#would've could’ve should’ve hours

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

what do you think Suburban Legends is about?

Oh boy oh man oh gee oh goly I LOVE THIS FUCKING SONG!!!! Buckle up!!!!! This is verrryyy long, part essay, part rant, so I apologize in advance 😘

The story begins with the subject repeatedly betraying the speaker, and her forgiving him for it. The entire song reflects on how and why this becomes a pattern, and the long-term consequences of that first moment.  

“You were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious, flushed with the currency of cool, I was always turning out my empty pockets” is one of my absolute favorite line in Taylor’s entire discography. It draws on the metaphor explored in Tied Together with a Smile and You All Over Me- love (or, candidly, sex/sex appeal) as a currency, specifically, a something cheap- pennies, change. The subject of Suburban Legends is rich, flush with currency- worth a lot compared to the speaker who doesn’t have anything. The sensual imagery in this part (slippery plastic summer, slide, flush, magnetic) makes me think a lot about the ways sex and love can be used in a relationship, and how formative our early relationships can be. Because of the title and imagery in the whole song, I feel strongly that this is “about” teenage relationships, and I think it exists in relation to the Betty/August/Cardigan story (I’ll leave it there…).  That first verse, to me, is a really meaningful exploration of why someone, often girls, might feel pressured to forgive their partner for something that really hurts. The explanation, I think, rests on how you interpret the empty pockets metaphor. The speaker feels so little self worth compared to the subject (who is magnetic, slippery, cool) that she forgives big transgressions quickly, perhaps against her better judgement. 

The chorus is sort of mysterious to me. I understand what “I didn’t come here to make friends” means, but it’s tricky in context. For me, it evokes reality game shows like Survivor or Americas Next Top Model- the person saying the phrase is a contestant fighting for something, and willing to stab people in the back to reach the goal. (Reminds me of willow) I don’t think the song requires us to take that entire symbol literally, so in context, I think it means that whoever is saying it has no intention of being friends, they intend to be ~more than friends~ (romantic or sexual or enemies, or all of the above, idk!!) and they’re willing to play dirty to achieve that. The next line, “we were born to be suburban legends,” is perhaps the goal. Suburban legends makes me think about small time legends; high school football champions who peak in 12th grade, cutest couple in the yearbook, childhood sweethearts who get married and live happily ever after in their suburban hometown. But it also makes me think about the way Taylor immortalizes her subjects. The songs she wrote as a teenager have entered suburban folklore. Everyone knows Love Story and YBWM, even if they think they don’t! Their relationship was fated to occur, and they were born to live the story that has become legendary among suburban, normal youths. If we take the perspective of how this experience has laid a pattern in place, these lines feel relevant to later adult experiences post-fame, too. Taylor Swift is a household name, along with some people she dated. The first lines of the chorus are also pretty darn flirty, which contributes to the ick factor, for me. It’s like a pick up line, or something that is being used as a consolation prize for not committing to a real relationship; we may not be exclusive, but we were born to have this ~arrangement~ and to be suburban legends, therefore everything is fine. Makes me think of Tis The Damn Season. 

“When you hold me it holds me together” goes back to the question of why someone would forgive their ~lover~ for cheating/stepping out or hurting them, and how easy it is to start seeing your worth as tied to the other person’s actions towards you. This line is the only semi-positive thing she has to say about this person in the song. Whatever the arrangement is, for better or worse, it holds her together. “You kiss me in a way that’s gunna screw me up forever” holds soooo much weight, and is a really crystallized way to convey how important those first sexual/romantic experiences can be, and how tied to intimacy they are. That line establishes that this story fundamentally altered the speaker’s life, and started a pattern of behavior that she is grappling with however many years down the road. The element of fate feels really important. Other songs that I think tie in with this are Ms Americana and the Heartbreak Prince, Betty, That’s The Way I Loved You, Mastermind. 

The second verse makes me feel kinda ill!!!! The sensual/intimate imagery continues, but with a lot more anger, disgust, regret, and public humiliation (fantasy, diaries, ripped out, the whole school). This verse again solidly places us in high school, which could be a metaphor but I don’t think it needs to be. Even if we take the language literally, it still can apply to situations throughout the speaker’s adult life because of how impactful the early experience was. Shame, humiliation, regret, embarrassment, wanting to prove a point, feeling tossed around by fate. 

I also am really interested in the tense use of Suburban Legends. I had the fantasy (back then) that you would be (in the hypothetical future) more than a chapter in my old diaries (past reality), with the pages ripped out (ambiguous, when did she rip them out? How long did she hold out hope? What was the last straw?). Whatever happened with these two was so upsetting that the speaker has tried to violently erase the experience from her own most private history. The speaker is experiencing extreme anger in the present about something that happened in the past, which is kind of unusual in Taylor’s discography! Usually her songs explore the moment she feels something, which this also does. I think this is a reason it stayed in the vault: there’s a lot of private shame involved in this story, and also anger that it’s still impacting her all these years later. “I can still see it now” is such a strong statement that roots the speaker in the present but is sensorily placed in the past. The theme of memory is common for Taylor, but that particular phrasing makes me think about All Too Well 10MV, dear john, would’ve could’ve should’ve, and Maroon (I wake with your memory over me that’s a real fucking legacy to leave). 

The next part about “I know that you still remember” and national treasures and getting back together make me think of WANGBT and All Too Well and how the present experiences of older relationships can really force a person to reflect on what led them down that path - what was the twist of fate that caused the tragedy to occur? I’ll leave it there!

The bridge, besides being catchy as fuck, is extremely sassy and sarcastic; “i broke my own heart cuz you were TOO POLITE TO DO IT!!” This line is so interesting and it captures exactly what it’s like to be in the midst of heartbreak over someone that was hurting you - the break up is what is breaking the speaker’s heart, not the asshole’s actions themselves. “Waves crash to the shore, I dash to the door” is giving August. The rest of the bridge is exactly like how a panic attack feels - it spirals out of control and has the repetitive pulse of ruminating thoughts. It’s the moment that the past experiences combine with the present, and everything compounds. The speaker’s life is ruined, it was ruined before, it’s ruined now, the subject has all the control in this situation to ruin her life by abandoning her, but she always knew it! SHE ALWAYS KNEW IT! She knew from the first time someone called him on an unmarked number and she let it slide!!!! It’s the ultimate dramatic tragedy- the hero’s own hubris ruins their own life!!!!!! And thus, the shame cycle is born. 🤮

(to be 100% clear, while I think the song is set up as a tragedy - that is, the hero is responsible for his own downfall - I do NOT believe that Taylor is at ALL responsible for how the subject of this song treated her. She, and anyone reading/listening to this deserve to be treated better!! Healing from wounds like this is so so hard, and a lifelong practice. We heal from relational trauma when we engage in relationships that contradict the initial wounds and allow us unlearn those messages of self-hatred that were reinforced by the initial experience. I love this song because it captures the feelings of shame that are so so so common and important to acknowledge when we first set out to reflect and heal from old shit, and are maybe still engaging in relationships that don’t contradict the past experiences 💜🦋. I think this will be a huuuge theme on TTPD…. 🤍)

[bellawoso]

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

Read part 1 : here

Much to your Diego’s dismay, you did not end up calling Alexia, instead the jersey, adorned with a number that could change your life, was left screwed up at the back of your wardrobe.

You were going to call Alexia.

Until one of your other friends heard about it, and told you about the backlash and hate you would receive from some of Alexia’s devoted fans. In the end, you decided it wasn’t worth it, it was only a few years since you escaped your depressive cycle, you were not ever going to risk entering it again.

Truthfully, you regret ignoring Alexia, every time anyone hits on you, you always compare them to the blonde, Diego often calling you “pathetic” as you only spoke to her for 2 hours.

However, you realised that it’s too late to call her, and think of how weird the blonde would think you were if you called her a month later.

As once again you debated calling the midfielder, your door suddenly slammed open.

“¡Hola chica! Look I have tickets!”

As you inspected the tickets in Diego’s hand, your face contorted to one of disappointment;

England vs Spain tickets.

Fuck.

———————————————————————

Your England top had arrived just in time, you were going to wear a Spain one after Diego convinced you that you would be beaten up by the first Spaniard who saw you, you guess the England-Spain rivalry ran deep.

However, it felt a betrayal to your country to be clad in the red jersey, so you ordered one last minute, luckily you weren’t completely oblivious when it came to football, you knew of how Leah Williamson had captained England to a Euro’s victory.

So there you were, in blue denim shorts and your oversized Williamson Jersey almost reaching past your shorts.

It felt like you were cheating, which was stupid, you met Alexia for 2 hours, to push away the feeling of guilt you slipped on a jacket and made your way downstairs.

Diego only rolled his eyes, and sighed in disapproval at your jersey choice.

———————————————————————

Alexia was excited for her return which she had been informed of a month prior to the match, but everyone on the team had noticed a change in the captains mood.

Except only Jana knew the cause for her sudden sadness.

Alexia didn’t understand why your rejection stung so much, maybe it was because the two-time ballon d’or winner wasn’t used to it, or maybe it was because the whole two hours you were together, she had imagined a relationship with you. It felt too real, and she cursed herself for grieving something that never happened in the first place.

She pushed all of those thoughts to the side, and instead focused on the match ahead of her, it was only a friendly, but the idea of being able to hold the win over Lucy and Keira’s heads when they returned to Barcelona felt euphoric.

What she didn’t expect was to see you in the crowd, worse of all, in a Leah fucking Williamson jersey.

———————————————————————-

Spain were one nil down at half time. which was frustrating for Alexia, having to watch from the sidelines with promises of being brought on for the final 45 minutes, however as she stepped on the pitch, her attention was drawn to a white jersey, in a sea of red, only a few rows up.

You stuck out like a sore thumb, it was extremely hard to miss you. So when Alexia laid eyes on you, her heart stopped for a second, and the screams and cheers of the stadium became muffled sounds in her ears.

As you turn around to face Diego, Alexia can just make out the England captain’s last name on your back, bile rises to the Spaniard’s mouth and she quickly turns away.

A newfound determination to outdo the English Captain, to try prove to you that the only jersey you should be proud to wear should be hers.

Call it jealousy. Maybe. But whatever it was fuelled Alexia to score 2 more goals by the end of the match.

2-1 to Spain.

When you saw Alexia step out on the pitch, your breath immediately hitched in your throat, sending you into a coughing fit, which received a knowing chuckle from Diego.

“You fumbled amiga”

Honestly, you regretted teaching him some English slang, he used it against you constantly, and often laughed at himself after seeing you scowling.

When the match ended, Diego was quick to drag you to the stands, he was a big fan of Aitana Bonmati, and wanted her signature badly.

Although you were happy for him when the brunette midfielder came over to where you two were, you froze at seeing Alexia’s friend from the match, who was walking over with Aitana.

When Jana laid eyes on you, she knew what she had to do, she was quick to sprint off and get Alexia, who was talking to Lucy and Keira, and teasing them of the loss.

Alexia was no where near as nervous as you were, the blonde didn’t need to be, you rejected her, even though she was positive that you were returning her flirty comments at the past match.

The Spaniard was sure that you were in the wrong, you should feel guilty for leading her on, so she was quick to confront you when she saw you.

“You didn’t call, and I’m pretty sure I told you to wear better clothing colours”

You internally cringed at how straight to the point the blonde was, and couldn’t help but blush as she called you out for ignoring her.

“I’m sorry, I was nervous and by the time I felt ready to call, I figured it would be too late”

“I don’t know if I’m more upset about you didn’t call because you were nervous, or the fact that you have Leah Williamson’s name on your back”

“Get me a better one then” you replied, whilst looking down at her jersey and back at her with a grin.

Alexia quickly stripped off her jersey, as you took off yours too, luckily you wore a tank top under it, Alexia’s eyes quickly dropping to your exposed chest.

“Your not subtle you know?”

“Who said I was trying to be?” The blonde was quick to reply back.

You only chuckled in response, and slipped on Alexia’s jersey, doing a little spin “How do I look?”

“Beautiful, much better wearing the jersey you belong in”

You weren’t sure if Alexia truly meant that, or if her extremely forward words were due to English not being her first language, but either way your face flushed deep crimson in retaliation to her comment.

The click of a pen lid being taken off woke you from your trance, and you peered up at Alexia, who tugged you closer by your waist, and quickly scribbled down her number once again.

“Pot favor, call me this time, promise?”

“I promise Ale, I will even let you choose the colour scheme of my outfit when we go out” you quipped back with a smile.

With a smirk, the blonde midfielder threw the England jersey on the floor, and walked away to meet Jana so they could walk into the locker room together.

Diego quickly ran towards you, only to pick you up and swing you around.

“I told you she would want you amiga! Your a snack!”

“Diego please never call me that again”

“Shut up! You should be thanking me, with out me, she would have never re-given you her number”

———————————————————————

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬

Synopsis: Receiving wind that Hydra has successfully managed to awaken another wave of winter soldiers, Captain America appoints his two best avengers, Bucky Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N, for the job. But aside from Bucky’s trepidation at reliving his worst memories, there’s something else rooting him in his place–the fear of inflicting harm on the woman he loves the most. Between her encouraging words and his violent past, what will happen when Y/N is forced to encounter her boyfriend’s alter ego?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Angst | Fluff

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬  Masterlist | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

“𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, whose brilliant idea was it to hitch a ride to Antarctica at four in the morning?” Sam groaned, shooting Steve a tired side-eye. The glare would've carried more weight if Sam's eyelashes weren't so heavy he looked on the verge of collapsing into sleep right then and there.

“It’s a twenty-hour flight,” Steve stated matter-of-factly, ignoring Sam’s blatant groans. 

Everyone was almost in the Quinjet, with Bruce and Clint slumped in a bunk each. By the sound of their rhythmic snores, the early mission hadn’t disturbed their sleeping schedules, and the Big Guy was too exhausted to comment about his new surroundings. Natasha was in there, too, plugging in the mission's coordinates. Needless to say, besides her and the two supersoldiers standing in the hangar, everyone else looked more than eager to go back to dreamland.

Y/N eyed Sam as he hugged his pillow tightly, using the walls to steady himself. Sam, who was this ball of infinite energy, was dozing off at the speed of light. And though he was used to waking up early and heading off for his morning lapses with Steve, the poor guy was stuck in a debrief with Nick Fury late last night and had barely managed to get some shut-eye. 

“I think what Sam means is why endure a twenty-hour hassle to get to Queen Maud Land when we could’ve figured out a faster means of transportation,” Y/N interjected.

Steve raised a skeptical brow. “Like what?”

“Portalling,” she shrugged, catching Sam’s attention. “What’s the point of having friends like Dr. Strange if we don’t ask for help when we need it?”

"Because, for one, Strange is not a friend," Tony asserted, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance. He looked pristine and smelled fresh, his gym bag slung casually over his shoulders. Figures the insomniac would be the least bit aggravated at the prospect of deploying to Antarctica before even the worms were up. "And second, what makes you think he’d help us?"

“Maybe because he’s also an Avenger.”

Tony gasped aloud, his hand shooting up to cover his arc reactor. His melodrama got even Steve to roll his eyes. “Firstly, take that back. There are only six Avengers and a handful of enhanced sidekicks.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky chimed from next to Y/N. 

“Seven Avengers,” Tony corrected, shooting Y/N a glance. Not even Bucky’s death glare or Sam’s scuff halted his monologue. “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. What’s bigger than Strange’s bibbidi-bobbidi arsenal is his ego—”

Natasha interceded, “Says the man who had his name plastered on a building.”

“I heard that, Jessica Rabbit.”

“As you should’ve. I’m sure,” Steve piped in. 

Tony’s lips twitched in their signature way. He pushed Steve aside and entered the Quinjet, throwing his bag on one of the biggest bunks available. For a man who’s not keen on sleeping, or being accused of egotism, his behavior is quite contradictory. 

“The point is, Stephen Strange’s medical license may scream, ‘I help people for a living,’ but doctors talk a big game until the hospital bill arrives.” He paused, turning his attention back to Sam and Y/N. “That’s when you realize their benevolence comes with a hefty price tag.”

"One that I'm sure you can afford because you're a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, as you oh-so-casually like to remind us all."

"Okay, weren't you sleeping?" Tony pointed an accusatory finger at Clint, who had rolled over and sassed him. Clint refrained from answering, his light snores filling the now silent area.

Sam took this as his cue to build on the previous point. "I’m with Clint on this one. Why don't you score three out of four on the Stark Personality Index and give Strange a call?"

"Why don't you channel your inner sorcerer and magically zip it? Because the less we debate, the quicker we might actually get something done," Tony rebutted. He waved his hands around, signaling for everyone to board the jet. Sam and Steve went further inside, both commenting on Tony's antics. Y/N and Bucky were the only ones who lingered in the back.

“James,” Y/N whispered, catching Bucky’s attention. His electric blue eyes held her gaze. He expected her to ask him about his well-being or point out his lack of commentary. But, to his surprise, Y/N gently took his metal hand and squeezed it. “It’s going to be just fine.”

Bucky laced their fingers together, bringing their interlocked hands to his lip and planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. Sometimes, he could’ve sworn Shuri had augmented the sensory feedback in his prosthetic. But when Y/N’s eyes twinkled as they did now, and a wave of undiluted love inundated his heart, he knew it had less to do with technology and more to do with her. 

“Stick by my side,” he reminded her firmly. 

Y/N’s lips twitched, the corners rising to form a smirk. “Till the end of all lines.”

Bucky broke into a chuckle, briefly shaking his head. He pulled on her hand, making her fall into step together. Though the nagging feeling in the back of his mind hadn’t dissipated, he gladly ignored it as he led Y/N to one of the bunk beds. She needed all the sleep she could get, and he needed the reminder that she was very much real and very much close. 

“Avengers Assemble.”

