you look nice." You blurted out, almost involuntarily. Bucky and Sam smirked at your outburst, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren't goading Peter, they were goading you.

"Uh, thanks... you look better," As it came out of his mouth, he realised that he was alluding to something you had asked him not to tell them. "Oh, um, I mean like good, you look good."

You laughed a little. "It's okay, Pete. I told them, we're good."

Steve interrupted, a firm hand on Peter's shoulder. "So, Pete. I hear you've been aiding my daughter to keep secrets from me." Peter gulped at his words. "Relax, kid. I'm just messing. Although we definitely have to improve your stitching skills because that was sloppy."

May stood, confused. "Peter, do you want to catch me up to speed here?"

"Sorry, May." Steve said. "I'll explain what these rascals have been up to." He linked arms with her and wandered towards the dining room with everyone else following. Leaving you and Peter standing in the hallway.

You finally flung your arms around Peter. "You told them?" He asked, at least a modicum of relief behind his words.

You nod. "I kind of had to, they had been out last night looking for me. I felt bad." You swallowed, and realised this was a good time to apologise. "Thank you for helping me out last night, I don't know what I would have done without you."

His arm raised to the back of his neck, as he looked away from you. "Hey, no problem. Anytime."

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."

"It's... alright, (y/n). You had to get home, I understand."

"No, Peter. It was shitty of me to do that to you. I'm sorry."

He smiled, his hand moving towards yours. When he got there, he wrapped yours in his, and gave a loving squeeze. It was the most romantic contact you had had since... well, since him. You were surprised that it felt so normal.

"Let's get dinner." He whispered. You nodded in agreement.

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

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Dinner was as dinner usually is. It was delicious, clearly Steve had been cooking a lot since he took a step back from the Avengers. Sam and Bucky argued while Wanda, Steve and May talked a lot about current events. You and Peter chatted mostly about what your friends were up to, and what your plans were.

"I'm thinking of going full-time with the avengers." Peter revealed. Your eyes widened, knowing that when you were younger, that's all you had both wanted. To be fighting alongside each other, permanently.

"Peter, that's amazing!" You breathed out. "But what about college, didn't you want to go to MIT?"

"Nah," He smiled. "Changed my mind. Don't think I could do avenging and college at the same time. Plus, Tony left a bunch of science stuff behind for me to finish off, so I would have my own lab at the new facility anyway."

You couldn't help the wide grin that adorned your features. "When would you move?"

"I could move anytime. Are you um, planning to go to the new facility?" He asked.

"Yeah, I was hoping to split my time between here and there." You looked over at Steve, talking with May. He didn't need you here. You knew he would love for you to stay, but he would be just fine without you. Plus, he was only semi retired. He'd probably be at the new facility more than you. "I know Bucky and Sam are going over there full-time, that's why they're crashing here for now."

"Oh, great." He sarcastically rolled his eyes and laughed.

Your conversation was interrupted by Bucky shouting over to you, "Hey, kid! Tell everyone about the time you tripped yourself up and accidentally caught the bad guy."

"Bucky, stop telling everyone about that!"

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

"Hey, do you want to go swinging?" Peter whispered, as everyone started clearing plates.

You eyed Cap nervously, knowing that you couldn't leave without telling him, again. Not after your heart to heart earlier. There was no way he would let you swing with Peter, not with as many stitches as you had.

"Maybe just a walk?" You mentioned to Peter. He glanced down at your side, where he had seen the wound last night, and agreed.

You both got up, clearing your dishes as you went. "You ask him." You whispered to Peter while the older avengers and May were still in conversation.

"What? No, you ask him." He harshly whispered back. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, Cap?" You got the attention of everyone still at the dining table.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Would it be okay if Peter and I went on a walk?"

"Of course, honey. But no swinging," he sternly looked at Peter. "and wear a jacket, it's cold out there."

"Aye aye, cap'n." You saluted him playfully, walking out of the room and waving to everyone. You would see them when you got back, anyways.

What you didn't hear was Steve asking Sam for Redwing to follow you, at a distance. Just in case.

You threw on a jacket and a scarf, opening the door once Peter had done the same. It was cold. It was that kind of biting, painful cold that really settled into your bones.

The walk was mostly silent at first, the street sounds filling the gap. You gasped quietly as Peter snaked his hand into yours as you wandered. The warmth was very nice, but the implication made your heart do double time.

"Where do you want to go?" He broke the silence.

Truthfully, you had no idea. You had absolutely no direction in your brain as your thoughts were smothered by the fact that you were together, holding hands.

"I don't mind, really." You responded.

"I know a place... but it requires climbing, is that okay?" He asked, once again his eyes wandering to where your wound was healing, under your clothes.

"Yeah, that's fine. Where is it?"

He walked with you for a little while longer. Once you reached a taller building, he motioned for you to hop onto his back, as you used to do.

"Be careful," You whispered in his ear. Your hot breath so close to him made his hair stand on end, goosebumps sticking up all over his skin.

He swallowed. "I've got you, don't worry."

And so, he climbed. It was quick, he was stronger now than you remembered. You felt his back muscles tense and relax under you as he flexed out his arms to pull you both up.

He set you down carefully once you got to the top, showing you the view. You wondered how he had found these places, how he always had the most extraordinary little pockets of New York that he reserved, just for you.

"It's gorgeous." You sighed, contentedly.

You could feel his eyes on you. You could tell exactly what he was thinking, without even seeing his face. His hand wrapped itself in yours, as you pulled your jacket and scarf closer around you.

"Are you cold?"

Before you could even respond, his jacket was wrapped around your shoulders. You smiled at his chivalry, drawing the jacket around you and appreciating the extra protection against the elements.

"(y/n), can we talk?" You felt his eyes on you again. You nodded at him, unable to find words as your blood pumped ferociously around your body. "I want to try again..."

Your eyes widened at his confession.

"I mean it," He continued. "I've never... I've never stopped loving you. I've spent years trying to move on, but I haven't. There's no one like you in the world. No one."

His hand lefts yours, and found your cheek. His eyes wandered over every freckle, every scar, every bruise he could see. "You are so beautiful."

You were at a loss for what to say. You had craved these words since the moment you left Clint's farm that day. You could barely hear anything anymore, as the moment melted away to just you, and him.

And so, you did what you had wanted to do for so long.

You kissed him.

As your lips connected, it took a second for him to even register what was happening. But once he did, the passion, the emotion you felt in that moment was like nothing you had ever experienced. His hands tangled in your hair, desperately drawing you towards him.

This wasn't like to loving kisses you used to pepper over each other's lips. This was need, it was animalistic. It was war and anger and heat. It was love.

When you both finally pulled away, your breath was ragged. You placed your forehead on his, your hot breath tickling each other's faces.

"I've never stopped thinking of you, Peter." You admitted. "Not for a second. I've always regretted walking away from you, hurting you like that." You screwed your eyes shut, the pain of the memories a little too much to bear.

He raised your face until your eyes met his. "It wasn't your fault. I left you behind in the snap, and you spent five years mourning me. I never blamed you for what came after, (y/n). Never."

His words soothed the pain in your chest. You had always wondered.

