#and because the lyrics are from the musical I’ll also tag it as | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

healmydesires · 11 months

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I wanna hear you say my name (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: Your shower is still broken and you’re on your period, leaving you a frustrated mess. Thankfully, Joel is here to help you out, in more ways than one.

word count: 5,1k

genre: fluff + smut (kinda filthy idk) (mdni 18+)

tags/warnings: pretty new relationship but the feelings are established, age gap (reader is in her late 20’s, joel is in his early 50’s), soft!joel, dom/sub dynamics, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, menstrual mentions, menstruation, period sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, shower sex, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, praise kink, lots of pet names… like an insane amount.

a/n: the title is inspired by the song touching by v. cartier. I reeeaaally recommend that song, it’s so good. I’m literally obsessed with his music. tbh all of my fic titles are lyrics from my fave songs. anyways!! this is direct part two of / same universe as “forever in your eyes”. obviously you can read it on its own but it has some details from the other fic. another self indulgent piece… always wanted to write about period sex 😭 anyways I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I hope you enjoy it <3

ao3

The soft knock on your door has you groaning, struggling to roll from the spot on your couch you’d occupied for most of the time since you’d arrived home from patrol. Your mood is heavy as you wonder who would have the audacity to disturb you while you are finally in a position you are comfortable in. You’re feeling quite literally exhausted and in so much pain. You feel like your uterus has been constantly kicked in. There’s nothing more frustrating than having your period. At least it feels like it’s the most frustrating thing in the world right now.

As you take a peek in the peephole of your door you see your grumpy but soft neighbour — that is also since recently your boyfriend, standing on your front porch. The man that you’ve been in love with for months.

“Joel!” You croon excitedly as you open your door for him. Without hesitation, your arms automatically wrap around his chest and your body flings itself into his as he steps into your home.

“Good evening to you too,” He chuckles warmly at your display of affection. He dotes a soft kiss against the crown of your head, his broad body enveloping you in a tight hug as he wraps his arms around you. “You’re so cuddly tonight.” He smiles down at you as he tries to release his strong hold on you to get a better look at you. A loud whiny, wordless protest leaves your lips as he tries to let you go, complaining as he shifts away from your tight hug.

“I’m sorry, it’s that time of the month.” You mumble before borrowing your head into his chest again. He hums as your arms grip against his waist, diving under the soft fabric of his flannel, refusing to let him budge an inch away from you. “Besides, what’s wrong with hugging the man I love?”

“Nothin’ wrong with it. Just an observation.” He chuckles as his hands come to cradle your head, then pressing soft kisses to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your tummy at his affection. Joel knows you well enough to know there’s more going on. “What’s wrong baby?”

“I hate that I can’t take a shower because the shower head is still broken and I feel dirty right now. I have been using my sister's bathroom for a week now and I hate that I always have to come disturb her.” You groan as you continue to hide your face in his chest, heat rising up in your face at your embarrassment.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He asks softly, as he shifts his body slightly from yours. Slowly you look up into his eyes as your bottom lip pouts outwards. He chuckles as he shakes his head amusedly at your expression. His palm comes to lace over the curve of your jaw, thumb rubbing over the pouty twist of your lips. “How about this? You come to my place, use my bathroom, maybe stay the night and I’ll come fix your shower tomorrow? That way you’ll feel a bit better tonight.”

“Okay, I’d love that.” You nod slowly as you bite your bottom lip with a shy smile, loosening your grip on his body. “I do need to get some stuff first though.”

“Alright darlin’, go get everything you need. I’ll be here waiting for you.” He winks at you, making you heat up with warmth before you sprint upstairs.

—-

His arms are cradling you softly, your back pressing into him and your head falling lovingly against his chest as you’re being held in his bed. His hands shift to the front of your stomach, palm expanding to rub lovingly over your belly in an attempt to soothe your pain. Just having him with you is somehow easing the grumpiness you’d been feeling all day. The warmth and tenderness of his embrace makes you feel a lot more relaxed.

“Thank you… I’m happy that I’m here.” You advise with a timid smile as you move your head to look at him, letting him know how truly joyful you felt when he came to check up on you. “I am grateful to have you.”

“Anythin’ for my sweet girl.” He whispers before he presses soft kisses to your temple. His head tilts lower, the curve of his lips coming to rest against your ear. “I’d do anything for ya.”

His fingers slip lower, caressing your pelvis, his touch becoming a bit more intimate. Your cheeks heat up at the action, leaving you a bit flustered at his touch. Despite everything, despite the fact that you wanted to cuddle a bit before heading in the shower, the hormones are acting up. His touch feels heavenly to you.

Your hands move to grip his, interlacing your fingers together, squeezing them.

“Joel… we can’t.” You whisper, your breath hitching. You slowly turn around in his hold, looking at him bashfully. “I mean… I do want to. I just. It’s like there’s a crime scene between my legs.”

“Hmm… doesn’t mean much to me.” He mumbles before his lips move to your jaw, nipping and kissing at the skin. A whine leaves your lips as he litters your skin with his affection. “Besides, I once read somewhere that period sex often relieves the pain.”

“Really?” You whisper under your breath. You feel your body flush at the implication of his words. His hands move back towards your tummy, his thick fingers trace lightly against the hem of your jogger shorts once more. Your hips rise as a little whimper leaves your lips. Soothingly he massages your pelvis, providing you a lot of warmth and comfort.

“Really.” He murmurs as his lips move against your neck, kissing the delicate skin.

“B-but it’s gross, and it’s all bloody and—” you say, stuttering over your words as he sucks a mark onto your neck, trying to tell him that it might not be an enjoyable experience for him.

“Baby, I ain’t afraid of a little blood.” He groans as he moves his head slightly away from yours, looking into your eyes directly. “Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

“You don’t think it’s gross?” You whisper timidly, you bite your bottom lip as you look at him.

He shrugs with a smile. “Why would I think it’s gross?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean it’s bloody so…”

“It’s not gross to me at all, I promise.” He smiles reassuringly before leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. As you’re both kissing languidly, his hands are still busy tracing your lower tummy, eventually slipping underneath the band of your sweat shorts. His lips make their way down to your ear, nipping at your earlobe as you whine against him. Automatically you feel your body relax, slumping against his bed as you allow him a lot more access to the flesh of your neck. He responds by drawing his lips slowly down the expanse of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

The things you’d let him do to you.

“Joel,” The hitch in your breath has him chuckling, the rumble of his voice transcending through your skin.

“What?” He whispers, his words so quiet you barely hear them against the pulse of your neck. Joel could read your body like no one else — could push exactly what buttons he needed to create the reactions that he wanted from you. Your relationship is still quite new, yet he knows you so well. He waits patiently as you try to find ways to tell him what you need, his lips skimming lower towards your collarbone as his fingers caress your pelvis over your underwear.

“S-shower, please.” You finally give in with a whine, kind of admitting to him that you want this.

“Anythin’ for my baby girl.” He whispers as he kisses the soft skin of your neck. Slowly both of you move off the bed, his tall and broad frame is close to you, as he guides you towards his adjacent bathroom.

You almost trip over the doorway, a giggle leaving your lips as Joel’s arms come to wrap around you. “What are you doing sweetheart?” He chuckles as you slowly spin in his arms as laughter continues to bubble inside you before your head falls to his chest. His arms tighten their hold on you as he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I almost tripped,” you giggle, eyes moving towards his beautiful face, taking in his scruffy beard, eventually your eyes lead to his lips. As soon as your eyes meet again, he leans down, capturing your lips in a loving and sweet kiss.

His mouth moves, slow and passionate. Joel kisses you like he has all the time in the world. You love the feel of his lips on yours, you are certain you could kiss that man all day.

You part your lips slightly to catch your breath, inhaling slowly as you taste Joel and only him. His tongue sweeps across your lips making you whimper. The wet muscle wraps itself against yours a moment later, hot and wet and steady as he tastes your mouth and kisses you deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands try to find purchase on his arms. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet as both of his hands travel from your waist to your ass, squeezing it in his hands and pushing your body closer to his.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, Joel pulls away, giving you the possibility to breathe in some air again. You feel like you might die when he looks at you intensely as he licks his lips.

A small moan slips past your lips as his hands caress your cheek, then tilting it to the side as Joel moves his head as he traces small nips across your jawline, ending just by your ear. Your hips are softly grinding up into his and he slowly pulls away from you.

You feel drowsy and hot all over, your mind all over the place, your heart beating insanely fast. You’re breathless and Joel chuckles deeply as he takes in your state.

“You okay baby?” He says as he looks at you with amusement.

You quickly come back to your senses, grabbing the collar of his flannel, surprising him, bringing his lips down to your mouth. “I want to undress you,” you whisper against Joel’s lips as your cheeks flush with heat. He moans against your mouth as his hands grip your hips in his hands.

Automatically, your fingers reach up to begin their work undressing him, plucking each button open, one by one. They dart over the curve of his chest, your hands continue to move as you expose more of his body. By the time his shirt is fully off, you pull back from his lips, taking joy in watching the broad and the softness of his torso heaving as his breathing quickens.

Your hands continue to roam over his skin, skipping over the tanned smoothness of his muscle. His physique was broad, soft in the right places. His body was absolutely something that drew you in — he was so big and just so tall, something you enjoyed revealing in, allowing his form to spark a certain energy inside you that you felt heating up between your legs.

“Turn the shower on.” He grunts, voice low as his thick and long digits begin to hastily pry the belt buckle of his pants open. Without question, you obey, moving from his embrace to walk across the room to the shower stall. As you step away, your departure earns you a light, playful slap across your ass, to which you yelp in surprise.

“Joel!” You scold him, as you look at him shyly, looking at him backwards. His pants drop with a clang to the ground. His shirt is still half open as he lets you admire him. Your gaze moves slowly, all over his body. Eventually it falls to his dark boxers, his thick erection straining against the material.

He senses your approval, as you look at him lustfully while you appreciate him, and acts quickly. Shifting forward, his arms wrap around you, bare upper body flush against your clothed one. His arms are firm, as they surround you, hugging you against his chest.

“Why am I the only one that’s practically naked?” He questions with a low grunt. Before you can respond his hands are tugging at the hem of your shirt, peeling it over your head. Once the material drops to the floor you hear his breath hitch. He admires you, as his eyes roam over your bare chest.

You bite your lip as heat overwhelms your face. “J-joel—” You whimper loudly and before your brain can register what’s happening, Joel drags his tongue across your neck, tracing a line around your jaw before returning to the crook and lightly dragging the flesh through his teeth. You feel your core clench around nothing as he latches onto your neck, lapping at your sensitive flesh and sucking the sensitive skin.

Joel groans against you and you feel his sound vibrate through your neck and it raises goosebumps across your whole body, he has a way of bringing that electric chill through you. Slowly, his mouth moves back up to your lips, kissing you deeply.

He undresses you unhurriedly, while you both continue to kiss each other passionately. Joel seems determined to devour you whole, determined to make the most of this desperate kiss.

Once the last piece of clothing falls to the floor, he pulls away slightly as his hands caress the length of your arms, admiring your body with a lustful yet tender gaze. Silently, you pray that Joel hadn’t seen the attached thick pad, despite knowing the stark red marks of blood stood out against the white pad attached to the inside of your underwear.

“You’re so, so beautiful baby.” He says as he moves his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks, tilting your chin as his lips ghost against yours. He slowly glides his lips against yours, nudging them open. You part your lips wider, urging him to kiss you more and deep. You want to give him everything you have to offer.

You whine against his lips as you feel his hands move from your face to your waist, all the way to your ass. You pull away slowly, his pupils are dilated as he licks his lips before he squeezes the flesh of your ass in his hands.

“F-f-fuck, Joel…” you whimper as you pull yourself away from his hold completely. “We should get in…”

He stares you down hungrily for a moment before his gaze drifts to the shower. “Good idea, sweet girl.” He says cheekily.

You quickly step into the shower with one foot and reach for the shower handle, turning the shower on. Immediately, water shoots from the shower head mounted to the wall, the spray wetting your arm.

“Alright, that’s done.” You say with a joyful smile, before you feel his hands around your waist again, as he leans down to kiss your neck.

You giggle at his affection, loving the feeling of being wanted. Once the water heats up, you step into the shower completely, you sigh contentedly as the water cascades down on you, the warmth already relaxing your muscles. You turn to face the water, closing your eyes as you let it run off the back of your scalp, your hands coming up to rub over your face.

Soon, you feel the front of his body against your back. His erection presses against your lower back as you whimper against him. Joel’s hands are sliding against your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. You can feel your breath growing shaky as you respond to his movements, turning your body around in his embrace. Your arms encircling his back, your body leaning towards his.

His eyes catch your gaze before they close, as he moves you backwards as the spray of water falls on him. Almost instantly, his broad body is glistening wet, his hair getting soaked against his head. His arms are strong and thick as he reaches up to slick it back. The gentle movement of him flexing his forearm ignites a surge of pleasure jolting through your core. He moves his hands back to your hips, holding you closer as he opens his eyes unhurriedly.

Your arms automatically wrap around Joel again, his wet skin warm and inviting as your body slicks against his. You lean up, your lips moving towards his own.

He gladly meets your lips halfway, as you’re standing on the tip of your toes. Joel kisses you slowly, teasingly, like he has all the time in the world, his hands squeezing your hips, pressing his own hips against yours as he finally deepens the kiss. You gasp as his hands knead your ass, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

“You’re truly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.” Joel murmurs against your lips. His own lips become more and more eager as he backs you slowly against the shower wall. You hiss slightly as the cold wall hits your back but the uneasiness is short lived as Joel tucks his face into your neck, his lips pressing soft open mouthed kisses below your ear. “The woman of my dreams.”

“Joel…” You mewl as he shifts his hips back slightly, causing his throbbing cock to move from its position of pressing hard against your lower stomach. He bends his knees slightly, bringing him down a bit as his tip slides against your thighs, prodding its way between them before travelling upwards to rub enticingly against your clit.

He rolls his hips forward, nudging the head against your entrance, turning you into a whimpering mess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing as your pussy begs for attention. Glancing down, you see a smeared streak of red down half of his shaft. It is so wet and red. If Joel had seen it he doesn’t seem to care. Joel reaches up to grasp the detachable shower head. His free hand runs down your body, as he caresses your soft skin.

Joel’s hand brings the shower head between your legs, standing back slightly as the water sprays from your pussy, as a rusty brown river flows towards the drain. The warmth of the water as the sprays hit against your core feel so good, it has you whining at the pleasure. It stimulates your sensitive pussy so well. You lean into him, his broad frame envelopes you instantly in a tender embrace. One of his forearms remains steady between your thighs, as the water pulses against you.

His lips meet yours in a heated kiss. You feel so overwhelmed, your heart hammering against your chest as you roll your hips against the strong pulses. You moan as he slowly moves his head to kiss and nip at your jaw.

His eyelids hang low as he watches you, his eyes concentrated on each roll of your hips, each grind of your pussy against the stream. Your body trembles the closer he moves the shower head against you, feeling so close to your release, you try to move your hips along with it more. You’re a whimpering mess for him against the cold tile wall. One of his hands dig in your hips, guiding your body the second he notices you slowing down. Turning the shower stream setting to another, harder setting, as he moves it against your dripping centre, specifically your sensitive clit, does it — makes you double over as you cum.

Your head leans against his chest, as you try to catch your breath and try to tone down your little noises of pleasure while you slow down your movements against the water pulses. One of his hands slides over your back as his arm pulls you closer against him while he pulls the shower head back with the other.