Y/N bet Tony’s entire fortune (obviously, because he was the billionaire, not her) that Steve, along with everybody else, expected anything—literally, anything—except for Bruce to burst out laughing at this exact moment. It wasn’t even a shortle or an innocent giggle. He was doubled over, gasping for breath, one hand gripping his stomach while the other clung to a chair for support.

It was only when the entire group turned to face him that his laughter began to gradually cease. “You said Ass,” Bruce clarified sheepishly, his weariness rising now that all eyes were on him. “You know, because you’re America’s ass, and you could’ve literally said anything else, but you chose that word. Right, Tony?”

“Right,” Tony replied wryly. 

It was evident that Bruce was growing increasingly uneasy. The team had reached Queen Maud Land, Antarctica, with only five minutes to spare before landing. FRIDAY was working to determine the safest landing spot, considering it was well past midnight and the relentless snowstorm showed no signs of abating.

A tingling sensation emanated from Bruce, creeping into Y/N's consciousness. Quickly, she skipped to his side, stretching out her hand. With a gentle smile and inviting eyes, she wordlessly sought Bruce's approval to make contact. As he extended his hands, Y/N eagerly accepted it. A radiant silver encircled her irises, the hue spreading through them. Likewise, her veins adopted a pale white, the color effortlessly transferring from her to Bruce. In a matter of seconds, she sensed his shoulders ease, a soothing wave of calmness enveloping him.

“Thank you,” Bruce said softly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N replied as her eyes reverted to their original color. 

She swiftly made her way to Bucky, watching as Bruce stood taller, giving Steve his undivided attention. 

"Now that we've all... assembled, for lack of a better term," Y/N giggled at Steve's joke, earning a lopsided grin. "At face value, this Hydra facility appears to be a scientific research ground. However, we know from SHIELD intelligence that it's not—particularly the East Building. It's safe to assume that both the Observatory and the Experimentation Lab may not include the soldiers we're looking for, but that doesn't exclude any relevant intel we could possibly gather.

"Sam, we'll need you to conduct a quick aerial scan. Deploy Red Wing to ensure the main entrance points are accessible and check for heat signatures to quantify the number of Hydra operatives inside. Nat and Bruce, you'll be in the Observatory. It's the smallest of the three buildings, with only one floor to cover. Sam, once you're done with your report, land in the Experimentation Lab and wait for Clint and me. Tony, you're with Bucky and Y/N in the East Building. Any questions?"

“For the record, that itself was a trick question,” Natasha noted as she double-checked her hidden weapons. The latest NSFW suits (abbreviated for “Nano Secure Field Wear,” though Tony insisted on using the acronym) made it impossible to discern the locations of her weapons. “None of you better ask a single thing because even this Russian ass is freezing and is ready to kick some butt to get warmed up a little bit.”

“Hey, I’m not one to argue when asses are involved,” Tony commented. “Let’s go, Wilson. Time is money.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, lowering his night vision glasses. “Says the billionaire,” he huffed, wings at the ready.

“I heard that, Iago”

“As you should’ve. I’m sure,” Natasha sassed. Safe to say, Tony didn’t mirror everyone’s laughter.

“So, Lynx. On a scale of Africa to Antarctica, how are you two snowglobes enjoying this weather?” Tony quipped. 

He was supposed to fly to the East Building, but the storm was unrelenting. Steve had asked Sam and Tony to limit their aerial assessments, not wanting to risk damage to their gear. Unfortunately, that meant Tony had to walk to the building alongside Bucky and Y/N. While this wouldn’t normally be a problem, the loud groans coming from the side painted a clear picture of Bucky’s sullen behavior. And God knew how much Tony and Bucky just loved to push each other’s buttons. 

“Just because my moniker happens to be ‘Lynx’ doesn’t mean I am one, Tony,” Y/N shot back. Her eyes glinted with a hint of mischief as she gazed at him. “If we all carried the same traits as our pseudonyms, then you’d be as heavy as your ego.”

Bucky elected to laugh at this one, watching with glee as Tony made a face. Even with his suit hiding his features, it wasn’t hard to picture his reaction. “You should know better than to try and sass her.”

Tony shrugged, picking up his pace and walking just a bit ahead of the two. “Teasing your girl is my favorite pastime, Barnes. She’s a ray of sunshine when she wants to be. Too bad she’s stuck in the wrong season.”

“He can’t keep his mouth shut for thirty seconds, can he?”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “I’m afraid that might cause him an aneurysm, baby.”

The storm was fierce, with the wind battering them from various directions. For the most part, the trio easily navigated the road. Tony was leading them, using his altered nano blasters to inconspicuously clear the path when the snow was too thick. 

And yet, while the enhanced suits blocked out the cold, they didn't imbue any of those who wore them with warmth, maintaining the body temperature at a neutral level. So, when Bucky unexpectedly felt a fiery rush glistening across his gloved hand, he immediately looked down and broke into a dulcet smile at the sight of Y/N's smaller hand in his.

“You seem lighter,” she commented.

Bucky kept his eyes on his surroundings as he responded, “Is this an attempt at praising Stark’s new suits?”

“No, silly,” she chuckled. Of course, she’d find ways to lighten his mood in these frosty conditions. “I was talking about you, not your clothes.”

“Using your abilities on me, Lynx?”

“You’d know if I was.” 

It’s true, he would. Not that she had ever used them on him, anyway. It was only when he grappled with his nightmares that she did, and that was only when she had earned his explicit permission to do so. 

“I’m convinced that even without your enhanced abilities, you would still be the only person able to influence my emotions.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What do you mean by that?” She almost missed a step when Bucky briefly chanced a glance at her. His electric blue eyes were darker, given the lack of light, but there was something else there—an emotion she had trouble deciphering. "That’s not exclusive to me. I’m not the only person who influences your mood."

Bucky smirked, his thumb drawing circles along Y/N’s gloved hand. “You are the only one that counts.”

“Do you say that to every woman you come across, Sergeant?”

“Only the ones I’d like to keep around, angel.”

Y/N playfully jabbed him in the ribs, and to his surprise, he felt it even through the layers he was wearing. Taking the light-hearted punch in stride, Bucky mock-pretended to be hurt.

“I don’t know if Tony has rubbed off on you or if it’s the other way around," Y/N lamented, her pout visible, even cuter with the cold air escaping her mouth.

“Don’t involve me in your lover’s squabble.” Speak of the devil.

Bucky had to roll his eyes at the unwanted intervention. “Overly narcissistic of you to assume you are part of the conversation, Stark.”

“Overly irresponsible to shamelessly flirt with your girlfriend before shutting off the open communication channel of your earpiece, Barnes. Judging by the flush of your cheeks, it seems that even this playboy can influence your emotions.”

It took too long for Tony to register the snowball Bucky had gathered and chucked at his face, even longer to notice Y/N’s outstretched leg before he fell face first in the snow—because the communication channel was certainly not open. Tony, as always, was just being a nosy little worm.

"Observatory sweep complete. Six targets eliminated. Uploading the recon data," Natasha informed, the audible huff in her voice coinciding with a forceful kick against a Hydra operative.

“Copy that,” Steve acknowledged. There was silence on the line, one that mirrored the noiselessness that greeted Y/N, Bucky, and Tony as soon as they entered the East Building. The three exchanged discreet glances, brandishing their weapons as they ventured deeper into the vicinity. “We’ve yet to face any resistance in the Lab. Clint found a hidden passageway on the far right, though. We’re making our way in now. Bucky, do you reckon we’ll find the soldiers there?” 

“Unlikely,” Bucky answered promptly. “All prisoners are kept at sub-level units under strict observation. Unless the passageway leads you to a lower floor, you’ll most likely encounter more agents.” 

“Speaking of agents. Any on your end so far?” 

“None.” 

“Well, looks like our luck ran out. Be careful.” 

The corners of Bucky’s lips twitched as a grin began to spread on his face. “When am I not?”

With Steve’s grunts receding and the conversation dying down, Bucky and Y/N left Stark to scour the upper floor while they inspected the sub-levels. Though there was an enormous likelihood that the soldiers were situated somewhere in this area, the lack of supervision made them question whether this entire mission was either a trap or a distraction. 

Bucky turned to Y/N as soon as he descended the staircase. He seemed disconcerted at the thought, while Y/N was unfazed. “They have an unknown number of active supersoldiers,” she said, graciously blending in with the shadows at the same time Bucky stuck closer to the walls. “Why would they need to have any guards surveying an area they've labeled as ‘barren’ for a reason?” 

“You have a point,” Bucky acknowledged. He scanned his surroundings, locating an intersection a few steps across. “Can you feel if the soldiers are anywhere close?” 

Y/N’s brows knit together in concentration. She huffed, the sound unregistered by her own ears. Bucky noticed it, though. Just like he registered her pout.

“I can’t detect any active emotions.”

“Maybe they've put them in cryo.” Bucky pondered aloud. 

Y/N hummed, “Your theory stands as the most logical.” She craned her neck, attention drawn to the left path ahead. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized it. “While this entire level is brimming with a negative aura, this side seems to be the nucleus. The energy is passive at this point, but there’s a lot of emotional turbulence emanating from there.”

With a swift swipe of his hand, Bucky uncovered the gun he had hidden in his suit. He extended his right arm, quickly drawing it to the side, in front of Y/N's body, as he followed the emotional trail she had picked up. 

Y/N stepped behind him. Her presence almost always went unnoticed, courtesy of her agility and capacity to blend in with her surroundings. On various missions with the Avengers, particularly with Steve and Natasha, she had been told numerous times that her sudden appearances had caught them off guard.

Knowing the same applied to Bucky, Y/N intentionally placed a heavier weight in her footsteps—not enough to alert the enemy to her presence inside the base, but enough to assure Bucky's ears that she was still behind him.

A faint static sensation tingled in Y/N and Bucky’s ears before Tony’s voice filtered in, "I won't claim it's a competition, but if it were, I'd say I've gathered the best intel in this super squad."

"Share it with us so we can award you for it, Stark," Bucky replied sarcastically.

“Six soldiers,” Tony's tone carried a certain smugness as he relayed the information. “Kept in cryostasis. They’re still being heavily monitored and undergoing extreme medical and physical examinations. Expected to be deployed into the field…”

“Watch out!” Bucky hissed, cutting Tony’s speech off. 

As soon as he and Y/N had stepped into a deeper part of the facility, laser beams deployed from all around them, entrapping them. 

“What’s going on?” It was Bruce who had asked, but Bucky and Y/N were too busy ducking out of the way of the lasers to answer. “Bucky? Y/N?”

Y/N surveyed her surroundings, attempting to pinpoint the source of the laser blasts. Unfortunately, the beams emerged from the walls, rendering it challenging to counteract them with bullets. Bucky rolled on the ground, the edge of his suit singed by the laser’s touch. He groaned, his eyes hastily searching for Y/N, who had pressed against one of the walls.

The only exit lay a few meters away, but there was no certainty about where that path would lead or if they could bypass the abundance of lasers to reach it. Y/N patiently waited until one of the beams prepared to shoot, analyzing its trajectory. In the split second it readied to fire, she lunged, curling her body into a ball mid-air before landing on the balls of her feet.

She repeated the process several times, closely monitoring Bucky as he fired a series of shots to dismantle the laser mechanisms. Whether it was a momentary distraction in her brain or a miscalculation on her part, an angry red beam struck her. Y/N took a deep breath, summoning all her energy to shift into her incorporeal form. To her utter disbelief, the lasers surrounding her diminished.

“James!” she shouted, earning a worried look from the super soldier. He immediately jumped to his feet and rushed to her. A forlorn shadow crossed his face when a laser beam severed his attempt. “I think these lasers are triggered by our movements.”

“So what are we supposed to do, Y/N? Stay still?” Bucky said the last part with a sneer, tired from the disadvantage.

He was surprised to see the corners of Y/N’s lips edging upward before the translucent edges around her form completely engulfed her whole. “Don’t be scared,” she had asked of him before she disappeared—the laser beams mirroring her motions.

He supposed that she was making her way toward him, if the receding beams were any indication. He felt a slight pressure on his arm before his body felt lighter as gentle silver strokes tingled across his body. When Y/N turned them both invisible, they moved together toward the end of the small hallway.

“Laser beams,” Bucky breathed out into his earpiece. He kept a firm hand on Y/N's waist as she dropped the veil that shrouded their movements. “We’re fine. Y/N got us out. Stark, what were you saying?”

“I said that the soldiers were scheduled for deployment on their first mission this month, but the specific date was not disclosed. It looks like Hydra hasn't centralized information regarding this project.”

“The information is scattered,” Bruce added. “On the servers here, Nat and I found a list of potential candidates for the 'Winter Program,' as they've named it. Clint is attempting to extract intel from the Experimentation Lab's servers.”

“How many soldiers did you mention?” Y/N asked.

Her gaze fixed on the sliding door ahead of her. Bucky followed her line of sight, peering at the seemingly deserted area. Cautiously, the two of them entered, guns drawn and ears sharp, attentive to any movement. The expansive space was filled with cryo pods, and the two rushed to inspect them.

“Six,” Tony replied.

Y/N shook her head, though only Bucky could witness the gesture. She raised her hand to her earpiece, speaking directly into the open channel, “There are seven pods. All of them are empty.”

A tense silence gripped them, not even a sigh audible through their earpieces. Bucky and Y/N instinctively positioned themselves back to back, keeping a vigilant watch for any potential threats.

Suddenly, a grunt echoed, followed by a loud crash. Without hesitation, Bucky pulled on Y/N's wrist, shielding her with his body. It wasn't until Steve's voice came through their earpieces that they realized the commotion wasn't originating from their location.

Steve sighed, "We've got a problem."

"Aside from the 'seek six, and get an extra super soldier killing machine for free'?" mocked Tony.

"Three of these Hydra operatives that ambushed us are the super soldiers," Steve explained.

Tony groaned, and the sounds of his blasters kicking off resonated in everyone's ears. It looked like he’s got company, too. "Well, that's just perfect. Not only is Hydra onto us, but winter is coming as an unwelcome bonus."

"You couldn't help it, could you?" asked Y/N.

A blast went off a second before Tony answered with a simple "No."

It appeared that Hydra had stationed their soldiers in every building. Three were already locked in a duel with Steve and the others—two now, since apparently, Clint caught one off guard with a tranquilizing arrow. Bruce and Nat were fighting two, and Tony was trapped upstairs with one.

Y/N left Bucky's side faster than he could hold her back. She heard him curse as she inspected the names on the pods. She didn't know what she was looking for, but something told her the answer would be etched on the pods. With six super soldiers combating her friends, the question remained: who was the seventh, and where were they?

The pods all bore identical markings on their plaques, each displaying a serial number designating a soldier. Y/N moved methodically down the line, disregarding Bucky's protests. As she reached the last pod on the far left, she tuned out Bucky's objections. Suddenly, she froze in a way that even Tony's cold-resistance suits hadn’t thought possible.

"James," her voice quivered as she called, the blood in her veins turning to ice. "It's a trap."

Barely having time to convey the name she saw on the seventh plaque—the moniker that Hydra had assigned him—she heard the click of a gun.

Bucky watched with horror-stricken eyes as the bullet shot at Y/N faster than he could intercept it… faster than she could dodge it.

I am so excited for the next part!! Are you ready for the winter soldier to come out and play? 🫣 Share your theories on what you think is coming next!

All-Works Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 3 - VIOLENCE - here!!

[meazalykov]

redirection; prologue

esmee brugts x barcaplayer!R

a girl realizing that a huge rejection lead her to the best redirection possible

Most of the 2022-2023 season, I’ve been working hard within the tryout camps to get a spot on the United States Women’s national team roster for the World Cup. I played for the Washington Spirit in the NWSL as a Striker.

Most people in my circle believed that I would’ve had a spot on the World Cup roster due to my overachieving skills. I had high hopes about accomplishing my biggest dream. However, when I got the facetime call from the USWNT coach, letting me know that I wouldn’t be on the World cup roster, that belief was crushed. 

My emotions were all over the place when the facetime call ended. The tears in my eyes ran down my dimpled cheeks for hours. My breathing was rigid and I couldn't think straight. It got to a point where my bestfriend, Trinity Rodman, comforted me on a facetime call. She made it on the roster and my happiness for her was distracted by the disappointment for myself.

“I feel like my skills, hard work, and motivation goes unnoticed.” I cried on the facetime call to Trinity. I pulled the black sleeves of my Adidas hoodie up and wiped my tears. To be honest, I felt like clicking the red “end call” button and falling asleep. I didn’t want Trin’s happiness for herself to drain away due to my rejection from the World Cup. 

“There’s so many people in the world that recognize your talents, y/n. Everyone is disappointed too. Just know that your time will come and you can use this as a bigger push for the 2024 olympic roster.” Trinity commented. She was right, but the disappointment and rejection was too big to have optimistic thoughts currently. 

After the facetime call ended, my imessage notifications were blown up with most of my Washington Spirit teammates, family, and non-soccer playing friends apologizing to me when they didn’t see my name on the roster that was posted. They gave me reminders of how good of a player I still am. Many of my USWNT teammates, including my close friends Sophia Smith and Emily Fox, expressed how disappointed they were because I wouldn’t play in Australia with them. 

Currently, I have seven caps with the USWNT. As a nineteen year old, this is a normal amount of appearances. So I had developed relationships with some players who consistently appear on the team. 

Alex Morgan is an example. She is my inspiration as an American striker myself. I’ve seen many people compare us and how we play. I scrolled on the 433womenfc instagram comments on the USWNT roster post and a particular comment stuck out to me, 

“Washington Spirit’s y/n l/n should’ve had a spot over Alyssa Thompson. She could’ve been a good sub for Alex Morgan since they’re both strikers and she has more international experience. USWNT missed out.” 

The tears in my eyes poured down my face again but instead of calling a friend or family member to talk to, I placed my phone on the charger and went to sleep. 

