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delugguk · 1 year

Text

is this okay?

pair: jungkook x reader

rated: mature

word count: 1.7k

warnings: sexual content.

Part two.

autor’a note: helllooooooo I know it’s been a while and since I haven’t finished my many fics that I have (I know, k word me pls but don’t, actually skdj) this live (or more like the way he looks) made me go kinda feral for him so I had to do this !! this is compleeeetely unedited because I wrote it super fast and I’m just posting it as it is !! with nothing more to say, I miss and love every single one of you that keep coming back to my stories or just finding out about it, believe me when I say I appreciate every single one of you, even if you’re new!! you’re here for a reason 🫶🏼 thank you for liking my stuff and I’ll be more open to you guys later since I one to make a while make over on this account lmaO, anyways, enjoy and let’s get feral together while kook’s cook his album🤍🧚🏼✨

~*^~*~^~*~^*~~^*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*^~*~^~*~^~*

you blame it on him.

he didn’t had to seat like that, stare at you like that and even bite his lower lips like that. it was something so subtle and you swore his eyes glistened so much, you could almost mistaken them for desire.

but what if..?

no.

you needed to control yourself. you promised you wouldn’t be jumping his bones the moment he called you to make him some company. you know you two are close friends.

but damn.

can’t deny the massive sexual attraction that’s so intense with only doing something so innocent as much as sinful like eye contact.

it’s crazy.

or at least that’s what you think.

jungkook can be complicated at times. but, fuck. you suddenly remember his fainted voice when talking to that girl. “sure, but can you handle me?”. you didn’t know what he or they were referring to, you were just trying to pass by in those big echoing college halls.

of course, you thought about— the worst.

he was fine as hell, okay? to say he isn’t fucking around just makes NO sense.

but the day you met him or—no. the day you two met at that reunion.. fuck. just thinking about it already makes your pussy pop. how embarrassing.

he looked so fine.. he teased you just right.. ugh! stupid hormones! why does it have to be so rich to have sex.. you wanted to fuck him here and there. a little dance could do so much..

“..y/n?”

suddenly you’re back to earth. (with a flaming pussy as we speak).

“yeah?” disconnected, you blink once again. jungkook just smirks.

“I told you, not to worry about it. just come seat,” he pats his side of the sofa, two times. “next to me.”

stupid beanie, stupid white shirt and stupid tattoos.

why does he has to look so cute and fine at the same time? not only that but the way he smelled? a fucking perfect man. who the hell smells that good? it isn’t even a strong essence but rather a soft/sexy one..

“no.” oh.. you can’t help yourself anymore. “I want to seat here.” you said as each of your legs takes place beside his waist.

yep, you boldly seated on top of him. just like that.

it’s not that you do this often but jungkook didn’t seemed to reject your body language as soon as he holded your hips with both of his hands. somehow delicate but oh, so decisively.

that caused a whole electricity run over your entire body to the point you almost felt goosebumps if it wasn’t that already.

just.. how much did you really wanted him? seemed out of limits..

both of your palms rest on his shoulders and there’s no words but an intense eye contact full of temptation, desire.. all of the words you can imagine referencing to the same feeling you both were having right now.

what’s stopping you two? why don’t you move? why doesn’t he move? those were your thoughts until-

“it’s dangerous.” he mutters. you’re just biting your lips.

gosh, you wanted him right here, right now.

“eung” you say, but it sounded a little too sexy(horny) for jungkook’s ears and damn, did he liked that.

“eung?” but as he mimics the way you sounded (just a little more dominant) was enough for you to start moving your hips to his already increasing bulge. mm. it felt good.

you grab his neck as you move very slowly but surely as he looks at you with those dark shiny eyes slightly pulling his face towards the area where your boobs could make contact with him.

he acts fast into giving light, delicate but needy kisses through your also white crop top. the one that can mark how hard your nipples are just right.

you moan a little, more like a very hot exhale that makes jungkook go crazy internally. the way for him to expresses is to squeeze the side of your hips, right enough for you to take your shirt off.

“no bra..” he smirks. “just how I like.”

“mhmm” you slightly moan once again to acknowledge his words.

his hands immediately take a ride feeling you up from your curves, belly, ribs and finally, your boobs. his hands feeling so warm, so right as soon as he touched you. feeling like it could burn, it felt divine. it was to the point where you weren’t the only one that’s breathing so heavy but him.

kissing your nipples felt like heaven, his lip piercing somehow sort of cold made magic so you couldn’t help but take his shirt off, beanie staying on. you wanted him like that.

“I want to kiss you so bad.” breathless, you said.