“You did so well for me baby girl.” He whispers against your skin as he presses a soft kiss against your forehead. The water flows back against your bodies, as you both stand underneath the stream. His mouth moves from your forehead down to your lips. The kiss starts off gentle and tender, but soon evolves into something more passionate and deep. He brings your body impossibly closer to his, and you can’t seem to quite catch your breath.

You open your mouth to swipe your wet muscle against his lips, Joel’s lips slowly opening up for you to slip your tongue inside. Your tongues dance against each other slowly, his taste is so delicious, making you whine against his lips.

His hands travel from your back, all the way down to your waist, his hands occasionally squeezing your flesh. One of his hands slips all the way down to your wet heat in between your legs, while the other is holding your body close to his. All the while he’s kissing you deeply. You whimper when his fingers pass by your sensitive bundle of nerves.

His fingers slide up and down your slit, slowly spreading your outer lips for him to slip two of his fingers inside you. You cry out as he rubs his fingers against your walls. You feel your body trembling and you try to grind your pussy slowly against his fingers. He presses his palm against your clit as he gradually picks up the pace of his hand.

Your legs almost give out on you at the pressure against your clit combined with his fingers playing with your sensitive spot inside. You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears as you continue to grind and buck your hips against his hand. He steadies you with his other hand as he smiles against your lips. He swirls his tongue against yours as you mewl against his mouth. Your thighs tremble so hard as your noises start to become more high pitched. You feel quite literally so dizzy as he keeps pleasuring you under the warm stream.

“Come on kitten, come for me.” He groans against your mouth.

You slowly open your eyes, meeting his playful eyes as you pull your mouth from his to cry out loud as your hips stutter against his hand as you come undone. You tighten and untighten around his fingers as you ride out your high. After a while he slips his fingers out of you, chuckling lightly while you whine as you slump against his body. Both of his hands catch your body and he smiles softly down at you.

“Always doin’ so good for me. Such a good girl.” He whispers as his mouth moves to kiss your neck. He peppers and licks your skin as you continue to tremble against him.

“P-please Joel… need you so bad.” You whimper desperately, needing him so badly to just take you. To enter your tight pussy with his thick and long cock. You whine as his lips move to yours, catching your lips in a scorching kiss, the loss of him leaving you empty and craving.

Joel lifts one of your legs up, hiking it up around his hips as he keeps you close. A gasp leaves your lips and you move to press your forehead against his as you breathe heavily. The other hand moves to slip his length against your wet heat. You tremble and whine as you anticipate his next move.

“Ah, Joel… I love you.” Your lips embrace him once again, kissing him deeply. As your hips shift desperately forward, driven by your need to have him enter you, they roll directly against his tip as he slips the head of his cock finally inside your little pussy. You let out a long broken whine as he continues to push gradually more of him inside you. Your walls try to accommodate his girth as he moves deeper inside your tight, wet walls.

“Fuck, I love you too sweetheart.” He groans softly.

Once he’s fully inside you, you whimper against his lips. It feels so good, the feel of the fullness of his member, his raw and throbbing cock deep within your walls. You feel one of his hands finding one of your hands, lacing them with yours and he presses it against the wall as the other one holds your leg, keeping it secure around his hip.

“You okay?” He whispers as he checks up on you.

You smile as you nod, “Y-yeah, just give me a moment.”

“Anythin’ for you baby girl.” He leans up to kiss your forehead as your eyes drift close.

You feel yourself slowly adjusting to his size, your pussy still pulsing around his cock. You bite your lip as you continue to squeeze around him, your eyes slide open unhurriedly meeting his intense gaze.

“Please, p-please move.” You whine out pathetically.

He nods quietly and starts by fucking you slow and deep. His hips drive forward, moving through you before drawing his tip out completely. He repeats himself, so slowly, and with intention. It feels as if he is taking his time to enjoy the sensation.

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“More, more—” You mumble, whining and he makes a loud noise — a noise somewhere between pained, and desperate, he only nods before he picks up the pace, the pressure building between your hips once again.

You hug him against your body as his both arms come to brace himself against the cold tile wall. The sound of skin slapping against wet skin, his hips hitting yours coupled with both your quiet moans and the wet squelching of him moving hard and fast inside you, echoing off the tile walls with the sound of the running water — has your cheeks heating up furiously.

He fills you up so perfectly, stretching your tight wet hole so well, he feels like pure heaven.

“Fuck, kitten you feel so good…” He breathes heavily, grunting here and there as he continues to fuck you harder. A particular hard thrust coupled with one of his fingers moving to press against your little nub has you gasping for air. The presence of his thumb flickers over the sensitive bundle of nerves, swollen and juicy with your arousal.

You whine as you feel the leg that’s hiked up around his hip, sliding off his body. Your fingers dig in the skin of his back making him groan. He quickly moves his hand to grab your leg again, keeping it in place as he picks up his pace once again.

“Fuck, I’ll never get used to fucking this sweet little pussy of yours. All raw.” He grunts as he moves his hips with deep and fast strokes. “All mine.”

Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly around his thickness, begging for him to fill you up with his cum. You whimper, whine and moan against him while your body trembles, his fingers still circling your clit with his other hand as he hums against your mouth.

“I can feel you milking my cock, baby girl. Begging for me to make us cum.” Joel’s hips stutter slightly as you clench particularly hard around him, feeling every ridge and vein. His intense gaze is on you as he moans loudly. “Your pussy is so wet, feels so fuckin’ good.”

“J-Joel, baby, want to cum so bad.” You beg as you whine against him, your nails digging in the skin of his back once again. “I want you to cum inside me so bad.”

“Cum for me, my pretty baby. Show me that I’m the only one who can make you cum like this. Cum all over me, sweet girl.” He whispers with a groan as his fingers apply more pressure on your clit.

“Fuuuuck, Joooeel—” You come with a loud cry, your body squirming against his as you hold his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. This orgasm feels more intense than the others, feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re feeling.

It takes only a few more seconds — his pace increasing, the sound of skin slamming against skin filling the room, the room and him smelling like pure sex. As he stutters, hips shifting erratically into you, you feel the first hot spurt of his cum bursting into you, painting your inner walls. You look up as Joel looks completely fucked out as he continues to cum inside you. Your walls squeeze hard around him as pleasure continues to course through you, milking every last drop of his cum.

You feel both of your bodies slump against one another, as one of his arms moves to support himself against the wall while his other hand is still holding your leg up around his hip.

Eventually, as both of you are able to catch your breaths, he slowly moves to put your trembling leg back down after pulling out of you gently. You whine at the loss and he chuckles lightly at your reaction. As soon as he’s completely out of you, the sticky liquid begins to dribble out of you, creamy and thick oozing out of your heat. Joel supports your shaking body as he wraps his arms around you, embracing you tenderly.

“Fuck, baby… that was amazing.” You whisper as he presses kisses against the crown of your head.

“You know I’d do anythin’ for you darlin’. Besides, I loved it just as much.” He winks, looking at you as he moves his body away from yours slightly.

Once both of you are cleaned up, you both head downstairs in comfortable clothing. Joel moves to the kitchen, making your favourite meal to make you even more relaxed. You sigh happily as you lean the front of your body against his back, wrapping your arms around him. He hums softly as you embrace him, appreciating your affection.

“Thank you.” You mumble against his shirt.

“Anytime sweetheart.”

For a while, you stay like this, enjoying each other’s warmth and company as he makes dinner. Feeling so loved and at home. You’ll never get tired of loving Joel.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x plus size reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #tlou x you #tlou x reader #joel miller fanfiction #my writing

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yunarim · 11 months

Note

hello if you can still ask, I'm interested in asking for headcanons for pomefiore reacting when his mc fem decides to interpret nxde from g-idle in a karaoke night at the cafe de azul or well wherever, you decide the place if you want xd that would be all Thank you and take care <33

・┆✦ʚ I don't give a love ɞ✦ ┆・— yes, i'm nxde

⌞summary⌝ — pomefiore reacting to fem!reader interpreting (g)i-dle's 'nxde' during the karaoke night

⌞tags⌝ — female reader (she/her pronouns but none were actually used), sfw, reader wears an outfit similar to shuhua's (that black and red one girls wore during the chorus), octavinelle makes a cameo in the intro because why not

“Hey, Shrimpie!~”

You turn to Floyd, still sipping your drink, and tilt your head.

Apparently Azul called for him while you two were chatting, and there he is, looking absolutely exhausted after the discussion they had. You actually wondered what that was about since everyone seemed rather hyped up for an unknown to you upcoming event.

“Now now, Floyd,” Jade approached you, refilling your drink as you threw a quick suspicious glance at them, grinning slightly. “Don’t rush it.”

“It’s boring,” Floyd replied, taking a seat next to you. “Plus, Shrimpie doesn’t like it when we’re just throwing hints and such. Right, Shrimpie?”

“Right you are,” you nodded. “So, what’s the deal?”

“Azul’s going to hold a karaoke night!!” Floyd announced quite excitedly, waiting for you to react, and attempted to squeeze you once glimpses of interest appeared in your eyes, but you quickly dodged.

“Sounds nice,” you answered. “You want me to perform or what? I don’t think I can pull off any of Twisted Wonderland songs though, they’re still rather unfamiliar, but if you give me some time, then…”

“Quite the opposite, Prefect,” now it was Azul who appeared before you, giving you a project plan, perfectly neat and nicely arranged as always. “We would like you to sing something from your world.”

You pressed a finger to your chin, lost in thoughts. The idea itself was quite appealing but that meant you needed to translate a song to Twisted Wonderland language, moreover, which concept exactly should you consider, and what about outfit, makeup and—

“Of course we’re not putting any pressure on you!” Azul announced, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “If you’re worried about the cost, then leave it to us. Also regarding the translation of the song, we can help you too. Just choose something catchy and remarkable, you’re our rising star, after all.”

“Great then,” you agreed, putting your sign on the contract he pulled out of nowhere, much to Floyd and Jade’s delight. “I’ll leave everything to you then, but… I’ll translate the song myself. Just provide me with some amount of money after I calculate everything.”

“It’s a deal then~” Azul hummed. “I’m awaiting your performance.”

Next day you show up a bit earlier than expected. Octavinelle trio turns to you, as if questioning why you came up when it’s literally two hours before the show starts, but you reassuringly smile.

“Good evening, everyone. If you’re wondering why I came that early, then well…” you show them a heavily-looking bag you brought with you. “I need to get ready. Oh and please make sure no one enters the dressing room while I’m there, alright? I don’t want to ruin a surprise.”

“Don’t worry, Shrimpie!~” Floyd reassures you.

“Good luck today, Prefect,” Jade nods.

“Oh I won’t disappoint you.”

And with that you enter the dressing room, ready to impress.

・┆✦ʚ did you think i'd just laugh as if?

—♡ VIL SCHOENHEIT praises your outfit choice and makeup skills the very second he sees you getting up on the stage. It’s dark, and the music has no instrumental intro, so you’re just standing there, waiting for the lights to turn on, and the moment you say the very first word of the lyrics, he’s immersed into your performance.

—♡ He saw the pamphlet, a song from your world translated to their language sounded quite intriguing, but he couldn’t even think you would choose such an… idiomatic song.

—♡ He also assumes there’s a dance to this song, but you don’t move much due to the outfit and because there’s karaoke night being held after all, not an idol-like show. But he still catches what he guesses is supposed to be signature moves.

—♡ He’s a performer himself, so he’s highly concentrated on your devotion, and needless to say you polished this song to perfection.

—♡ He wonders if you’re implying some message to students, given you’re the only female in this school, and the way you grin slyly makes him realize that you definitely are trying to say something through the song.

—♡ “The way I talk is kinda dumb But I’ve got a sexy, sexy figure” is definitely an allusion to how people preserved you when you first got here, and Vil’s ready to make sure you’re not getting unwanted attention and any misconceptions. In case you wish to know how to handle such situations, you can always ask him for a piece of advice. —♡ The moment you start singing the chorus part, he’s smirking proudly. —♡ You’re absolutely stunning. He wants you to release this song officially, would you like to work under the label he models?

—♡ “I’m born nude and you’re the pervert" line makes him notice someone in the Lounge coughing out of embarrassment because you’re being incredibly sharp.

—♡ After the performance ends, he joins you in the dressing room, praising you. He also asks why you choose the song with such lyrics, and tells you if there’s someone or something bothering you, don't be afraid to ask him for help.

—♡ You appreciate it, but there’s actually no need, given you feel extremely confident after delivering the message through the song.

—♡ Ends up rewatching fancams someone took and uploaded on MagiTube the next day right before going to sleep.

—♡ Wants you to release the song with the MV provided so badly.

・┆✦ʚ put on my beautiful self

—♡ It's obviously ROOK HUNT who's ready to collapse the very second you make your way to the stage.

—♡ The way the fur layer on the black corset emphasizes your collarbones; the way fishnet stockings suits you; the way the scarlet satin ribbons on your skirt glisten and follow your movements like the waves of the sea; the way your hands look immensely elegant enveloped in silk gloves; the way the jewelry shines in the dim warm light of the Lounge…

—♡ Sevens, just how stunning can you be? Spare him and his poor weak heart and—

—♡ “Twisted Lorelei that don’t need no man” part makes him want to clap the second you sing this line, but he manages to refrain from doing that in order not to ruin your performance.

—♡ Your gaze aimed right at the audience is sharp and piercing, he wonders if you’re trying to deliver the message with the song to a certain someone. He also hopes there’s no one who actually hurt you by saying something inappropriate. Otherwise he would ask if you need his help.

—♡ He also feels like you don’t, given how enchantingly beautiful you look now, your confidence radiating from your every move and every line you sing.

—♡ “Baby, how do I look?” — ah Sevens, great you asked!! He’s already filming a fancam to appreciate it once more later (not just once though–). And you do look like you’re about to crush a lot of hearts today, as well as end up breaking someone’s unwanted comments about your behavior and your looks.

—♡ “Excusez-moi, to all of you who are sitting here, if you were expecting some rated R show” line is the moment Rook thinks one bouquet of splendid flowers isn’t enough to show his gratitude for your braveness and confidence he absolutely adores and respects.

—♡ The amount of appreciation he radiates actually equals all the audience’s adoration.

—♡ As your performance ends, he’s the first to stand up and rush to the stage, presenting a bouquet of flowers to you. He then gently takes your hand in his, as if escorting you to the dressing room.

—♡ He’s pretty sure people would make malicious comments about the meaning you tried to deliver, but worry not — Rook knows exactly who these people are, and he’s here to reassure you that you did the right thing.

—♡ (Also please consider Vil’s offer to record a music video—)

・┆✦ʚ you're welcome to throw those dumb popcorns —♡ It's EPEL FELMIER who screams out loud when you appear on the stage even before the song actually starts.

—♡ First years introduced cover dance festivals to him, he knows how important it is to show the support for the ones who perform.

—♡ He catches you throwing a quick smile at him, and he screams once more, saying you're literally the best!! Epel’s actually the best hype boy out there.

—♡ “The audience booed and shouted ‘You tricked me, you’re a liar!’” YES CRASH THEM, MAKE THEM DEVASTATED, RUIN THOSE STEREOTYPES!!

—♡ He enjoys the song so much, oh Sevens, you’re so brave and confident, he’s SOOO invested. And yet the more he listens, the more he wonders if you’re speaking from experience. If you are, then spill the tea, who’s been bothering you so much? He’s ready to throw some fists—

—♡ “I feel sick of those prejudice made by themselves” NO BECAUSE you’re being so real and true, he can’t stand it either when people misjudge someone because of their looks.