Three months later: 

The USWNT was eliminated from the World Cup after a penalty shootout with Sweden in the Round of 16. This broke my heart when I watched the match in my apartment last week. The USWNT won the 2015 and 2019 World Cup and a three-peat would've broken records. 

Currently, I sat in the backseat of a fancy black van as I headed to a fancy restaurant in downtown DC. My agent wanted to talk to me about my next career move, since my contract with Washington Spirit expired right before the world cup. 

I am assuming that my next move will be within the NWSL, many clubs contacted my agent during past transfer windows for a possible move. However, Spirit rejected those transfers since they saw me as an important striker. Trinity wanted me to stay at Washington Spirit and sign a new contract. I didn’t because I felt lost. I knew my heart belonged somewhere else. I loved the club I've been with since I was sixteen, but I needed to move on. 

The dark green pants and black long sleeve on my body was comfortable for the early-august weather. You’d expect the weather to be hot but it’s 8pm and the breezy air made for a perfect temperature. 

I sat down in a booth across from my agent, Heather. She held a blue ipad in her hands and already ordered water for us, which I took a sip of after we greeted each other. This meeting would determine my next career move.

Two hours later, I walked out of the restaurant in excitement and shock. Heather let me know that many clubs in many leagues contacted her as they needed a goal scoring striker. 

WSL clubs, such as Chelsea and Manchester United, were the first to contact my agent. In fact, they’ve wanted me since the last transfer window. I wasn't opposed to Chelsea, since a few of my American friends played there. NSWL clubs such as San Diego Wave, Houston Dash, and Portland Thorns wanted to offer me a contract too. 

When my agent mentioned the last club that offered me a contract, my jaw dropped to my feet. Liga F club FC Barcelona needed a striker and their coach was impressed by my goal scoring abilities from last season. Barcelona was my dream club and Heather saw my eyes light up in admiration and disbelief. 

As the dinner ended, I told Heather that I'm looking forward to joining Barcelona. She told me that she will let Joan Laporta and the sporting director know about my commitment. I wanted to cry in joy, I am moving to Spain soon to join my dream club! 

(pretend you’re trinity rodman) 

433womensfc

Liked by salmaparalluelo, and 21,613 others

tagged: @y/n.l/n

OFFICIAL: 🚨 19-year old American Striker y/n l/n from Washington Spirit signs a 3-year contract with FC Barcelona on a free transfer. She will be the first American to sign for the Liga F club 🇺🇸🔵🔴 

comments

y/nstrikes_ barca fans she will not disappoint! 💙❤️

esmeebrugts 🔥🔥

wosofan23 aitana bonmati and y/n l/n link on the pitch should be illegal 😭

        leahwilliamsfan67 i agree 

lekkerbrugts esmee ona and y/n joining barcelona?? barcelona is unstoppable. 

cghlover55 this is so crazy 😍🔥

randomuser4789 she was too good for the nwsl, can’t wait to see her compete in europe.  ❤️

   16 replies 

(pretend you're ona batlle)

fcbfemeni and y/n.l/n

liked by esmeebrugts and 93,973 others

our american star has arrived 😍💙❤️🌟

comments

aitanabonmati ❤️

ingrid_engen 😍😍

graham95 niceee🤩

y/nhive THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY

felixfan14 SAME 😍

trinity_rodman SO HAPPY FOR YOU *nickname* 😭💗🎉

lindseyhoran10 woohoo!!!

uswnt 😍

alexiaputellas 🥰

*esmeebrugts started following y/n.l/n*

next chapter: redirection I

a/n: this is my first woso fic! this is the first chapter to this series and I'll write more for other players as well :D I hope you enjoy!

[bloodmoonmuses]

should've, could've, would've. | bang chan

genre: bang chan x reader with some good ol' angst! warnings: none!

I really could’ve picked a better time to have this conversation, you think as you saunter up to the familiar door. 

Despite your intrusive thoughts, you knock four times and, almost as if he were expecting it, Chan opens the door promptly.

“Hey. You’re drenched.” You yank at the hem of your rain soaked sweater and recoil from the feeling of it clinging to your body.

“Didn’t check the weather.” A pause. “Also… I couldn’t sleep,” You add sheepishly. The epithet ends up sounding like more of an excuse than anything, but it’s true. You couldn’t stand staring at the ceiling, thinking of what you were going to say to him, for another minute. It was driving you crazy.

Chan looks down at his apple watch. It’s 2:09am.

“Evidently, I couldn’t either,” he says, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes. 

“Well, I don’t wanna bother you so-”

“Oh, shut up. Get in here.” He gently grasps your elbow and guides you inside his apartment. It’s dark, save for the illumination from the two candles he has lit. You inhale. Bergamot. That’s new.

Chan quickly scans your face and you know he can tell you’ve been crying. He can always tell. You divert your gaze and, thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. But he knows. And the fact that he does gets more and more embarrassing each time it happens.

You’re finally made aware of how cold you actually are when you shiver in response to the body heat radiating off Chan.

“Shit,” he says. “Lemme get you some clothes.” Quick on the uptake, and so in tune with all things you. Sometimes it was exhausting. When he withdraws to his room, you take a seat on the navy blue couch you’re all too familiar with. 

Maybe I should’ve just gone home. What am I gonna do when I move?

Chan returns with a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. You thank him and go to the bathroom to change. When you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror, you almost gasp. It’s fine, you think. Chan is my friend. This is what friends are for.

Chan was the one who recommended taking walks to soothe your insomnia all those years ago, and here you are- still heeding his advice. What he couldn’t predict, however, was that every time you went on said walk, you’d end up in his arms. The first few times were a fluke- awkward, clunky. His embrace caused more anxiety than comfort, and you were under the impression that it wouldn’t continue. But as the years went by, it became routine.

There wasn’t an instant click, not even when your friendship began. Everything was gradual, slow, deliberate. That was what defined your relationship. So when your feelings began to morph into something more than friendship, you weren’t surprised. Because that meant there was only a matter of time before those feelings became bigger than a fleeting spark, or a hand held for hours at a time, or dreams told over gin and white wine. 

Now, as you donned his clothes, smelling of detergent and something so distinctly Chan, you were anxious. Anxious to tell him you were leaving, anxious that even the slightest objection from him would make you stay, and anxious that he had that much power over you- even in your head. 

But it was your dream. And you couldn’t wait around for your feelings to bubble to the surface. You had to squash them down while you still had the chance. This seemed to be your only chance, unfortunately.

“Wanna talk about it?” Chan asks with soft eyes, extending a mug of tea in your direction. You silently thank him for it with a nod, and go to sit on his couch. He joins you.

“I’m sorry for doing this so often. It must get annoying.”

“You’re not annoying. I’ll say it every time if I have to.” He takes a sip of his own tea, and looks at you blankly. You wish you could read his mind, like he can yours. 

“Movie?” He continues, eyes boring into the side of your head. You fight the urge to return his gaze, but ultimately fail. Huge mistake.

Now you wish he'd stop looking at you like that- like this. Like he loves you. Like he’d do anything for you…

“Disney always cheers you up, yeah?” 

He picks up the remote and turns on the TV, trying to ease you into some type of comfort. Usually, by now, you’d be divulging every problem to him. The air is suffocatingly thick. 

I just wanna talk. Why can’t I say that? Chan, I wanna talk. See? It’s not that hard, you think.

 “Princess and the Frog,” he says with a smile. “That’s your favorite.” 

“I’m moving back to America.” Your mouth is moving before your heart has time to catch up. “It’s my dream job.” 

His eyes meet yours, painfully, as he registers the words that have come out of your mouth. It’s funny, really, with the opening credits of Princess and the Frog revving up in the background… Chan realizes this too, and slowly, he turns off the TV. When he puts the remote back down, his mouth is slightly agape.

“Oh. When do you leave?” 

‘Oh?’ That’s it? you think. Your heart is breaking. His tone is so… casual. Almost flippant. Anger flares in your chest for a second and then-

“Uh… in, like, two weeks,” you respond.

“Oh,” he says again.

And with your voice barely above a whisper, you say, “I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah.” He looks down at his feet, shifting uncomfortably.

Now you wanna look away? Look at me. Say something. Anything. Please.

“Well, okay. I’ll see you around.” You get up to leave before the tears start flowing, but your vision is already blurred. “Thanks for the clothes,” You manage to mutter. 

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

When you reach the doorknob, Chan stops you.

“Hey. Let me drive you home.” He can’t even look at you, not really. Even now, his eyes are cast towards the hand that delicately clasps your elbow. Nothing forceful, just enough to keep your attention. “It’s raining really hard,” he continues.

“I don’t think I could handle that.” You say, voice breaking entirely.

“Can I give you my umbrella then?” He pleads. 

“Uh, sure,” you say meekly. Chan retreats to his room and returns with a black umbrella. 

“Here.” 

You’re fully crying now, desperate for air, unable to take a full breath. 

“Thank you. For everything.” You say between gasps. You reach to take the umbrella, but are interrupted by Chan pulling you into a hug instead.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he says, the end of his sentence catching in his throat. He holds you tighter than he ever has before. “I’m so proud of you.”  He leans back a bit to look at you, and wipes the tears off of your face with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re gonna be amazing.”

Maybe it’s his messy, curly hair- or the pinkish tinge to his beautiful nose, or the overwhelming feeling of him touching your face- it’s too much. Too much to keep those simmering emotions at bay. And you want to touch him, transfer the heat from your body to his, let him know how much he means to you in ways that words just can't- and it’s painful. He’s still cradling your face in his hands. You silently beg him to let go- let you go.

“I love you.” That’s not enough. “I love you so much.” The confession escapes you in a squeak, broken sobs ripping through your chest.

“I love you too. Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay.” Another hug. This one is impossibly tight, like you could disappear at any moment and Chan is the only thing tethering you to the earth. 

“No, you don’t get it. I love you more than anything Chan.” Then you kiss him, because the words don’t hold enough weight. You need him to understand- to feel your desperation and unspoken devotion.

It’s a gentle peck at first, so soft it could’ve been imagined. It’s timid and cautious, but it’s real. The fire it ignites in you only makes you want more. You don’t even look to see Chan’s reaction before you crash into his lips again, then again, and again- deepening the kiss and letting yourself indulge in the sensation. Toothy, clamoring, and unorganized. Feverish fervor that leaves your fingertips buzzing. 

When you finally come up for air, meeting Chan’s watery eyes, your heart breaks all over again. How much time have you wasted? How many memories had you opted out of in fear? Fear of rejection? Fear of losing your best friend? Fear of being undeserving of a love so all consuming and white-hot? It’s soul crushing. 

Chan speaks, voice slightly hoarse. “Two weeks?” It’s a question.

“Yeah. I leave in two weeks,” you say. Chan nods to himself, places the umbrella he’s been holding against the wall, and takes your hands in his.

“Any stretch of time spent loving you is time well-spent. No apologies. No “what-ifs”. No regrets. If this is how I come to love you-”

“But I should’ve-” you start.

“It’s worth it.”

He tucks you into bed that night, the rain and his warm embrace lulling you to sleep, and for a bit- in that space of limbo right before your body succumbs to slumber- you agree with Chan. 

If this is how the chips fell, it was worth it. The years of confessions held at the tip of your tongue, the myriad of stolen glances, your quiet love- It was all worth it. 

You don’t know what awaits you in the morning. All you know is that you love Chan and he loves you. For now, that’s enough. 

[bysaber]

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve

Pairing: Dabi x f!Reader

Summary: You remember moments of your relationship with Dabi, regretting it all. Inspired by the song with the same name by Taylor Swift.

Content: angst, toxic relationship, mature content, light smut (brief oral f!receiving) mentions of marking/burning, alcohol, we don’t see Dabi’s side of the story but it is implied he took advantage of reader’s kindness

WC: 1.3k

A/N: I actually had thought about writing this one since I first listened to the song last year but for some reason I never did. Now I wrote it all in… two hours? while listening to it on repeat. I’m super anxious to post this one !! and no beta’d, we die like men.

Licking your lips, you felt the salty taste of your tears mixed with the sweet wine you were now drinking. His large t-shirt engulfed your body as you sat on the floor with nothing but a bottle and a cigarette.

“Who am I?”, a whisper escaped from your lips, blurry eyes scanning your room.

The worst thing about being left behind was having to face the remains of those who left you.

And that's what you had to deal with, day after day.

Dabi was gone, but he was everywhere.

His toothbrush in your bathroom, untouched. His clothes in your wardrobe, never washed - you can still smell him as if he was standing by your side.

No, as if your nose is deeply pressed against his neck inhaling his scent like you did all the times he had his arms wrapped around you - touching, kissing, fucking. Needing. You always needed each other all too much.

“No,” you say aloud. “I needed you. Alone.”

His fingerprints are burnt into your headboard. A vivid reminder of the night you felt too much, the night he came inside you so hard he lost control of his Blue Flame and left his mark on your bed.

“I actually like it,” he said afterwards, the same fingertips now pressed on your waist firmly. “It’s a constant reminder of who you belong to.”

“Are you saying you marked your territory?”, you scoffed, trying to push him with a smile on your face. Dabi pulled you harder against him, brushing his nose on your cheek before biting on your jaw.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he licked the skin where he just had bitten and laughed teasingly. “I want my fingerprints burnt on your skin next.”

The memory hit you like a truck.

You quickly pulled a pillow from the bed at your side and screamed into it, the air leaving your lungs at how loud you screamed. But it wasn’t enough.

You screamed again, again. And again.

Your screams weren't purging the pain.

Your throat was sore already, and you took three big gulps of the wine to try and ease it all.

Your mind felt foggy,

and yet–

All you saw was Dabi.

Dabi. Dabi. Touya.

“I don’t like alcohol.”

“Yeah?”, the dark-haired smiled, putting down his beer. “Why?”

“It makes me act like I’m not myself. And I black out super quick,” you already had your answers ready. “And the terrible hangovers.”

Dabi laughed, truly, honestly laughed. He looked around the diner you chose to eat with him – somewhere empty so no one would see the both of you.

Not only because he was a wanted man. But because he was so different from you, and people would talk if they saw the two of you together.

Your friends would talk, your family would.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, it's just…”, he laughed a little more. “You said alcohol makes you act like you're not yourself. I guess I do the same.”

If only you had listened, you would've escaped him. You could have. You should have.

But you stayed. You stayed because he made you feel things you’ve never felt before, he made you feel important and alive. He gave you the thrill to live.

The way Dabi looked at you, you could never forget– his half-lidded gaze, always full of lust and passion, as if there were nothing in the world he wanted more.

The way Dabi spoke to you at different moments of the day, teasingly or just so full of confidence. Sometimes, you could swear his voice was filled with adoration.

“What a beautiful thing like you is doing in a place like this at 1 a.m.?”

It was the first thing Dabi ever said to you.

As you were sitting alone at the docks near your apartment, your feet swinging above the water, he came to you. The presence of another person, especially a man, scared the shit out of you, so you immediately stood up and faced him – you took his appearance fully in the faint light and you remember thinking how handsome he was, scarred and everything.

Scary, yes. But handsome.

“I didn't realize it was so late. I’m going to meet my boyfriend,” you lied, afraid he might do something bad.

A smirk appeared on his lips, “Sure, doll. Want me to keep you company until you meet this boyfriend of yours?”

You shivered and stepped back, “No. I’d like to be going by myself, thank you.”

When Dabi noticed you were genuinely scared, he dropped the act right away, “Look, doll. I ain’t gonna hurt you. But I’d rather take you out of here before a guy worse than me finds you.”

Worse than me, you noticed.

“Let me take you home, will you? Because shit’s about to go down here,” he confessed.

“Right… okay,” you said mostly because you didn't know what to do. Whatever was about to go down, you wanted nothing to do with it.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised and you immediately lowered your head to hide your tinted cheeks. If he noticed, he never commented on it, “While we’re on it, why don't you tell me why you’re here so late, huh? No boyfriend shit, angel.”

What were you doing there, again?

Ah, yeah.

You went there because you had an anxiety crisis – college stuff. You were nineteen years old.

College. Fuck, you dropped it months ago.

Why did you do it, again? You can't remember.

Something about working for real to buy a house. For you and Dabi.

A strangled sound scares you, but then you realize it's the sound of your own laugh. Choked, painful, bitter.

“Dabi!”, his name leaves your lips as a prayer.

“Say it again, doll,” he demanded, stopping his worship just to talk to you. “Say my name.”

You cried out his name countless times, his tongue circling your clit teasingly while two of his fingers fucked you the way he knew you liked all too well. When you faintly cried, “Touya…”, he rutted pathetically against the mattress as he sucked on you.

His fingers were quickly out of you, both of his arms around your legs, pulling your cunt closer to his face. In one quick glance, there was devotion. “I want you making a mess on my face, got it, doll?”

“Fuck you, Dabi,” you barked to the empty room, your words slurred.

You refused to call him Touya. He wasn't Touya to you. Not now. Not anymore.

He wasn't anyone to you.

“Fuck you, fuck you.”

You stood up, immediately regretting it as everything pinned around you. Closing your eyes, you tried to count to ten before walking towards the bathroom. What you saw in the mirror scared you; a ghost of who you used to be.

You were messy. You were a mess. You doubted your value and you felt ugly in every way possible – inside and out. The bags under your eyes and the way you were neglecting your appearance didn't help your self-esteem.

Dabi left two months ago. How could you possibly still be so miserable?

Rage filling your chest, you went back to your room and grabbed your phone. You wouldn't call him – the idea of hearing his voice made you want to puke from anxiety. But you would text him, yes. You needed to hurt him as much.

You needed to.

As you opened your messages with him, you saw it – the last texts you sent.

please.

don’t do this

touya. please, come back

touya?

I miss you.

He never opened them. It angers you even more as you type:

I hwte you. I hate you for all you did to mw

I regret you all thw time

I miss who I wss befpre I met you

I cant let this go

After months with nothing from him, your heart drops when the messages immediately go from sent to read.