“do it.” bold enough, he responds. “fuck me if you want. I’ll let you do anything tonight.”

“fuck.” you whisper. “jungkook..” hips intensifying its deep roll, still slow.

“take off your shorts. want you naked for me.”

you wanted to scream. (in many different meanings to it).

he follows you when you obey him so well, but instead of him going naked, he leaves his boxers on.

but you don’t mind, as soon as you caress the imprint of his hard dick drawing on his black Calvin Klein’s boxers. jungkook man spreads giving you the fucking gaze, while patting his well formed thighs and you’re crazy wet at this point. — as soon as you reveal his dick making a pop towards his lower stomach, you could feel yourself almost salivating for him.. and it’s something you’ll normally will feel embarrassing of, but with the way your pussy was crying for him.. yeah, a girl had to do what it gotta do.

“didn’t know how badly you wanted me..” he exhales. “guess I wasn’t the only one, fuck. come here.

pulling you and opening your legs towards him revealed how sticky you were in front of his eyes that jungkook couldn’t help but pass his dick through your entrance without dipping in yet.

“fuck..” he moans. “is this what you wanted? mm. how long were you waiting for this?” giving a little slap with his dick to your pussy. “and why didn’t you tell me earlier?” with hooded eyes, already looking like a mess.

god, was he gone and he hasn’t entered you yet.

you were almost to the point of crying with him barely starting. that’s how horny the both of you were.

“been wanting you for a while..” you’re breathing to exhale. it feels so good. “wanting to feel you just like this..”

“..raw?”

“mh-yeah.. fuck.”

he just stares at your expression for a moment, eyes closed, lips being caught up by your teeth.. pussy sliding so easily around his already wet hard dick.. it seemed so sexy the way you were moving. he wanted to eat you out when looking at you, but his need to finally be inside you was stronger.

“so do I..” he deeply answers as soon as he’s making your hips swallow his entire dick.

“agh, fffuck. it’s more of what I imagined.” he speaks more to himself.

you, on the other hand, was trying no to cum right there. breathing long and slowly to calm your pussy and feelings because somehow.. your heart started to felt as if it wanted to jump out of your body and you swear you could hear jungkook’s heart trying to do the same too.

“move.” he says, giving some gentle, little pats to your ass.

“give me a second-“ and after five seconds, you breathe and start rolling your hips back and forth. all you could hear was your juices having fun.

but the moment you lean into him and hug him with your face into the side of his neck, is we’re things start to get fun and nasty when you actually start to bounce on him.

“fuck yes.” jungkook’s voice rasp into a very hot moan. “‘knew you were good.” he pauses. “fucking lucky I am.” after grabbing your ass and start manhandling you like his personal fuck toy.

“ah-“ a moan escaping your lips, you clench your teeth sucking air to it. “s-so g-good” and it’s just that you speak along marking the secuence of how he bounces you on him.

“mm I’m feeling you close, are you?”

“y-yeah”

—in a moment where you both got to cum, having jungkook fuck you still with his cum innit because he founded so sexy the way your pussy looked so swollen and messy (and how well you take him and squeezed him) having you cum once again, things weren’t so awkward afterwards. it all ended up rather having jungkook asking you things.

“I noticed you got more wet when I started to control your bounces..”

“I.. um, I like when someone sort of.. uses me like that like..” you lower your voice, “I’m all yours?”

jungkook smiles. “oh.. y/n you aren’t getting shy right now, aren’t you?”

“no!” you feel embarrassed.

“I think you are..” he teases.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes.

“don’t worry though. as I’ve said it before things.. turned out to be this way,” you both giggle. “don’t worry. and.. y/n?”

“eung?”

“believe me when I say that this isn’t going to be the last time of us doing this. I will always want this to happen again, and it will.” he pauses. “unless you don’t want me to.”

“okay.” it’s all you say but in reality you can’t explain to him how much do you agree with this because sure, if it was hard standing by his side without doing anything ever since that night or the day you met him.. with today’s events it’ll be even harder to not want to have a taste of him once again.

and again..

and again.

and that’s when it hits you. you never kissed him, he never kissed you and you’re completely screwed.

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floylia · 2 months

Text

ELYSIAN ♫

05. Time is a bargaining tool

Time is a bargaining tool.

Scara knew that.

“You want me to feature on your album?” You repeated Scara’s words, beginning to doubt your ability to hear, “Do you realize how risky that is?”

Scara bobbed his head with pleased a expression etched on his face as if his words weren’t weighted with worry, “That’s why I asked you if you were ready to take a risk.”