"I want to start fresh with you. I want to go on dates and get to know you, as you are now. I want to be normal kids..." He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I want that too, Pete."

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one short and sweet. "Good," He looked into your eyes, a mischievous glint in them. "Then we should probably get you home, we've got an early start tomorrow."

You raised your eyebrow in questioning.

"I'm taking you for breakfast, sunshine."

[pedantic-poison]

golden | MS47

GIF by brawn-gp

pairing: black cat gf! fem reader x golden retriever bf! mick schumacher

warnings: fluff! and also a brief but very explicit mention of oral (f receiving) and p in v (oops lol)

requested: yes!

word count: 0.9k

author's note: second time posting this because the first time it didn't show up in the tags at all so thanks for that tumblr! anyways yes this IS so extremely inspired by the song daylight by taylor swift not that anyone asked but the second i read the request i couldn't help it

you'd met at a party, where you'd been standing quietly in a corner, drink in your hand, content to just mind your business without talking to anyone until you'd been there long enough that you wouldn't feel bad leaving

it was some friend's birthday, not close enough that you had to spend most of the night with them, but you like them enough to make an appearance, even though you hated parties

Mick, golden boy that he is, was the center of attention without really meaning to be

talking to everyone like they were an old friend he'd known for years, and at some point he looked up and realized that you were the only person in the room who he hadn't spoken to

he didn't even know your name, actually

and he couldn't help himself, he was just too curious, and he thought you were so gorgeous, he figured it was better to just go talk to you than to stare at you with heart eyes from across the room

Mick is such a sunshine boy that even when other people sometimes find you a little standoffish, when he first saw you, he just adored you right away

wasn't intimidated by you at all he was just completely enamored

initially, you were a little overwhelmed by him, kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and show that it was an act

how sweet he was, how kind, how considerate, the way he would listen to you so intently, like the moment you opened your mouth to finally speak the rest of the world faded away

you just couldn't believe that he was being genuine, that he really cared about you that way

but the look on his face when he's watching you is so earnest

he didn't mind that at first you weren't very talkative, or that it took a little while for you to really trust that his affection for you was real

besides, he can talk enough for the both of you anyways

you finally had to confront just how much you cared about him because of the shit show with Haas

more than once Mick had to talk you down from personally fighting G*nter on his behalf

and once you finally let those walls down and let him in? Mick was stuck to you like glue

he'd come home, or back to your shared hotel room, after a long day during race weekends and just collapse onto you, laying his head on your chest while you'd scratch his head or his back

he fell asleep like that, on top of you, more than a few times

sometimes you weren't really sure what to do or say, but Mick would just assure you that you were making him feel better, that you were doing everything right, even when he was the one who needed comfort

and when you have a bad day at work or school?

that man pampers you like a princess

he literally will not let you do ANYTHING for yourself

and you don't even have to tell him that you had a rough day, he can just see it in your face the moment you walk through the door

he gives you these mini lectures about asking for help when you need it, reminding you that you help him when he has a tough time, and that it's only fair for him to get to return the favor

if you ever try to tell him that he's already so sweet to you, all the time, he won't hear it

just ushers you towards the couch or bed with your favorite blanket in hand

he'll have you lie back against his chest, nestled in between his legs, so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to him, tight and comforting

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head

bubble baths, your favorite foods and shows, holding your book in front of your face for you so your arms don't get tired, kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder each time he turns the page

supporting your body with his as he finger fucks you until you're shaking, caging you in with those big, buff arms and his warm body, your legs draped over his so he can keep them open for him, surrounding you and overwhelming all of your senses, so all you can feel or think of is him, his free hand roaming your body, massaging your tits and reaching up to cradle your throat so he can tilt your head back to give him better access

or making you ride his face so you can make yourself feel good, until you've cum so many times and so hard that you can barely see straight, and then fucking you into the mattress, deep and slow, whispering words of praise about how you're doing so well for him, how you feel so good, looking so pretty while you take his cock like a good girl

when you're overthinking and can't stop worrying about something, and his usual pampering tricks don't work, he'll just fuck you dumb, make you go mindless with pleasure so that you can't think period

he hates having to be away from you for race weekends, even now that he's with mercedes and isn't fighting for his life every weekend

even when you're both busy, he'll always manage to make time for you, dropping in and surprising you, even if it's only for a few days before he's off to the next track

he's also completely immune to any of your usual attempts at self-sabotage

he doesn't let you lash out at him or start fights or have huge blow out arguments

he just wants to give you the whole world

and you just want him

because his love isn't black and white, or burning red

it's golden

like daylight

[m1ssunderstanding]

Notes on Nowhere Boy

Finally posting the long version of the close-watch I did for @sleeper9's Fete zine. The bad thing about me is I hate spending money and love pirating shitty quality versions of movies. The good thing about the Beatles fandom is we're used to dealing with grainy pics. Anyways, here goes!

The opening ten seconds really do set the tone for the film, and here's why. It's the opening of A Hard Day’s Night where the boys are running from a hoard of screaming fans and George biffs it. John sees him go down, laughs, and keeps running. Only here, it's just John. George’s fall has been erased, making John into a cocky, if slightly insane, little lone hero. 

Mimi: do I ignore you? No. So please don't ignore me. Me: ummm, yeah you do ignore him, Mimi. Enough to leave deep psychological scars. But it's fine. Moving on.

Ugh, Uncle George is so sweet! I wonder how much of John's sweetness he learned from him. I wish we knew more about him.

Actually that was Jim that set up a cord running into Paul's room from the radio downstairs. But it fits Uncle George's character, so it works. 

Why did they make Mendips look a lot more working class than it actually was? No fancy iron fence, no pretty hexagonal outcropping, no stained glass veranda? 

Aaron Taylor Johnson is nailing it though. The laugh sounds very John, and this posture? Perfect. 

Okay but if that doesn't heartbreakingly encapsulate John and Mimi I don't know what does. Uncle George has just died. John goes to Mimi, wraps her from behind in a tight embrace and lets out a sob. Her response is to push him away. “Please, let's not be silly. If you want to do that, go to your room.” Alright, it's making me feel things, it's winning me over. 

John making his cousin Stan go and ask Mimi where Julia is is also extremely accurate. Always had someone to do the dirty work for them, all of them. 

Mimi's concern as John's going to visit his mother in the “bad” part of town is very good to have in too. “And you will be careful, hmm? Careful who you talk to.” And John's response, “it's only Blackpool, Mimi.” It's true. It could've been Speke, or the Dingle. Which Quarryman did I read saying Mimi didn't like John even leaving Woolton?

John's hurt little face when he finds out his mum, all this time, has been less than a bus ride away is a very clever way to show us his painful confusion about the whole situation. 

Trying to remind myself that this is a very anti-Julia pro-Mimi movie that will try to make me think she's crazy. But it sure is doing a hell of a good job. She hasn't seen him in years and suddenly she's hand feeding him desserts, kissing him every chance she's got, flirting all over the place. “Do you know what it means? Rock and Roll? Sex.” “Don't tell Mimi, alright? This is our little secret. Promise me.” And to a poor affection-starved boy, that's going to feel good. That's going to put thoughts in his head like “this is how it should be”. I mean I know she was wild and fun and sexy and irresponsible. And I know John did have weird thoughts about her. But I hope she wasn't actually this crazy. 