[waterfall-ambience]

Watcher's Call

Synopsis: After months of minding his own business and living with Worm Man and NPC Grian, something calls out to Evil Xisuma.

(Or, the events that preceded Evil Xisuma's return to Hermitcraft in March 2019.)

3.9k, vaguely within the Hurt-Comfort ballpark. Evil X is doomed by the narrative.

AO3 link

March 2019

It started in the early evening. Evil X stood at the stove, boiling pasta and stirring leftover spaghetti sauce. They usually took care of the cooking; it started out because they wanted to be better than Xisuma, but it eventually grew into genuine enjoyment. Besides, Worm Man was more than happy to let them take the wheel.

Through the whirr of the exhaust, Evil X heard someone call their name. They spun around to face Worm Man. "Did you say something?"

"No?"

"Ah. Okay, nevermind." Their focus returned to the stove, and for a while, that was that. Occasionally hearing things was fairly normal, after all. 

A faint, pulsing pain rang in their head. They pressed a hand to their temple. It would go away eventually, they thought.

The evening continued as normal. 

Evil X was quiet during dinner. They tried to listen to Worm Man talk about the new book he'd been reading. They tried to focus on the warmth of their food. Still, the pain beat and drummed away at their head, the wave of each pulse rippling outward. 

They just clenched their jaw and tried to ignore it.

"Are you alright?", asked Worm Man. 

They looked up from their pasta, and met his worried gaze. "Just a bit of a headache, is all”, they said, almost laughing it off. “Don't worry, I'll be-"

“Return to us”, said a voice. It echoed softly, melodic and crystal clear. They dropped their fork.

No, no, this couldn’t be happening. The last time they heard a voice in their head, it started picking at all the bits they didn’t like about themself. It goaded them into playing a part they loved and hated and loved again, until it deemed them worthless at it. Because of it, they sacrificed their friendships for the promise of being, and for what? 

It had been over a year since Xisuma saved them. They hadn’t done anything truly heinous since last autumn, and even that was debatable! 

There was no reason for them to be hearing voices.

"...Did you hear that?", they asked, straining to hide their panic. They could just be scaring themself silly, after all! 

Worm Man gave them concerned look. "Hear what?"

Oh, oh no. 

“I could’ve sworn I heard a voice…must’ve just been my imagination!” 

Worm Man wrapped his hands around his glass, decidedly unconvinced. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine!” said Evil X, full of false, knee-jerk confidence. The pain pressed down, harder. They strained. “It’s probably just the weather. I- ” 

A thunderclap boomed in their head.

They just managed to catch themself as they nearly collapsed and face-planted into their food. There wasn’t any denying it anymore. 

“...I think you should lie down.”

Worm Man helped them to the sofa, pulse after pulse beating at their head. Faint whispers tugged at their focus, a stream of white noise between the surges. The voices spoke with such urgency, but they couldn’t make anything of it.

In their stillness, they fixated on it. They felt their head throb against the soft cushions. The pulsing started at their temples, pushing outwards and reverberating through their skull. The voices continued on and on, whispering like the wind in a storm at sea. They curled up and begged for it to stop. A distraction would've only overwhelmed them more.

They weren’t sure how much time had passed before Worm Man came over to them. It could’ve easily been minutes, but in the haze of whispering voices and the migraine, it felt like hours.

He said something, smiling sympathetically before handing them some painkillers and milk. They stared at the glass like an idiot. They should’ve thought of using milk sooner, with the way it neutralised status effects- it would’ve saved them a lot of trouble. 

They took it, and waited. Worm Man left again, presumably to wash the dishes, as he did every night. 

Time blurred. They stared beyond their familiar living room, into the artful cracks NPG placed into the floorboards, into the shadows on the wall, through the darkened windows, and out into the black forest surrounding their home. Still, the hearth burned its golden light, like a beacon in a lonely sea. 

They were safe here, they had to be. 

Through the haze, a single voice echoed in their head, louder than all the rushing whispers. It was not harsh or distorted or acerbic. It did not taunt or demand or scald like he did. This voice was light and androgynous, and spoke in a language they couldn't recognise. The words flowed into each other like cool water, or a sweet song amidst the crash of waves and sharp winds. It called to them. Its very presence threatened to sweep them into the tide. 

They squeezed their temples harder.

Evil X was not a spiritual person. In fact, they probably bordered on irreverence. Their workings with gods and demons shattered the half-formed belief that the divine had their best interests in mind. The gods never let them have it easy- they exploited and tricked and humiliated them. They threw them into impossible realities just to point and laugh.

The gods were nothing short of cruel. 

Still, despite everything, Evil X prayed for mercy.

—

Worm Man tried to ignore the sinking feeling at the back of his mind. Evil X had a habit of getting themself into painful situations, but he’d never seen them fall apart so suddenly. It seemed one moment they were completely fine, and then the next…less so. 

He wiped down the table, cleaning up as normal. He left Evil X’s plate out, just in case they were still hungry. They lay curled up on the sofa, their messy braid poking out of their hooded jacket. 

They looked so small. 

There had to be something he could do to help, he thought. He liked doing that, helping people- he even prided himself on it. There should be something for him to do! He could tend to the fire. Clean up the coffee table. Keep them company. 

But for now, the tasks at hand.

Realistically, whatever was going on with Evil X was bound to pass eventually. They’d feel better by tomorrow morning, and everything would be fine. The migraine would be over, and they’d tell him that the voices were part of a terrible prank to get out of doing chores, or something mundane as that. 

…He felt a tad guilty, assuming that they’d go that far to… well, avoid washing dishes, which was something he already took care of.

It was probably nothing. Yeah, that was it. There was nothing to worry about! Nothing bad was going to happen and he could let his mind rest easy! It was as simple as that! He could stop this senseless worrying any time he wanted!

And so Worm Man decided to think of other things. 

He was really very lonely, not so long ago. He spent his days alone, fumbling in the cold and trying to keep busy. He went on "patrols", but they were usually just excuses to pace around the server just in case anyone needed help or saving. He wasn't stupid, though. Plenty of people needed help, but not in any way he could. The Hermits were just more capable than he was. They didn't need him.

For the longest time, no one needed him.

But now, he wasn't lonely anymore, and he had someone to save.

He stuck the plates in the dishwasher and made their way over to Evil X. The medicine should've been kicking in by now.

“Are you feeling any better?”

They shook their head. “The voices are getting louder." 

Well, that wasn't good. 

He held up a hand. "May I?", he asked, and felt their forehead.

Nothing. No fever…or anything, for that matter.

Still, Worm Man couldn't shake the sinking feeling that something was very wrong. People didn’t just collapse like this.

“I’m going to get NPG”, he told them. He didn’t expect a response, considering that Evil X was pretty much incapacitated, but it was always nice to be informed. 

Worm Man darted upstairs, through the dark, twisting corridors of the house. His heavy footfalls echoed behind him as he climbed the winding flights of stairs to NPG’s atelier. 

He imagined himself as a brave knight seeking aid from the solitary wizard at the top of the tower. That way he could be someone, anyone, braver and more capable than himself.

He trudged on, the floorboards creaking slightly as he made it to the landing. He felt a twinge of pride. Evil X couldn't make the trek without gasping for air and going red in the face, and that was on a good day.

Golden light seeped through the crack beneath the hand-carved door. 

He knocked. NPC Grian was smart, surely he’d know what to do. 

“Come in", said a distant voice.

Worm Man opened the door and stepped through. NPG sat at his desk in front of the large window, surrounded by miniature rustic houses, each one incomprehensibly intricate and detailed. The warm lamplight should’ve been comforting, but its yellow glow only made the night feel darker. 

Worm Man's composure melted away as he tried to explain the situation- about Evil X, about the voices they claimed to hear, about the migraine, about the medicine that didn’t seem to work. He felt like a child begging for his mother’s assistance

In that massive attic, he felt small, helpless, and at the mercy of big things he didn't understand.

NPG stood, the windup key attached to his back clicking slowly. “Alright, let’s see then.”

Worm Man followed him into the dark, trying not to trip on the way down.

Downstairs, Evil X had disappeared from their spot on the sofa. Instead, they lay on the floor in the corner, hugging their knees and breathing softly.

"What are you doing down there?" asked NPG. Whether he was genuinely concerned or unimpressed, Worm Man couldn’t tell. 

They strained. "It…started feeling better once I moved to this spot. It hurts more if I go anywhere else.”

“How odd.” NPG bent down to their level. “Are you seeing things?”

“No.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“Vaguely.”

“Who did the cooking tonight?”

“Me.”

NPG’s tone lightened. “So it’s unlikely that Worm Man accidentally poisoned you. We can rule that one out.”

“Hey!” Worm Man protested, a bit too loudly. NPG ignored him, and turned back to Evil X.

“Do you have a family history?”

“...Of what?”

“Anything. Migraines, heart conditions, diabetes, psychiatric disorders…”

Evil X grit their teeth. “How am I supposed to know what- ?!”

Their body tensed. They cradled their head in their hands and writhed in pain as another surge hit them. 

“So it’s just the headache and voices?” asked NPG. He sounded as if he expected an answer despite Evil X's current struggle to say anything. “Peculiar. And this started when?”

“About forty-five minutes ago”, said Worm Man, as calmly as he could manage, though he wasn't entirely sure. It was an estimate, a best guess, but it was better than nothing, right?

NPG’s processors whirred louder, and Worm Man felt his heart sink. 

“The voices…they’re telling me to go south”, said Evil X, weakly. “They want me to join them there.”

Worm Man stared at them, and then turned to NPG. “We should take them to see a doctor", he said, hoping his confidence would mask any sign of worry. He had to be strong, as a hero should.

“Oh, with their squishy human body? Absolutely. But does anyone on this server have a medical degree?”

He racked his brain. The Hermits were smart, incredibly so, but he still struggled to answer the question. He hadn’t realised it sooner. Did the hermits simply not fall ill, or ever find themselves in need of medical assistance when it’s not strictly mortal? Were they really out here, alone, without a qualified doctor? That sounded stupid. There was no way!

“...Docm?”, he asked. 

“He’s not that kind of doctor.” 

“But surely one of the Hermits would be able to help!”, said Worm Man. “If not cure it, then at least ease the pain.”

“Can we do that please”, Evil X piped up, just loud enough to be heard. 

NPG stood there, silent. The key on his back started rotating again.

Click, click, click. 

“Something doesn’t add up”, he said, after some time. “Evil Xisuma, the voices are telling you to go south, correct?”

“Mhm."

“And you said the pain eased once you moved to this corner. This is the southernmost wall of the house- I know because I built it. Continue further, and you'll end up at the Hermits' island...” 

He turned to Worm Man. “What episode is Xisuma currently on?”

Worm Man fumbled for his communicator. He scrolled through the Hermits’ upload feed until he found X’s most recent video. The number was almost impossibly high. “Seven hundred and ninety-nine." 

NPG’s windup key clicked faster. “And a few days to the Ides as well…?!”

“What’s wrong? What are the ‘Ides’?”, he asked.

“The fifteenth of March, the day Julius Caesar was assassinated by the Roman senate. In the Western cultural consciousness, it marks betrayal. I… doubt that Xisuma would do something for it, but it’s a bad sign nonetheless.”

"What do you mean?"

NPG shifted. "It's possible that something is trying to pull Evil X back to Hermitcraft, luring them into a trap. It could very well be for Xisuma's eight-hundredth episode." 

"We should warn Xisuma about this, then!"

"No. Our best bet is to stay put and let the milestone pass by without a word. If Evil Xisuma is still incapacitated afterwards, then we can look for help, but only then." He sounded as if he wanted to say more, but his neutral faceplate didn’t give Worm Man much in the way of expression.

NPG knelt down to Evil X, who still curled up on the floor. "It is imperative that you ride this one out”, he said, gently.

They looked up. "... How long will that be?"

"Three days, to start with.”

Evil X paled, even more so than they already had. "Three days", they sighed. "Three days of this…?"

"Indeed. We'll try to ease the pain in the meantime, but we can't risk you going back to Hermitcraft. It's too dangerous."

They looked at him uneasily. 

“Think of it like us tying you to the mast of a ship so you don’t go running after siren song”, said NPG. “It might be a bit uncomfortable, but you’ll be safe once we move past it.”

He pulled them up and began to set up a temporary bed by the window. They hovered, swaying slightly and gripping the sofa as if they would lose their balance and collapse.  

Worm Man hurried upstairs to fetch some clean linens, as well as Evil X's clothes and toiletries. He was being helpful. He was in control. The situation might've been a bit more dire than he anticipated, but after three days, everything would be fine! 

Everything would be fine…it had to be. 

When he returned barely a minute later, NPG had just about finished setting up.

"Thanks guys", said Evil X, though their smile was twisted into a pained grimace. 

"Not a problem." Worm Man grasped their hand. "These things happen sometimes." There he was again, saying things to comfort himself. “Can you walk?”

“I should be fine”, they said, still swaying. They staggered to the bathroom to wash up, but Worm Man stayed close just in case they fell. 

Afterwards, Worm Man found NPG in the dining room, drawing the curtains. 

"Thank you, NPG, really", he told him.

"Think nothing of it. I care about them, too, you know." He pulled at the last set of curtains and turned towards the stairs, ready to return to whatever project he was working on.

"Before you go-”, started Worm Man, “How do you know these things? About that stuff with the voices and the server being dangerous?"

NPG stared at him, wearily.

Click, click. 

 "There's little I can say without completely shattering your worldview. You have a right to your innocence, after all." He sighed. "…Sometimes the divine is not on your side."

…Huh?

"I didn't know you were religious", said Worm Man, in an attempt to be polite.

He suddenly felt a pang of guilt, bringing up a subject as personal as spirituality. Considering NPG’s past, it was probably a bit awkward.

"I'm not religious at all", said NPG. "The fact of the matter is that the gods are not strictly kind to people like us, and neither is the audience."

"I understood that completely”, lied Worm Man, with his old ‘heroic’ confidence.

"It's better if you don't. I'm certain I'd be much happier if I didn't know the Truth of this world, but at least that knowledge can help Evil Xisuma." 

"What's the Truth, then?", asked Worm Man, almost pleading. "Maybe I can-"

"No", said NPG. His voice hardened, and his beady eyes bore into the depths of his soul. "Divine knowledge is too heavy a burden.”

Worm Man shrank back. His face burned with a quiet, childlike shame. His friend was in danger, and he wasn't good or strong enough to help.

“It is best you remain ignorant and oblivious”, NPG continued. “Especially since these are things none of us were meant to understand. Not me, not Evil Xisuma, and not you."

He couldn't help anyone, not even when it mattered.

"It is foolish to yearn for celestial light", said NPG, in some vague attempt to comfort him. "Stay in the dark for the sake of your happiness, and focus on the things you can control." 

Worm Man let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I think I understand now.” He smiled. “Goodnight.”

"Goodnight”, echoed NPG. Without another word, he headed upstairs, back to his atelier.

Worm Man traced over the words in his mind like an unwanted carving. 

Focus on the things you can control. 

As if he wasn’t doing that already! As if he wasn’t already trying to do the best he could. There had to be something else he could do. There had to be something more, something to save Evil X from the pain or the monster that beckoned them close.

He might not have been a hero, not anymore, but what good was he if he couldn’t even save his dearest friend from this? He didn’t have magic like Evil X or a mind like NPG’s. He didn’t have the skills to be a Hermit. All he had was himself and a fading promise to protect the ones he loved.

If he had more of that knowledge, that Truth, could he have come up with a plan? A solution? A cure?

It was like NPG said all the time, knowledge was power… though he knew from Evil X that power came at a price. 

He sat at the dining table, in the golden light that only seemed colder now. He had to find a way out of this. There must have been a solution, something that could save everyone without sacrificing himself or his sanity. A third option.

But if it came down to it, he knew he’d reach for that Truth.

Evil X returned a moment later, still pale. Worm Man helped them to their bed in the south corner of the living room.

“Sorry for scaring you back there”, they said, fixing themself underneath the covers.

They hardly apologised for things like this, and Worm Man wished they kept it that way. “It’s alright. Are you feeling better?”

“The voice has gone quiet. Maybe NPG sussed it out?”

“If that’s the case, these next few days should be no problem at all”, he smiled at them. Finally some good news. 

“We’ll see. Who knows really, with these sorts of things.” They squeezed his hand gently. Worm Man squeezed it back.

“I bet that you’ll be fine by tomorrow”, he said, as if he could speak the possibility into existence. 

“I hope so, too.”

He bid them goodnight, staring into the dark as they turned the lights off. 

—

Evil X woke up to dark blue. The sun would begin to rise soon, and they had to get going. Whatever was coming was going to hurt.

They crept around the house with a painfully clear head. They skirted every creaky floorboard and made their footsteps light. Worm Man might've been a heavy sleeper, but they didn't want to risk it. Besides, NPG could've been anywhere. They usually weren't up this early- they didn't know what his routine was like.

Evil X's armour stood in the dark part of their closet, having gone unused after many months of domestic peace. Brushing past their usual shirts and jumpers, they dug it out, thumbing at the scratches on the cool metal. They dressed themself. Each piece of their persona perfectly slid into place. Their helmet’s interface still lit up after all this time, and the interior cushioning still felt exactly as they remembered. 

It was almost as if they never stopped playing this part. 

They continued their preparations, gathering together food, medication, and weapons. 

…This was wrong.

They knew it was. They were given explicit instructions to stay, for the sake of their own safety. The server was dangerous right now, especially to them.

But they had to go back. They had to face whatever storm willed them there. It was stupid, so egreiously stupid, and they wouldn’t be okay- they knew that- but what other choice did they have? 

They couldn’t stay. Against all reason, they knew they couldn’t stay. No matter how much NPG or Worm Man begged them or forced them or tied them to their bed, they simply could not. 

And as to why they had to leave, they had no answer. There wasn’t anything exciting or interesting on Hermitcraft, at least not to them. 