—♡ He’s the first one to start screaming when the choruses come, and the audience just repeats after him. He respects you so much, not only your devotion, your outfit, makeup and voice are admirable, but you’re also confident, a truly self-made woman.

—♡ “Think outside of the box” JUST HOW TRUE YOU ARE!! Epel no longer sitting, he’s standing and even jumping, showing his appreciation as much as it even possible and causing the others to catch on his excitement.

—♡ When the song ends, he shouts out “STAN YUU FOR CLEAR SKIN YOU MORONS!!”, not even caring for Vil’s reaction and upcoming scolding.

—♡ He can’t be stopped on the way to the dressing room, Epel literally can’t shut up for at least a moment, praising you and going all ‘you did so well’, ‘you’re so cool’, ‘you’re my ultimate bias forever’ and so on.

—♡ Feel free to tell him if there’s someone who’s bothering you, he can help. You’re not sure about his methods, but appreciate his good will.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #vil x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier

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mortwig · 1 year

Text

Sparks Fly

Entry for the amazing’s @withahappyrefrain “Dicked Down December”. Written for the loveliest and kindest person ever born: @ouralcohol

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker fanfic

Words: 5,2k

Pairing: fem!reader* x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Friends/Co-workers to Lovers, Christmas vibes

Tags: 18+ explicit, strangers to work besties to lovers, so much fluff, smut (only in the Epilogue though), nudity, vaginal sex, oral sex (both F receiving), all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

Moodboard: here

“I hadn’t realised we needed a new PE teacher?” you mentioned casually, while taking a bite of your sandwich. You and your work bestie, Kayla, were sitting under the shade of some trees, hiding from the hot late summer sun. Children were running around playing tag, sometimes even using you as cover.

Kayla looked up quickly, mild panic on her face. The principal was with a tall, dark-haired man, pointing to the different facilities from the other end of the playground. “Tan pronto?” she whispered under her breath.

You looked at her quizzingly. Kayla always wore her heart on her sleeve. She was never good at hiding emotions, and right now was no exception. She took a deep breath and, looking down at her shoes, said:

“I’ve been offered to be vice-principal in a different school… And I’ve said yes. I guess that guy must be my replacement.”

“Kayla, that is amazing! Enhorabuena!” You went to hug her, but she turned, tears welling up in her eyes.

“The job is in Florida.”

Your face dropped, and your arms did too, now hanging uselessly at your sides. The tears were also making an appearance on your face.

“I’m sorry.” She managed before the sobs overtook her.

You looked at her for a long moment before pulling her into a hug.

“I’m not. You’ve needed a change for a long time and this sounds like an amazing opportunity. I’m proud of you for taking this step. And I’ll be visiting. Often. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

It turned out that Kayla’s replacement as a science teacher was a guy from New York called Peter Parker. Rumour had it he was running away from something, or someone, back home. But when you asked, he just gave a vague response about him “also needing a change”. You didn’t press any further. After all, we all have our demons.

He caught on pretty quickly to the bond you and Kayla had, and it was as though he could feel your pain. Every time you felt the sadness creeping in, he would pop by with a question about school protocols or class locations.

Some petty part of you wanted to dislike him. He would never replace Kayla. He was just some guy. And the truth was, he didn’t replace her. But instead, he filled a void you didn’t know you had. You and Kayla had bonded over good food, Top Gun, and fanfiction of some superhero or other. You’d cook and then be lazy together, laughing and fawning over hot fictional guys and celebrities. Peter was different, he was intent on learning Spanish and he convinced you to go on runs together so he could practice his pronunciation. After endless conversations about anything ranging from soccer to Taylor Swift lyrics, by Thanksgiving you were essentially inseparable.

“Listen up, team! This year, it’s the music department’s turn to organize the staff Christmas party.”

You saw at least four people near you stifle a disappointed groan. The music department was composed of three very extra teachers who were known for the most extravagant ideas and an obsession with glitter for some reason. You wondered if they’d magically found each other or if joining the group implied a transformation into whatever they had going on.

Diana, the oldest of the three, stepped up, hands clasped in an effort to hide her excitement.

“We have a very special evening prepared for all of you. Unfortunately, the PE department wasn’t okay with us using the gym because, I quote ‘it’s a bitch to clean up, and you’ll be too hangover to do it’. So we’ve had to move the location to the old Victorian house at the end of the road that turns out is owned by Michael’s great aunt and which has been recently renovated in an effort to rent it out to tourists next summer.”

Diana’s gossiping and oversharing was nothing new, and most of the staff were only half listening by this point.

“The theme is Christmas fairytale. You must adhere to the theme. If you do not, you will be banned from the bar area. You have been warned.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “They did it. They figured out how to get people to put in some effort. Threaten them with an alcohol-free Christmas party.”

Peter giggled under his breath next to you. It didn’t matter how many times you heard that stupid laugh of his, it still made your heart skip a beat. It was like hearing a song you loved as a child that you’d forgotten about. Like the gasp of excitement at the arrivals lounge of an airport on the 24th of December, when someone sees that person they’ve been missing for ages. Like the pop of a champagne cork celebrating a long-awaited pregnancy over Christmas dinner. Like the crinkle of wrapping paper around a perfectly chosen present. It was a simple sound, but it filled you with pure, soul-warming joy.

You didn’t dare look his way though, because he might notice a slight red tinge to your cheeks, a vague indication of a simmering feeling trying to find its way out of your chest, one way or another.

“Kayla, I don’t want to go…”

“You’ve said that seven times in the last hour. I’ve been counting.” Kayla had her phone up by her stove and was making something that, you assumed, smelled as delicious as it looked. Her hands were on her hips, in a proper scolding teacher pose.

“But it’s true…” You pouted, sitting back on the mattress. The numerous layers of fabric of the dress you were trying on covered most of the bed.

“What exactly is the problem? We’ve already decided that the dress is beautiful and on theme, you’ll get enough alcohol to endure Sarah’s incessant bickering, you can watch Jerry make a fool of himself on the dancefloor after four tequilas, and most importantly: you can collect intel on all the new flings that form under the glittery mistletoe that these guys have undoubtedly hung in every dark corner.”

“But it won’t be any fun without you…”

“You have a new friend now!”

“He’s no you.”

“No, he’s way hotter.” Kayla raised her eyebrows and smirked at you through the phone screen.

“Shut up.” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Why not though?”

“Because… I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Come on… You’ve ‘not been looking for anything’ for years now. Isn’t it time to have some fun? Or at the very least, some drama to entertain your best friend?”

“You’re the worst. Peter and I are on track to become good friends. If I lose him over a silly infatuation, I’ll be even lonelier without either of you. Not worth it.”

“HA! I knew it! I knew you liked him.”

You instantly regretted your wording, but there was no time to discuss it further. The doorbell rang and with a quick “Gotta go, bye!” the call was over and you were clumsily slipping out of the dress.

“Coming!!” you shouted as you slipped on an oversized hoodie. Hopefully it was the delivery guy with that cute light-up Christmas jumper you’d ordered two weeks ago.

But when you opened the door, Peter was standing there, looking absolutely dashing. Because the truth was, what you told Kayla was a “silly infatuation” was in fact a full-on raging crush. And it had been going on for weeks now.

The way you thought about him switched in your brain right after Thanksgiving. You had a very bad brain day. You didn’t mean for things to escalate, and you certainly didn’t mean to cry in front of him, but all the emotions you had been bottling up exploded and all sorts of negative thoughts appeared all at once.

And he’d said nothing, because there was nothing to be said. You didn’t want to hear another “it’ll be okay” or another “it’ll pass”, and he didn’t say those words. Instead, he hugged you and held you for a minute, five, half an hour, forty-five minutes. While you just cried and cried and cried. And then when you stopped sobbing, he took your hand, took you to the nice bar down the road, bought you a smoothie and told you about the movies that he and his aunt May and uncle Ben used to watch every single Christmas.

Since then, every one of his smiles held a different meaning and every one of his light touches to your arm stung like an electrical discharge. And while you knew nothing could happen -should happen- between you, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining a life with him, your mind racing with images of picket fences and golden retrievers and children running around the living room.

“Hello…” Peter was still standing in front of you, his eyes wide in both confusion and worry. How long had you been standing there, staring into the void, thinking about how in love you were?

“Peter!” You blurted out.

“That’s me…”

You continued to stare blankly at him, your brain refusing to cooperate as your heart raced at the sight of his unruly hair sticking out in twenty different directions.

“I’m not one to judge anyone’s fashion sense, but I have to say I’m surprised that you chose the mustard stain look to go to Taylor Swift karaoke.”

“Wasn’t that Thursday?”

“Darling, today’s Thursday…” If your brain was short-circuiting before, his use of the endearing term sent it into overdrive and you felt light-headed for a second. You recovered quickly though, you’d had enough breakdowns in front of him for what was left of the year.

“Fuck.”

Despite the facts finally falling into place in your brain, you still didn’t move. So, Peter gently placed his hands on your shoulders and moved you to the side, stepping into your hall.

“You go get changed, I’ll grab the tickets. Where can I find them?”

“Yes, right, sorry.” You shook your head, coming back to Earth. “I think they’re stuck to the fridge. Otherwise… Somewhere on the counter, I guess. I’m sure you’ll find them eventually.”

You ran upstairs to your bedroom, your ballgown still covering most of your floor space. You didn’t really have the time to curate an outfit so you took the most basic black dress and the first pair of nice shoes you could find. It hadn’t even been ten minutes and you were back by the front door, keys in hand, coat on.

“Okay, I’m ready. Sorry about that.”

“You have a very messy place.”

“Not usually, I don’t… It’s just been a messy few weeks.” Messy in your head, you meant. Because it had been a long time since your heart had been in such a fit of emotion that it neglected all responsibilities. Like the night before, when you’d ignored the pile of dirty dishes and instead opened a bottle of wine and wrote self-indulging friends-to-lovers fanfiction that was definitely not a vivid daydream of Peter and you.

“I like your wall art, by the way…” You felt him looking at you from the corner of his eye as you locked the door and headed towards your car. “Spiders, huh…?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, spiders…”

“What’s so funny about spiders?” Did he sound almost… offended?

“Nothing actually. I used to be very scared of them. I sometimes am, still. But that wall art is part of my journey of getting over my fears, and it’s also a reminder of what I’m capable of if I get my mind to it.”

You glanced his way. He looked equal parts confused and in awe.

“Sorry, that was way too deep.” You cleared your throat, suddenly a bit overwhelmed and ashamed of your oversharing. “What do you want to sing first? I say we start with a classic, something from Speak Now maybe?”

Peter was still just staring at you. He didn’t laugh though, he didn’t even look uncomfortable. He seemed just… curious. After what seemed like an eternity in your over-thinking brain, he finally spoke slowly:

“Perhaps ‘Sparks Fly’.” He didn’t take his eyes off your face, studying you, your reaction, the way your eyes widened ever so slightly before you could put on your best neutral expression.

“A bop. Sounds good.”

You tossed and turned in bed, running through the events of the evening in your mind. Aside from the rocky start, it had been generally uneventful. Or so you tried to tell yourself. Because really, was there much to pinpoint that would make it different from any other meet-up with friends? There had been his hand gently touching your waist on your way into the bar. How he twirled you on your way to get a drink because someone was singing Lover. How he’d made his way to the bartender and winked at you when he got your order right within the first guess. And a million other tiny things. But above all, more than every other little gesture of kindness and every other possible indication of flirting, there had been Sparks Fly. How he’d held your hands throughout the chorus, and how he’d stared deep into your eyes and ran your hands through your hair at the start of the bridge. You’d expected him to laugh it off, to say he was just joking. Anything, any indication that there was not something weird going on between you. But he hadn’t. And now you were left wondering if maybe it was reciprocal. If he also felt the butterflies, the tension, the tug at his heart to kiss you when he leaned in to help you open your front door that always gets a bit stuck in the evenings. He said nothing. You said nothing. And you supposed life went on, same same but different.

As usual, you’d miscalculated how much time you would need to get ready and you were running late. You still had to do hair and make-up and you were supposed to meet Peter in ten minutes. You sighed heavily as you sat down in front of your mirror, phone in hand.

> Running late

> I’ll meet you there

> You sure?

> I don’t mind waiting

> Yeah sure

> You’ll just stress me out

> I would never

You giggled at the glassy-eyed cat sticker on your screen.

You hated – hated – getting to events alone. It was so awkward. Even if you knew everyone there, and you got along well with most of them. That feeling of having to find a conversation to engage in, those first few minutes. They were awful.

The hall was empty when you arrived so you sneaked a selfie in the huge vintage mirror that decorated one of the walls. You sent it to Kayla. After all, the outfit had been chosen with her. You were wearing a huge puffy white and ice-blue dress that shimmered magically under the light. A delicate mistletoe wreath on your head and some angel wings completed the look. “A Christmas angel-fairy”, Kayla called it.

You followed the noise to what must have been the dining room, but which had been turned into a ballroom. You gasped at how magical it looked. The renovated ceiling had been decorated with thousands of tiny lights that gave the room a warm glow and made everything look ethereal. The heavy red velvet courtains were drawn, and two fireplaces were lit. Christmas trees stood in every corner, decorated with classic red ornaments and gold tinsel. A bar had been set up at the end of the room, by a band that was playing a cover of Ayo Technology. They had several big bowls full of smoking drinks, and a guy dressed as an elf was mixing drinks for a very happy-looking admin team.

You looked around for Peter, in hopes of going straight to talk to him instead of having to engage in small talk with colleagues you weren’t nearly drunk enough to deal with. It might have worked, had he not been standing at the opposite end of the room. He was wearing black suit and trousers, a flowery midnight blue vest and a beautiful matching cape that brushed the floor with his every move. And… was that an eye patch? What even was that costume?

It took you close to half an hour to make your way to him, which included, amongst others: four compliments on your dress, one joke about the mistletoe on your head by Olivia from admin, and several questions about how Kayla was doing in Florida.

“What is that supposed to be? Santa’s ocean affairs delegate, pirate Parker?”

Peter scoffed, and even before he turned, he already shot back:

“Excuse you, you uncultured ignorant. I’m uncle Drosselmeyer from the Nutcracker. And this cape took a week to make, so be nice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. He’d never mentioned an interest in ballet, let alone in sewing.

When he finally took a look at you, he let out a low whistle. “Damn, you look stunning.” He took your hand and twirled you slowly, admiring the outfit from all angles. “I didn’t know you vibed with long gowns and angelical accessories.” His cheeks were slightly redder than usual, and you couldn’t tell if he’d already had a couple of drinks or if he was somewhat flustered.

“It seems we still have a lot of things to learn about each other.” You muttered under your breath.

You really thought you’d said it quietly. The room was loud enough that you had to speak up to hear and be heard. Yet Peter leaned in closer, your cheeks almost touching, and whispered just loud enough that you almost weren’t sure if it had been your imagination:

“I can’t wait.”

You took a step back in surprise, but he’d already turned to one of the arts and crafts teachers to compliment her elaborate hairdo with little golden bells sticking out of it. People really went all out when alcohol was on the line. You were no exception. You headed right to the bar.

You danced, you talked, you drank, you laughed. You even cried once in the bathroom after you saw Kayla’s supportive messages in response to your picture from earlier.