But the weird Freudian thing aside, he's got to be so terribly confused hearing the woman who effectively abandoned him declaring her love for him. Between Mimi and Julia, John would've had such a messed up idea of what that word meant. 

The Daily Howl, my absolute beloved!!

Nowhere Boy John watching Elvis: damn I've gotta get the girls screaming for me like that! Actual John watching Elvis: he's so beautiful! He's perfect! I'm in love!

Also I do not think sixteen year old John was that good at fingering. Just saying. 

This part always drops my heart cold into my stomach. Poor John. Poor poor baby. You can hear his little boy voice calling, “mum? It's me.” And she mutters, very annoyed, “go away.” Again. I have to remind myself that this is a purposely negative portrait of Julia. But then. It is true that she was a mostly absent and wholly undependable figure in John's life. 

Sometimes dialogue is absolutely perfect. Like this – “Aw, why couldn't God make me Elvis Presley?” “Cause he was saving you for John Lennon.” “Aw I'll get you back for that, God!” And this – “you haven't told Mimi, have you?” “No point going through her bullocks if I don't have to.” “Why? She has to go through yours.” “Yeah well I never asked her to, did I?”

Ugh this whole movie just hurts so bad! How he looks to Julia as Mimi is ordering him out of her house, just begging her to claim him this time. And she doesn't until he makes a stand for himself. And then, later. “How long can I stay?” Is met with nothing. Not even a fake “long as you want, love.” It really plays into the title of the film. This boy's got nowhere to call home. And then, the final straw. Look at his face as he hears Julia agree that he does in fact need to go back to Mimi's. If I did that kind of thing, I'd actually be crying right now. Fuck, why was I knit-picking, this movie is working so well. 

 As he's announcing he's leaving Julia's, John wants her to tell him to stay. To at least pretend it's not what she wants. And she doesn't even look at him. Imagine if they did something like this in the John biopic mirrored with a scene with Paul in the breakup?

He's just so adorable looking at that guitar like he can't believe it's real.

John's gathered the og Quarrymen in the bathroom and Pete goes “I take it we're not here for a communal crap.” Idk Pete, wouldn't put it past him. It's not far off what you all do already.

It's making the Quarrymen look kinda cool here, and I really want them all to be shit except John, just because that's what I get from Paul's description. Not that he's biased or anything. He could've been watching John play with Elton John and David Bowie and he'd still say everyone faded into the background. 

Also Mimi would Not have been there. Not on her life. 

Okay now we're sort of seeing them from Paul's perspective. Bunch of losers surrounding this inimitable shining star. 

Accurate that the first thing John says to Paul is about jerking off. 

The dynamic in general is just so well-done in this first scene. John instantly testing Paul. How much shit will he put up with? And Paul instantly having none of it, showing off, and winning John over. 

All the other Quarrymen just know it's time to dust off the ole resume. 

But! Paul's fete “audition” is so toned down for this film. Although of course, accounts vary. He did 20 flight rock, yeah. But he also did it on someone's borrowed right hand guitar turned upside down. And he did little Richard and played the piano, and tuned John's guitar for him. In one telling of it, John says he asked him to be in the group right there on the spot. So. Yeah. 

But either way, watching John watch Paul is just gorgeously gay. It's giving extreme “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” It's actually illegal not to queerbate using Lennon/McCartney and I'm glad all moviemakers seem to understand the law.

Cut to “John, your little friend's here!” Can you imagine if they'd showed the “chalk and cheese” whirling dervish moment? Or Mimi making Paul use the back door? Those might change some thoughts and feelings in this movie. 

And then we get the reciprocated “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” Moment as Paul's too busy checking out John’s buddy Holly Look to remember where he is, let alone what cord they're on. And it's so sweet because Paul's the first person who gives John the idea that his real self is actually cooler than his tough-guy act. 

The little matching feet tapping?? Eee it's so cute! 

But why miss the opportunity for them to sing in harmony here?

Sometimes the dialogue is extremely inaccurate. “So mummy’s cool about baby Paul wanting to be Elvis?” “Oh she would've loved it.” Like hell she would've. She would've been as disapproving as Mimi. Then again, maybe it is accurate for Paul to be lying about that.

“Well she – she sort of – died. You know, em. If we're gonna do this we should write our own stuff.” Okay yep there he is. That's Paul. 

Also love how John gets his first calluses after Paul the bossy taskmaster comes into his life. (You know. And the reason to push himself and a person who cares enough to take the time to show him things and it makes John all dreamy staring at the stars that night etc) Anyway. It's perfect. 

And the first gig we see after Paul joins is in a venue on a real stage with a much bigger audience, and the matching suits of course. 

Mimi selling John's guitar because of a bad report card is like the lighter, kinder translation of what happened in reality when she had his dog put down while he was staying at Julia's. 

So they kinda make up for not letting Paul sing etc by having him nail the guitar instead of screw up at this gig like he did irl. 

And he's stealing Julia's attention, which is clearly Not okay with John. Reminds me of that quote of Paul's about how they were both in love with John's mum. 

George is appropriately infantile. Good. Cutie. 

The Quarrymen playing “That's Alright, Mama” as John's making up with Julia since she bought his guitar back for him. Okay. Very clever. 

Paul does Not like John disrespecting his mother after the show for obvious reasons. (“I said something wrong now I long for yesterday.”) But clearly he doesn't have the full picture here. I wonder at what point irl Paul got a full run-down from John on his messed-up family life. Or did he just have to pull it together piece by piece over the years?

And of course he jumps to light Julia's cigarette. Boy was patting his pocket for a lighter like it was the race of his life. Mister steal your mum.

Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, Paul McCartney’s number two complaint about this movie: John was Not taller than him. How dare they? Slander.  

That's one hell of a jacket.

At the party, John's of course pissed to find Paul serenading Julia in the kitchen. But Paul just wants a mommy so bad, John. Why can't you just let him have yours since you clearly don't want her? Right, because you really, really do. More than anyone can understand. But when you showed her that – how bad you wanted her to be your mum, not just a friend – she hurt you. Forced you to go through your abandonment all over again. So now you can't show that anymore. 

The washboard over Pete's head is almost exactly accurate, isn't it? John does not handle people leaving him well. 

Ugh his little voice cracking on the word “mum.” John Lennon is a poor poor baby and I will die on that hill.

I wonder how John did find out about Victoria and the real story of why he was with Mimi. No matter how, though, that's certainly a lot of mess for a young man to be carrying around with him all the time in his head. 

“When your father came back from the merchant Navy, he wanted to try and save the marriage, but your mother would have none of it.” I do feel like we're going with Alf’s version of events here, the one he sold John in order to get into his good graces after he was famous. Which is, again, not fair to Julia. I wonder how little Julia feels about this movie. 

In fact, I think this part –  “who do you wanna be with, John? Do you wanna be with me or do you wanna be with your mum?” – has been categorically disproven. But it certainly does make for some high drama. And John himself did believe his father's story, so there has to be at least some emotional truth there. 