Everything they loved was right here, right here in the outskirts of the server, in this house near the woods. Why risk it all? Why throw themself into this voice’s tide?

They ought to leave a note. 

I’m sorry. 

Thank you for being my friends.

 I love you. 

I wish you well. 

Goodbye. 

They didn’t really believe they wouldn’t come back from this, did they? That would be too bleak, surely! It would all be fine in the end. Whatever Xisuma had planned for them would probably just be something they'd end up laughing about later. It would be a silly story to tell at any party they'd be invited to in the years to come. 

They'd come back with a slap on the wrist at most, probably.

They just had to go back to Hermitcraft despite all NPG's warnings and prove once and for all that everything was fine. The voice was just a hallucination! It was all in their head! Nothing was happening! Nothing at all! This was about to be the most boring and pointless excursion they’ve ever done! 

Their final note amounted to little more than a prayer. 

Outside, the sky began to lighten. With their head clear and all pain replaced with conviction, Evil X slipped through the cool morning air, focusing only on the horizon line through the trees.

They did not look back, in a vain attempt to leave their fate unsealed. They would return, safe and sound. 

They had to. 

When Worm Man inevitably wakes, he'll find their note and cling to its promise.

"Back soon."

Additional notes:

This was meant to be a thematic sequel to Laid Low. I started this soon after that fic was published but didn't finish it for a long time afterwards, and it as even longer until I decided to publish it.

There’s meant to be another part to this- a Worm man-centric longfic about him dealing with the fallout and metatextual tampering.

Unsure if I’ll end up writing it, especially since my focus is mostly my OCs (Perpetua) nowadays.

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

i'm going on my first holiday trip tomorrow and i'm going to sit in a car for 4 hours but it has it's pros because i'm going to play taylor swift music to my mom and make her choose her fav song. she agreed to listen to only ten songs so i'm going to play her haunted, would've could've should've, this is me trying, i know places, champagne problems, illicit affairs, the lakes, all too well (10 min version), long story short and the last great american dynasty. i hope that she will like it

people call me weird but I LOVE long car rides, they’re visually stimulating and you can kind of just exist.

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve is one of my favourites honestly (I’m a lover and midnights kinda guy)

update me with her favourite 🫡

[belethlegwen]

The Faerie Spell - Chp 9

Chapter One: Click Here Previous Chapter: Click Here Story Directory: Click Here Words: 9317 Summary: Daphne continues to navigate her situation at Nakahara's Cellar where she's been trying to recover in the hour or so since she's been rescued. Trying to avoid entering multiple panic spirals, she has to consider how she'll get home and what's going to be awaiting her when she gets there.

[Major appreciations again to @adjacentperception for the wonderful opportunity to RP with their characters and play in their setting with this story. I love The Cellar and all of the beautiful folks that hang out there <3]

How can you feel like you’re boiling hot and chilled to the bone at the same time? Apparently, one way is to just be incredibly stupid and have to face up to a billion consequences you maybe should’ve thought of before taking a step out the door.

I was mad. I was mad at myself, I was mad at that stupid Faerie, I was mad at how my friends were almost definitely going to react when they finally found out what happened; But I was also terrified of all of those things as well. What if it had happened while I was driving? My dumb ass would be baked in a hot car like a purse-dog that someone forgot about, abandoned and locked-in on the side of the road. What if it had happened where I wasn’t able to pull over? Just… suddenly raptured out of the driver’s seat?

All of the things The Gang were about to yell at me for… yeah. Yeah they’d have a fucking point. Could’ve died in a billion different ways, and all because my dumb ass wanted to go for a walk without Gem. It felt like there was ice creeping up the back of my neck as everything started to really pile in, and—

"Hey,” Zora’s voice pulled me back to a reality that should’ve still been terrible, but was so much… nicer, than where ever my head was about to flush itself to. “You're not a criminal for wanting to have a haircut."

I turned away from the phone to look up at her, my chest too tight initially to respond. She seemed to lower herself just a little more to get closer to my level, and that was just… so appreciated, right now, compared to how I usually felt about that.

"You're allowed to have your freedom, and it sounds like you at least made the effort to be careful about it like… they can't exactly be mad at you for this."

I laughed bitterly at Zora's comment. I didn't mean to-- she was being so nice and I'm sure if I had made the same laugh at my regular size, somebody would've hit me in the mouth. I didn't want to argue with her, but I mean… my stupid ass got me into this mess and my friends had probably been panicking for at least an hour by this point, looking for me. They could exactly be mad at me for this.

God, mad would be the nice option out of what they could be at me, right now.

My mouth was opening to reply-- to argue, honestly-- practically involuntarily, everything just wanting to rush out of my body and ramble again like it had been, when Arthur's voice made me turn so fast I think I pulled something that was already sore.

"Your friends sound like shit."

I wasn’t really in the headspace, in that moment, to think of how funny that blunt, flat-toned line probably was.

"Arthur."

Zora didn’t seem amused either.

"If they've made her feel like being cursed is her fault and a giant inconvenience for themselves, then they’re shit friends. Get better ones whose texts wont make you breathe like that."

It rumbled around my head a few times. No-- no. They're not. They care about me and they want me to be safe, and then I go and pull stupid shit like this. My arms squeezed tightly around myself after I finished rubbing at my magically-cooled neck, too lost in the rollercoaster of thoughts to really appreciate magic goo all over my body doing it's thing. Was he right? Like… did I feel like they blamed me for my curse and stuff?

Stupid question. Yeah, they did.

"It's not intentional," I had blurted out defensively before really taking the 2 seconds it would've needed to realize that that still sounded uh… bad. I was also caught up on how bad my breathing was that Arthur could hear it. Blind-people powers, something something, he could probably hear it better than most people, but I really hadn't noticed how whack my cardio was being until he mentioned it. "They just want to keep me safe…"

I don't know if I believed it. They wanted me safe, mostly because it kept me out of trouble. They wanted me home so if this happened, it only bothered one of them, maybe two.

I felt like I wanted to sink straight through the bar into the ground. Then, Zora’s voice was back.

"How long do these spells of yours typically last?" She was really good at this, despite her insistence she didn’t know what she was doing. Girl was able to pull me back from a spiral like I was her yo-yo.

"Days," I said, turning to look up at Zora again. "It's… more complicated than that. They started short, and I had a couple of short ones in the middle… one of the last ones was really short? Two of them, maybe?" My headache was coming back full force as I tried to make sure the phone was as completely out of my view as something bigger than me could ever really be. "The latest one that ended this morning was almost two full days. The record for it is a little over four, I think? And I mean… I never-- it's never happened this fast after a zonk, shift, whatever, before. I don't-- this is new."

"Could we help you lay low here and make sure your friends don't get the password until the whole thing has blown over? I'm sure we could offer you a decent alibi if you give us a few minutes to think of one."

Her question made my eyes drop back down to the sweater I was on, and the bar top, glad that Zora's arms were still resting on it. It made me feel less exposed, less… vulnerable, I guess, though that seemed stupid to say. I was obviously vulnerable. I flinched as I tried to hug myself tighter and just pinched one of my bruised ribs. My mind was racing, trying to consider the options and the offer. "I… I don't want to keep you out for maybe days of this bullshit until the fucker gets his shit together and puts me back to normal, but like… yeah, I don't really… I don't wanna see them… just yet."

My eyes gazed down at my hands and arms, my coat still somewhere beside me. I was battered to shit, even if I could lie low and this was short, it's not like my took-on-Mike-Tyson-ass was going to look or feel any better in IMAX compared to the mobile version of me.

"…I think I just need a bit of time to think about it, if you'll let me stay at least that long. Sorry for making it such a problem."

Listen. I’m no stranger to looks of concern or worry or pity or… we won’t talk about some of the others right now, everything else is still too much. Especially since this all went down, I’m used to getting looks. The looks I’ve gotten and still get from my friends when this happens, the looks I’ve gotten when I had to mention that I was cursed. They’ve run the gamut. But the look of genuine, just… human concern that Zora gave me was something I had seen so rarely that it shocked me when I looked back up to listen to her.

“Please don't,” her voice was so, so quiet. God, I don’t get this, ever, when I’m down here. Even at the start, nobody cared to just be soft. “You wouldn't be putting me out. I'm happy to be of help as long as you need me to be. Few hours, few days, whatever. If you need somewhere to be I can help.”

My rat-brain was churning out vague attempts to try and convince me that that was how I get murdered or something, but it was impossible to believe that even for a second when even in this situation, I just felt… so much more at ease with that idea. Like, how did that feel so much better than Gem’s place? Or even my own? I obviously had been staring too long without a response, because she cut back in pretty fast.

“I understand that we barely know each other, so maybe that doesn't sound as welcoming or earnest as I would like, but the offer still stands,” she offered quickly, Arthur moving up alongside her and resting himself on his elbows on the bartop. I assumed, honestly, that he was going to ‘subtly’ stop her. It’d be weird to have a complete stranger— even a tiny one— just… around like that. Wouldn’t it?

“We could set you up with some space in the back if you really needed to hide out.” Kinda glad he’s blind, I’m sure the stupid face I made would’ve made him laugh otherwise. Me and Zora both kinda looked at him, though she was much less surprised than I was about his interjection, as he spoke more. “Public space might feel safer, but you'd have to be chill with like… muffled bar sounds.”

While I tried to think of a way to respond, Zora perked up enough to ask what time the bar opened tonight, an anxiety I hadn’t even worried about until she mentioned it. “We open whenever we feel like opening. It'll be a minute before anyone comes knocking,” Arthur’s flat voice retorted at her as I finally got my tongue in working order again. Not that it would matter, much. Arthur spoke again.

“You're not a problem. Don't think having a curse makes you a problem.”

It was like he could read my thoughts. Arthur had turned his head vaguely in my direction as he said it like he knew I was about to… I guess not necessarily argue, but close enough.

“Zora has a curse, a chunk of our patrons are cursed; Lots of people have curses,” the giant man continued as I just stood there, blinking, Zora casually glancing between the two of us. “The guy we're getting medicine from has like… seven or something ridiculous.”

“Not a bad guy, but…” Zora drawled. “He deserves his.”

Arthur cut back, a very faint hint of defensiveness though I’ll admit that the guy was nearly impossible to get any kind of read on most of the time. “Most of his. I'll argue a few in his favor. He's got garbage luck.”

Zora was just as quick. “That might be one of them.”

“Shit,” I uttered, getting both of their attentions off their banter for a moment. “I really didn’t know curses just… got around like that.” They were speaking so casually about it. Zora didn’t even look cursed, but Arthur knew and they were open enough about it to just tell a stranger? Well— ok, fair enough to point out that I was obviously cursed so like, yeah, probably a safe bet I’d be less likely to judge. The guy with a fucking collection of them sounded a bit much, but I guess if it’s helpful in giving him experience for the medicine stuff, maybe it’s a good thing?

I was about to rush headlong into a pile of questions that were probably… way too personal, when Arthur pulled me back with that deep, flat tone again. “Anyways, the point stands: No one should be making you feel like shit for that.”

This man had a frown that— I’m sure that even if I was at regular size— looked like it could turn someone to stone. It wasn’t directed at me, but god… he meant it.

He meant it, and that felt… that felt too good really to put into any words. At least at the time.

I had wanted to ask almost immediately what Zora’s curse was, but it just felt too personal. She was lucky; hers wasn’t as obvious as a doll-sized person crying on a bar-top in the middle of the day. I felt bad about making her open up about something she was easily able to hide like that. I focused instead on asking about curses in general, musing about how it seemed too taboo to talk about and that’s probably why I was so ignorant about how common it was. “Probably didn’t help that I was basically thrown out of a place for mine, so like—“

Arthur’s face scrunched up so fast and so dramatically I practically felt it. “Who kicked you out for being small?” He blurted, his sunglasses coming so close to looking directly at me that for a moment I was sure he could actually see. “That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

“Give us a name and we'd be happy to spread the word around our people,” Zora added firmly, nodding at me as her hands and arms moved in closer. I don’t know if she meant to, but it made me feel good instead of like I was about to get trapped or something. “We’ll make sure they don't get any business out of us.”

They were so fucking protective. Of me. Already.

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel guilty.

“I… uh… I don’t remember her name,” I lied, scratching at the back of my neck. I didn’t want to start a fight; if curses were that easy to get, I’m sure the witch would easily saddle me a few more if she found out I was smack-talking her business. She’d probably assume Cal’s eggs were thrown by me, too. Definitely not what I needed right now. “I wasn’t small when I saw her. She just wasn’t able to help with my curse. Was pretty nasty about it, but— it’s like— mine is probably different and that might’ve just been like… maybe she didn’t like…”

The last thing I wanted to do was make these people suddenly regret scraping me off of the concrete by telling them about my Faerie Bullshit(tm). But… I don’t know. Maybe they were cool about it? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to prod a little?

“Is it… are there like, bad ways to get a curse?” I asked, immediately throwing my hands up in front of me defensively. “I only ask because that seemed to be, uh… her issue.”

The two giant people in front of me got to stewing over my question in a way that made me want to just go hide in the walls or something instead, in case they pieced together what had happened to me. What was actively still happening to me. “I mean… maybe? Probably… humans find a way to hate anything but… hm…” Zora mumbled.

“I guess if they thought you might bring more bad juju with you or something but… that's still pretty stupid…” Arthur droned. “Like… as long as you didn't get it for being a prick about something I don't know what the problem could be…”

Zora tilted her head at me and those giant eyes glanced me over. “I feel like people are more judgey about particular curses than like… origins.”

Arthur’s shrug and a gruff huffing noise didn’t even make me turn my head away from Zora as she watched me. “The vampires who took it willingly and trot around like they're hot shit are pretty fucking annoying but… I don't feel like that's an answer,” he said.

I was feeling more and more awkward as the conversation continued, and my body was really starting to ache as I just stood there. I kind of wanted to sit down again, but putting myself back on the sweater under my feet seemed pretty daunting given how messed up I was.

“None of it is any more taboo than you make it out to be. For some people it depends on the curse or the circumstance.” I really wanted to tell her again that she was good at this. She was making me feel better, no matter how my face probably looked at the time. “Werewolves still get a lot of undue shit in some places, but y'know, people are hard to convince when they’re scared. A lot of it is dying out as we modernize.”

I had never heard Vampires and Werewolves talked about like they were people. I didn’t want to say anything; again— came from a shit community with shit people around me who thought drug addicts deserved to suffer because they had sinned and shit and left it at that. If you were good and just and made the Right Decisions, nothing bad would ever happen to you.

“Basically,” Arthur cut in as his arms slid out on the bar, very careful to not come near to where I was, “it's no more taboo than talking about any sort of disability, and that has variances. To combat this, we don't let assholes in. That works pretty well.”

“I appreciate you not letting assholes in.” It was all I could really think to say; if I had woken up to being poked at by a bar full of people who were going to be judgey at me for what happened— I mean, it was bad enough trying to find the courage to talk to these people who had already been so incredibly nice about it. Zora’s arms seemed to shift just a little closer around me as she leaned down more to my level, her voice getting softer.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Like, I get that you might want information but.. you don't have to give out what you don't want to.”

It took me a second for the words to really hit, but when they did I think I may have actually deflated. “Thanks…” I managed, taking a deep breath and smiling up at her. “Honestly. That… that means a lot, to hear. I definitely want to get answers, but… now’s probably not the best time.”

Pretty sure there was someone at that exact moment wondering where that stain on their shoe came from so… yeah. Probably an indicator that I could wait on any intense information digging. Speaking of digging, though…

“Would…” I started quietly, after turning to stare at the phone again, the icons having shifted place as most messages had rolled in in the peace of silent-mode. “Would it be ok to add you as friends or anything?” God, I sounded like I was 14 again. “It’s cool if not. I just… if I can talk to you guys and stuff, I’d love to come back here when things aren’t as… zonked, I guess. For me, I mean.”

I hadn’t even finished asking when Zora swung a massive arm up the bar to get a napkin and slide it down, Arthur groping around under the bar to get a pen. Before long, I was punching in their info to my account on her giant phone to add them both. It gave me a reason to get off of my inbox for a bit, at the very least, and that did wonders for how I was feeling. Well, that, and Zora offering again that I could lay low here or with her, and that the offer was always open.

I straight-up told her that that would be nice, even if just to get me out of the house sometime with someone who knows, who isn’t as likely to like… explode about it. Fuck, who knows how long it would be before I’d be allowed out again though. I was part way through suggesting that if she liked coffee I had very recently discovered a nice spot we could try, when Madge burst back in in a flurry and nearly scared the daylights out of me.

“Good god, Jasper is a chattering fool,” she was grumbling as she swept back toward the rest of us with vials in her hand.

“See, it’s not all my fault,” Arthur’s flat voice had managed to become comforting to me that quickly.

“You do not help,” Madge shot at him as she plopped a vial with a thick, pale-yellow goo in it on the bartop near us. “This is the one we were missing,” she said, her voice less loud now that she was close to me. It was appreciated. She seemed like the kind of woman who could knock a wall down with a few words if she really needed to. “Jasper recommends getting a bit on the end of a toothpick and stirring it into something for this sort of scene.”

“What does this one do?” Zora raced me to the question.

“Mends light fractures faster,” Madge said, sending my eyebrows straight up. “He’s not a miracle worker, but it’s a godsend if you can get it in ya early.” She turned to me, that quick flick of her eyes scanning me up and down though it was less aggressive-staring like I was kind of used to and more of that same concern that Zora was giving me. “Is the cold stuff helping at all?”

I stammered like an idiot. “Oh—uh— yes. Yeah, like… loads. My body doesn’t feel like it’d rather jettison my limbs than move them, which is nice.” To be fair to myself, I was way more focused on the magic potion vial. “Damn,” I breathed, staring at it. “I should’ve been checking out magic shops way before this.”