It was almost midnight and you were positively drunk. The kind of happy drunk that gives you just a little too much confidence and a lot of courage. So when the band’s guitar player started playing the first few notes of Love Story, you ran to Peter so you could sing it together at the top of your lungs.

His eyepatch long gone and his hair messier than ever, you could tell he was also drunk. His casual touches were becoming more frequent. His eyes lingered in yours for longer. His smile was cheekier. His whispers more intimate. And, in your inebriation, you felt that spark between you stronger than ever. As if you could almost see it if you focused on the narrowing space between you.

It still came as a surprise when the band got to the outro and he put both his hands on your waist and pulled you close.

“Let’s go outside for a minute.”

He must have been exploring the house earlier because, instead of taking you out through the front door, he led you upstairs through the beautiful staircase in the hall, his hand firmly around yours. You looked around dreamily, your eyes hazy. Whatever the music department had done with the party, you had to give them that it truly felt like a Christmas fairytale. Through a few doors, you were out on a balcony, overlooking the backyard of the house which was also decorated and lit with a range of Christmas decorations.

You stood there, looking out at the beautiful scenery around you. For a minute, you forgot you were there with Peter, you were just drunk and happy and content.

But then Peter let go of your hand. And, as if he was the anchor keeping you from slipping out of your daydream, you looked back at him, concern drawn on your features. Your heart started beating, it felt loud enough that if Peter started talking, you weren’t sure you’d hear him.

“Y/N…”

He searched your face for something, but you were too scared to say anything.

“Listen, I’ll probably regret this when I wake up sober and hungover tomorrow morning…” His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat, maybe trying to gather enough courage to carry on. “I… I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth agape in shock. You couldn’t form a single word, let alone a full sentence. Seeing how you had been left speechless, Peter continued, trying to fix whatever might have been broken with those few words.

“But I promise I won’t let it affect our friendship. I have a lot of fun with you, I don’t want to lose the best friend I’ve made in years.”

You continued to stare at him, your mind racing but your tongue tied. Ten seconds passed, twenty, maybe thirty, and you said nothing. It must have looked terrible from his perspective. But you couldn’t work out what to say, you were frozen in place.

“I’m so sorry.” He turned and walked back inside, while your hand covered your mouth and you tried to work out what to do. Would you risk the friendship you felt in your bones could be one of the most important ones in your life? Would you risk the awkwardness at work if it didn’t work out? Would you, for a relationship life you always claimed you didn’t want? You already knew what your heart would respond to all those questions: yes, yes, yes. You searched your reason, your cold, calculating brain, for a different answer. But again: yes, yes, yes. How could you not?

Your heels were comfortable but it was still a struggle to run with the voluminous dress.

“Peter wait!” You yelled when you got to the top of the staircase. He was almost downstairs, his cape flowing behind him with every step he took. “I’m sorry!”

He looked back, caution written all over his face.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated as you rushed down. “I don’t want to lose you either, but…” panic replaced every emotion that was rushing through your veins, as you felt one of the silky underlayers of the dress get caught under your toes. In slow motion, you realized Peter was too far down to catch you, but at least you wouldn’t take him down with you. Your wreath went flying off your head as you braced yourself for impact. But the crash against the cold steps never came, only two warm arms holding you firmly.

“But what?”

You looked around in shock, trying to work out how he’d made it up half the staircase in less than a second. “How…?”

“But what?” he insisted, interrupting you. You looked back at him.

“But I’ll risk it all.” You inhaled deeply. “Because I think I’m in love with you too.”

Peter’s relief was obvious, from the way his body relaxed noticeably, and from the smile he flashed at you. He helped you upright so you could gather yourself. You were checking the damage to your dress, partly hiding from the sudden elephant in the room, partly to make sure you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself again.

Once it was obvious you were stalling, Peter cleared his throat. When you looked up, he had an eyebrow raised, and gently nodded up. Hanging about a feet over your heads was your mistletoe wreath. It seemed to be floating mid air but upon closer inspection you realized it was dangling from what seemed to be a spider web.

“How…?” again, it was all you could think to say. But this time, Peter wasn’t so patient. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you in for a kiss.

EPILOGUE

There hadn’t been much time, Peter left to spend Christmas with his Aunt May in New York. You would also be visiting family.

As for New Year’s… Let’s just say things had worked out nicely and Peter was now running his hands through your hair and kissing your neck and up towards the back of your ear. And oh if he didn’t stop whispering sweet nothings against your skin, you were certain you would melt into goo and dissolve right there on the sofa.

“You are absolutely stunning.”

“Mmh…” You hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence in the last ten minutes. You just hummed and whimpered while your body reacted to what you could have sworn was electricity passing to and from between the two of you.

Peter reached further down, caressing your back and waist tentatively. He was taking his sweet time and, as much as adored it, you felt a need building up in your core that needed to be met, and it needed to be met soon.

“Let’s move to the bed.” As much of a people pleaser as you usually were, the suggestion came out as a demand, firm and confident. In return, Peter didn’t hesitate, he simply looked into your eyes and picked you up bridal style.

You were impressed by how easily he carried you up the stairs, reminding you that you still hadn’t worked out how he’d managed the sprint up the stairs at the party. But that was a conversation for another moment because Peter was putting you down on the bed and seeking confirmation in your eye as his fingers trailed circles on your thighs. You nodded and he proceeded to run his hands up under your skirt, pulling down the hem of your tights. His hands ran back up your legs to pull your panties to the side. His fingers ran up and down the inside of your thighs as his lips met your clit, giving it a soft kiss before licking up and down and getting to work.

You lost track of time, and you were pretty sure you ascended to an alternate reality at some point, and were only brought back by the tightening coil in your abdomen. Peter switched perfectly between licking, sucking, kneading your thighs and humming against you in satisfaction. It was as if he could hear your heartbeat accelerate and relax with every wave of pleasure, giving him privileged information as to how to act at every precise moment.

But it was only after he put in his index finger inside you that you felt the orgasm incoming.

“Oh, fuck, Peter.”

You felt him smile cheekily against your clit, and you wanted to smack his head. You probably would have if he hadn’t been in charge of your pleasure at the time.

A second finger quickly followed, hitting your G spot at just the right time while your clit remained at his tongue’s mercy.

“Peter!” you whimpered, your right hand gripping his messy hair, while your left hand held onto the sheets for dear life. Your moans filled the room as you rode your high, his fingers maintaining a constant speed throughout your orgasm.

You were panting, still trying to catch your breath, as Peter undid his shirt buttons and helped you out of your dress.

“I cannot stress this enough; you are gorgeous.”

You peeked through your half-closed eyelids only to find him standing there, admiring your body.

“Beautiful enough to make love to?” Peter’s eyes went dark with desire at the question and you smirked at him.

The remaining clothes that still clung to your bodies were quickly removed and discarded. Peter kneeled between your legs, his hands combing his hair back. He was hard and leaking precum already. The awareness of him being this aroused just from making out with you and eating you out hit you like a train and you spread your legs wider for him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“So ready.” You winked at him and his cheeks turned just a tiny bit redder.

He didn’t rush it, he took his time, letting you adjust to his size. He only started pumping once you nodded at him. Slow, long strokes had you whimpering and squirming as you hid your head in the pillow, self-conscious of all the noises you were making.

“Hey, look at me. Those sounds you’re making are the hottest thing I’ve ever heard but I want to see you too.”

You were flustered, it was as if he could read your mind. But you made an effort and kept looking at him. And oh, was it worth it. He sped up his pace and lowered himself down to his elbows, close enough to kiss you and for you to grab his hair again. God, he had such amazing hair. He was panting, he seemed to be struggling.

“Tired, Parker?” You giggled in his ear.

“No, not at all. I’m just trying very hard not to cum because it would be embarrassing to last literally five minutes and also I want to make you cum at least once more.”

You were taken aback by this display of honesty. You had to admit you’d never been with any straight guy who felt so comfortable admitting stuff like that.

“I can help with that.”

You pushed him back a little, just enough that you could reach into your nightstand drawer and squirt some lube onto your hand.

Peter wasn’t moving, just looking at you in fascination. You reached between your bodies and circled your clit just like you did when you were alone. When your first moan hit his ears, Peter was brought back to Earth and he started pumping into you again. Tentatively at first, but deeper and faster as he gauged your positive reactions.

“I’m so close”, is what you said, but it took you so much effort to string the sentence together that when it came out, you were actually extremely close. So close that the next thrust from Peter’s hips sent you into orbit and you could do nothing but clench around him and hold his arms as if they were your anchors. You were just riding the last few waves of pleasure when you felt his consistent rhythm failing and his face contort. He soon crashed on top of you, both of you panting, completely blissed out.

A sound coming from the outside caught your attention before you could fully relax into each other. You frowned.

“Are those fireworks?” Peter asked. You turned towards your window and, sure enough, you could see colourful lights through the thin courtains.

“It looks like it.” You responded.

“I would have sworn it was 10 pm just ten minutes ago.” He sounded positively confused. You couldn’t help but laugh, one of those laughs that come from the belly, that makes you feel like a child again. And it must have been contagious because Peter started shaking on top of you, laughing quietly into the pillow next to you.

“Happy New Year, Peter.”

“Happy New Year, darling.”

Shout-out to @p3mybeloved for her cameo as Y/N’s best friend ❤️

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker x f!reader #dicked down december

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runningfrom2am · 9 months

Text

on the one screen in my town: four

summary:

mason’s life with drew was absolutely perfect, she was happier than ever; until everything came crashing down all at once.

tags/warnings:

drew starkey x fem!popstar!oc, drug and alcohol use, addiction, death, grief, these tags are not exhaustive, idk i'll add to this as it goes on.

wc: 1.9k

disclaimer!!: this part contains a song which i DID NOT WRITE** this is an amazing song by my mother, taylor swift, called “bigger than the whole sky” (i’ll link it here) so yeah i’m NOT claiming to have come up with the lyrics or any of the song AT ALL it just fit the vibes and this is all for fun :)

series masterlist

masterlists

Drew hears the echoing of their piano through the halls of their Charleston house as he sits in his office, trying to finalize all the legal documents and contracts of vendors for their wedding. It's hard when the wedding has been postponed, many of their deposits no longer valid. Not that it matters to him much, but it would be nice to be able to give them a solid date to stick to.

He sighs as he gets up, tiptoeing down the hall, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards as he gets closer to the music. He presses his back to the wall, wanting to listen without bothering Mason. He peeks inside, and the room is in the state it's been for months- papers and blankets everywhere, clothes and abandoned coffee mugs scattered on every imaginable surface. Her "writers cave", as she had jokingly called it before, now looks just as depressing as it sounds.

"Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?"

He hears the soft tones of her voice now that he's close enough. She was singing so quiet he could hardly pick it up over the sound of the piano, even being so close.

"Did some force take you because I didn't pray..."

The song Mason wrote in the wake of her breakup with Brady all those years ago has now taken on an entirely different meaning for both of them. Drew can hear the shakiness in her voice, the lyrics just slow and torturous enough to leave her attached to the words. Her mother has been gone for months now, and she is doing better with her grief, but Drew can't help but feel like he's mourning not just the woman who would have been his mother-in-law, but also the woman who was meant to be his wife.

It's a beautiful song, and it does take Drew a minute to wrack his mind for its title, placing a weight in his chest when he remembers just as Mason reaches the chorus.

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. You were bigger than the whole sky..."

She plays it slower, pushing the keys down harder, more frustrated that she couldn't get the notes just right as her voice shakes, and more frustrated that the association of the song has changed at all. Drew jumps as she slams her hands on the keys, swiping the sheet music onto the floor and turning on the bench. She freezes when she sees him in the doorway, no longer trying to hide. "Honey, hi.." She sighs, standing up and plastering on a smile.

"Frustrated?" He asks, gesturing to the papers scattered across the floor. He knew she didn't need them when she played, he wondered why they were even there.

"Yeah, sorry." Mason chuckles, walking up to him and sliding her arms around his waist in a hug.

"That's okay." He says softly, planting a kiss on the top of her head as he hugs her back. "We've got that dinner and party tonight, are you sure you want to go?."

"I want to go." Mason insists. It's a casual get together with Drew's OBX cast mates, and they promised they would go. It will be the first time he's seen them since the series finished filming relatively recently, and Mason wouldn't want to take that from him. "Besides, I feel like I'm rotting away in this room. I've got to get out." She chuckles, looking around at the messy space.

"Alright. We don't have to stay long, just make an appearance and talk to a few people and then we'll come back, yeah?" Drew says, not wanting to push her, but he does really want her to go, to get out and see their friends who he knows she's very comfortable with. After all, him and Este have been planning this night for a month now.

Mason nods a little against his chest, pulling out of his arms and gently patting his shoulder as she brushes past him, going to start getting ready.

She's eased herself back into events and public appearances slowly, understanding that life must go on- somehow. Especially when she has so many people waiting on her, looking up to her, even if they've kept what happened almost totally private. Besides their close friends and family, including their friends on the cast- which is the only thing Mason is dreading about this.

"I'm scared they're going to be weird." She says to her fiancé as he drives them towards the restaurant.

"What do you mean?" He asks, tilting his head a little bit as he focusses on the road, one hand on her thigh in the passengers seat.

"I haven't seen them since before mom passed- I just don't want things to be like... different. I don't know." Mason sighs.

"They'll be fine." Drew assured her. "Besides, if you're even a little bit uncomfortable, we'll leave. Just tell me and we'll go, okay?"

Mason nods, swallowing as they pull up to the building. At least it's her favourite restaurant, and she knows she can have her favourite food, if nothing else good comes from the night. They park in the back lot, ready to go in through the back door of the space which is closed to the public for the night. She hops out and grabs her bag from the floor of the vehicle, along with a few gift bags she put together for everyone in the main cast. She couldn't make it to the official wrap party, so she wanted to say congratulations to them all while she had everyone in one place.

Drew wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk up to the building, giving her a gentle squeeze as the door is opened for them and they walk in. It's dark, and quiet, and Mason chuckles a little in confusion as Drew leaves her side, and suddenly the colourful lights flick on- giving the girl a semblance of vision in the previously pitch black restaurant.

"Happy birthday Mason!" A cheering fills her ears as she processes all their friends standing in front of them as all the tables are cleared. A smile crossed her face and she laughs, shocked too see that this is all for her.

"Happy birthday, love." Drew is with her again, reaching for the bags in her arms. "Here, let me take these..." As soon as her arms are free there's someone throwing their arms around her shoulders.

"It's not even my birthday." Mason chuckles, hugging her best friend back.

"Oh please, it's close enough, Mace." Este replies, rubbing her back. "We just love you, and want you to feel celebrated."

"Thank you, Este." She whispered, pulling away carefully with a weak smile on her face. There was only a few days before her birthday, and she had completely pushed the idea of it out of her mind.

"Now, come on, let's get you a drink!" Este is quickly ushering Mason along, not wanting to give her a chance to overthink anything.

Drew chuckles as they quickly walk off, placing the bags of gifts for his cast mates on a table pushed up against the wall.

"Drew." Madelyn grabs his attention and he turns around to look at her.

"Hey, Mads, how are you?" He smiles, giving her a quick hug.

"I'm good! Thank you for inviting us." She smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm good! Yeah. Everything's great. Well, good. We're going day by day." He shrugs, knowing what she was really asking.

"Good. That's really the best you can do." Madelyn nods, looking over her shoulder at Mason and Este at the bar. "Is Mace doing okay? I've reached out but she doesn't want to talk much."

Drew sighs as he follows her eyes over to his fiancé. "Yeah, I mean, she doesn't want to talk to anyone these days. Please, don't take it personally."