Nowhere Boy John: There's no point in hating someone you love. I mean really love. IRL John: How do you sleep, you cunt?!

There he is. Art School John. Though he fell in love with every iteration of John, I think this one never left his head because he was one of the earliest Johns, and he was a John Paul had to fight for, you know, with all the Stu business and dead mother anger.

He really does an excellent job of playing John, though, when he's written right. “Woman took her kit off and we painted her breasts. Not actually physically. I got my eye on you two.” Ridiculous. Charming. Off- putting. Adorable. 

Ignoring the fact that I prefer to think of “Hello, Little Girl” as being about Paul (“you never seem to see me standing there”) and they're making it about Julia, this is a lovely scene. With John somewhat unsure still of his songwriting abilities and Paul looking up at him from the floor full of admiration. 

Oh he's gonna murder someone. To be fair, I think playing Julia's banjo at her funeral is exactly the type of insensitive thing Paul would do, because he just thinks and feels in music and it makes Sense to him even though of course it's going to piss John off. 

Hilarious, and probably accurate tbh, that Paul's pissed John off so he gives Pete a bloody nose.

But here we go, the number one complaint about this movie from Paul, which I think is actually valid. John never hit him and that was important to both of them and it's disrespectful to portray it and play into the myth of their rocky, angry relationship. 

But maybe in 2009 that's what it took for them to be able to show John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a genuine, loving embrace, crying into each other's necks about mothers. It has to be preceded by John punching Paul in the mouth. 

If I was John's writing partner, my biggest beef with this movie would actually be the scene where they're recording ISOATD and making it look like John wrote it and played the guitar solo. But Paul's never even mentioned it. Which I guess really shows he cares far more about the legacy of his relationship with John than his career legacy. Which. If you mean more to Paul McCartney than his fucking music? Well then you must be just about important enough to have your own movie. 

This is really the Vote for Mimi Smith campaign, isn't it? Putting across the screen the fact that John called Mimi every week until he died as “Mother” plays in the background is brutal. Ouch. But it's true. “It's Mimi time.”

[alex-turners-world]

So, I watched Taylor's live and it was quite fun to watch actually and very insightful I must say. So I thought I'd just write a summary of that live because she talked a bit about Alex, heartbreak, healing and, you know, just some bits about that time in her life.

1. Taylor said that she met Alexandra Savior through Alex. And that her favorite Alexandra song is "Shades". She's said multiple times that she loves Alexandra. ( Love their friendship) Also she said that she has common friends with the ex. People asked her about Miles and she didn't give any answers, which is fair. By the way she said that she hadn't listened to Miles's latest album.

2. People asked her why she shaved her head and she said that she had wanted to do it for a long time and that Alex supported her about it.

3. One of the questions was whether the line "I know what you're thinking" is about her and she replied that she doesn't know. (she listened to the album I think 👀)

4. Someone was bringing up Louise's cheap cosplays and I think Taylor saw the comment, but didn't read it out loud, but said it's pitiful (lol, I hope I heard it right and really said that because the audio was a bit bad at times. Queen anyways)

5. She said that she doesn't regret any of her tattoos 👀 (Owning it. I respect that very much)

6. She said that she regrets the way she reacted to the harassment comments. (I respect that too. And she actually apologized for it in her stories a while ago)

7. Someone asked "what are the red flags in men?" Taylor just answered that there are many forms of narcissisim. It's definitely about Alex. After the breakup she liked many posts on IG about narcissisim and emotional abuse, don't really remember what those posts were about, but you can check on @snarcticmonkeys they have literally everything. So I think it's safe to assume that Alex is actually a narcissist, which is pretty believable, considering his behavior. And most musicians/actors are narcissists so...

8. There's was a juicy question about whether she had received an explanation about the breakup and she said "no". I think we all suspected that, but now we have confirmation of that.( P.S. Alex is a fucking dickhead and a coward. And a cheater.)

9. She was asked if she wants to get married and have kids and she said "yes and no". (Her answer was really unsure. I found it interesting, given how much she wanted it while she was with Alex. She probably really loved him and wanted to build a family with him and it was not just a general goal in life, you know. )

10. She said she was an alcohol addict and that she was really struggling in 2018 and she made some mistakes back then

11. She also said a few times that the relationship just wasn't meant to be.

12. Taylor said that her favorite movie is Blade Runner, but I think it's quite obvious.

13. Oh someone said that she should tell about what Alex had done and sell it to some magazine or something along the lines. She said that she would never do that ( Shame though. She really should write some memoirs at some point)

14. Good things: she doesn't drink alcohol anymore and occasionally smokes cigarettes. (Good for her, honestly)

15. She said she's been single for 6 years, so no any boyfriend after Alex. She said she doesn't feel connection with anybody.

So that's all I could remember to be honest, if anyone has watched it and wants to add something or discuss it, you're very welcome. I personally found her live quite interesting and I'm actually looking forward to her next live cause she said she would do more.

Overall she seemed to have moved on from that relationship, she was quite chill talking about all those things. I'm actually surprised she even answered some questions about their relationship. Oh she also said that she's fine with people commenting under her posts about tlsp. She was really nice and calm, I think when she said she's "healed" and that she's "happy", she really meant it. Good for her.

Anyways I'm Team Taylor now apparently hahah. And Alex can fuck himself and his cheap groupie.

[bunnyreaper]

speak now

pairing - john price x f!reader

wc - 2k

warnings - weddings, possibly unrequited love, exes, post-break up, jealousy, swearing, wee bit of angst

notes - more price because i am falling hard for this man and no one and nothing can stop me? taylor swift inspired as always!

read pt2 here! have a request? drop it on me! or read this fic on ao3!

John Price is well-versed in holding himself back. As an army man and trained operator, he usually has an unbreakably tight grip on his own self-discipline. 

Those traits were things John would hold dear about himself, hold to be true and unwavering—until recently, just under a year ago now.

That's when everything started to crumble.

The task force's recent mission had gone surprisingly well, and John had found his cigar intake was less than usual and his lungs were happier for it—fortune was smiling down on him, until he got that news . 

You'd shown up after your leave, an unmistakable brightness in your step... and a rock on your finger. 

John remembers the way his jaw clenched as he bit his tongue and forced a half smile onto his face. 

"Congratulations, love." He whispers, pulling you in for a hug—he allows himself that much at least, even if this only serves to test his resolve even further. 

The way you feel in his arms, the way you clutch at his neck, the familiar smell of your perfume—it almost pushes him to the edge, almost pushes him to tell you that you're making a mistake. Why won't you just come back to me?

Your bodies fit together so perfectly, like they always did, just for the briefest of moments.

"Thanks, John." You say as you pull away, your voice wavering as you desperately search his eyes for his approval. 

He knows what you're looking for, and with all his aforementioned discipline, he forces his eyes to soften, forces himself into the shape of exactly what you seek as he speaks. "I hope he makes you very happy." 

A truth and a lie. A double-edged sword. 

"Yeah." The way your posture shifts suggests to John you were expecting another response, it doesn't go unnoticed by him as you continue. "Me too." 