Madge was happy to hear the blue-goo was working, and she quickly set out another vial with a clearer liquid that was kind of… maroon? Just a pain-killer type of deal, apparently, which I was pretty excited for until…

“The nature of these,” she explained as she picked up my tiny cup from nearby, “is that they’re gonna taste real funky, just less-so when you mix them up.”

Arthur shrugged as he stopped leaning on the bartop. “I always feel like rum covers it best, but we’ve got other options.”

“I mean, carbonation does a decent job also,” Zora said with her own shrug.

“Either way, what drink would you like to taste like a foot so we can do this?” Madge asked so swiftly and so bluntly I blurted into a laugh instantly. That seemed to brighten the mood a little.

“I mean… a little bit of rum and coke won’t make this any worse, I think,” I said, still chuckling with a shrug. Arthur was already on the move to the back wall to start running his hands across the bottles before I even mentioned what I was looking for. It wasn’t like I was going to be driving BillTron home tonight; I’d need Cal to come with me or get one of the others to take my keys once they were back to a usable size again, and—

Cal.

“Um, Madge?” I asked, turning back to Zora’s phone and flicking it back to the inbox and the message previews again. “Did you… see anybody outside? Maybe acting weird? Dirty blonde hair, usually wears a beanie. They might’ve biked…”

Madge cut me off before I could spiral into worry about Cal. “The one walking in circles and not watching where he’s going? We may have met. Friend of yours?”

Why did that make my blood go cold? I nodded, and jumped a little as one of Zora’s hands slid closer to me again. She was looking at me with a worried stare. “Do you need more time?” She asked. “Do you need us to cover for you?”

I’m sure I made some kind of concerning noise as my brain ground to a halt, my heart going through the worst kind of cardio exercises yet again. “Uh… yes. Wait— no. Cal is… Cal is good.” Zora bit her lip at me as she listened, and her expression kind of said it all; I was as confident as a cat on a sinking boat and it was obvious. “They’ll be… fine! They definitely need to know where I am at some point, just…”

Now I absolutely knew I was making a noise as some kind of pathetic whining escaped me. Zora’s hand crept a little closer and I reached out to touch it if only for something to help ground myself. She rubbed her thumb against my back, and it was actually… reassuring, like someone patting my back. I didn’t know if she meant to do it intentionally, but I appreciated it all the same. I looked up at her again. “Just… follow my lead if I feel like I need to invent some kind of relation to keep them chill? I’m sorry— I promise they’re the better one out of everyone but just… I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Zora replied as Madge looked on with noted confusion. I had forgotten she wasn’t here for the other two telling me they thought my friends were trash. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll help however we can.”

“So… should I go get him?” Madge asked.

Zora nodded with me. “Her friends should probably know she’s not dead.”

“Don’t tell him the password,” Arthur said over his shoulder. I was on the verge of asking if they actually had a password when Madge snorted out a laugh and headed towards the exit.

“Fine, I’ll leave it open,” she said, Arthur nodding vaguely in response as Madge disappeared out the door and back up the stairs. He placed a tumbler I could’ve soaked myself in near me and Zora with a container of toothpicks.

“Can you finish this?” He asked Zora, who had already picked up my tiny glass and a straw and was filling it for me. She seemed like she had done this dozens of times before as she used the toothpicks to swirl the medicine carefully into the glass and handed it back to me.

She had warned me not to think too much about the taste, and I had said I’d manage to get it down with way more confidence than was accurate. On the first big gulp I took the smell and awful… pre-after-taste? Hit me like an overflowing garbage truck. Zora pressed against me as I leaned back into her hand and plugged my nose to get through the rest of it. The painkiller part kicked in practically instantly, I just wished it did it’s thing on tastebuds too. Something something, beggars and choosers, something. I handed back the glass as me and Zora chuckled at how awful the stuff was, Arthur putting everything back in it’s place on the back wall when Madge re-entered with Cal.

“This one belong to you?” She asked from across the room, looking at me. Cal’s eyes were dodging to every dark corner of the bar, hunched and tense. I’d seen the look before; they absolutely thought they were being led into a murder basement.

It took me a second of staring to clock the weird feeling of massive relief at seeing one of my best friends and the chilling feeling of knowing how they were probably about to react to seeing me. When their eyes finally landed on me I kind of snapped back out of it and reached into my pocket for the amplifying stone and activated it, waving at them awkwardly from the bartop. “Hey, Cal…”

Zora jumped slightly, which caused me to jump only because I had still been leaning on her hand when it happened. She recovered pretty fast from the volume change though, moving her hand away as Cal immediately turned into the limp-spaghetti person I’ve always known. “Oh thank fucking God,” they blurted. “You’re actually here.”

They squared back up almost instantly, the relief short-lived as Cal glanced between Zora and Arthur with a concerned stare. I couldn’t blame them, Arthur had spun around on hearing Madge enter again and was leaning against the back bar with his arms folded, head toward the doorway. “…You good, or—“ Cal started to ask.

“I’m good, I’m good!” I called in a vague panic as Madge left Cal by the door and headed to stand next to Arthur. “They’re fine, it’s good!”

They didn’t relax much, but they felt at least ok enough to start approaching the bar.

“Hey there,” Zora said in a friendly greeting that was notably on the tense side, at least compared to how she had been before Cal walked in. “Nice to meet you, I’m Zora.”

“Hey, I’m Cal.”

I looked up at Zora to try and soothe her a little. “Me and Cal have been close friends for a long while. We come from the same neck of the woods.”

Cal’s awkward reply uh… undid any of the progress I had made in that regard as they said: “She uhhh… wasn’t always like this, heh.”

So if there’s one thing I always kind of hated with being small, it was being the topic of conversation for two people who were literally towering over you, who were talking like you weren’t even there. Like they had forgotten about you. The way Zora’s eyes kind of narrowed at Cal, I felt like I was maybe about to experience that again.

“Yeah,” Zora drawled awkwardly before brightening back up almost suspiciously fast. “she’s told us herself. But it’s not as if that would’ve prevented you from being friends, yeah?”

“I mean,” Cal replied with their crooked grin, “it’d have been hard to see her, mostly.”

I let out a reactive, polite laugh as Cal laughed at their own joke at a volume that I hadn’t had to worry much about for the last… well, however long I had been on a bar. The joke… didn’t go over well with everyone else. Zora’s face barely twitched, but Arthur was in the back trying to put both corners of his mouth through the floorboards, Madge also making an uncomfortable and displeased face as she put herself a bit more in front of Arthur. Like… it was awkward. I get it. This was just Cal though, it was fine.

…Wasn’t it?

“This is Arthur and Madge,” Zora said with a quick motion toward them, as if trying to get Cal to look at the two in case they might clue in. “They own the place, I just work here sometimes.” The three gave awkward waves, Cal as oblivious as ever still. My stomach was fixing to jump right out onto the sweater I was still standing on if this continued to get any more tense. Being an unseen spec on the bar top wasn’t helping my mood either. That was, until Zora spoke again, nodding down at me. “We met Daphne outside and offered some assistance.”

Zora’s description of what went down relaxed me so much, I found myself letting out a breath I had no idea I was holding. “Yeah, Zora’s been an incredible help, she got me inside after the zonk,” I said, turning to try and get Cal’s attention again. “Thanks for coming, my phone died and—“

“Wait,” Cal blurted, loudly, turning and blinking at me as if they suddenly remembered that I was here; that I was the reason they even came here. “How did you zonk?” I don’t even know if I had time to stammer something out before they talked over me again. “I thought you said it ended this morning?”

“No—no! It did end!” I said, trying to explain. “It happened again while I was out!”

Cal gestured in confusion toward me, their arms entering my airspace in big sweeps. “Why did you leave? Without telling anyone?”

Panic. It was mild, but it was just the start. I knew this was going to happen, I knew this was going to go to shit. God. What made me feel worse about it was knowing that this was how Zora was going to have to learn that I’m an idiot; by watching me get chewed out for every stupid decision I made. “I thought I had a few days, I usually have a few days… I just wanted to go get a haircut and a coffee an—“

Cal leaned down so fast to look at me I almost jumped backwards, worried I was going to choke on my own words. “Holy shit,” they muttered, their brow furrowed and looking extremely concerned as their massive eyeballs bounced up and down to look at me. “What happened to you?”

Their fingers and thumb gripped me as their hand swept across the bar, and the panic set in completely. “Cal—“ I grunted out through some kind of barrage of pained noises, but it didn’t matter.

“Relax,” they said, moving to lift me while I flailed, “I just need to look—“

I must’ve blinked, because suddenly Zora’s arm was across almost the entirety of my view and Cal’s hand was springing open to drop me back onto the sweater. I staggered back as a massive wave of noise crashed over me from all sides, my chest heaving and sore as the painkiller potion tried to kick back in.

“Bro you’re hurting her,” Zora snapped like thunder overhead, leaning across as she held Cal’s arm with one hand, the other one sliding up behind me as I staggered straight back into it.

“Shit—“ Cal hissed in surprise.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Madge was calling from the back of the bar where she was holding Arthur back with a fully extended arm against him.

“You can’t just grab someone who’s hurt like that!” Zora continued sharply. Her eyes were like they were on fire as she leaned even more over the bar to get right in Cal’s face. “Do you not hear her?”

“You shouldn’t just grab anyone, period,” Arthur was muttering from the back of the bar as Zora finally let go of Cal’s wrist and just barely backed off from them.

Cal was stammering, pale as a ghost and holding their arm in front of them like Zora had burned it. “Shit, shit— I didn’t know it was that bad— shit.”

My hands were cradling my sides where I had been pinched, rubbing them to help the numbing feeling of the potions come back faster as Zora looked down at me.

“You good?”

I nodded up at Zora, coughing faintly as I tried to speak again. “It’s ok,” I said, just repeating to try and stop whatever had just happened from happening again. “It’s ok, it’s ok—“

“Shit, I am so sorry, fuck— I—“ Cal was still panicking, looking between me and Zora with a massive face of regret and concern.

“I’m good, it just— it wasn’t bad bad it just… everything’s hurt already so—“ I said, glancing between all four of the gargantuan people in the bar.

“Are you sure?” Zora asked, her hand pressing against me a little as she looked me over again. “Do you need more water? Did we just negate the painkiller?”

I shook my head. “No, no, painkiller is still working. Water maybe would be good but it’s ok, it can wait a second.” I said, as Zora’s concerned face continued to check on me. “Cal didn’t know, it’s ok, they do that all the time,” I tried to explain.

They nodded rapidly in agreement with me, hopefully cluing in that I was trying to save their ass. “Yeah,” they said, quickly. “That’s normal, I just didn’t know she was hurt— shit, what happened though?”

“You are aware,” Arthur’s blunt voice from the back got mine and Cal’s attentions quickly, “that saying this is normal makes it so much worse, right?”

“It shouldn’t matter that she’s hurt,” Zora added. “You don’t just do that to someone.”

My mouth opened to try and defend Cal. That was the original intent, I know it was. Cal’s my friend, I don’t know the rest of these people from a hole in the ground. But as my mouth opened while I was still staring at the intense frown on Arthur’s face, my brain just said one thing: Arthur was right. They were all right. I had hated getting picked up without being asked, I had hated getting grabbed. I had hated being pulled and carried around without anyone listening if I did bother to say anything, and literally no one had ever seemed to… care how I felt about it.

As I watched Cal jerk back a little with every single thing Zora said to them, my instinct was to try and defend them. But as Zora’s hand curled around me a little more, and gave me a safe place to just… breathe, that instinct went away.

“How on earth would you like that?” Zora snapped again, her voice sharp but still so much quieter than Cal’s had been. “Someone just squeezing your whole body with no thoughts at all?”

“I— it—“ Cal stammered, flinching as the barrage kept coming. “I didn’t think—“

“If she’s your friend you should at least treat her like a human fucking being.”

“It’s just what I’ve always done so I—?” Cal stuttered out.

“Saying that isn’t the cover you think it is,” Arthur said flatly, but I could see the veins on the side of the man’s head twitching as he leaned out over Madge’s arm. “You are admitting to garbage behavior, and I need you to understand how fucked up that is.”

Zora looked about ready to jump the bar after Cal as well.

“Zora, darling,” Madge’s voice came calmly from the back bar and cut them off as I moved a hand back behind me to rest on Zora’s palm, just to try and steady myself a little more. “He’s clearly an idiot, don’t get too angry. It’s to be expected.”

Cal shrank back at the comment, and then further as Zora muttered to Madge: “Well for fuck’s sake, it doesn’t take half a braincell to be decent.”

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Madge said sweetly, addressing Cal with a smile that looked from where I was standing like it could be hiding a series of knives behind it. “We have a deep respect for autonomy down here.”

I locked eyes with Madge briefly, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ to her as Cal was finally calming down, now practically half way back to the exit after all of the shots they had just taken. “I uh… I get it, I think, I just—“ they started before turning to look at them all. “Fuck, I’m uh… I’m really sorry?”

“Well done on figuring it out at the dumbest possible time,” Madge said with that calm, sweet smile again. “It shouldn’t have taken this, but we’re glad you got there.”

Zora’s hand cupped around me a little more. I don’t know if during any of my bullshit episodes like this if I had ever been just… ‘held’ doesn’t even seem like the right word. Protected? This was new. It was new and it was nice and I liked it, especially right now as Zora’s voice sounded almost like a growl while she spoke to Cal again.

“Do not apologize to any of us. Don’t apologize because you feel like you’re in trouble. Apologize to her,” she nodded down at me and I pressed my hand further into her palm, “for not taking her humanity into consideration for two fucking seconds. You should feel terrible about that.”

Cal had practically withered away, and was somehow still managing to wither more. “I… fuck…” Their swearing was actually kind of soothing to me, only in that I only ever heard it happen like this before they had a pretty big attitude shift. For once, it seemed like that attitude shift would benefit me. “Garbage seems like a bit much but—“

I think they finally noticed Madge literally holding Arthur back and decided to abruptly shut up and change topic. They looked down at me finally. “Fuck, Daph… I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” I smiled, feeling so much better about all of this with just those words. Then Cal kept talking. “You should’ve said something.”

I wondered, for a brief moment, if Cal would actually get murdered in front of me if I mentioned that I have absolutely said something, and been saying somethings this whole time. I leaned more into Zora’s hand only to keep it off of Cal’s throat. “Hey… it’s… this has been weird, and like—“ Y’know what? I’d like at least some praise for the fact that I could’ve been way more awkward about all of this and we only had to deal with this amount of awkward from me. “We’ll work on it,” I offered them. “I mean, you were getting better.”

“Oh,” Cal’s eyes glazed over and they muttered dumbly to themself. “That’s why you kept mentioning the whole-hand thing…”

I was desperate to change the topic before they got iced in front of me. “I got zonked in the middle of the sidewalk. That’s what happened to me, kinda.” That got their attention back pretty quickly. “I uh… wound up in the stairwell. Fell. It was rough but Zora got me inside. They’ve been treating me with some potions and things and I’ll be ok, I’m just… real rough right now.”

Cal’s brow furrowed and for a second I thought they’d been able to tell I wasn’t being totally honest. “Potions?” They asked bluntly, shaking their head before I could really take any relief from that change of topic. “Doesn’t matter. How long ago did this all happen?”

“Uhhhm…” I had no idea what time it still was. “Sometime before noon?”

“Where’s your car?”

“In the work garage…”

Cal let out an explosive breath that startled the shit out of me before I realized they were relieved. “Oh thank god, I don’t gotta feed a meter.” They whipped out their phone and started to type rapidly, my arm reaching out quickly like I was somehow gonna be able to do something— anything— to stop it. “We gotta get you home, the gang’s been losin’ it.”

“Don’t—!” Cal’s thumbs came to a halt so fast I thought I heard the sounds of tires screeching as they blinked at me. “Don’t tell them where I am, or anything. Just tell them you found me with friends.”

It was the best I could think of to try and stave off a massive party of screaming people storming into this bar and causing even more issue with these folks who had been kind enough to peel my corpse off the ground and bring me back to life. People who could actually help me and not just say they would. Cal stared at me and took a slow look around between everyone awkwardly. “Yeah, I mean… yeah, ok.”

Their eyes dropped back down to me, but moved to give Zora’s hand a long look before they went back to typing. I could tell Zora was still upset, her fingers were pretty tense and her breathing was like listening to an animal from here. “Offer’s still on the table,” she said to me, her voice a lot quieter. I appreciated that, even though I still wasn’t sure if I could take her up on it.

She still didn’t relax when suddenly Madge was approaching us with another glass of water for me in her fingers, still the calmest one here but the one I had a feeling I should be the most worried about.

“Would you like any of that medicine to take along with you? Just in case,” she asked as I took the water from her and started to guzzle it down. “You shouldn’t need more of the yellow stuff, but if you want a bit of the others for the pain, I can hook you up.”

“The blue stuff,” I managed, coming up for air and ignoring the concerned stares of Cal over their typing. “That’s wonderful, I’d love more of that if that would be ok. Especially because I don’t have to taste it.”

Madge smirked with a nod as she turned to get me the vial and another, smaller container to try and pour it into for me. “The red stuff… honestly I’ll take Tylenol or something when I’m home. It’s not the same but… it’s what we’ve got.”

“Crew’s, uh—“ Cal’s voice came quietly and I turned to see them glancing up at everyone in the room before they flashed me an uncomfortable grimace. “…glad you’re alive.”

I made the same face back. “Great,” I said as convincingly as I could manage, which I’ll admit wasn’t spectacular. Cal was trying to dodge getting more yelled-at by not telling me they were pissed, is my guess. “What uh… what did you tell them?”

“You’re with some friends. That you’re hurt.”

I stared and waited for more, which Cal seemed unwilling to give me until I gestured vaguely at the entirety of me. I needed to know if they had told the gang I was zonked or not. Cal groaned uncomfortably.

“Gem asked but I haven’t responded.”