You stood up, unable to sit still, now pacing across the room. Bambi must have sensed your unease, because he too, started following you while rubbing himself against your legs, “On a normal occasion, I wouldn’t mind. But you’re playing with two careers here. I might sound frustrating, refusing your offer, but don’t blame me for being realistic.”

“When have I ever cared about reputations?”

You fought the urge to smack him back into his senses.

“Never, but you’re in an industry where the public’s opinion can change the trajectory of the career you’ve established for years.”

And I don’t want you to go through that as well.

“We’re not puppets.”

“That’s debatable.”

Scara sighed, tousling his hair once again—his nervous habit, “We shouldn’t let them control us.”

It’s easier said than done.

But you understood where he was coming from.

You faced him, offering your utmost sincerity, “I don’t want to drag you in my mess. Nor do I want to cause more trouble than necessary.”

Silence engulfed the room. You glanced over at your friend. He’s deep in thought, gaze intense, expression unreadable. But you knew he was scheming, thinking of ways to persuade you—anything to assure you that all’s well, ends well.

Because what Scara wants, Scara gets.

“How long is your hiatus?”

You shrugged your shoulder and decided to sit back down. Bambi trailed you as he leaped up the bed and onto your lap. Clingy cats are the best, “I don’t know, but they’ll probably kick me out before it’s over. I have less than three months left, anyway.”

“What if we use this opportunity?”

“What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, “Tell your story. Your silence leaves for more assumptions to grow.”

“I would if they let me use my voice. I was planning to wait until my contract is up to take legal actions.”

He tilted his head, “Why can’t you now?”

“Because they’re silencing me. Especially since my accuser is from the same company,” You deadpanned, stating the obvious, a detail he may have forgotten.

Scaramouche scoffed in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head in disapproval, “But they’re willing to throw you under the bus and take her side over you?”

“Which is why I don’t want to be responsible for ruining the career you’ve built for years. Even my friends are receiving unnecessary hate just because they’re connected to me.”

“So it’s a lost cause?”

You nodded.

“Can you…” Scara hesitated, wondering if he should continue, “Can you think it over some more? At least until your hiatus is up?”

You crossed your arms, failing to hide the faint smile creeping across your lips, “You sound desperate.”

“Enjoying my misery?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll win you over, just wait.”

Time is a bargaining tool.

You realized that.

Notes:

“We’re not puppets.” Haha so about that

another update cause i feel bad for ghosting 🫡

hope you all enjoy :))

i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you (bolded = couldn’t tag)

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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#genshim impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact modern au #genshin fanfic #genshin smau #genshin modern au #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin idol au #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x y/n #scara x y/n #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi #scara x reader

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04mxfutbol · 11 months

Text

Reality (Pt. 3) (Christen Press x Reader)

A/N: Do I love this? Yes. Did I maybe cry? Also yes. Am I hoping you’ll like this? Definitely yes. Is Alex just a soft little bean in this fic? Maybe.

This is Alternate version 1.

P.S. the playlist for this specific fic was brutal. Sad song after sad song. Had to channel my past for this lmaoo. Had Khalid’s first album on repeat. Specifically 8teen. Because OOF the emotions and memories to that one. Then it was happy songs so it was all over lmao. It was BRUTAL.

Enjoy! (:

“She blocked me again.” You tell Alex as you get into the car. “I’m not so bothered by it anymore but it does sting a little.”

“At least it stings less this time.” Alex says as she closes the car door. “Y/N you really need to stop looking at her page.”

“I just miss her so much.”

“I know Y/N.. I know and I’m sorry. Just take a nap okay? It’ll be a while until we get to your parents house.”

“Thanks again for driving.”

“Not a problem.” Alex says with a smile.

You closed your eyes as Alex began to drive. Remembering one specific Fourth of July.

“Okay let’s go on another ride.” You tell Alex as you pull her hand.

“Can’t we take a break? I’m tired.”

“No. No breaks, you said you’d go on another ride with me and you can’t back out.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Alex says with a sigh. Following right behind you.

You looked back to see if Alex was following you and she was, but as you turned around you bumped into someone. You turned back around and saw the one person you didn’t think you’d see.

“Christen?”

“Y/N?”

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Christen says with a smile. “Alex.”

“Christen.” Alex says with a nod.

“I-um. How have you been?” Christen asks you.

“Good. How have you been? It’s been a while.”

“Good as well. Yeah it’s been a while.”

Two years. It’s been two years since Christen decided she didn’t want to be friends. Ever since she saw you at a game with Alex. The night that changed everything.