The silence stretches on, and John's skin starts to itch, the words start to bubble up and tickle his tongue—they're right there.

He can't say them, shouldn't say them, won't say them.

"Better go tell the boys then." He adds, clapping your arm in a friendly gesture and dismissing you, because he knows you're at least kind enough to give him the courtesy of letting him know first. 

And he urges you to leave because he needs you gone, he needs to process.

"Yeah, gotta ask Johnny to be my maid of honour." You laugh, and the melody only makes his chest ache more. 

***

You'd given him more outs, more opportunities to speak up time and time again, yet he hadn't taken any of them. 

You asked him directly if he would be there long before sending the invites, to which he'd stupidly replied of course before you could even finish your worried thoughts. 

Not only that, but you double-checked his invitation response to make sure he wasn't bringing a plus one, almost as if you wanted him to have someone there. He had no one he wanted to bring. 

You'd gone out of your way to not discuss wedding planning in front of him, and had diverted conversations away from the topic if you knew he was in earshot. You were trying to make this as painless as possible for both of you, and he could tell. 

Why couldn't he just move on? Why couldn't he just be your friend? Better yet, why couldn't he just be honest about how he felt?

"Is this... weird for you?" You ask one day as the two of you sit together in silence as you scribble away inside a planner.

He knew you were working on arrangements for the wedding, but had sat beside you anyway, and had asked questions he didn't really want the answers to just because he knew you wanted him to care, to be okay with it. 

"No, darling." He lies, the words coming out in an instant, the pet name a relic of the past he can't let go of. "Is it weird for you?" 

Suddenly, you can't meet his eyes and your fingers still, no longer writing whatever it was you were. "I don't know. I know it shouldn't be." 

It's weird because it's wrong, John notes in his head. It's weird because it should be us planning our wedding together.

His eyes are fixed on you, waiting for you to look up and hoping you'll finally see the way he still looks at you. Hoping you'll take one look at his sorry state and realise this whole thing was a terrible mistake. 

"What yer talking about?" Soap swings a leg over the chair beside John, severing the moment in two, dashing any hope he had.

You feel the snap too—the awkwardness, the forbidden in where the moment was heading, as you rush to divert Soap from the truth. "Wondering if I can convince you to wear a dress." You smirk.

"Want me to steal yer thunder, bonnie?" He chuckles and winks.

Your eyes roll back, yet a smile pushes through, and whatever you were thinking about is pushed from your mind. "You can certainly try, Johnny boy." 

John excused himself after that, having to take a moment to remember how to breathe. This had all gone too far, and yet he can't bring himself to do anything about it. It wouldn't be right, it would be selfish, and that was the one thing he'd tried not to be.

That's why he'd ended it with you in the first place. 

He'd told you back then that you deserved better, and yet now he wishes more than anything he could have swallowed those words.

Now he's choking on them.

Here he stands, in the front row of the ceremony room, feeling entirely helpless and consigned to his grim fate.

Your future husband is standing just a few feet away, looking fucking smug. John's skin crawls looking at him, just as it always has. 

Was it a legitimate feeling about the man, or just the fact he was dating you? Marrying you?

Regardless, right now all John wants to do is give in to the itch in his fists, lunge across the aisle, and tell him to just let you fucking go, let you come back where you belong. 

Really, he knows he's only got himself to blame—he was the one who let you go, practically pushed you away. Always self-sacrificing, John Price, even to his own detriment, even when it means letting the love of his life walk away into the arms of another man.

An undeserving man at that.  

As John is practically staring daggers into your fiancé's brain, the man stares back, the smug smile now directed at John—because he knows that John is seething. He knows he beat him, got the girl, got the life John wanted. 

John's not entirely beaten. He's still here, after all.

The fiancé's little plan to get John uninvited almost ended the entire wedding. God damn the power of love and compromise, as now John has a front-row seat to his worst nightmare. John hates that he wishes that argument had been the end of it all.

He's braved the battlefield, stared death in the face, and yet this, this feels like the gravest end, the death of something more meaningful than just his mortal life.

The two men's standoff is broken by the sound of doors opening, and the harpist in the corner strumming her instrument to life and filling the room with an angelic melody. It's still not enough to cut through John's mood and spare him from his festering regret. 

The processional goes by without a hitch—the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Johnny, all making their way down the aisle with fond, celebratory smiles on their faces. John isn't blind to the waver in Johnny's smile when he meets his subordinate's eyes.

And then everyone turns. 

His eyes land on you, his breath vacating his body, his heart lurching, his spirits soaring—you're just so breathtakingly beautiful .

Everything he ever envisioned, when he dreamed of being the one waiting for you at the end of the aisle. 

He prickles, knowing the dress isn't what you wanted, but your fiancé's mother's dream instead. He hates knowing under the ivory gown you're walking on uncomfortable heels at someone else's insistence, with a man by your side partaking in traditions you hate. 

It's your wedding day in name only.

He's transfixed as you move closer and closer, lost in memorising your face as a blissful smile overtakes your features. He wants you to be happy, in many ways, yet maybe his heart is fighting so hard because he knows you'd be happier with him .

Your eyes meet John's as you near the end of the aisle. Your feet stall, your expression drops. Tears streak down John's cheeks, tracking their way to the pained smile on his lips—the sight of which burns right through you. 

He watches as your fiancé's father urges you on, and you take your final few steps to the front, standing before your husband-to-be as you look over each other. Dry eyes, John notes to himself bitterly as everyone in the room takes their seats.

The officiant begins to speak, but the words are beyond John's comprehension, all he can focus on is you—the soft rise of your chest in the lace bodice, the blue pearl earrings dangling from your lobes that were a gift from Johnny. He remembers helping the man pick them out, unbeknownst to you.

What strikes him most is the look in your eyes, yet he doesn't trust himself to accurately assess what lurks behind them—maybe he's just seeing what he wants to see—dullness, pain.

It's nothing like the looks you gave each other when you were still together, not filled with nearly as much love, or reverence, or joy. 

Your eyes aren't filled with tears like he expected, as he recalls one day the two of you laid in bed together, whispering sweet nothings. You'd commiserated in the fact that you both knew you'd be blubbering messes on your hypothetical future wedding day. 

It wasn't meant to be that boy up there, holding your hands and waiting to slip a ring on your finger—it was meant to be him, John.

The world around him comes back into focus as the words ring around him.

"As they say, speak now, or forever hold your peace." 

There's a silence, every thought and impulse in John's mind wages war on itself as he forces himself to his feet and all eyes turn to him. 

He doesn't notice the horrified looks, the concerned shock from the 141 boys, or the way Simon's hand tugs at his sleeve. 

All he's looking at is you, the spark that ignites within your eyes. 

He has to force himself to speak, his voice coming out gruffer, more emotional than anyone who knows the man has ever heard, as the words tumble from his lips. 

"Y/N, don't do it." 