I squirmed at the idea that I might leave here and wind up in a hand so much unlike Zora’s. I honestly tried not to think about it— how this hand could be just as bad as Gem’s with so little effort— and my stomach was starting to churn again. “Yeah, please just… hold off on that… at least for now.”

“She’s worried…” Cal drawled, whining.

“Please.” I said it more firmly this time, staring at them. “Don’t.”

With Gem fresh on my mind, I latched onto the only thing I could think of that might save me if I really started to panic. My head tipped back and bumped into Zora’s hand, getting her attention on me. “I uh…” I started awkwardly, really hoping she was going to follow along. “I know we had plans for today but uh… give me a minute to make sure I’m still good for them?”

It was instant. This girl was on the ball, and I couldn’t be more appreciative for it. “There’s no pressure in the slightest,” she said gently, “but know you have somewhere.” She smiled at me and I honestly believed for a second that this cool woman actually had plans with me. That she had actually wanted to make plans with me. I put my hand on the tip of one of her fingers, it just felt like the right thing to do.

“Thanks. I mean…” I figured I’d try to set up as much as I possibly could before leaving here, so I could at least look forward to getting more information that I needed. “We can always raincheck it. Loads of time to uh— go for coffee and food and stuff some other day.”

“Anytime, really,” she said back, her hand relaxing a little more around me. “I make my own schedule, so just shoot me a text and we’ll make it happen.”

When I looked back at Cal I saw them glancing between me and Zora with a weird face, but if there was anything worth talking about they seemed willing to wait. “Is it uh…” they drawled, looking around the room. “Is it cool if I pull up a stool, or something?”

Madge turned to look Cal over up and down a few times with a hard stare, pausing in her search for something to put blue goo in for me.

“We’re not open,” she said simply.

Cal jammed their hands in their pockets, something they always did to try and make them look less nervous, but they always just wound up looking more awkward. I felt a little bad for them. They went back to looking at their phone as I found new appreciation for how warm Zora’s hand was.

“Gem’s uh…” they started awkwardly after a second. “She’s pretty insistent that I answer her…”

“She can wait,” Arthur’s voice cut bluntly from the back.

I shivered a little as I shook my head. “Keep her on read for a—“

Wait. I knew that shiver.

“Oh, shit— sorry, sorry—“ I stammered out as I pushed out of Zora’s hand stiffly, swooping down with some pained grunts while grabbing my coat and putting the empty water glass down on the sweater. “I’m gonna bamf, hang on—“ I tried to explain as the air started to fill with concerned noises and Zora’s hand seemed to freeze in mid-air in concern.

I basically had to fall into a sitting position, and it was just barely on time as my legs suddenly shout out straight over the edge of the bar and I had the momentary dizziness I always do. My eyes closed tight while I waited for the ringing to leave my ears, reaching in to deactivate the amplifying spell before muttering probably a thousand quick sorries and sliding off the bar.

I would’ve probably expected and not felt so bad about Madge and Zora staring at me and assuming it was just because they hadn’t seen Full-Sized Me before, if it weren’t for Cal also staring at me, all three of them with wildly different expressions. My eyes dropped to my shoes as I hugged my jacket to me. Pretty sure I looked like I lost a cage-match against Ronda Rousey.

“…….Oh.” Zora’s voice came eventually and I looked back up at her awkwardly. Her eyes were wide. The first thing that struck me was just how god damn cool and pretty she was at normal size. It had been obvious from zonk-land, but it’s just… different when you’re all the same size again. We stared at each other a second before she spoke again. “…Hello.”

I shifted my weight awkwardly on my legs. I was about to say hello back when her hands landed on me, having jumped up from her stool. “Oh, geez,” she muttered, suddenly focused on me and trying to help me stand properly. “Are you alright? You got this?”

“I’m good, yeah… just… y’know,” I muttered with a chuckle as I let her help me for a second, even if it was kind of embarrassing, “a little bit damaged.”

Zora seemed to find it awkward and embarrassing too, taking her hands away as soon as I was on my feet kind of properly again and looking away quickly. She smiled, though, and that made me feel less bad. “Heh… just a little bit damaged. It looked dramatic already but… woof.” She winced as she looked me over again. “You’ll feel better after a bath, I’ll bet.”

I muttered awkwardly, leaning a bit closer to her to make sure she could hear. “Uhhh… baths are dangerous, for me. More dangerous than I thought, apparently. At least before today.” She flinched a little and gave me a small nod and smile of understanding.

Cal was next to us suddenly, rushing over after they had stopped staring. “Jesus Daph,” they breathed. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

My heart entered my throat so fast I couldn’t get out any words about how terrifying I found the idea that I might go to a hospital and then suddenly zonk. “No, no—“ I stammered, shaking my head. “It’s just bruising and stuff. If it’s bad or anything tomorrow, or I notice anything worse… I’ll call my doctor or something.”

Cal stared at me, their mouth opening to argue.

“I promise, Cal,” I said, staring right back at them. “I will.”

They backed down a bit. “Alright, but…” their eyes swept with a whole head movement this time as they looked me over again. “Shit. Looks like you got shook up for a round of yahtzee.”

My stomach flipped at the size-joke, even though Cal obviously hadn’t meant it for a laugh. Honestly, that just made me a bit more uncomfortable— they just thought of that size as normal enough to talk about like that. Ugh. I looked myself over again, wondering if anything would’ve changed between being small and being tall. “It… it really does seem like it’s just bruising but…”

My eyes moved back to Zora with a sad smile. “I… I should probably head home to rest. I’ll, uh… I’ll hit you up as soon as I’m on my computer again and we can rebook? For coffee and lunch or something?”

She flashed a sad smile back at me, her eyes shining. God, she was gorgeous. I can’t believe I bothered her so much today with my dumb mistakes. “Please do,” she said. “No rush, no pressure, but I’ll definitely keep an eye out for it.” I grinned, she was really, really good at this. “I’d… I would definitely love to chat more.” She honestly made me believe it. This woman really wanted to help me out, for real. This was enough to make my heart pound against my chest— finally, answers.

Before I could launch into solidifying plans here and now for a coffee date, just to make sure this opportunity at curse-breaking didn’t slip through my fingers, Madge was next to me carefully putting the whole blue-goo vial in my hand. It had a beautiful, chilly feeling to it. “Take the whole thing,” she said warmly. I really liked Madge. “It’s just a hop and a skip for us to get more.”

“Thanks so much, Madge,” I said, literally feeling like things might be about to get better— really get better— in my life. “I’ll pay it off with a drink tab and some point, I hope.”

Madge took my hand in hers and patted it gently, like my Great Aunt used to. “You are absolutely invited to do just that. Pleasure to meet you today, even under rough circumstances.”

The idea of being able to come to a place outside of my house… outside Gem’s house… where I could be normal, even just a little bit, and even if I was zonked was… god I don’t know if they made words strong enough for it. Liberating seemed too shallow.

Then, slowly, Cal’s arm slid around my shoulder. Very slowly, and carefully. I don’t know if that was because I was hurt, or because they didn’t want to get torn apart by Zora and Arthur and probably Madge. “C’mon,” they said quickly. “Think you’re good to drive or should I get Mak to pick us up?”

My heart sank immediately. I didn’t want to see any of them. God, it was going to be an actual disaster. But I also, honestly, couldn’t trust myself to drive. “Uhhh… yeah. Pick-up is the smart idea.” I turned to Cal with the sharpest look I could manage. “Tell Gem I’m regular sized, by the way. Just… just that.”

Cal gave me a hesitant nod. “Ok. I will. If you’re sure.”

“Very sure.”

Cal started to lead me out of the bar, and I smiled and waved as cheerfully as I could manage to fake it to the three of them as we headed for the exit. My eyes landed on Arthur and I almost jerked to a halt to talk to him. “Arthur!”

He perked up and turned in our direction. I didn’t quite know how to read him, still, even at regular-size. I didn’t know the best way to say thanks.

“…Keep set 3 clean for me.” Seemed good enough. “You make good potion-cover.”

A tiny smile crossed his features with a quick nod. “Of course. Zora will give you the password.”

“I will,” Zora added with enthusiastic nodding. “Don’t worry.” She gave me a little wave goodbye. “Let me know you’re alright. Talk to you soon.”

I felt myself blush a little. I get to learn a secret password to a magic bar, and Zora actually wanted to talk to me more. “Talk to you soon,” I said back, waving as Cal helped me through the door and toward the stairs.

Now it was just a matter of getting home.

------

[neowinestainedress]

anons didn’t understand why i hate jeno so i will explain… HE’S TOO PERFECT AND SWEET so i convinced myself that jeno from traitor is the same as rose colored glassed (i’m a mastermind ik)

but jokes aside i think i told you before of how much this saga is almost the same as my story so even tho jeno is perfect i can’t picture him with mc cause i associate him with my friend irl (since 95% of what you wrote happened to me) + haechan redeeming himself would be what i really wanted to happen to me lol

ALSO a girl posted a tiktok talking about traitor and it had 2500+ likes and people were saying it’s so good and idk it made me so proud cause you really deserve the hype and recognition. i really mean it when i say you’re such an amazing writer<3 (if you want to watch it the user was @/stoobfoobnoob)

ps: i’ve been screaming and crying cause midnights was so good and i could relate to the lyrics so much so i was wondering which one was your favorite song?? mine is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve (i listen to it for HOURS everyday since midnights came out) but i also really like maroon, you’re on your own, kid and the great war

+ in the previous ask i forgot to put the 💌 it was mee!!

here's the explanation to all the other outraged anons lol

you convincing yourself jeno is the same as rose colored glasses still makes me laugh so much, yes, you ARE the mastermind

yeah and i totally get you. i also think it's natural to still hope haechan will change for the better and end up with the mc, after all, it's centred on them and jeno only appeared for a little in the second story. just like it's okay to see the other side of the medal and think that she deserves someone like jeno. after all, everyone sees their personal experiences in stories so it's normal to want different things. i just hope whatever will happen will make sense and that i won't get tomatoes virtually thrown at me lmao (i fear the worst ngl)

I JUST SAW IT AND OMG???? i went on tiktok with shaky hands expecting the worst but the comments are so nice i — you have no idea how happy this made me. but you know what's the funny thing? i was really insecure about it and i can't believe so many people love this series so much and it became so popular. i'm so grateful for all the support, i love you all so much 😭

i can't believe people were/are talking shit about the album, i was expecting her worst work and i love it??? also we have the same favorite songs??? like i don't feel like i can actually pick my favorite because i keep obsessing with different ones each day but the ones you listed are the ones i love the most (with the special mention of midnight rain). a knife in the chest would hurt less than could've, would've, should've and you're on your own, kid. also every time i listen to bejeweled i think of traitor's mc, i really think that's her song, especially after enough for you

[crimswnred]

Alright I’ve listened to the album a few times now and I’m absolutely obsessed and I loooooove it. Ranking it was so hard! I didn’t really dislike any song so even the low ranks I still love????

Also, I did rate the vault tracks bc I’m never not going to listen to the 3 am version lmao and I also always love the vault tracks so much.

So here is my rating on release day! (which lets be honest, will probably change after I’ve listened to it for a few hundred hours lmao)

1. Bigger than the whole sky

2. You’re on your own kid

3. Midnight rain

4. Lavender haze

5. Sweet nothing

6. Anti-hero

7. Glitch

8. High infidelity

9. Dear reader

10. Vigilante shit

11. The Great War

12. Labyrinth

13. Would’ve could’ve should’ve

14. Snow on the beach

15. Maroon

16. Karma

17. Mastermind

18. Paris

19. Question…?

20. Bejweled

Aaaaaah! Do you have a favourite lyrics? I hope there’s some Borbie inspo in there somewhere for you :)

I kinda can’t believe it’s here now. The waiting and anticipation was so much fun I’m actually a bit sad it’s over now. But thankfully we still have soooo much content to look forward to! I really hope Taylor brings out another documentary someday! What’s something you really want her to do?

I’m also already kinda dreading tour announcements bc I obviously want to go see her but I also dont want to go alone and it’s gonna be expensive and with Covid still.. (I live with someone immunocompromised and have asthma myself so still have to be careful) but not going sounds shit and I would have the biggest FOMO. aaaaaaaaaah!!!

And I hope things feel better for you soon 💕 life gets so overwhelming sometimes but hey, we got this. Somehow, things will be okay. Just gotta always believe that. And sometimes we have to cry a bit and feel our feelings so they can pass. Just make sure to take care of yourself.

And you said you got 2 cats right?? What are their names? If you want to share of course :) give them a nice cuddle, there’s nothing better than kitty cuddles!🐱

omg sorry for taking so long :( but I finally got some time to answer (it's currently 1am so forgive any typo)

yeah, for sure!!! I love the whole album, even the ones I ranked lower. for me it's her best pop album to date, she did SOMETHING! and I'm so glad we are having visuals this era!!!! I missed it sm

I would love to see a documentary like LPSS! it was so interesting hearing about it and I love the "live" versions but I'm just so so so happy with all we got already!!! and the visuals?? impeccable

this is such a good idea too! I'd love to hear her. maybe she can get a space somewhere and just record a few episodes? I don't know... I just would love to hear her opinion about random things like books or movies hahaha

awww I hope you can make it to the tour!! I'll be doing my best to get tickets for sureee, especially because she's coming here after a long time (can you believe the last time she came her was during Red era??)

favourite lyrics? hmm, I think You're On Your Own Kid. really resonated with me and how I see things/life. Would've, Could've, Should've hits HARD too!!

I actually liked Paris so much HAHAHA I haven't heard the deluxe yet when I answered you, I think?!

about Borbie, yeah! some songs reminds me of them but I'm not coming on them (cus spoilers) except for Lavender Haze, which is exceptional. Plus, Bejeweled and High Infidelity are so Barbie...

thank you for the lovely words! you're right, life ain't always easy but that's the ups and downs of being an adult, right?!

and yes, I got TWO CATS! their names are Hakan and Mustafa — the previous owner gave them those names, I don't much about it unfortunately.

here they are on my bed hahaha 💞

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

I listened to TTPD all the way through on a long drive today (probably my 4th time) and I have a lot of thoughts about privacy and photography and safety. Not sure how to approach that topic on tumblr, if at all. But all of that to say, I feel a little bit ill thinking about the remaining vaults 🥴

[suchananewsblog]

Taylor Swift, Aaron Dessner Debut 'Would've, Could've, Should've' in a Downpour

During her delayed, rain-soaked present in Nashville final evening, Taylor Swift handled followers to a tour debut of Midnights‘ “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” that includes a particular cameo from co-writer and co-producer Aaron Dessner.  Swift’s closing present in Nashville was pushed again a number of hours on account of lightning close by; the live performance didn’t really begin till…

[cyarskj1899]

Jake Gyllenhaal And John Mayer If I were you, I would log off of all my social media platforms and step away from the internet for the next week or better yet the rest of the year

Taylor Swift Seemingly Expressed “Regret” At Dating Older Men — AKA Jake Gyllenhaal And John Mayer — When She Was As Young As 19 In Heartbreaking New Lyrics

“I damn sure would've never danced with the devil at 19... Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.”

Leyla MohammedPosted 4 hours ago

If you’ve been on the internet at all today, you’ve likely seen that Taylor Swift has officially released her 10th studio album, Midnights.

View this photo on Instagram

The album is, by Taylor’s own admission, a “wild ride” of “highs and lows and ebbs and flows” — and things were only made more chaotic with the subsequent release of Midnights (3am Edition),an additional album containing 7 extra songs, which dropped just 3 hours after Midnights did.

View this photo on Instagram

Between all 20 songs in total, Taylor most certainly upholds her ~reputation~ of nodding toward other celebrities in her lyrics, with Midnights seemingly charting several past breakups, feuds, and so much more.

One track in particular that has garnered huge attention online is “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” which is on Midnights (3am Edition).

Given that the song is explicitly about “regret,” and that Taylor makes several references toward age-gaps in relationships throughout, fans have theorized that “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” is a reflection on the older men that she dated in the past.

For a bit of background, Taylor infamously dated John Mayer back when she was 19, and he was 32. Less than a year after reports claimed that they’d split, Taylor all but confirmed the breakup with the release of a very pointed song on her 2010 album, Speak Now.

Aside from literally titling the track “Dear John,” Taylor sang the lyrics: “Don't you think nineteen is too young / To be played by your dark twisted games, when I loved you so? / I should've known.”

John has long faced scrutiny for the 13-year age gap between himself and Taylor. He was even questioned about her lyric, “Don’t you think I was too young to be messed with?” during a past interview, though quickly shut the subject down, saying he didn’t “want to go into that.”

Shortly after John, Taylor was romantically linked to actor Jake Gyllenhaal, when she was 20 and he was 29. According to reports, their relationship ended after a brief few months, with a source telling Us Weekly at the time that Jake “wasn't feeling it anymore.”

Taylor’s famous song “All Too Well” — which was originally released the year after her apparent split from Jake — seemingly charts their rocky past relationship, with a notable reference toward a stark age difference between two lovers. “You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine / And that made me want to die,” she sings in the full 10 minute version, released last year.

So, with all this in mind, let’s delve into the lyrics on “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” — which fans are calling “the darkest song Taylor has ever written.”

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve is the darkest song Taylor has ever written. I’m literally nauseous, it was grooming point blank. And Taylor called him out on it07:35 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @TheBookofTaylor

From the very first verse, Taylor immediately references a “grown man” who she was once romantically involved with, while she was, in her own words, “a child.” She sings, “If you tasted poison you could've spit me out at the first chance / And if I was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? / And if I was a child did it matter if you got to wash your hands?”

In light of everything we’ve discussed about Taylor’s past relationships, fans were quickly left wondering whether these lyrics were perhaps in reference to John or Jake.

not now babe I’m trying to figure out if Taylor wrote would’ve, could’ve, should’ve about Jake or John https://t.co/sNjoKY5aB608:40 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @EnceeteeEnjoyer

Some people were initially swayed by the idea that Jake is the subject of the track, suggesting that Taylor was later singing about regretting the fact that he was the first person she had sex with — a long-swirling rumor that has never officially been confirmed.