"No, no of course not. That's what I assumed." Madelyn nods, watching as JD and Rudy greeted Mason with a hug, careful of the drink in her hand. "If I can ask, any updates on the wedding?"

Drew shakes his head, looking down now. "Not really. She just wants to keep pushing it back and back."

Madelyn furrows her brow, detecting the frustration hidden in his tone, even with his slightly half-hearted laugh. "She'll be ready one day- but I get it. I couldn't imagine having to plan a wedding without my mom. Forget standing there on the best day of my life knowing my mom isn't there to celebrate with me." She frowns, shaking her head just at the idea of it. "Just, be patient with her."

"I know..." Drew agrees quietly. "I'm trying, truly."

"She's lucky to have you." Madelyn smiles at him, patting his shoulder again.

At that, she walks off to greet Mason, watching her words carefully and trying to be as normal as possible. Este made it so clear to the group before the couple arrived that they need to be mindful about what they say about her mom. After all, they had all written up and signed a card for her when they first heard the news, so follow-up conversation about the topic at her birthday party was hardly necessary.

Mason was quick to hand out the gifts she brought for everyone, and after she opened all of hers, Drew had them sent out to the car while they said their goodbyes. Mason had fun the last couple hours, but just wanted to get home by this point.

They step outside, and unfortunately are greeted by cameras flashing at them from the outside of the makeshift barricade.

"Mason! Did you call off the engagement?" Someone shouts, and she just shakes her head, keeping it down as they beeline for their vehicle.

"Mason! How are you coping with your moms death?" A different voice yells, seemingly upset that they're all just being ignored.

"Just get in the car." Drew mumbles to her, keeping his arm protectively around her side until he could open the door for her, quickly closing it.

"Drew! Does it bother you that she keeps moving the wedding?" He tries to ignore all the shouting as he makes it to the drivers side.

"Drew, are you feeling lucky you won't have to put up with a mother-in-law?" The follow up question comes and he snaps, slamming the door he had just opened to get in and pacing angrily over to the photographer.

"Hey! Watch your mouth or you'll never sell another picture again- hear me?" He shouts, getting up in their face as cameras flash at him from seemingly every direction. "Leave us alone- I swear you'll regret it if you don't."

He shakes out his clenched fist and turns to walk away, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already has. He's quick to get in the vehicle and slam the door again, quickly turning it on as Mason hides the tears streaming down her face with one of the gift bags.

Security blocks off the group of people so they could exit safely, driving home to escape reality for a while again.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @alimaythings, @chenslucy, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @ragingsammie, @suzyheartsrafe, @dee127

join my taglist here

#drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #obx fanfic #drew starkey blurb #Spotify

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beautifulchris · 9 days

Text

trainwreck

pairing: choi lia x gn!reader

summary: sometimes, relationships are meant to end

genres: angst, lovers to exes!au, good ending?

wc: 1,1k

tw: lia is a bad girlfriend, swearing

notes: hello everyone! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics (ignore the mentions of a dress and 'boy'), banner made by me on canva. also!! idk if you'll notice, but this one is also based on two other songs from anne-marie c: happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You meant to say this for a while now, and today was the day you finally gathered the courage to verbalize the thought.

“What do you mean?”

The words that flew past her lips were nonchalant, like she was completely relaxed. Sitting up, she had her arms and legs crossed and a seemingly emotionless face. At least, that was the face you knew she made when unimpressed.

“I mean… that I want to break up with you.”

In contrast, you were so nervous you could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and sweat was running down the sides of your face. Her reaction didn’t ease you either.

“Okay.”

Was it all you meant to her? After everything, it looked like it didn’t faze her at all. Saying you weren’t hurt would be a lie.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What? Did you think I’d get on my knees begging you to stay? If you want to leave, go, the door’s wide open” she stated as she gestured towards the front door of her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to come back. Cause I know you will eventually. You know what? I give you two weeks at most.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did those hostile yet detached words really left her lips effortlessly?

You grabbed your bag and left her place without delay, whispering to yourself: “I won’t.”

Choi Lia has been an important person in your life, yes.

You loved her intensely and sincerely for many months, but soon, mostly thanks to your friends, you started to acknowledge the little details. Minimal at first, but, over time, they grew bigger until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

She’d look into your phone whenever you’d leave the room without it, subtly mock you in front of her friends, cancel numerous dates to go to parties instead, order take-away when she was aware you cooked for her…

You always put up with it because you loved her, but letting her go, albeit painful, was the best thing you could’ve done for your own health.

Called up my friends, took their advice Put on a dress, I'm out tonight I can't believe I said goodbye Oh yeah, this time you know, I finally let you go, yeah

It had been three days since you put an end to the relationship. Of course your friends would take you out on a Friday night.

The party was chill. There were around twenty people, refreshing cocktails, good background music and board games.

Lia didn’t come to mind once, much to the delight of your dear friends.

You actually made some new acquaintances, which was nice.

Spending more time with your friends, they saw the difference in your behavior.

“You look happier, Y/N,” one of them informed you.

“You smile and laugh more, you seem more alive,” another one added.

You felt it, too. You felt free from her. Her claws. Her grip on you.

I don't know why you thought that I'd be sheddin' a tear When I'm chillin' at the party, and I'm glad you're not here And I don't know what to say, but the pain disappeared And I'm sorry Bet you think I'm a trainwreck, upset Friday night, layin' lonely in my bed Truth is, boy, I'm so fuckin' happy Without you

Life went on.

A month later, Lia was on her couch, a drink in hand. It was dark in her apartment.

“Why haven't they come back already?”

She was fidgeting, her lips pressed together and her brows furrowed.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

Her phone rang in the deafening silence, making her flinch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Of course, Y/N would call instead of coming unannounced.”

She answered the phone with a confident smirk, ready to hear your begging.

“I put all your stuff in a bag. Do you have a moment this week so we could trade?”

Lia’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

“Also, don’t forget to give me back the keys to my place. I feel uneasy knowing you still have them. Not like you came often, anyway.”

It was her turn to be too stunned to speak. How could you be so apathetic? It wasn’t like you to use this tone when talking to her. She stared at the wall with an open mouth.

“I’ll wait for your message, then. Hanging up.”

Before Lia could protest, the call was over. She sat there, not moving for a while, thoughts twirling in her mind.

So pour yourself another drink Sit on your couch and overthink In all your lies and arrogance, I've been alright, you know So glad you let me go, yeah

Your ex-girlfriend finally gave you a time and place to meet. Without much surprise, it was at her place. Seeing her again after so long was not as painful as you thought it would be—not as painful as Lia hoped it would be.

She had to face the fact you changed. You weren’t the easily manipulated, sweetly naive and blindly in love person anymore. Much to her dismay.

“Here,” you handed her the bag, expecting another one in return.

Instead, she took a step back and offered for you to come in. “Want something to drink?”

“No?” With furrowed brows, you crossed your arms. “Give me back my stuff, please.”

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin with your free index finger. “As a matter-of-fact, no, I don’t. I just want my stuff and leave this place forever.”

“Well… I…” Not finding anything concrete to say, she sighed loudly.

Reluctantly, she grabbed the bag from the ground behind her and put the handle on your outstretched hand, before taking hers out of your other hand.

“You don’t mind me checking, right?”

She slowly shook her head, eyes unfocused, even if you didn’t wait for her approval. The key was there, that was all you cared about. Wait, no, there was a cute outfit you forgot about, too.

You thanked her and left. She called out for you, but you didn’t turn around. “Erase my number!”

It wasn’t said with a negative tone, but Lia took it like a stab in the back. Which was really audacious coming from her.

She just couldn’t believe you left her without a second thought and didn’t come back like she was convinced you would.

And now we're at the final stop And I'm the one that's gettin' off I know you hope I'm cryin', but I'm doin' just fine

She was now part of your past. Unerasable, of course, but peaceful.

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Note

Your blog theme is delicious, oh my gosh perfect red wintery aesthetic!

For blurb prompt could you do Carol Danvers and something cute and funny/silly I don't really have any other prompt idea, I dunno if that's enough for you to go off of?

thank you so much!! i love the winter aesthetic so much :)

and i hope this is kind of in the vein of what you wanted! i had fun writing it, and it's just pure fluff!

words: 884

summary: after you get a call to come pick up your too-drunk girlfriend, there's a slightly humorous misunderstanding at the bar.

carol danvers masterlist

Too Drunk To Function

You were just getting ready to turn the lights off and get to sleep when your phone started ringing, and a picture of your girlfriend showed up with the caller ID. You were slightly puzzled as you accepted the call, and you expected to hear just the sound of thumping music in the background because she accidentally butt-dialed you from the bar.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, thank god!” Natasha’s voice was the one on the other end of the line, which only added to your growing confusion. Why would she be calling from Carol’s phone? “I know you said you didn’t want to come out with us tonight, but can you come get Carol? We had a mixup with the designated driver but she’s too drunk to just wait it out and needs to get home ASAP.”

You could hear shouting in the background of the call, and had to stifle back a laugh. You knew that Carol could get loud when she was drunk, and it sounded like tonight was no exception to that. “Yeah, I can come pick her up,” you said. “Do you want me to take you guys back to the compound too?”

“No, don’t worry about us!” Natasha said, raising her voice so that you could hear over the voices behind her. “I think Wanda wants to hit another bar anyway.”

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll leave right away, it shouldn’t take too long.” Once you had the address of the bar your friends had gone to, you headed out to the car.

As you walked through the door of the club and looked for your girlfriend, you couldn’t help but wonder what state you would find everyone in. You weren’t really someone who went out and partied too often, which is why you had originally planned to sit tonight out with a movie and maybe do a face mask back at the compound. But Carol really wanted to go out, so she tagged along with Natasha, Wanda, and Maria for a night of bar-hopping, something you were too tired for tonight anyway.

Even if you weren’t looking too hard, it was impossible to miss Carol. She was standing against the wall and downing what you could only assume was one more drink than she needed this evening, but also taking the time to shout some of the lyrics to the song playing over the bar’s speakers (not very accurately, but she was trying). Natasha waved you over, and you immediately slipped your hand into your girlfriend’s slightly sweatier one. “Come on honey, I’m here to take you home.”

“Nooooooo,” Carol said, the slur in her words yet another piece of undeniable evidence about her inebriated state. “I can’t go home with you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “And why is that?”

You fully expected her to say something about needing another drink, but what actually came out of her mouth took you by surprise. “I have a girlfriend, I can’t go home with some random person I don’t even know.”

Natasha laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but see the humor in it too. “Babe, it’s me,” you said gently, reaching towards her face to try and gently turn her head in your direction.

“No!” she said, pulling away from your grasp. “I love my girlfriend very much and she’s at home right now, you need to get away from me!”

“Carol, it’s Y/N,” Natasha said playfully, gently tapping her on the shoulder and still trying to hide her laughter. “Stop being so difficult, she came all this way to get you.”

“Yeah, you know Y/N! I love her very much and I would be a bad girlfriend if I let some random person take me home right now even if nothing happened and they were being a good citizen,” Carol slurred.

“Babe!” you said, squeezing her hand tightly and finally getting her to look at you. “It’s me. I’m the one here to take you home.”

Realization flashed in your girlfriend’s eyes, and she immediately wrapped you in a crushing hug. “Babyyyyyy! I love you sooooooooooo much it’s not even funny, and some random person was trying to take me home but I told them to get lost because I love you so much and-”

“I love you too,” you managed to wheeze out, cutting off her very spirited (and long-winded) explanation. “But I think I should really get you home right now, or you’re going to feel even worse tomorrow.”

Carol muttered something you couldn’t hear, but you assumed it was some kind of rebuttal. However, she allowed you to gently herd her out of the bar and towards where you had parked, so whatever she said couldn’t have been that bad. You would definitely have some fun with her tomorrow when she inevitably asked you what had happened the previous night.

She placed a slightly slobbery kiss on your cheek as you stepped outside into the chilly night air, and you just smiled at her. And you had almost made it to the car with Carol in tow when she pulled away from you and promptly threw up in the nearest trash can.

Well, maybe you would leave some details of the night out tomorrow morning. She probably wouldn’t want to remember that experience.

- the end -

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x you #carol danvers fanfiction #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction

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apureniallsource · 11 months

Text

Niall Horan is more than Mr Nice Guy

Three years after his last release, the 29-year-old singer has jumped feet first into the spotlight to promote third album The Show, which lands on 9th June.

“I’m more excited than I thought I would be,” Horan says of his return, a quiet confidence lingering. With outstretched legs, the double-denim-clad singer lounges in his chair, decanting still water from a glass bottle, as we settle in for our chat in his luxury London hotel suite. A high-pitched giggle ripples through him when two builders, dawdling on a pulley lift, nab his attention through the window, before he apologises for losing eye contact. “I’m revved up, but I’m nervous. I hope I didn’t waste 18 months writing something for people not to like it.”

Those 18 months in question were spent, in part, during the coronavirus lockdown, which acts as inspiration for many of the introspective lyrics on The Show. It was the first time in a decade that the singer had, well, nothing in his schedule, allowing time to contemplate his meteoric rise to fame. “There’s no heartbreak stuff [on this album], so there needed to be a new concept. The only good part of the pandemic for me was that I was actually happy being still. I had time to breathe; I realised it doesn’t have to be a thousand miles an hour all the time.”

For the uninitiated, the first six years of Horan’s career were spent in the extraordinarily successful band, One Direction. Originally from Mullingar, Ireland, Horan auditioned for X Factor as a solo artist in 2010, later forming a five-piece alongside Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik. What followed was unparalleled success, multiple award wins and huge stadium gigs. “I loved touring, but it was fucking crazy,” Horan muses now. “We’d go to countries and never see a second of it - it was hotel, venue, plane, same again. We couldn’t get out the [hotel] door. If you went out in the car, you’d be seen and chased [by fans]. I understand why it was going on, but it gave me a thing where, when I came back to London, I would be afraid to go out. There was a period where I actually couldn’t.”

1D announced their hiatus in 2016, and Horan released his first solo album, Flicker, the following year. His second, Heartbreak Weather, came in 2020. Three years later in February, he dropped The Show’s sparkling lead single, ‘Heaven’, taking to social media to celebrate.

“I was lying in bed when management texted to say the song was out, so I checked Twitter. The numbers were fucking nuts. I was up for hours seeing what people were saying.” Horan generally views social platforms as a tool for fun, and mainly use them to engage with followers. “Sometimes I type my name in to see tweets I’m not tagged in. If I see the fans talking about me without tagging me, I’ll reply. [My TikTok ‘For You Page’] is full of people doing dances to my songs, golf, and mid-century modern furniture. I like winding people that don’t like me up. I get such a laugh. I also try to reply to people who ask genuine questions about the music, or what I’m up to.”

With 14 years in the public eye under his belt, Horan has also seen a darker side of the internet. “I’ve [read that I’ve] been in car crashes that I wasn’t in. I’ve been in three or four fake ‘PR stunted’ relationships. What’s the old phrase? It’s tomorrow’s chip paper. I care about what the fans think, but there’s always going to be people… who would never say a thing like that to your face, because they’re cowards.”

As our time together rolls on (me looking at Horan, Horan looking at the procrastinating builders), his genuine charm reverberates around the giant hotel room. A chatty openness takes the conversation from his favourite true crime documentary (The Jinx) to tips for long haul flights (green noise) and best skincare advice (facial steaming). It’s this endearing, positive aura that makes his Nice Guy Reputation™ legitimately easy to believe. But what’s his secret?