[genderfluid-strawberry-of-doom]

i reread hammer of thor and i decided to list out some stuff i feel has been overlooked by the fandom

and stuff that hasn't been overlooked (at all) but i HAVE to mention it anyway. because reasons

also it's not THAT long of a post but it's pretty long so i put a cut there

nobody ever mentions the 'thinking cup' like whyyy

alex fierro the cheetah and weasel :)

"the gender thing wasn't what surprised me. what surprised me was the way my impression of alex had slingshot and the emotions that had stirred up"

magnus mentioning that he had been stuck in one gender his whole life and that it didn't bother him except the way it was worded made it seem like he was unsure about it jsfjfisfidgkgd

i don't think it's overlooked but the scene in which magnus is watching alex eat and halfborn goes "there's no shame in being attracted magnus" and he CHOKES

(not overlooked at all but) HEARTH'S POSESSIVENESS OVER BLITZ <333

(DEFINITELY not overlooked but) "buddy" *proceeds to take hearth's hands in his own*, "what is wrong with my elf" 😭😭

inge being fucking abused by alderman?? she was beaten??? and the iron on the door locks is harmful and extremely painful to hulder??? THAT ASSHOLE ALDERMAN

(in context to inge explaining that alderman kept a patch of wilderness in his backyard bc hulder need wilderness to live and so that he can 'hire' more help) "she said hire. i heard catch" BITCH-

the fucking wergild. i have a lot of thoughts about that and all of them involve alderman dying

also hearth's mom doesn't really seem like much of a good person either? she didn't stop alderman from being abusive towards hearth or the house staff AND she literally just cared about her reputation. maybe she wasn't as bad as her husband but she was still pretty bad (parallels there between hearth and alex)

also parallels between hearth trying to stop alderman from taking andvari's ring and trying to "pull his dad out from a hole deeper than andvari's" and magnus trying to save randolph from falling into the hole in the ground that led to helheim-

hearth and samirah's dynamic?? they've already had a fight and patched up AND were stuck together during the utgard lanes chapters. soooo a lot

also hearth and alex's brief interactions lol

"just, you know, a little respect" "for the girl with the sharp wire? no problem" "there was nothing confusing abt the smile she gave me. it warmed up the office by about five degrees" I LOVE THEM A TOTALLY NORMAL AMOUNT

amir fadlan. AMIR FADLAN EVERYBODY <333

samirah being a girlboss. samirah handling all the stress. samirah trying to show her true self to amir. samirah braving everything put in her way with courage. just samirah <3 <3 (everybody in the whole universe should be in awe of her btw)

the scene in which they're sitting on stanley (the eight-legged horse) and magnus is nervous to hold on to alex but she just takes his hands and puts them around her waist <3

for some reason i had assumed alex had cut magnus's hair for the first time in the woods but no. it was blitz? hm

magnus's casual mention about utgard loki being attractive ajsfjfsi

taylor swift being dwarf music and prince being giant music?? (and that giant named tiny being obsessed with elvis)

an alex speech pattern which isn't much of a pattern but it repeated twice in the book: once she said (in response to hearth signing something she didn't understand. this was around the time when she and samirah revealed that alex would be taking samirah's place) "yes alex. thank you alex for being so brave and heroic." and then the other time (in the end when magnus is visiting her in her room and picks up one of her pottery projects) "no you can't touch it magnus. thanks for asking magnus" idk i just think it's cool

the trophy wife thing. sif deserves better tbh

"a girl who was rocking that wedding dress"

alex straightening magnus's tie or smth and magnus's inner monologue going "she still smells like wood smoke. why does she still smell like a campfire?"

samirah's wedding outfit?? (sounds gorgeous tbh. except for the hood which) also i have a related question. is the hood in place of hijab thing disrespectful? /gen

sif and alex dynamic <3

sif's gifts to hearth (pouch of rowan runes) and alex (golden garrote)

alex and most other shapeshifters make random animal noises and shapeshift to random animals when they're nervous

halfborn's "death and glory," mallory's "kill everyone," and tj's "charge" aksfkfiovdm. and the way magnus just becomes so much stronger when he sees his friends-

the scene at the end of the marriage battle thing when alex is all concerned because she thinks magnus doesn't believe that she was just pretending to be under loki's control and sHE'S TRYING TO CONVINCE HIM AND HE SQUEEZES HER HAND JDFJSFKFK THIS SCENE IS NOT TALKED ABOUT ENOUGH

alex canonically calling magnus "sunshiny" and RESPECTING AND ADMIRING HIM AND HIS HEALING POWERS. they make me weak

samirah and magnus's dynamic is not given enough love. they are figuratively SIBLINGS and that level of closeness is not recognized by the fandom enough

(also not really about the book but. the UK cover of 'hammer of thor' depicts samirah with half of her hair falling out of her hijab. which. who tf designed these covers?? like somebody needs to give them a good throttling)

there's probably more that i don't remember but okay here have this for now :)

[ranbling]

Sending this anonymously bc i don’t wanna get the b/t stans attacking me for saying my observation, but this is in regards to your post about tommy not being enthusiastic about buck

for starters i completely agree w everything you said so this is just my own blurb i wanted to add

this plays into my theory of tommy paralleling abby in s1 who was never looking for anything serious w buck, but saw him as a younger man who could be used as a play-thing meanwhile buck jumps in head first only to learn a lesson about what love actually is along the way after being hurt…. and ik a bunch of people are like “i don’t want buck to get hurt by another relationship” but i genuinely think he needs to be burned a few more times because he obviously still doesn’t realize that his own interests should be celebrated by his partner and not put down— buck hasn’t had something BIG happen to him since the coming out arc and that was a mostly positive arc, aside from the gaslighting from tommy but whatever… it’s time for him to go through another hurdle, not as a side player in someone else’s arc [bobby’s injury/eddie’s breakdown] but as his own arc in which he realizes he is worth more than just being a pretty boy who is only valuable when he’s being kissed. I hope that bobby and eddie’s storylines will show him that in the finale and we can end this whole buck/tommy fiasco before s8, but im scared they will drag it out further into s8 and we will get either retconning from the writers, or we will get the fandom backlashing against tommy being used for his original intended purpose which was to be a PLOT DEVICE…..

we also have seen buck’s interests and excited demeanor subdued and looked down on by taylor often during their relationship. i already have iffy feelings on how the writers handled her character and her relationship arc with buck but aside from the treasure hunt, we never really saw her propping up buck’s interests and often tried to subdue his “golden retriever” personality (something the buckley parents also did)

(this is also interesting bc Taylor Kelly and Tommy Kinard…. T-K and T-K, idk it feels very hmmm to me on top of Tommy kind of repping all of Buck’s past major relationships into s ball)

and i feel like the diaz parents and possibly whatever happens with the will could be that catalyst for him to finally be like “oh… i am worth more thsn just being a side piece” which would hopefully lead to a b/t breakup

bc think about it, who IS the only one (besides bobby/maddie) who is always trying to tell buck he is worth more than just what he is at face value? DING DING DING it’s eddie… and if we get that feelings realization of “oh this is what i need from a relationship and i get that from eddie” we can open the door to buck facing the “im in love with my straight best friend who is going through shit” crisis while eddie could have his own “i am projecting my feelings towards buck onto my dead wife because he is what i want and she is who i thought i was supposed to want”

also for eddie’s side of things, it could also be a sense of realizing that he’s projecting and this further idea of “i’m broken” and then realizing who has been there to help him patch things up in the past as he realizes that everything he has looked for in a partner (mainly someone to be a second parental unit for chris) he already has with buck.

anyway i am so sorry for the long ask i just wanted to put this out there and say that i fully agree w you and share my thoughts that coincide with yours

Hi anon!