“I’m here with my neighbor and my boyfriend. I want you to meet him, he’s really nice.” Christen says.

“Uh yeah I’d love to.”

“Come on.” Christen says grabbing your arm.

She walked through the crowd, your hand in hers and you felt like it was all back to normal. It definitely wasn’t, but for a few seconds it felt like it was.

“Y/N. This is my boyfriend Justin. Justin this is Y/N a friend of mine.” Christen says.

Friend?

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” You say as you extend your hand out and shake hands with her boyfriend.

“Nice to meet you as well.”

“Hey do you want to go on a ride with me?” Christen asks. “Nobody else wants to go on it with me.”

“Sure yeah. Alex doesn’t want to go on with me because she’s tired.” You say looking behind you.

“Look it’s not my fault I get dizzy.” Alex says.

“Come on then.” Christen says with a smile. “Please?”

“Okay. Yeah let’s go.”

You wanted to stay there, to stay in that moment. Forever. Like it was all before.

After waiting five minutes in line you both got on the ride. You sat next to Christen, like you always did. The ride was finally being lifted up as it got ready. Once it begun it was spinning and going upside down and all over.

“AHH.” Christen screamed. “Are you not scared?”

“Nope. I like the adrenaline!” You shout.

“I’m scared!” Christen shouts. “Oh yeah that’s right. You and your darn need of adrenaline!”

You extended your hand out and Christen quickly held onto your hand. You turned your head and saw her closing her eyes.

“I forget you scare so easily.” You shout.

“Oh my god I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re fine, I got you.”

As the ride began to slow down Christen still held onto your hand.

“I missed you.” Christen shouted as she squeezed your hand, opening her eyes as she turned to face you.

You felt your heart stop and race at the same time. Oh how you longed to hear those words come out of her mouth.

Once the ride stopped you both got off the seats.

“I missed you too.” You tell Christen just before you both walked back to where her boyfriend and where Alex were. Christen smiled at you as she gave your hand one last squeeze.

“Y/N. Y/N wake up we’re here.” You hear Alex say.

“Already?” You mumble as you rub your eyes.

“Yes already. Come on, your parents are waiting for us.”

Both you and Alex grabbed all your luggage from the backseat not wanting to make two trips to the car. Too exhausted to even walk to the door, having had practice that same morning.

“Honey you’re home.” Your mom says as she opens the door for you. “Alex I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“Happy to be be here, thank you for inviting me.” Alex says as she drops the bags on the living room floor. “We’re very tired though.”

“Very.” You say as you hobble towards the couch and lay down. “Very tired.”

“There’s food but I think you’ll want to sleep. Am I right?” Your mother asks you.

“Indeed I do. Alex can you carry me to my room?”

"You can walk." Your mother says making you groan.

"But I'm tired."

"Oh well, get up and walk to your bedroom."

"It's fine really, I do this every once in a while." Alex says.

"Excuse me?"

"Now why would you say that." You say looking up at Alex. "Why? Do you not love me being alive?"

"I- uhh. I never do this, it’s the first time.” Alex says as she picks you up from the couch and walking to your room.

“Are you going to take a nap with me?” You ask as Alex places you down on your bed.

“Maybe. I kind of want to read or just listen to some music.”

“You can do that here.” You say as you scoot over and get under the blankets.

“I could but then you’d end up taking the entire space.”

“Fair.” You say with a shrug. She was right, you often took up all the space, you slept in the most random positions. But it was comfy, or you thought so.

Alex let you take your well needed nap, as if you hadn’t slept on the way to your parents house. She knew you needed more rest. Letting you sleep, she walked back to the living room, grabbing her book and headphones.

You were home for the Fourth of July. A time of year that Alex knew you couldn’t be alone.

It was the one holiday that stringed you deeply. She wasn’t going to leave you alone.

A few blocks down from your home, Christen was also home, visiting her parents home. Along with her boyfriend.

“What’s this?” Justin says as he grabs something from under Christen’s bed. “A box with a binder? What’s in here? It’s full of notes?”

“Give me that.” Christen says, eyes wide as she realizes what box he grabbed. The binder she kept that was filled with all the notes you had given her.

At the beginning of your friendship you were too shy to actually talk to Christen. So you did the best you could and communicated to her with notes. Christen loved each of them, each having a huge significance to her. They held many memories of you both.

“Christen, thank you for being the best friend I could ever have asked for. Turtle.” Justin reads as he skims through all the notes.

“Give me that.” Christen says as she gets up and attempts to grab it from him, but he only pulls away trying to read more.

“There’s one from you, you wrote this one. Y/N this is part four of the notes and I want to start by saying that this part-.” Justin is cut off as Christen snatches the binder from him.