“Don’t be a prick?” Horan jokes. “There’s no secret to that. Just don’t be one. My Irishness? My humble upbringing? This is like some kind of questionnaire. A combination of a few things. Carefree attitude?”

Horan laughs off the suggestion that he’s going to dinner parties with groups of celebrities, instead insisting he has “two really good [industry] friends, and a tight circle of old mates. People have this idea that all famous people are friends. But you’re not friends with everyone in your office, are you? I remember seeing Channing Tatum on a plane. I’d never met the guy in real life, but he waved. We were laughing later. He was like, ‘I felt like I had to do the token ‘celebrity to celebrity’ kind of moment.’”

One person Horan has connected with on a deeper level is Lewis Capaldi. “He’s just a diamond geezer,” Horan says, before sharing a better-than-average imitation of a Scottish accent. “There’s not a bad bone in his body. He’s a solid friend, and he also happens to be one of the funniest fuckers you’ve ever met in your life. We’re in a lot of WhatsApp groups together.” Horan also reached out to fellow Irishman Paul Mescal, when Normal People came out. “He’s a nice fella. When he first moved to London, I talked to him a bit. But then the pandemic happened, and we never spoke again.”

The singer briefly touches on his relationship with Amelia Woolley, who he’s been with since 2020. On whether he has a romantic side, Horan says, “I think so. I wouldn't say I’m like ‘rose petals on the floor’ type of romantic, but I'm good at caring. I'm good at making dinners and the day-to-day stuff." On love languages, he adds, "I’m good at words of affirmation and I’m good at touch.”

Album release aside, 2023 also marks Horan’s 30th birthday, with the singer entering his third decade in September. “I’m excited for it - I’ve heard your 30s are the best time of your life,” Horan says, enthused. “I’ve never been one of those people to overthink timelines. I hope I don’t age too much!” On plans for the next decade, he's thoughtful for a moment. “I’d like to still be doing this, going around the world, still playing to thousands of people. I’d like to win a Grammy. I’d like to be happy. And to still have decent skin.”

Better keep at the steaming, then.

#niall horan #cosmopolitan uk #07june

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years

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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Eight (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

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Masterlist

Word Count: 5.8K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: Alright so I know that you all said that you like the longer word counts but I did have to cut this chapter in half cause it was getting ridiculously long. Like I'm talking 13K long. Also I was getting a bit behind with my writing and by splitting it I'll be able to upkeep my once a week schedule of posting. This also means that my plan of limiting myself to 10 chapters has gone out the window. Now I'm thinking it'll be about 12-13 (hopefully). My writing just really has a mind of its own sometimes. Anyway, no spoilers for the chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy it. I've nearly finished writing this series and I'm kind of getting super sad about it but all of your nice comments and likes make it all worth it. As always, love you all!

Corroded Coffin is the name on everyone’s lips this week after they blew the judges away at Fort Wayne’s Battle of the Bands. Their original song ‘Na Na Na’ saw an electrifying combination of a wild tempo, masterful guitar playing and barbaric lyrics that had the crowd going wild. After having played a cover of Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ in the competition’s first round, their original song took the judges by surprise, solidifying their placement in the semi-finals. 

Eddie Munson was many things and easily excitable was one of them.

And yet today, as he drove down the familiar streets heading towards the Hideout, he was practically bouncing in his seat, the music from the radio playing at an almost ungodly volume level as he roughly banged his hands upon the steering wheel to the beat. The smile that was perched across his lips—so full and wide that it was starting to hurt his jaw—had been fixated in place since the morning, Eddie seemingly incapable of ridding himself of it. The further he drove, the more excited he became until his heart was practically beating out of his chest as he pulled into the parking lot of the Hideout, his stomach alight with butterflies.

He was giddy. There was simply no other word for it.

Because although he had visited the Hideout once a week for as long as he could remember, and although he had already been before specifically to see you play, this time it was different. This time it was so very different for one simple reason; you had invited him.

And whilst that thought in itself was enough to make him practically dance across the parking lot, it was the message that lingered behind it that had Eddie so happy. Inviting him meant that you wanted to see him again. Inviting him meant that the date had gone well enough that you might—if he was lucky—consider the possibility of a second one. Inviting him meant that, even after that awkward silence had lingered between you when he had pulled away from the kiss, even though everything had felt like it was normal when you had eventually put on Top Gun and Eddie had been unsuccessful in changing your opinion on the film, maybe everything had been fine after all.

So when Eddie eventually entered the queue of people that were all waiting in line just to see you, he did so willingly. He waited his turn and when he was eventually let inside, he carefully shuffled through the throngs of people—still slightly shocked at the size of the crowd—and made his way towards the front; towards you. Upon his entrance he saw only a sliver of your figure as you plugged your guitar into the amplifier beside you before his view was encumbered by someone stepping in front of him. But now, as he slowly found his way through, the image of you standing up upon the stage still managed to take his breath away; it still managed to make his soul leave his body.

And then your eyes were catching his, your lips upturning instantly into that smile that Eddie had grown to adore. It was wide and it was genuine and it was directed right at him; it was all his, and—he so hoped—it was because of him. He found himself smiling back just as enthusiastically as his hands connected with the stage and he leaned forwards, his smile only widening as you placed your guitar down, traversed the few steps that remained between the two of you and folded yourself downwards until you were practically eye to eye. As you crouched, your hands came around to hug your knees, and for just a moment Eddie couldn’t quite help himself from marvelling at the cuteness of the action. For now your face was inches from his, your smiles still mirroring each other’s.

“Hello there,” Eddie whispered into the space between you, and although the ruckus of the crowd was well and truly pertinent, for just a moment it was as if only the two of you existed within the room.

“You came,” you said.

“Of course I came.”

You shrugged, the curve of your lips changing ever so slightly to become something more toying.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d get sick of seeing bands play that are better than yours.”

Eddie smiled coyly. He wanted to reach forwards and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to pull you into him. He wanted to tickle you until that devilish smile was wiped from your face and you were begging for him to stop. But he didn’t. Partly because you were still suspended slightly above him upon the stage and partly because he was surrounded by a very dense and a very tightly compact crowd of people. So instead he could do nothing other than lean slightly more forward until your lips were practically touching.

“Don’t get too cocky now, sweetheart. We’ve both made it into the semi-finals.”

The announcements had been made a few days prior, and Eddie—who had been practically glued to the porch step of his trailer with his eyes fixated upon the small hill where the postman would crest—had thought of little else since Corroded Coffin’s name had been on that list. And then, right next to it, had been your band’s name, and Eddie’s smile had somehow gotten wider.

But then there had been the date and the kiss and the screening of Top Gun where you had thrown popcorn at each other and Eddie had still found kernels in his hair days later, and everything else had just seemed to pale in comparison.

“Well everyone’s gotta do some charity work now and then.”

“You wound me,” Eddie said, pounding his fist into his heart and pretending to be hurt just to get that little laugh to spill from your lips. It did, and Eddie smiled.

“Y/N,” Robin called from behind you. You turned to look at her, flashed her a smile, and then turned quickly back to Eddie.

“Gotta go,” you said.

But before you pulled away, before Eddie had time to do anything other than continue to stare up at you, you were suddenly leaning down even further towards him, your hair falling slightly in front of your face. The kiss that you placed on his cheek was fleeting, barely there at all, and yet the touch and the warmth and the presence of your lips against his skin caught him wholeheartedly by surprise so that when you pulled away, Eddie found himself quite incapable of moving. And then you were leaving, that familiar scent of your perfume lingering in your shadow so that Eddie lingered along with it for just a little while longer.

It was only after the last fragments of you had left that Eddie finally realised someone was calling his name. He turned and found Gareth’s familiar face grinning up at him.

“Hey, man!” Gareth exclaimed as Jeff came into focus beside him. Eddie tried to pretend like he had remembered he invited them along, but then they were dragging him into the crowd and then a drink was in his hand and then there was the sound of your electric guitar as it filled the room, and Eddie got lost in it.

There was some Madonna and some Smiths and of course some Abba covers. Eddie enjoyed them all more than he would ever willingly admit. He watched as your fingers strummed across the strings of your guitar and as your hips swayed slightly to the music and as your lips brushed up against the microphone with each lyric. Eddie’s attention only ever waivered from you when Gareth or Jeff leaned over to say something to him or when he had been caught off guard at the sight of Dustin Henderson standing before him, apparently in the accompaniment of Steve Harrington who was also supposedly somewhere in the crowd.   

But through it all, Eddie found himself always coming back to you, the sight of you upon that stage still managing to take his breath away. So when everything started to turn to shit it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

Eddie had been watching you as he had been doing for most of the set as you played the last song of the night. It was a cover by some band he had heard on the radio, not an original like you usually did, and whilst this information disheartened him somewhat, he enjoyed the performance nonetheless. Gareth and Jeff were beside him, talking about something Eddie was too distracted to listen to, and maybe if you had not been so very captivating upon that stage he might have realised how conspiratorial their talking was, bending down to whisper in each other’s ears as they kept glancing over to the back of the staged area. Dustin had returned at one point, he was quite sure, but he left just as quickly, that signature smirk of his spread across his cheeks that in hindsight should have worried Eddie more than it did.

But then the song was finishing as the last few notes from your guitar reverberated around the room, the crowd’s cheers overpowering it. And you were smiling back at all those people just like you always did and Eddie could do nothing but bask in its glow. He barely noticed when the stage lights dimmed or when the crowd began to trickle out.   

It was Gareth who brought him out of his reverie, a wide grin plastered across his features as he hastily made his way towards Eddie.

“We did it, man,” Gareth said, and by the way he was looking around and lowering his voice, Eddie couldn’t quite help the furrow of his brows.

“Did what?”

And then it was Gareth’s turn to furrow his brows, rolling his eyes slightly as he quite unsubtly moved the flannel of his shirt to the side to show Eddie the item tucked into the belt of his jeans. It all seemed to happen so fast after that so that later, when Eddie replayed the series of events over and over in his mind, he still wasn’t quite sure that he had remembered it right.

There had been your notebook hidden under Gareth’s shirt. There had been the choked cough that had struggled its way out of Eddie’s throat in surprise, his eyes going wide as he saw the item. There had been Eddie’s quick fingers as they snatched the notebook from Gareth, and then Gareth’s subsequent confused expression.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hissed, looking up quickly to where you were talking with Meg on the stage.

“We were just talking about this! You said you were struggling with that chorus for the new song at band practice last week so Jeff thought we could look around in that chick’s book for some ideas.”

Although Gareth wasn’t speaking all that loudly and although there was still a low hum of conversation that filled the room as people continued to leave, Eddie so wished that Gareth would just shut up. He was sweating now, his heart beating so violently fast. There were too many people around him, too many people that he knew and that you knew. Too many people that would recognise the book that Eddie was currently holding to his chest.

The notebook.

In all honesty he had forgotten he was holding it, but now, as he gripped it between his sweating palms it was as if it was a flare shot high into the sky that would lead you back to all of his deceptions. Eddie looked up towards you again, his eyes going wide when your gaze met his. You offered him a kind smile and Eddie tried to return it. But the slight furrow in your brow showed that you weren’t convinced. You excused yourself from your conversation and traversed the last few steps to the lid of the stage where you gently jumped down from it.

Eddie thought it quite likely that he might pass out.

He shoved the notebook back at Gareth.

“Put it back where you found it,” he hastily said, trying to keep his eyes on your positioning but losing you in the crowd that was still leaving.

“What the hell, man? I was just trying to help.”

“By what? Stealing her lyrics?” Eddie was angry now, and he regretted the harsh tone that he uttered his words in if only because it seemed to aggravate the situation more.

Eddie looked up again, and there you were, mere steps away from him.

He could tell it was going to happen before it did.

Because Gareth wasn’t facing towards the stage. Gareth hadn’t seen your slow approach through the crowd. Gareth did what he was so very good at doing, what Eddie loved so much about him; Gareth tried to help. But he was angry now too. Angry at Eddie’s reaction. Angry that Eddie clearly hadn’t been listening when they had discussed this very plan only moments before. And so Gareth did what Eddie had always known him to do; he opened his big mouth.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? I was just trying to help you finish the songs for the competition so you didn’t have to date that chick anymore.”

Eddie stood witness to it all.

He stood witness as you halted in your tracks. As that beautiful, lovely smile of yours fell from your face in an instant. He stood witness as your posture stiffened, as your mind began whirring, as the pieces of the puzzle all began to fall into place.

And then, as he continued to look in your eyes, he saw more.

He saw the confusion and the apprehension and the denial of it all. There was the contemplation, the replaying of what you had just heard and the subsequent analysis of it. Then, finally, there was the disbelief, the anger, the acceptance. And behind it all, the sadness. It flooded your features, welled behind your eyes, consumed your entire being until it was all that Eddie could see standing before him. The sight broke his heart.

“Y/N-” he tried to say, but then you were stepping forwards, the anger now battling with the sadness so that the glare that you directed up at him betrayed tears behind your eyes. He hadn’t known what he had been expecting from the situation; maybe for you to run, maybe for him to have to chase you. But you stood unrelenting before him, and Eddie begun to realise that this version of events was worse, so much worse. Because instead of the sight of your tears, he was instead met with a glare of hatred so very powerful and so clearly directed right at him that for just a moment it was Eddie that felt like crying.

“Tell me it’s not true,” you whispered and yet still there was a slight crack in your voice.

Eddie thought about it. He considered lying, he considered the option of simply denying it all, of playing it off as just some joke. And maybe if he could do so convincingly enough, you would believe him. You would believe him and things would go back to how they used to be; to the smiles and the laughter and that one wonderful kiss the two of you had shared.

But as he looked down upon you and saw the slight sheen across your eyes, he knew he could not do it. You deserved the truth. You deserved something better than this; better than him. So Eddie continued to stand there and he continued to say nothing. Because he could not quite bring himself to admit it all to you, to see that sheen in your eyes turn to tears, to see the hatred behind your eyes solidify.

In the end his silence only acted as his confession. In the end it was all you needed to know the truth of it all.

A singe tear escaped from your eye and trickled down your cheek. Eddie watched it, his heart only breaking further. But then your hand was coming up, the movement of it a blur as it rushed towards his face, the palm of your hand connecting with the skin of his cheek. And it hurt. It hurt both in the sense that his cheek was now stinging and in the sense of what it meant. The slap was an ending; it was a conclusion, a consequence, a culmination of everything that Eddie had done. And as much as it hurt, he deserved it all, he thought as his gaze remained unwavering upon you.

There were tears now as they began to run freely down your cheeks. You did not hide them as you continued to glare up at Eddie and the sight of them had Eddie’s voice returning to him all at once. For although he had undoubtedly ruined everything, you deserved an explanation or an apology or anything at all that he could give you.

“Y/N, I-”

“I trusted you.”

Eddie expected the words to be venomous, but instead they were defeated, falling from your lips in barely a whisper. You were right, and that was what hurt the most. You had placed your trust in him and he had betrayed that trust. You had told him about your past, confided in him about the pain that you had hidden away. And he had turned around and gone and done the very same thing to you. He was just as bad as that guy from the basketball team. He was just as bad as Tommy H, and the thought made him repulsed by himself.

“Y/N, please, I can explain-”

But what was there to explain? You knew the truth, maybe not the whole of it, not the part where Eddie had grown to adore you, to cherish you, to think of nothing but the curve of your jaw and the softness of your lips whenever he was alone. You knew not of the way that you took his breath away every time he saw you or of the way his heart practically jumped out of his chest whenever your skin so happened to even brush against his.