I love long asks and I agree with every point you made! Buck is still very obviously stuck in the hamster wheel (but only this time with a guy) and the whole "I don't want him to get hurt" is such a weird thing to say. Like except for Abby, Buck wasn't really upset by his breakups and rn his relationship with Tommy is not deep with a lots of buildup, it's just some dates (one of them failed) and two kiss so not a situation that will cause him a lots of heartache

And Eddie is the one who really matches Buck's energy and not only always hypes him up, but he's just as ready to get into the those situations

The pining arc for them is gonna be soo good, but I really hope they won't make it too long, I think a half season for it is more than enough (but I am an impatient girlie and we had enough slowburn now), I just want them to be domestic

I honestly believe we'll either have bt breakup in the next episode or in the first episode of s8. They did nothing to develop their relationship past e6, but introduced many points that could he grounds for a breakup (all coming back to Tommy's behaviour).

[arriansarchive]

Could you please please please write something about both cedric and harry asking male reader to the yule ball and there's a whole lot of angst? ultimately who ends up with reader is up to you both are amazing picks ;)

(separate) Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter/Male!Reader

THIS PROMPT HURTS ME....

My two favorite boys against each other hurts but I aim to please the public eye

I just realized that in most of my harry potter stories you walk down the hallway in the first scene

Hm interesting!!!!

Okay i might not have done the angst very well and I'm really sorry because you said you wanted a lot of it

Bitchy reader

HEHEHEHE YOUR NOT GONNA SEE WHATS COMING (i don't think anyways)

Written with anti-hero by Taylor swift in the background

Woah surprise surprise I actually got a request done instead of posting mphfpc/symbiote reader crossovers

Summary: Request above

--The Yule Ball is three days away--

The classroom was barren and desolate with no one in it, you thought. It was your seventh year at Hogwarts, and the triwizard tournament's tension was a foot in the intense air of the campus.

Though, that tension had dissipated a little with the oncoming dance. You were thinking frantically about who you would bring since nobody had asked you yet.

Something creaked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You look to the door to find one of your close friends, Cedric Diggory, closing the distance between you both swiftly.

"M/N!" He called with a smile on his face.

You gave him a grin back and stood up to go see him. Seemingly without thinking he pulled you into a tight hug.

This confused you a little due to him not really being the affectionate type with you. He seemed more emotionally close and physically distant even if he wasn't like that with other people.

You and Cedric had been friends for what seemed like forever. Your parents met his parents in Hogwarts a long time ago, and they got it on well.

So from then on you and Cedric were best friends from the beginning. You even shared a crib to play in whenever you were both just babies.

You've also had a long-lived crush on him since second grade basically; you tried to convince it was wrong, but that was eons ago it seemed. It failed miserably, you remember.

That's why you were worried that he was in the tournament. It made you sick to your stomach to think he might die because of some stupid prize he wanted.

"I have a question for you." He said with a blush spreading across his nose and cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow in question, amused at what stupid thing he might say. His questions are notorious for being unthought out most of the time anyways.

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Cedric mumbled and a smile danced on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You thought he had been eyeing Cho Chang this entire time and was going to ask her to the Yule Ball.

"You're not going with Cho?" You asked.

He shook his head solemnly. "No, she turned me down, but you're the next best one, M/N. We've been friends forever."

You were absolutely appalled that he could even think that. You were the next best? That is the definition of 'what someone doesn't know can't hurt them' and what it applies to.

"I'm the next best, Cedric?" The hurt was apparent in your voice.

You pushed past him softly, still not wanting to hurt him, and headed for the door. The sound of his shoes squeaking against the polished floor filled the tense air.

"Wait! M/N!" He called.

With anger bubbling up inside of you, your dorm seemed like a fine place to go. As long as you weren't stopped along the way it would all be fine.

The hallways were bustling with students and teachers alike, some going to classes or others that have free periods. You had a free period after that interaction, so you were eternally grateful.

"M/N!" A voice shouted. "M/N, do you have a second?"

You really wanted to just ignore this person and continue to your self pity and solitude, but what fun would that be? Your tracks stopped as you waited for this mystery person to catch up to you.

To your surprise it was Harry Potter who stood before you now. He had an embarrassed look on his face.

He said something that you definitely weren't expecting so soon after Cedric. "I want you to go to the Ball with me." He muttered quickly, looking at the ground.

Half of you thought it might be a little weird taking the chosen one to a Ball, but the other half wanted to do something to get back at Cedric, and Harry wasn't half bad.

"I don't have a date yet, so why not." You said with a big smile on your face.

--The Yule Ball is now two days away--

You decided to hang out with Harry and his friends today instead of Cedric, but Ron and Hermione had went off somewhere, leaving you and Harry to your lonesome.

You both talked about some random things, schoolwork or teacher gossip mainly. Well, that was until Cedric walked over with an angered look on his face.

"M/N, have you decided yet?" He demanded.

Harry looked at him confused. "What could he have decided on for you? He's going to the dance with me, anyways."

"Oh, M/N didn't tell you? I asked him to the dance the same day you did, and I bet he's using you to get back at me. He's never even shown any interest in being your friend, much less your date."

Harry looked at you with widened eyes. "I thought you said you had wanted to be my friend for a while?"

It's true; you said that. You thought that it would've been an easy lie to get away with since everyone wanted to be the chosen one's friend but apparently not.

Harry took your silence as guilt, and his face turned from puzzled to infuriated. He opened his mouth as to say something but was stuttering.

"You lied about wanting to be my date and my friend, so you could get back at my opponent?" He questioned.

You rubbed at the back of your neck, thinking of what to say. You were at a loss for words at how unprepared you were.

"You know what? I'm done. I don't even want to know your reasoning, M/N." Harry barked and then walked away with his hands balled up into fists.

Cedric looked at you with passive rage in his eyes. "You did this one to yourself."

He walked away shortly after looking you up and down. You stood there in shock of what just happened.

Now you definitely wouldn't be able to find a date since Cedric and Harry were probably going to spread this story like plague around the school.

--The day of the Yule Ball--

Long story short, you didn't even go to the dance since you had no date. You stayed in your dorm locked inside of your room.

Oh well, M/N! You did this to yourself after all.

[dell-amor-te]

Anyway, thinking about Dragon Age (Taylor’s Version) again, what else is new lately…and not to be all #different…but, like…I don’t buy into this theory going around that Lucanis really died and was brought back somehow and now has Fade powers or is connected so some kind of spirit.

I don’t think it’s a bad theory, don’t get me wrong. I just think, based on “The Wigmaker Job,” that it’s more likely that Lucanis staged his death, not that he actually died. And obviously “The Wake” comes after “The Wigmaker Job,” so whatever his weird headache-behind-the-eye Fade thing predates whatever leads to “The Wake.” Whether it’s a more recent change in his life or something he’s always had…who knows?