“These are not for you to read.” Christen says with a stern voice.

“What the hell are those notes? Christen. What was that last note?”

“Nothing. They’re nothing.”

Lies.

They were everything. Everything to her. It was what still somewhat connected you both.

“They sure seemed like something.”

“They’re notes. Y/N never actually talked to me when we first started becoming friends, so she wrote me notes. I talked and she wrote notes. We communicated that way.”

“That’s weird.” Justin says with a chuckle.

“No! No it’s not. It’s not weird. She’s shy, she hates talking, she could only show affection and appreciation through notes. It’s not weird it’s-it’s.”

“It’s what? Cute?”

“No, it’s who she is.” Christen says as she looks down at the binder. “She’s shy, she’s always been shy.”

“Seemed to me like she loved you.”

“In a friend way.”

“Definitely not in a friend way.” Justin says as he gets up from the floor. “And you also loved her.”

“Of course I did, as a friend.” Christen says.

Justin shakes his head and scoffs as he makes his way towards the front door.

“You loved her and definitely not in a friend way.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever you two are. It’s clear you and I aren’t working. I’ve tried to get through it but you and I don’t work. You’re not in this relationship, it’s all one sided. I don’t want that. Especially when you’re in love with an old friend that you haven’t gotten over.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“I’m done. You may not want that but I’m done. Y/N seems to take all the space in your head.” Justin says as he walks out of Christen’s home.

Christen stood in front of the door in shock. Should she run out and try and save her relationship? Definitely. Not?

Instead she did something else, she got into her car and drove to your house.

As Alex was just about to fall asleep she heard a loud knock coming from the front door. Taking her headphones off she looked around and saw no one.

So naturally she walked to the door and opened it. The Y/L/N wouldn’t mind since she was here a lot.

“Christen?” Alex says as she opens the door, realizing who it was.

“Alex? What the hell are you doing here?”

“No, what the hell are YOU doing here?” Alex asks as she walks out and closes the front door.

“I need to talk to Y/N.”

“No. You can’t.”

“This isn’t your house.” Christen says as she tries walking around Alex.

“And it’s not yours either.” Alex says as she gets in Christen’s way. “But I am a regular at the Y/L/N household. And I’m saying you can’t go in the house.”

“Alex I need to talk to her so get out of my way.”

“To tell her what exactly? To maybe apologize and become friends again but also still hate me? Yeah I don’t think so. You’ve put her through enough. You also blocked her again? So no you can’t talk to her. Figure out another way.”

“Alex. Let me in.”

“You want to know something? She never thought she was good enough, but did you have to make it worse?” Alex shouts.

“Let me in I want to talk to her.”

“You treated her like nothing, like she never mattered. But yet she still stuck around, thinking you would change. Thinking you would keep your promise that you would change! She hoped you would change! Change like you promised her!”

“I know what I did! You don’t think I know what I did? You don’t think it’s not in the back of my mind all the fucking time? You don’t know what our friendship was like.” Christen shouts only making Alex more frustrated.

“You ruined her. Shattered her heart into a million pieces. Oh Christen please spare me the I don’t know because I KNOW. Who do you think has been there for her? Certainly not you.”

“Alex. Let me in the house. I need to see her and I need to talk to her.”

“You know the worst of it all? The worst of it all was you taking the wonderful person she was before you.”

“I didn’t mean any of it to happen.”

“Then maybe invent a time machine and think before you do something. But right now I won’t let you talk to her. She’s tired, she needs sleep. We had practice yesterday and this morning then we drove here, she doesn’t need something or someone else draining her energy.”

“Screw your Alex! Why are you even here at her house.”

"I'm here because I was invited by her family. It's the Fourth of July weekend. Should be a holiday for you to remember right? Fourth of July." Alex says as she turns around and walks back towards the house.

Alex goes to open the door but right before she does, she’s shoved by Christen.

"Oh screw you Alex!" Christen shouts.

“No, screw you Christen. For screwing her over and over. She deserves so much more than you.” Alex shouts as she shoves Christen. “Screw you!”

Alex shoves Christen one last time before entering the house. When she enters she sees you, barefoot and sleepy.

"Al? Were you yelling?" You ask as you rub your eyes. "It's late."

"It's eight pm Y/N." Alex says walking towards you.

"Who were you talking to?" You say groggily.

"Just a neighbor." Alex says.

"Oh uhh everything okay? Wait, why are you yelling at one of my neighbors?"

"Loud music from their car, that's all."

"Oh, who?"

"The neighbor from across the street?"