And although Eddie knew that it might do nothing, although he was quite well aware that there was a very real possibility that you would only ever look upon him now with that same hatred in your eyes, your lovely smile merely a memory in his mind, he decided he would still try. But then before he could continue, before he could find the resolve to confess to you the very depths of what was in his heart, you were leaving. You were running now, running away from him as your hand came up to capture a sob that left your lips.

Eddie tried to follow. He thought maybe of grabbing your wrist or wrapping his arms around you as he had done in the diner and not letting go until you had heard everything he had to say. But his hands stayed by his side as you escaped and he made no move to follow, partly because he would always be at the whim of what you wanted, even if what you wanted was to get away from him, and partly because the figure of Steve Harrington was stepping in front of him now, blocking the last fleeting view that Eddie had of you before you pushed the back door of the Hideout open and left.

Eddie looked up and quickly came to realise that the air in the room was just as tense as he felt. The crowd had long since gone, the only figures remaining those he knew. There was the rest of your band still standing upon the stage, some trying to rush after you and some glaring venomously at him. There was Gareth and Jeff standing beside him, a bit further away now, having had at least enough common sense to look partly guilty as their gazes remained fixed to the floor. There was Steve Harrington standing before him and Dustin Henderson standing by his side, a look of concern crossing the boy’s features as he continued to look between Steve and Eddie.

“What did I tell you, Munson?” Steve said, his voice seething with anger.   

Eddie thought to himself that if Steve Harrington were to hit him he would not fight it. Because maybe the pain of getting punched might, for just a moment, quell the pain in his heart. But Steve did not swing, and somehow, that was worse.

Eddie collapsed into the chair that sat beside him, his hands coming up to cradle his face as he tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill. And although he could tell that everyone in the room was looking at him, Eddie couldn’t quite bring himself to care, too busy reimagining that look of hatred that had crossed your features as you had stared only at him.

---

One expects many things from having their heart broken.

There is of course the expectation that one will secrete copious amounts of tears. There is the expectation that one will consume all manner of unhealthy food, for maybe the deliciousness of junk might just distract the mind from the sadness that consumes it. There is the expectation that one will remain immobile for long periods of time, most commonly in a laid-back position and most commonly done so upon a bed or a couch that is hopefully also in close proximity to a television.

Of course, all these expectations came to fruition in the days following that fateful night at the Hideout. There was the inhalation of several pints of ice-cream, paired with the frequent and continuous viewings of whatever films Steve or Robin happened to bring over. There were the tears which fell so consistently and yet so sporadically so that, along with the aches of heartbreak, you were also plagued by the throbbing of a headache for most of your waking moments.

Yet there was one expectation that did not materialise, and it was somehow the lack of it that hurt all the more. For when one is betrayed in such a manner as you had been, you would expect there to be some semblance of an apology, or at least an attempt at one. And yet as you had lain upon the couch or your bed or—on a few occasions—the floor, only ever moving to fulfill a basic need to eat or relieve yourself, there had been nothing. Not a single phone call or a knock on the door that had not opened to find Steve or Robin on the other side.

You did not want to see him. In truth, you would not know what to do if you opened the door and it was Eddie standing upon its threshold. The sight of him would pain you, you were quite sure. For whilst you had so missed the sight of his unruly hair and the smell of his cheap cologne and the sound of his infectious laughter, when you thought of him now you thought only of those words that you had heard leave Gareth’s lips at the Hideout, and suddenly you couldn’t quite distinguish what had been real and what had been an act. It had all felt so genuine with Eddie whenever you had been within his presence; it had all felt so easy with him so that now even the fondest of memories that you tried so desperately to cling onto still brought tears to your eyes.

When you eventually did leave the confines of your house on the rarest of occasions—usually forcefully pulled out of it by Robin or having dragged yourself begrudgingly out of bed to head to work—it was so painfully easy to avoid Eddie Munson. In the end, it made you wonder how you had ever met him in the first place, and the thought only brought with it a fresh bout of tears.

So when you pulled up in the carpark of the competition’s venue, you did so with shaking hands, ragged breathing and a heart that was apparently trying its hardest to break itself out of the confines of your chest. Because there, only a few feet away from you, was the familiar sight of Eddie’s van, and the knowledge that you would undoubtedly have to see him again hit you all at once. But upon closer inspection, it became apparent that the van was empty.

The feeling of something touching your shoulder had you jumping in your seat, pulled from your reverie as you whipped your head around to find Robin looking at you. And whilst you had expected to find a look of sympathy or empathy or pity behind her eyes, instead you found only comfort. She was smiling at you, something devilish in the upturning of her lips so that you felt the corner of your own mouth begin to quirk upwards.

“Alright, listen up,” Robin spoke, grasping the attention of all of the girls within the car as Meg and Vicki leaned forwards from their places in the backseat.

“When we leave this car,” Robin continued, her voice just as firm. “I don’t want to hear a single thing about Eddie fucking Munson unless it involves the words ‘annihilate’ or ‘destroy’. Because that’s what we’re about to do to their pathetic little band.”

The curving of your lips had well and truly become a smile now as you looked upon the girl beside you, so invigorated and passionate as she spoke.

“We’re going to go in that damn building and we’re going play the best we’ve ever played and we’re going to get into the finals whilst Eddie Munson weeps from the audience because he’s realised he’s never going to be as good as us. And then we’re going to go home and get some damn milkshakes because we deserve them.”

A laugh escaped your lips now and the sound of it surprised you slightly as you came to realise that it was the first time you had laughed in well over a week.

“Have you thought about getting into motivational speaking, Robin? You’re surprisingly good at it,” you said with a smile, reaching over the centre console to grasp Robin’s hand within your own and squeeze it in thanks.

And then all of you were laughing as you finally exited the car, grabbing your instruments from the confines of the boot. As you began the walk over to the venue, you were surprised when Meg looped her arm within your own, not used to such displays of intimacy from the girl. But you were grateful for the touch, the feeling of her solid form beside you grounding you somewhat.

She leaned in close to you and whispered, “If he tries anything I will literally kick his ass.”

You couldn’t quite help the bark of laughter that escaped your throat.

“Thanks, Meg, but I think I’d rather we didn’t get disqualified for assaulting another contestant.”

“Well if you change your mind, just say the word.”

The hallway backstage was eerily quiet when the four of you entered, the usual ruckus made by the other bands no longer resounding throughout the space. With the semi-finals seeing only three bands still competing, this should not have come as such a shock, and yet the silence still managed to unsettle you as you made your way towards the green room.

Your walking was slow, hesitant even as Meg’s arm still remained wrapped within your own, your grip upon her tightening the further you went. For you knew that as soon as you entered the green room he would be there, and you could feel your hands beginning to shake at the thought. Your breath hitched in your throat as you crossed the threshold into the room, and although you knew you should have kept your gaze upon the floor, you couldn’t quite help yourself from instantly scanning the room.

There he was, draping himself lazily over a chair in the corner as he strummed absentmindedly at his guitar in his lap. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the end unlit and yet the stem drooping slightly as if he had been chewing upon it. He looked up as you entered, and as he did so the finger that had been about to strum the strings of his guitar fell slightly, causing a very off-key note to resound throughout the room. A deep blush arose upon Eddie’s cheeks as all eyes in the room turned towards him, but his gaze was still locked with yours. You felt like turning away, the intensity of his stare somehow both oddly comforting and slightly disconcerting, but you refused to give him the satisfaction by doing so. So you held his gaze until it was him that looked away, your head held high and your back straight even though all you felt like doing was turning right back around and leaving.

If there was a hint of sadness behind Eddie’s eyes, you chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, you made your way to the opposite corner and unslung your guitar case from around your shoulders. You could feel Eddie’s gaze return to you as you sat down and begun to tune your guitar, trying to pay him no mind and yet struggling to do so for you could feel the heat and the emotion and the unrelenting ferocity behind his stare so very clearly. It made you want to shiver, but you refrained from doing so.  

And then, as if the world had decided that you had not suffered enough, the third band still competing made their way into the room, the familiar sight of a cocky and condescending smirk entering with them. At the sight of it, you felt like screaming, but resigned yourself to a simple eyeroll and an annoyed grumble.

“Well if it isn’t my favourite groupies,” the boy called.

You couldn’t quite be bothered with a response and so chose not to provide one. Instead you simply continued tuning your guitar, your eyes downcast towards the tuning pegs. But the boy, whether he noticed your unwillingness to converse and decided to ignore or was simply too consumed in his own world to care about your silence, continued.

He did so by whistling.

“There’s more tension in here than a sinner in church. I’m glad to see you’re preparing yourself for losing, it’ll make it easier when it happens.”

The boy made his way towards you, throwing himself quite unceremoniously down into the seat beside you. You felt like responding now, although you refrained from releasing the string of expletives that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

“Or is it something else?” the boy continued, flicking his gaze between you and Eddie. “A lover’s quarrel? Trouble in paradise?”

Your fingers had stilled over the strings of your guitar, your hand gripping the stem so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You were trying not to engage, biting the inside of your cheek so hard that you tasted blood, and yet the boy would not relent. He leaned closer now, his breath tickling your neck so that you felt like recoiling away from him.

“Is he not treating you right? You know I could make you scream if you let me.”

You stood up at the same time that Eddie did, and for just a moment your gaze flickered over to him. He was seething with anger, his breathing short and ragged as his eyes remained fixated on the boy still sitting next to you. By his side, his hands were clenched into fists, the skin on his knuckles pure white. You had never seen Eddie so angry before—had, in all honesty, never imagined him capable of reaching such a level of hostility—so that you were altogether quite unsure of what would happen if the situation continued as it was. So you tore your gaze away from Eddie and turned to face the boy once more.

“Do you have a mental deficiency?”

Whatever the boy had been expecting you to say, that was certainly not it.

“What?” he scoffed.

“Do you have some sort of intellectual deficiency that makes it harder for you to understand others?” you repeated.

The boy scoffed again, looking over to his bandmates who were snickering by the door.

“No,” he eventually said.

“Oh, so you do know the meaning of the word ‘no’ then. I thought maybe something was getting lost in translation since you keep seeming to not understand me when I politely try to tell you to fuck off.”

Mike, Jeff and Gareth joined in on the snickering now, clearly trying and failing to hide their laughter as the boy turned his venomous gaze towards them.

“I am not your fucking groupie. I am a contestant in this competition, the same as you. And I know—god forbid—it must be such a shocker for you to have to compete with the likes of a woman since you seem to have the mental capacity of a caveman. But at this point your sexism is just stupid. Are you just ignoring the fact that my band has scored higher than yours in every round so far?”

The boy adjusted himself in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. The roll of his eyes left his gaze casting down to the floor, and you smiled slightly in triumph.

“So if you could please try your absolute hardest to do what every other band in this competition has seemed capable of doing and mind your own fucking business, that would be great.”

Without another word, you leaned down, moved your chair slightly over before sitting back down, pretending to return to the tuning of your guitar. In reality, your hands were shaking slightly and your heart was pounding out of your chest, but your act of indifference seemed to have the desired effect as the boy grumbled something under his breath, stood up, and defeatedly crossed the room over to where his bandmates were now outwardly laughing at him.

Eddie’s gaze burned your skin as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes fixated upon your guitar. And yet, as if something was drawing you right to him, you could not seem to stop yourself as your gaze flickered upwards for just a second. Eddie was still standing although his posture was more relaxed now. There was the slightest upward curve to his lips, although what semblance of a smile he was sporting never seemed to reach his eyes. For as you looked at him and as he continued to stare unwavering at you, there was nothing but a distinct sadness—something almost guilty—that was staring back.

In the end you had to turn away abruptly, something you refused to acknowledge bubbling up in your throat. And as you finally resumed the tuning of your guitar, the heat of Eddie’s stare lingered.

---

Taglist:

@alicetweven @juggernort @theh3aven @manamitoyota @mimiluvsualot @cherrypieyourface @kaqua @c0untryclub @goldencherriess @emotionaldreamer @givemethesleep @milkiane @miscreantsnopossoms @legendaryfestsoul-blog

Series Taglist

@grungegrrrl @thirddeadlysin @boomitsallie1 @renaroo123 @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul @annnnn91 @bakugouswh0r3 @aivilovio @wannabewiedzma

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #season 4 stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn x reader

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jiminguuk · 7 months

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Very long post ahead because I’m very irritated by the state of this tag. I have some thoughts. I wasn’t even going to say anything and just lurk, but Jungkook and Jimin have a very special place in my heart and I’m pissed

I think we as a society need to understand that shipping ≠ reality.

I know it’s easy to get caught up in the moments, the “evidence”, the chemistry. But you have to have a healthy dose of respect/common decency.

For example, when Taehyung said that thing to that taekooker (you know what I’m talking about). If I was clocked by bts in that regard I’d pass away. There is a line and you shouldn’t cross it.

As for the video, I’m skeptical of its legitimacy, but I’m not opposed to the idea of it being real. There’s absolutely no way of knowing if it’s true or fake without confirmation. Honestly, I think HYbe will probably ignore it and I know someone will say “it’s very telling they didn’t say anything” but really, it’s so fucking stupid.

1. The video was released very close to a release of a song (seems to be a trend) and my god that song should be the focus not the goddamn video. Whoever, whether true or not, got what they wanted.

2. It’s is insane the lengths people went through to prove it’s legitimacy/Debunk. It’s creepy, it’s terrifying. Imagine you’re Jungkook minding your business and seeing some ARMY in Ohio going through every inch of your apartment you’ve shown to prove it’s you in a grainy 144p video. What the fuck.

3. Hot Take Ahead: I’ve seen a lot of anons on different accounts asking questions/saying theories about jikooks relationship/status. Literally, what kind of fanfictional life do you think they live? “Oh I think it’s an open relationship, I think they broke up :/, it’s possible they are separated but still together” These are grown men. Who the hell cares besides Jimin and Jungkook. Who the fuck are you to dissect their entire bond to pinpoint moments you felt they may have been on “a break”. Have you thought perhaps, I don’t know, people are busy and are unable to interact the same way they did in 2015-2019? Or maybe they aren’t around each other as much in front of cameras? Their private lives, together or not, in a relationship or not is none of our business. It is so weird to me to make these kind of claims based on interactions you see/don’t see anymore. It’s like some people think it’s a damn show. Something I always enjoyed about Jikook is how close, cute and questionable they are. But not once have I thought to track their entire “relationship” and think “oh this is when they broke up” it’s literally a ship. It’s a pairing. I’m also a Yoonjin enthusiast and I have yet to see any kind of comments similar to the ones about Jikook. Shipping is supposed to be fun. It shouldn’t be dissected and analyzed to fit a narrative.

4. If I have to see one more post about JK being a fuck boy/ disrespectful to women or Jimin being heartbroken I’ll pull my hair out. How do you know? Song lyrics? Really? You think every single thing is connected to each other? It can’t be separate? Could Jimin be singing about a past relationship he was in not related to JK? Could JK’s songs be written for a western audience that thrives on that type of music? It would be great if we could separate art from ships. Not everything is about the ship, because quite frankly, I doubt they even think about it when creating shit. (I will say I did lose my mind over that JM tattoo in the seven MV lmafo, but that was because whenever I see it I gasp. I know the tattoo has been debunked or whatever but god it gets me in the feels) It’s must be so frustrating to be tied to a ship whenever you create a piece of art.