Twitter: @puredelicate

Just last month, in fact, Taylor all but confirmed a years-long theory that the “scarf” she mentions in “All Too Well” — which she says she left at her lover’s sister’s house — was a metaphor for the fact she hadn't had sex. Several fans took this into account when decoding the lyrics on “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve.”

Taylor sings: “If you never touched me, I would've gone along with the righteous / If I never blushed, then they could've never whispered about this.”

“And if you never saved me from boredom, I could've gone on as I was / But lord you made me feel important, and then you tried to erase us,” she goes on.

One fan theorized, “idk maybe should’ve could’ve would’ve is about jake purely based on Taylor confirming the scarf metaphor at the film festival and like the metaphor was a nice was for her to explain but now she’s like ‘real shit: that sucked.’”

idk maybe should’ve could’ve would’ve is about jake purely based on Taylor confirming the scarf metaphor at the film festival and like the metaphor was a nice was for her to explain but now she’s like “real shit: that sucked”08:08 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @darkbluetenn

However, given that Taylor goes on to specifically mention the age she was when she dated the mysterious “grown man” in question, it seems more plausible that she’s perhaps referring to John rather than Jake.

As mentioned, Taylor was 19 when she dated John, then-32. On the Midnights track, she sings: “I damn sure would've never danced with the devil at 19.”

As one Twitter user summarized, “Taylor and Jake did not even meet and start dating til the Fall of 2010 when Taylor was months away from her 21st birthday (even referred to it in ATW).” As we know, things with Taylor are never just coincidental, and it seems interesting that she mentioned the specific age of “19” in this song.

@justincferrell Did you even listen to the chorus?"And I'm damned sure I never would've danced with the devil at 19"---Taylor did not even meet Jake Gyllenhaal til the fall of 2010 months before her 21st birthday.When she was 19 she was dating John Mayer.08:33 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @JFrhink

“God rest my soul / I miss who I used to be... I regret you all the time / I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep,” she continues. “The wound won't close / I keep on waiting for a sign / I regret you all the time.”

And, perhaps most poignantly, Taylor then pleas for her “girlhood” back — a lyric that left fans devastated. “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” she sings.

“no but ‘give me back my girlhood, it was mine first’ is one of the saddest lyrics taylor swift has ever written :(” one person tweeted.

no but “give me me back my girlhood, it was mine first” is one of the saddest lyrics taylor swift has ever written :(08:01 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @repiatation13

“‘give me back my girlhood it was my first’ is the most heartbreaking taylor swift lyric i’ve ever heard,” echoed another.

“give me back my girlhood it was my first” is the most heartbreaking taylor swift lyric i’ve ever heard07:30 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @sainthoodswift

What’s more, as “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” comes to an end, the next song on the tracklist is, perhaps conveniently, a track called “Dear Reader,” which several fans immediately tied to her aforementioned breakup hit, “Dear John.”

“putting a song called ‘DEAR reader’ after a song that absolutely annihilated mr. dear john was so intentional,” one person suggested, while others highlighted the “parallels” between both titles. In fact, some people went so far as to label “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” the darker version of “Dear John,” or “Dear John 2.0.”

putting a song called “DEAR reader” after a song that absolutely annihilated mr. dear john was so intentional #TSmidnighTS07:41 AM - 21 Oct 2022Twitter: @ellaalmighty_

All in all, fans are heartbroken for Taylor after listening to her apparent regret at the past relationship, suggesting that she’d been calling the subject in question out for “grooming” her. You can listen to “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” and the whole of Midnights, here.

Your weekday morning guide to breaking news, cultural analysis, and everything in between

[ms-rampage]

New Dawn: New Horizons Chapter 3 - With A Little Help From The Devil

Warnings: Language, and slight angst.

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Lucifer confronts Gabriel seeking his help to find the other angels that were cast out of Heaven.

Guest OCs: The usuals

Guest Characters: Lucifer (Supernatural), John and Jacob Seed (mentioned), Wheaty (mentioned).

Written by @athenalillystar and myself. Hope ya'll enjoy!! 💗💗

Taglist: @wargames94 @rabbitsoldier @vicki-the-sinner @mrsladydiana

Note: This is a Far Cry New Dawn and Supernatural crossover with my OCs

*********

Lucifer has his hand over Cristina’s mouth to muffle her screams, stopping her from alerting the family. 

He clicks his tongue a few times, and says. “I thought we came to an understanding. I told you, you’ll see me again. Guess I should’ve been more specific”.

“What do you want?!” she asks, her voice muffled by his hand. 

“You promise not to scream?” he asks, his voice deepens, almost in a whisper.

She nods her head in response. He moves his hand away from her mouth. 

“What do I want?!” he asks, his index finger on his chin, walking towards her bedroom window. 

“Well first off, I would like to know what is so special about your cousin?!. The small one with the cotton candy hair”.

“Daenerys?” she asks, in slight confusion. 

“Yeah, for some reason she happens to be the most important thing in the world to Gabriel” he says, bitterness in his voice. 

“That’s his daughter, that's why she’s so important to him” she responds, in a somewhat sarcastic tone. 

He chuckles, “Ehh not quiet”.

She looks at him in confusion, furrowed her eyebrows at him. “What is that supposed to mean?!” she asks, getting slightly irritated. 

“Well you see. Gabriel is no-”.

He gets cut off when her bedroom door opens, and Gabriel appears in the doorway. 

“Uncle Gabe I-” she says before getting cut off, and going unconscious by Lucifer snapping his fingers. 

Gabriel steps into the room, closing the door behind him, “I told you to leave them alone” he tells him, his voice deep, and angry. 

Lucifer shrugs, “You know I never listen”.

“What do you want?!” he asks.

“You know what I want” Lucifer tells him, “I want you to come with me, and we can find all the others that fell.”

“But why do you care if the others fell?. No one did when you fell” Gabe asks.

Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know. That’s why I want to rub it in dad’s face when we confront him”.

“Do you even know where the others fell??!” he asks, crossing his arms.

“Samandriel, Uriel, Castiel, Michael, Gadreel, Raphael and you are the only ones that I know of that fell. I'm not sure where, but they're most likely scattered".

Gabriel goes silent for a moment, looking down at the floor.

“Okay. I’ll go with you” he says. 

A smile appears on Lucifer’s face, “Good, we should get-”. He gets cut off by his younger brother “But, it’ll have to wait until the morning”.

Lucifer rolls eyes, throwing his head back in annoyance, “Are you serious?!”. 

He nods his head, “Yes, I want to give them an explanation. I’ll tell Daenerys that I’m gonna go help out some survivors with the Highwaymen, or something like that”.

Lucifer shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, and says.

“So you’re gonna keep lying to your “daughter” huh?!”.

Gabriel sighs, “As much as I don’t want to. I have to. How long will this search be?”.

“A week, maybe 2. See you tomorrow little bro”. 

Lucifer disappears from the room, and Cristina is still unconscious.

With the very little powers he has, Gabriel wipes her memory from the last 2-5 minutes.

He goes back to his and Kate’s room, laying next to her in bed. 

********

The next morning at around 7:30am, Gabriel is packing some of his gear that he’ll most likely not need, but has to make it look like he’s going out on a week-long hunting trip, or at least a few days. 

“So how long are you gonna be gone?!” Daenerys asks, sitting at the kitchen table, looking up at him.

He sighs, “A week. Maybe 2. Depending on how long they're gonna need me”.

Kate leans against the doorway of the kitchen, who knows the real reason why he’s leaving.

“So who is that you’re gonna be searching for?!” she asks, playing along with this situation. 

He looks up at her, “It’s a group of hunters that were ambushed by the Highwaymen. Mickey and Lou wanted them captured, and they escaped. Fled into the nearby forests, not far from the radiation zone in the Henbane”. 

He finishes packing up, and he heads outside to his truck.

All of the adults Paige, Kenneth, Mandy, Barbara, Adrian, Mark, Nate, Cody, and Martin all know the real reason why Gabriel is leaving. Trying to keep the kids from knowing the real truth. To help out Lucifer and find the angels that were cast out of Heaven, and were now wandering the Earth, either human, or half human, with little to no powers, or angelic grace. 

The kids don’t know the real reason why he’s leaving. He hugs every single one of them, he holds Kate and Daenerys longer, placing a kiss on Daenerys head. 

“Please come back whole” she says, hugging him tighter. 

He laughs softly, “I will”. Placing another kiss on her head.

He kisses Kate goodbye, gets into a truck, and leaves the property. Meeting Lucifer at the meeting point. 

They all go inside, back to what they were doing, letting Gabe go to find these “hunters”. 

*******

After a half an hour drive later, Gabriel arrives at the meeting point Lucifer had sent him via angel radio. Surprised he was able to get through, even with the very little powers he has. 

A few miles away from the radiation zone of what was once the Henbane River.

“Great. You showed up!” Lucifer says, enthusiastically. 

“Okay. So where are we going?!” Gabriel asks. 

“That way” Lucifer says, pointing into the direction of the radiated part of the Henbane. 

“Into the radiation zone?!?” he asks, eyes wide. Not sure if he’ll actually survive going into that death zone, even with the amount of powers he has. He’s pretty much a human at this point. 

“Yeah. So lets goooo” he says singfully. Walking towards the dead zone.

“I don't even know if I can go through there!” the half angel protests.

Lucifer stops walking, “You’ll be fine. I went through there, and I’m still alive”.

Gabe rolls his eyes, groaning “Yeah because you still have your powers. I don’t. I barely have my powers”.

Lucifer groans back, “Okay. You’ll be fine. Raphael, Uriel, Gadreel and all the others are there, and they most likely don’t have any of their powers. They’re basically human with very little angel powers. So let's go!!” he says singfully again, and walks towards the radiated part of Hope County. 

The youngest Archangel groans, and follows his older brother into the radiation zone. As much as he doesn’t want to, he still does. 

****

Back in Holland Valley, everyone is working, doing their own thing around the compound. 

Jeffrey and Thomas are helping the guys, and a few others put up guard towers around the wall. 

The whole thing is basically a second Prosperity. Open to those seeking shelter from the Highwaymen. 

Paige, Kate and their mother Mandy are supplying guns to some of the residents and all those living on the compound. The three teenage girls are putting up cameras, and motion sensor spotlights with the help of a few others from Prosperity. Even from 40 feet away, and with her back to her. Kate can detect that Daenerys is worried about her father. 

“I can tell she’s worried” Kate mutters to her mother and sister. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Paige responds. Kate looks over at her, and nods her head. 

Paige sighs softly, “I get that you never really got to know dad, but still. I still worried whenever he left. I was just a child. I was afraid of everything”.

Sighing, “Yeah, I know but this is different. I just don’t want her, or anyone to know that we have an Archangel living with us” Kate tells her. 

Mandy doesn’t speak up in this conversation, or put in her two cents, she just listens in on their conversation. 

“Or that you’re married to an Archangel” Paige adds, “What about John?!”. 

Kate scoffs in annoyance, “What about him? He's dead”. She never thought about John Seed in several years, she kept his name and the thought of his existence out of her mind. 

“Yeah, I know. You and Wheaty killed him, or maybe it was Nick Rye. I don't know, I was too busy killing Jacob Seed” Paige tells her. 

“Yeah” Kate whispers remembering all the great times she had with Wheaty, “I don’t want her to know about John. Bad enough she has his eyes. It's a constant reminder that she’s his kid”.

“She also has his small hands. Have you noticed that?!” Paige tells her, while doing jazz hands like movement with her hands. 

Kate laughs softly, and says “Yeah. I could’ve saved him”. Paige looks over at her, “Who?. John?”. 

She scoffs, and shakes her head, “No Wheaty. I could’ve saved him. I’d rather have him be Daenerys’ father than John. I can’t imagine how she would’ve turned out if John were to live. A sadistic little shit. Yelling out “Say yes!. The Power of Yes!. Confess your sins sinners!”.

Paige laughs at this, “I would’ve had Cristina, or Bianca beat her up”.

Kate takes a deep breath, trying to hold back her tears, “I could’ve saved him, I could've gone back, and got him. I still think about it every night” she tells her, voice trembling, "I miss that Native guy so much". Light tears start to run down her cheeks. 

Trying to reassure her younger sister, “You gotta stop beating yourself up about that. I understand you, and Wheaty had something special. I definitely prefer you and him, over you and John, but I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to move on. I know if I would've let you gone back, and get him. You would've died as well". 

Kate nods, agreeing with her “Yeah I know, I know. I thought I would’ve ended up being a single parent. I still remember the day after we killed John and Jacob. Wheaty said to me that he wouldn’t mind being a stepfather to our child, then hopefully had kids of our own".

She stops for a moment, and Paige continues to reassure her sister.

"We lost a lot of people that day. A lot of friends Eli, Tammy, Wheaty, Jess, Mary, Pratt, Hudson and Whitehorse. Do you know if Morgan, Ryan, Sarah and all the others made it? ". 

Kate nods, and continues, "Yeah, we did but then Gabriel came into the picture. Him, and I grew closer, he helped me raise Daenerys, he took care of me throughout my pregnancy. I know he’s not used to the human lifestyle, and it was all new to him. But he adjusted very well, and I’m glad he’s here. I don’t know if they made it, I haven’t seen, or heard from them, but I’m sure they’re all dead”.

********

Lucifer and Gabriel walk through the Henbane River, and to Gabriel’s surprise he’s not coughing up his lungs, and dropping dead. 

“Eessh this is depressing” Lucifer mumbles, clenching his teeth.

“How much further?!” Gabriel asks, getting tired of walking. Lucifer looks around the dry, dead and gray scenery “It’s not far”. He’s not even sure if they’re going the right way, it’s all a dead zone. 

"What are we even looking for?!. How are we even gonna find the others?!" he asks. 

"Static. From angel radio" he mumbles, still unsure where to go. 

They continue walking through the radiation zone. After a few minutes Lucifer senses something, he stops dead in his tracks as does Gabe.

“What is it?!” he asks. He shushes him, and listens closely. “This way!" he tells him. 

He follows him further into the dead region. 

“What is it?!?” Gabriel asks, annoyed that his brother isn't answering him. 

“It’s one of them” he answers. “Raphael?!?” he adds before walking towards the sound that only he can hear. Gabriel follows behind him. 

******

Back at the compound, Cristina, Bianca and Daenerys are setting the motion sensor lights.

The youngest of the Winchester kids, Daenerys can’t concentrate due her father not being around. 

“He’ll be back Dae” Cristina comforts her younger cousin.

“Yeah I know. I just worry whenever he’s not here” she tells them, “Especially with those douchebags running around and capturing people”.  

“He’ll be back. He said he will, and he’s gone to help others several times before” Bianca tells her. 

She tries to keep her mind away from her dad, reassuring herself that he’ll be home within a week or 2, or even a couple of days. Cristina’s mind keeps wandering as well, remembering what her mom, and aunt had said to her the night before. 

She wants to tell Daenerys and Bianca but promised her mom and aunt that she wouldn't. 

Lucifer keeps coming to mind, and that scares her. She had a dream that he appeared in her room, and he was about to say something about her uncle Gabriel and Daenerys but was woken up by her alarm. 

After a couple of hours they finished setting up the lights and cameras.

The guard towers are all complete, the Winchester-Smith compound is complete. 

They have all of their workshops setup. The training yard, infirmary, cartography, garage and the garden are all set. 

Their bunker had been made into an infirmary, storage facility and an armory. As an underground shooting range. 

Later that night at dinner. Everyone that is living at the compound is seated at the main dining room in the main house.

Mark, Nate, their wives and kids. Martin, his wife, and kids. Adrian, his wife and kids. Cody and his wife. Kenny, Kate, Daenerys, Bianca, Jeffrey, Thomas, Barbara, Cristina, Mandy and Paige.

Paige stands up, clears her throat and gives a speech. 

“Okay, everyone if I can have your attention. First off I just wanna say thank you to all of you for your help. I know it’s been a huge adjustment. With the Highwaymen running around Hope County, it’s not really easy. We just need to stick together, and fight against them. I know Gabriel will be back within a week or two with those missing hunters maybe sooner, and we can recruit them to fight against the Twins and their followers. We have everything we need. We just have to keep on our feet. Watch over, and protect our home. Don’t let our guard down because we don’t know when they’ll strike. But if we fight, and push back, they’ll get the message that we’re not to be fucked with. So with that being said. Thank you, and I know we can win this fight”. 

Everyone applauds Paige’s speech, and they all eat their dinner. 

[narrie]

Negl I do wonder if Niall would've been nearly as open about HBW's inspiration if not for quarantine and him spending hours just talking to fans on IG live. Like watching a lot of those back now, he seems like he had so much restless energy from being stuck at home and having his entire album era derailed that without the almost guided interview questions where it's easy to give evasive answers, he just lost his filter when talking about the songs lol. Obv doesn't make it right at all and he should've been silent, but I've had that impression for a while that he went stir crazy and couldn't shut up. I feel like he's not gonna do the same if/when NH3 has songs about his current gf.

Harry's got no excuse except for being a messy bitch who loves drama because that was all scripted from the fucking jump. I'm almost surprised he wasn't like "and to the french watermelon that inspired me, this grammy is for u" in his speech.

tbh he should’ve thanked camille bc that’s her grammy after all. 

i get what u mean and i do think that contributed to it, like i can’t see him sharing all that in an interview for example. i rmr saying how that livestream where he talked about all the songs and gave the private background information™ felt SO weird and he seemed kinda out of it too, idk what exactly was going on and how we got to that point, but i literally compared it to a train wreck. idk for most of us i think those livestreams removed some boundaries and we felt like we were chatting to a friend and maybe he felt that too which broke the much needed fourth wall. anyway that could be an explanation but not an excuse, and there are still lyrics that could’ve been left out or changed.