"Oh yeah they usually have loud music but you get used to it, Alex you definitely shouldn't have yelled at them though. They're nice people trust me."

"Noted." Alex says. "Should we go back to your room?"

"Yes. I'm exhausted." You say as you grab another pillow from the couch. "Carry me?"

"No I already did that earlier today. Now come on before we bother your family with the amount of noise we’re making.”

“They’re not asleep Al, they’re just in their room watching tv or reading. Now come on I’m so tired.”

“When aren’t you.”

- - - -

“So I pushed him and he fell in the pool because he was too distracted by three golden retrievers.” Your aunt says, making everyone laugh. Everyone except you.

“Hey you okay?” Alex whispers.

“I feel so empty.” You whisper.

Alex gives you a sympathetic smile as she wraps an arm around you.

“One day you’ll be here again and you’ll feel happy. I promise you that. You’ll find happiness.” Alex whispers and you give her a weak smile.

“Thanks Al.”

“Alex do you have any good stories? I’m sure you have plenty, especially of Y/N. How long have you guys been together?” Your uncle asks and you turn to look at Alex, then back to your uncle.

“We- we’re not dating.” You say then clear your throat. “We’re best friends.”

“Oh my apologies. I thought, or I guess I assumed which was totally my fault.”

“It’s fine really. We’ve dealt with worse.” You say.

“Have we really?” Alex asks and you shrug.

“I don’t know. No?” You say making Alex laugh.

Alex pulls you closer into her, her hand reaching for your hand.

“But I do have good stories.” Alex says.

Alex began telling your family stories of you from being late to your first practice with the Wave to falling from your seat on the plane because you had fallen asleep. It was definitely a bit embarrassing but Alex also gave them embarrassing stories about herself, probably so you wouldn’t kill her.

You laughed through it all, never letting go of Alex’s hand. As she told all those stories you looked at her and something inside you was feeling nervous. Alex turned to look at you at the most embarrassing parts of each story, squeezing your hand and smiling.

Alex looked at you and she smiled, suddenly Alex felt like she was looking at a different you. Smiling and laughing at her telling the stories. She loved to see that side of you. She was feeling something deep inside her that she hadn’t felt in a while. Alex subconsciously shook her head and turned back to finish her stories.

After a long night with your family, you and Alex went back to your room.

Alex went on to shower to get ready for bed. While she did that, you sat on the floor of your bedroom, pulling a box from under your bed. Already haven taken a shower, wanting to be first.

You opened it and there it was, two folded pieces of paper. You grabbed the first one, unfolding it and knowing, it was part one of Christen’s note to you. The fact that it was written in pencil gave it away that it was part one. Part two was written in red pen.

Dear Turtle,

When I first met you, you were so shy. I asked you a semi awkward question but yet you answered anyway. Since then we became best friends. You never really talked to me the first year of our friendship but instead you communicated with me by notes. I liked that. It was adorable…

A whole page. A whole page that she had written for you. That was part 1. You pulled out the second part of the note. Flipping it to the back as you remembered something about it.

Part 3 until Friday. There’s four parts. I love you so so soooooo much.

You remembered it all too well, Friday came but the third part didn’t. Neither did the fourth. It never got to your hands. You had asked Christen when you’d get them but she said another day. That day never came.

“Hey, you okay?” Alex asks. You turn around and see Alex in her tank top, drying her hair with her towel.

“I- uh. Yeah I’m fine just looking at something.” You say turning back around and placing the notes back in the box.

“Are those the notes?” Alex asks.

“Yeah.” You say putting the box back under the bed and standing up. “Ready for bed?”

“Always.” Alex says with a smile. “You?”

“Always.”

You get in the bed and scoot over, making room for Alex. It also helped that your parents bought you a bigger mattress.

“You look good for going to bed.” Alex says and you laugh.

“Your hair looks good.”

“Thank you. I’m trying out a new shampoo.” Alex says and you smile.

“You smell better than this morning that’s for sure.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.”

“Yeah well you were driving for me, I didn’t want to risk you making me drive.” You say. Alex let out a gasp as she smacked your arm.

“Oh how sneaky.” Alex says with a stare making you giggle.

“Goodnight stinky.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Wait, can you put your playlist? It helps me fall asleep.”

“I can do that. I see you’ve become a fan of my playlist.” Alex says with a grin.

“Well seeing as you’ve subconsciously made me a fan of your favorite artist over the years, how can I not?”

“Hey now, be real, you loved it the moment I showed you my favorite song.”

“Goodnight stinky.” You say as you face away from Alex. Closing your eyes and relaxing as soon as you hear Alex play her playlist.