5. I’ll forever be a jikooker at heart for the fact I absolutely adore the pairing/ship. But I’m not going to sit here and pretend that they owe me the satisfaction of being true. I will take my crumbs and be happy because, really, that’s what it’s for. Everything from hickey gate to the fish in the clouds to the traveling around the globe for a birthday. Until proven otherwise, I’ll always have 👀 on them and continue to be a supporter but I’m not going to thrust my hand into believing that they are 100% together because I have absolutely no way of knowing it’s a fact.

Finally: 1. Who ft. Jikook never got the attention it deserved 2. Jimin is literally God reincarnated 3. Yoonjin is so Cam/Mitchell, Rei/Kazuki, Gojo/Nanami coded. Prove me wrong.

#jikook #kookmin #bts jeon jungkook #bts jimim #im so tired #i’m too old for this

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ghostboyjules · 1 year

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It appears the last two (2)….times I’ve tried creating this post, tumblr thought I was too wordy, so I’m going to attempt to get in and get out before it eats itself again

this playlist (a Dream of the Endless™ character examination via my silly brain and sad ass music) took me entirely too long and I'm going to throw my laptop out of the window if I have to look at it any longer so pls pls take it and I hope that if you listen or even read the lyrics that you find something new, or hear something you like.

This absolutely would not have ever seen the light of tunglr.hell if not for the beautiful souls of the Sandman fandom, and a few of my new friends and mutuals. So special internet cookies and hugs to these inspirational, encouraging, and beyond talented individuals; @wordsinhaled , @weirdfishy , @wizardofgoodfortune , and @xx-vergil-xx - i love y'all dearly and I hope this is even HALF of what you would have expected, or a quarter of the amazing content y'all have bestowed upon my lil eyeballs. Now Onward! to words that personally injure me!

Florence + The Machine -Too Much Is Never Enough

And the crown, it weighs heavy 'Til it's banging on my eyelids Retreating in covers and closing the curtains One thing's for certain, oh A year like this passes so strangely Somewhere between sorrow and bliss

Oh, who decides from where up high? I couldn't say "I need more time" Oh, grant that I can stay the night Or one more day inside this life

~I first encountered this song in it's source material FFXV, and there it destroyed me. Now, wearing my dumb lil blorbo glasses yet again, it is back with vengeance..goth royalty sad wet cat flavored (gross), vengeance. "too much is never enough" .... oh sweeties...

VIRA - God Complex

God, I could try To be the one To be the one I'll tear down the sky What do you want? I'll do it all for life My love, my alibi Tonight, tonight I'll try to do it for you

I'm gonna be where you are Doesn't matter how far Because we are meant to be I'm gonna be what you need Darling, please worship me Unless you prefer to plead

~pretty sure this is the angriest sounding song on this thing? but it is fitting.. and desperate.. and wanting and... painful. when she grits out 'try' and 'sky' the way she does.. god the emotion. this just brought to mind Dream and falling for someone hard enough to the point of destructive devotion...

AJJ - Body Terror Song

It will betray you Be used against you Then it will fail on you, my dear But before that, you'll be a doormat For every vicious narcissist in the world Oh, how they'll screw you all up and over Then feed you silence for dessert

~ I love seeing people explore the idea of Dream just...not vibing with being fully corporeal. At least not in the way he is while in the Waking.. what a mood, and especially after the fishbowl...whew.

Philip Wesley - Lamentations of the Heart

[Instrumental~]

~I wanted to include a few instrumental tracks in here and this one felt apt because I used to fall asleep to this album all the time. Like it was one of the only ones I could fall asleep to with any certainty. The feeling and title for this one tho struck me with Dream specifically so I went with it. The rest of the album is so nice though, highly rec.

Iris Lune - Paper Mache

Save me from myself I've been in the dark too long Paper mache love Make me believe that I can change Make me believe that I'm not strange At all

~ this song!! it sounds so so ethereal and her voice is GORGEOUS but the lyrics!! have mercy the lyrics! big ole owwie! "save me from myself" , "make me believe that I can change, make me believe that I'm not strange" hhhh (also if y'all couldn't tell, this will be dreamling flavored, I think I'll tag them too jic but. yes...)

Penny and Sparrow - A Kind of Hunger

tremble, recognize the distance Go try and murder every preference I’ll keep hangin' ‘round for reference come care about me come care about me

changing, watching you with wonder you’re less and getting even younger dying is just a kind of hunger come care about Me come care about Me

~this is... such a heavy song. hadn't heard it before starting this playlist but found it and immediately had to add it.. just. come care about me. changing, watching you with wonder. Dying is just a kind of hunger. that line specifically. -lays on the floor for 3hrs-

Carly Rae Jepsen - Gimme Love

Gimmie love (Oh) It's the way we are together (Oh) Wanna feel like this forever, forever (Oh) It's the way we are together And I never thought I'd ever say forever

~originally was gonna be a joke song to lighten the mood but haha! nope! I mean it is lighthearted but it still absolutely, in my mind, fits Morpheus. beautiful babygirl of the endless...smooch

Jon Bellion - Stupid Deep (Acoustic)

What if who I hoped to be was always me? And the love I fought to feel was always free? What if all the things I've done Were just attempts at earning love? Yeah 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, oh, stupid deep

~this song fucks me up! 😀 for real though, I highly suggest watching the acoustic performance of this that he has on youtube cause the vibe is so.. intimate and dreamy and gorgeous.. and the lyrics.. jon bellion, sir.. smh.. the ending..

Marika Hackman - Undone, Undress

They heard my heart for miles The air inside Was seeping out In silent shouts It crumpled in my chest

~this is definitely... a nightmarish..creeping kind of song, and the lyrics are, according to the Genius annotations, rather distressing but I don't really see them the same way. I can't really explain it but hopefully y'all will see what I mean. love this one specifically "Load me heavy, I can't bend. Break me better, so I won't mend" break me better.... hhhhhh

DBMK - Switchblade

Did you hear I coughed my heart out? It never fit me so I'm likely to drown My body yearns for something real now Suggesting kitchen counters, can openers, and close encounters to hold me down Ain’t no one's boyfriend, wow I'm busy up in my brain but they don't see anything, yeah

I open up too easily, look at me Single sided blade of insecurities, yeah I open up too easily, speak to me Cutting through my comfort like its misery, sad

~this. SONG. he just like me fr 😔 azdcafs nah, honestly idk if this is projecting, but to MEE I like to think about Dream being so ready for a partner, and he gives so so much of himself to them and loves so passionately but he also has just... so many issues. just ugh this song..

Blegh - His Hands

He feels handcrafted just for you But he's a little bit too far away and You can't, you can't His hands are on you And you know you'll be gone by the morning but you know he loves you And you know you like his strong hands, strong hands

You're too real for me You should go to something better I'll give you to someone better I have friends that'll be on earth for longer I have friends that won't feel like monsters

~another song that I was not prepared for before hand that ruined me so viciously, that I had to scream at multiple ppl about it, most of which were mentioned in this post, but Verg's reaction was very memorable because I believe she told me she was on public transportation and the way she phrased it had me rolling around on the floor. but yeah y'all just gotta hear this fuckin,... bear mace of a song (with your Dreamling Glasses™ on pls, as i believe it is meant to be asxacsgdcvc)

Agent Fresco - Wait for Me

I can’t see clear The rage of rivers roam every tear They all fall through vague and vast tunnels With hurts of hatred came blinding years Will they disappear?

I’m far away, treading a path I’ve made and it’s laid with stones of fallen love I need to feel and to make atonement before coming home

~-motions to song- I mean... c'mon... this alone? nah nah nah..I gotta lay down.

Talos - Endgame

I’m drawn across An empty space This dreamland now A tired waste O it’s the endgame

A blackout heart A seething truth There’s nothing in me Left for you We’re lies

~ Talos...Talos Talos Talos... y'all. if you don't know him, but like indie-ish electronic music with beautiful angelic Irishman vocals? pls... he makes me insane. He also just gives me Morpheus vibes in general, I'm not exactly sure why, but... I also think the cover art on his first two albums are very Morpheus energy, could just be me tho

Emma Ruth Rundle - Savage Saint

I held him, his whole life In my hands, in my heart

Don't be ever forgotten, Savage Saint Never draw blood in the garden, faint Don't be the name that's drawing shame and Never let your heart harden, little flame

~I knew I had to have Emma Ruth in here somewhere, but it took me a second to find the perfect song.. and I was torn between a few, but I saw this one and. Immediately my heart was out of my body. Thinking about Orpheus.. and Dream thinking about Orpheus.. draw blood in the garden,,, I held him his whole life.. in my hands in my heart.. little flame.. it seems I am upsetti spaghetti.

Sleeping at Last - Neptune

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how

~Sleeping at Last my beloved <3 ... if I could snort 'atlas pt 1 the album' I fuckin would. also there's a song on there for literally any blorbo. i could bet my life on that. somewhere on there! "if brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece" ah hah.. hahaha..

Sea Power - Want To Be Free

Now we're under the stars Smoking cigars On top of a motorcar Hanging out Like some kind of nebula We

Want to be free Want to be free It will last forever Eternally

~this one was more for vibes and because it's beautiful, but also if I think too hard about Morpheus and how he just wants to be normal and rest for a little while, then I will have to go eat a whole bag of chocolate chips and cry myself to sleep.

Clem Turner - Divine Loser

"Connect yet stay opaque," I cannot have it both ways Please do not tell the time I can't be trusted with the date

My god, you break the skin But may I be thy heaven? Will you take my sickness While I deprive you of your health?

~haha Divine Loser..defo Morpheus (jk. or am I) that second part I included.. I keep having to re-read those lyrics, cause.. my goodness. there's a part later that says "baby just let me bleed in peace" like... whoof. Clem Turner is the only person on here twice, mostly cause these two songs are just so phenomenal I had to and the lyrics... SHMACK.. and Clem's VOICE?? pardon me?

Clem Turner - Honeywell

Get it through your pretty head Take me with you instead Forget her, she's gone So, tell me, dear stranger What's got you distraught?

Mm, here I am to bring Psychosomatic freedom to your head May I be of service, newlywed? See me as a host to all your greatest dreams And then some change As long as your compassion stays the same

~"So tell me, Dear Stranger, what's got you so distraught?" Um..is that in a dreamling fic, cause... 👀 and then "see me as a host to all your greatest dreams and then some change, as long as your compassion stays the same." running in circles, sobbing, hopping out my window, running into the woods...etc

Mustapha Kamel - Can You Feel Me

[Instrumental~]

~ this song just makes me -lays face down in the carpet for 2+ hrs- and the cello is gahdamn gorgeous..

The New Basement Tapes - When I Get My Hands On You

When I come home to you Gonna take you down to the riverside When I come home to you Hold you in my arms all night

And now you know Everywhere on earth you go You're gonna have me as your man

~ Mushy Dream Rights!!! let this inconceivable being be a sap!! I love seeing him clingy and sweet and so so in love and just AAAHHH I could literally weep, I love this weird scrungly man.

Glass Animals - JDNT

I'm all armored up I've got my old helmet on Keeping out an eye Puffing all my feathers up One more little blow One more tap and I collapse

~heehee another nightmarish song. not only is this a fuckin BANGER, but Glass Animals has such a.. Sound. that's dreamlike most of the time, but sometimes can be so.. tense and creepy, and the lyrics can be violent and just downright odd. mostly from the zaba album, but regardless. I could talk about Dream + Glass Animals for hours, as proven with N (@wordsinhaled) because we have done exactly that, I think twice now lolololol (also I thought the line abt the helmet was.. hehe funny)

ABRA - Pride

Palms up, no crown You wanna mess around I wanna hold you down It's not okay I need you everyday

I lost all the pride That I thought I could keep Can you see me Say you feel me It's a big world But I fall at your feet Reach out and touch me

~ this was originally an entirely different song! but I switched it out last minute and I am v happy that I did because this song..this song fucks severely, but also it lets me put a facet of Dream on this playlist that I love seeing, which is the needy and seductive lil bastard that he can be. i think i could make a whole other playlist dedicated to that aspect tbh azcacdfavcg

Purity Ring - Asido

Oh, the madness in weakness Doubled o'er on the plate Fill an ocean with weaponry Hurricanes of our grace

Feel as lonely as I do, as I do Feel as lonely as I do, I do Feel as lonely as I do

~I wanted some Purity Ring on here because I know their genre is sometimes described as dream pop or witch house, and their lyricism has this... poetically visceral aspect to it sometimes that I adore while also being very ethereal. Love them. also tho, feel as lonely as I do?? of course it had to be in here.

Hozier - It Will Come Back

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

It can't be unlearned I've known the warmth of your doorways Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you Oh, please, give me mercy no more That's a kindness you can't afford I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born You'll hear me howling outside your door

~ okay look, I know everybody and their mother who has made a playlist like this has put Mr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne on it, but like - come on.. look at those lyrics. He just Gets It™ and the music slaps ass! I have like, an actual Dreamling playlist in the works as well, which I'm sure will be... longer. but hopefully I'll have the foresight to work on it a bit at a time, and PERHAPS prepare a word document, since I cannot seem to help rambling at any chance I get 💀

Son Lux - Labor

I will break with you For your body to be freed and pleased Take the weight of you For your gravity to be erased

Come to life, my hungry arms are begging you But what more can you do?

Labor reveal before our eyes Into our ears Unfurl with light The stars around us disappear Just what is torn What comes alive inside of us

~ I wanted.. something big on here. I don't necessarily have a desired order for this to be played in, but this was the last one I added, if that tells you anything. The opening of this song is a little jarring, but the piano is so. beautiful. Son Lux has such a way of composing their music that just leaves me breathless and astounded at the feelings music can bring forward in me, and speaking in Dream terms, I feel like that would be the kind of song he really appreciates. I'm not gonna end this with rambling about the complexity of human emotion, because I don't believe tumblr could handle me doing that - operation-wise, i feel like it's abt to stab me as is- It's also not why I'm here lol. "I will break with you. For your body to be freed and pleased. Take the weight of you, for your gravity to be erased." the rest of that line literally mentions a phantom muse.. I think, viewing this in terms of Morpheus' marriage, and maybe even how he thinks about marriage as a concept is interesting. On Genius they mention that on a Son Lux insta story they talked about the first half of the song being about helping a friend die, and the second half about the birth of Ryan Lott's son. Looking at in that framing is also,,, WHEW.. okay this paragraph has been long enough lmao

WELL GEEZE.. looks like I've finally made it to the bottom without tumblr shitting itself again, so I'm gonna wrap this up before it gets the chance to. HAH.

If anyone has bothered to read this far; I cannot thank you enough nor can I tell you how much I appreciate you reading my inane mangling of the English language to be overly emo about music and a spindly nightmare of a man, but REGARDLESS. Thank you, I love you, and I would absolutely take a stab wound for you and make you cookies. 💕🖤💕🖤✨

#holy shit.#this is I think. the longest thing I have ever worked on and posted to tumblr dot hellsite..#the sandman #dream of the endless #babygirl of the endless <3 #heh heh sorry i had to. it brings me joy.#also if y'all see typos -other than the on purpose shortening of words cause i am a lazy bastard first and foremost- ... no you didn't #i really mean it tho if you've read all of this AND listened to the playlist?? i would straight up die and kill for you sorry not sorry #okay i'm ... leaving my computer now because i've been here for..#longer than i would like to disclose in my tumblr tags so.. tata for now beloveds #playlist #Spotify #dreamling #a hint of..or flavored ig..#almost forgot to tag them hehe oops

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