If a failed contract means death for a Crow…imagine being the favored grandson of the First Talon and trying to refuse your grandmother. Digital page 327 of “The Wigmaker Job” says:

“Death is my calling,” Lucanis stated, matter-of-fact. “Just as yours is to become First Talon.”

He smiled, hoping to ease the tension, but Illario's posture remained taut. “And if Caterina disagrees? If she thinks you're the better man for the job—”

“I don’t want it, Illario,” Lucanis insisted.

“But you wouldn’t refuse.”

“It’s impossible to refuse Caterina,” Lucanis admitted reluctantly. "Only prolong her, until she sees reason.”

He knew it wasn't the answer Illario wanted, but it was the truth. And in their line of work, honesty was hard to come by.

From what little we know about Caterina, I don’t see her being reasoned out of her favor of Lucanis. Especially given that she trained Lucanis so harshly that he hated her for it for a long time. It seems unlikely she’d bend her intent to name him as her heir, even for her other grandson, when it’s a well-known point or gossip among the Crows that their next First Talon, if things go Caterina’s way—and it seems they normally do—will be Lucanis.

So, while spirit companion Lucanis is a cool theory, I think it’s far more likely that Veilguard is going to show us Lucanis as the Mage Killer it already styled him as, and how he got there. We’ve seen that he’s willing to go out of his way to exact vengeance for victims, while being a Crow is just a job to him. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Lucanis faked his death in order to escape Caterina. Or…if that “soft heart” of his put him in a pickle that he turned into an escape route.

Or…maybe Caterina is pushing daisies and somehow Lucanis maneuvered Illario into her place, and Illario made good on his word to give Lucanis free rein.

I won’t pretend to know. But, whatever happened, I don’t think he really died.

And if each companion has a motive for joining the Veilguard and all seven members are all necessary for the success of the group, then Lucanis and his apparent warpath against the Venatori would make a lot of sense in that context.

Which also makes me think that if Lucanis is shown to be guilty of any kind of betrayal, it’s going to be along the lines of a Crow Rook being stunned that he isn’t dead. But that’s a whole different post.

And as for what his weird Fade spidey senses are…maybe there are more instances of that popping up in the world, just like Lace having magic now. Everything is in such a precarious state from the start of Inquisition with the whole Breach issue to now in Veilguard with Solas trying to destroy the Veil, let alone all the other things he has been up to in the nine years in between entries. I would honestly love it if they’re showing the consequences of everything that’s happened in relation to magic in the world manifesting in different ways and in different people.

Anyway…just some of my thoughts so far. I’m not committed to anything right now, of course, and I don’t want to come off as believing I’m right or that I think the spirit companion theory is bad (I don’t), I just wanted to share my own thoughts.

[whoiwanttoday]

I woke up this morning at around 5 AM, which is early but not shocking because I went to bed last night at about 7:30 because I decided I couldn't really take the world anymore yesterday. It's an easy retreat to just go to sleep but it never quite works out like I wanted because I wasted a day and eventually you have to wake up unless you're a Disney Princess. Though I guess they wake up at some point as well and then they are usually expected to marry whatever dude woke them up so it's not the sweet deal it sounds like at first. Anyway, I woke up early and laid there in the dark and got to watch my brain work myself into a pretty terrible mood as I just think about things without doing anything, somehow making everything worse in the process. It's really sort of astounding. This is a long way to talk about Anya Taylor Joy and Furiosa and I read something about how it wasn't that great of a time to her because she was very lonely in the role and I get it I guess. You hear sometimes about how stressful or trying certain parts are for actors and I think a lot of people eye roll it but if you are really doing your job I think it can be impossible not to feel the emotions you are conveying because you have to manifest them for your acting to feel anything but false. So I get the eye rolls but as someone who lives inside my own head and can just absolutely destroy a day by going over and over past conversations from months ago trying to unlock a puzzle that doesn't exist… I get it I guess? I am saying it seems like a thing that could fuck you up. I am sure there are chicken an egg type arguments here about who is drawn to acting and the desire to be front and center in everyone's attention but I am not interested in that today, I am just interested in how our own brains can take nothing and make it either good or bad. I don't have a conclusion I guess other than all that aside, Anya Taylor Joy continues to look great in the onslaught of press coverage she is getting right now so I am posting her. Today I want to fuck Anya Taylor Joy.

[pardonmydelays]

what do you love the most about twenty one pilots?

i fucking love this question, but there's no easy answer to it. i guess i'm gonna have to try tho, because sometimes i feel like maybe some of you don't really understand WHY i totally changed my entire blog when clancy came out (it's kinda like me loving this band was my biggest secret for such a long time, idk. i still remember how a few months before it i've mentioned something and anix literally yelled at me like "WHY THE FUCK YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU LIKE TWENTY ONE PILOTS" lmao. anyway).

first of all, no one has ever made me feel so seen and understood. there's real magic in tyler joseph's lyrics, you might hate me for what i'm about to say right now, but speaking of tortured poets - for me it's not taylor, it's tyler. and the scariest part of it all is that i very often relate to his lyrics. but that's also beautiful - it's therapeutic in a way. so when clancy came out and i realized i relate to pretty much EVERY song on this record, i just thought to myself, oh lord, how did i survive this long without their music. it's always been them for me. i will never abandon them again, i swear.

second thing, the lore. you all know i'm a slut for stories told through music (*cough* musical theatre *cough*). also, if the plot of the story is complex and weird as fuck, there's a pretty big chance it will become my favourite thing in the world. the entire lore is an insane metaphor for mental health struggles so, obviously, i can find a part of myself in it. i would die for their lore, honestly. it's all i can think about. and clancy will always be my fucking blorbo.

another thing i love a lot about them, and it's something you don't really see if you don't watch their interviews or live performances, they are literally just two dudes. both josh and tyler have always been very anxious and awkward and weird and that's what makes them more human in my opinion - just two fucking idiots who are best friends, lmao. they are so relatable in every possible way. they are also the funniest dudes in the entire world. and their friendship is so fucking beautiful. the only difference between us and them, truly, is that they are extremely talented and they have their own band.

also, they care about the clique so fucking much, this was probably mentioned on my blog before (maybe even today in a previous ask). they don't care about the charts, about awards, about anything really, all they care about is their music and fans. they don't do it to be the best band in the world. they do it to save lives - our lives as much as their own (if it wasn't for this music i don't know how i would have fought this). and that's what makes them different and honestly, better than the other artists.

they are also pretty much unproblematic. i wasn't really sure if i should mention that, but i feel like i need to. tyler joseph made one stupid mistake a few years ago - the way people reacted to this still breaks my fucking heart. he realized he was wrong tho, he apologized. the other day i saw a post here on tumblr about how he's fucking problematic and racist and the worst man on the planet etc etc. can we... fucking stop, please. it was just a stupid joke and he knows it was dumb and unnecessary. most people wouldn't even apologize, but he did. end of story. i will defend him with my life (not saying he is perfect, but shit, if you want to cancel him for one mistake maybe you should look at yourself first).

i feel like there are thousand different reasons but i'm just gonna stop here, because it's too fucking long already and no one will read it anyway.