You remembered the day she showed you her favorite artist.

“Are you a fan of Taylor Swift?” Alex asks as you both run to the car. Rain pouring down as you got out of practice.

“Haven’t listened to her music so can’t say I’m not.” You say as you open the door to the car.

“This new album, Speak Now is phenomal. Let me play you my favorite song right now and it’ll make you a fan trust me.”

“I trust you.”

You both get into the car and Alex quickly puts skips the tracks on the cd to the one she wanted.

“This song is called Sparks Fly. Definitely one of my favorites so far.” Alex says as the song begins.

You may have enjoyed it a little bit but you wouldn’t dare say that to Alex. That was her favorite song. Personally you thought Fearless was good too, you wouldn’t tell Alex that either. Both were great.

The following morning you were woken up by your phone buzzing. The time alone made you groan, five am. You reached for your phone and saw the name you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Tyler?” You say groggily. “Is everything okay?”

“Hey, it’s Christen.”

The voice alone made you wake up.

“Before you hang up, do you think you could come outside? I know it’s early but I’d like to talk to you, before our next camp and preferably.”

You turned around and saw Alex still sleeping.

“Give me five minutes.”

You were quick to change and walked outside, Christen was right in front of you. Standing in front of your home.

“Hey.”

“It’s pretty early.” You say with a yawn.

“I know and I apologize but I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Christen says, hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“Well here I am.”

You both began walking down the block, the sound of birds chirping filling the silence between you both.

“Justin and I broke up.” Christen says and you turn to face her.

“Oh? I’m sorry.”

“We weren’t made for each other. It was bound to happen really.” Christen says and you hum.

“Is that what you were going to tell me?” You ask facing Christen.

“I wanted to apologize to you. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner. You deserved an apology a long time ago, so I know this apology is overdue. But I’m truly truly sorry, you didn’t deserve what I put you through.”

“I accept your apology.”

“Really?”

“What shocks you? That I accept your apology? Christen I’ve never stopped caring about you, your apology to me gives me some type of peace. I wouldn’t say closure but peace because losing you was the toughest thing for me and an apology from you is what I think I needed. So thank you for apologizing.”

“Long overdue.” Christen says and you look down at the pavement. “I don’t expect us to be friends again but I’ll always care about you. But I’d like to maybe try and be friends again?”

“Give me some time?” You ask Christen.

“Of course.”

You nod as you both turned back into your street.

“Thank you for coming out and listening to me.”

“I think we both needed it.” You say and Christen nods.

“Well here we are.” Christen says as you both stop right in front of your home. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You say as you turn to look at her.

Oh the awkwardness, you remembered it all too well. It was if it were middle school all over again. You never knew what to do.

“Have a good day.” You say as you rock back and forth on your heels.

“Have a good day turtle.” Christen says with a smile.

You smiled softly at her as you turned around and walked into your house.

You let out a loud sigh as you closed the door. Resting your back against the door as you closed your eyes.

“Good morning?”

You were startled, immediately opening your eyes and seeing Alex across from you.

“Geez you scared me.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asks as she walks towards you. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed.”

“I went out for a walk.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asks again.

“I went on a walk with Christen.” You say walking away from Alex.

“And are you okay?” Alex asks as she catches up to you.

“She apologized.”

“Really?” Alex asks, her tone sounding confused.

“Really.”

“Y/N.”

“I know what you’re going to say Al but she called me and wanted to talk to me and I just kind of wanted to see her.” You say turning to face Alex. “It gave me some peace. Maybe I can finally move on Al.”

Alex tilted her head slightly, she took one step towards you and hugged you.

“I’m happy for you Y/N.” Alex whispers as she hugged you tight.

Wrapping your arms around Alex you felt safe in her arms. The warmth she gave you and the feeling of being safe was nice and it was something you hadn’t felt in so long.

As she hugged you, Alex felt happy for you. She was happy you had finally gotten an apology. Resting her chin on top of your head, she rubbed your back and didn’t let you go.

“Peace.” You mumble against Alex.

You weren’t even sure if you were talking about Christen apologizing or being in Alex’s arms. What you were sure of was having some sort of peace.

For the Fourth of July, you and Alex spent it watching movies and fireworks. Munching on snacks you both loved.

“You and me.” Alex says as you watched the fireworks.

“You and me.” You say back as you leaned back into Alex, she was quick to wrap her arms around you the second you leaned back into her.

Your family all gathered around watching the fireworks. Telling more stories and making s’mores.

Peace?

“Smile.” Your uncle says as he grabs his camera and takes a picture of you and Alex.

- - - -

A month later you both headed to national team camp.

You hadn’t talked to Christen since the morning she apologized. You and Alex were also a little closer than usual, something was definitely changing but neither of you knew what.

“You look different.” Megan says as you and Alex walk into the hotel.

“Different good or different bad?” You ask Megan.

“I can’t tell, but different.” Megan says as she raises an eyebrow. Trying to examine your face you looked at her weirdly.

“You’re being weird. If you couldn’t tell I’m happy, or at least in peace.”

“Ah yeah that would do it, that’s different.” Megan says nodding her head and walking away.

You looked at Alex, who was already looking at you.

“You look good.” You tell Alex as you both walk to the elevators.

“Me? In sweats? Please. You look good yourself.” Alex says and you smile.

“In sweats? Please.” You say back making Alex laugh.

“You guys left us!” Naomi shouts.

“Oh yeah we definitely did and weren’t supposed to.” You whisper to Alex. “Sorry! Come on you two.”

“When we go back to San Diego can you make more of that pasta you made?” Naomi asks.

“Of course.” Alex says.

“Umm..”

“We were taking to Y/N.” Taylor says making you laugh.

“It wasn’t bad.” Alex says.

“It wasn’t good either Al.” You say earning a scoff from Alex. “What? Come on I told you not to give it to them.”

“So is that a yes?” Naomi asks.

“I’ll make more don’t worry.”

“You know, you three are absolutely rude.” Alex says walking into the elevator. “My food is delicious.”

“You gotta love us though.” You say as you grab Naomi and Taylor. All three of you smiling.

“I suppose.”

The following day having a day off to get rest and get rid of the absolute terrible case of jet lag. You spent it with Alex as usual.

“Oh sunny day, sunny day.” Alex says as you both walk out the hotel.

“It’s cloudy.”

“Not when you’re around.” Alex says making you smile.

“You’re so corny.”

“Oh but you love me.”

“I suppose.” You say rolling your eyes sarcastically.

You headed to nearby stores, shopping and looking at what you wish you could buy but definitely couldn’t.

As the day went by the sky was slowly being filled with grey clouds. It was smart of you to bring a jacket with you. Walking to the last store before going back to the hotel, you bumped into some of the other girls.

“Wow you guys finally appear.” Megan says.

“We grabbed pretzels, they were pretty good.” You say with a nod.

“We bought Gucci.” Megan says, Rose looks at Megan weirdly as she speaks up.

“No we didn’t.” Rose says. “We bought stuff for Wilma and also found a cool shirt at a local store.”

“You better show me what you bought when we get back to the hotel.”

“Only if you show me what Alex bought you.” Rose says.

“Alex didn’t buy me anything.” You say. Rose looks at you then looks at Alex.

“I bought her stuff yes.” Alex says nodding.

“I knew it.” Rose says. “Ugh next time I’m going with you guys, Megan didn’t buy me anything.”

“I bought you candy.”

“Yeah for twenty five cents on those candy machines.” Rose says making you laugh.

“We’re heading back now, we’ll see you guys later.” You say, leaving Rose and Megan to argue with each other.

“Twenty five cents. She’s so cheap.” Alex says.

“You bought me lemonade for thirteen cents once Al.”

“It was from a lemonade stand.”

“Alex it was your niece’s lemonade stand”

“She didn’t accept card.” Alex says and you shove her.

Ten minutes into your walk back to the hotel it began to rain. Alex grabbed your hand as she pulled you aside, standing below a small space where you couldn’t get soaked in the rain.

“I love the rain.” You smiled as you watched it rain.

“So do I.” Alex says as she pulled you close to her.

Standing below what kept you both dry, Alex ran her fingers through your hair. Your head against her chest and you could hear her heartbeat.

You both always loved the rain.

Alex looked at you as you looked at the street where it was pouring. And maybe it was the way your hair had gotten a bit soaked or the way your eyes lit up as it began to rain. But she hoped you couldn’t see what she was seeing.

You looked at Alex and smiled, Alex smiled back and it was as if someone had flipped a switch, but the way you felt in Alex’s arms made you feel something you hadn’t felt in so long.

The way you felt in Alex’s embrace, made Alex heart melt, it made her feel things she never thought of when she saw you.

As Alex looked at you all your worries left, you knew it right then and there, a new and old feeling you hadn’t felt for someone in so long seemed to appear again.

While Alex looked at you, her heart began to beat in a different way, her eyes began to shine in a way she’d never thought would happen.

It was like you both knew, looking at each other for a few more long seconds you both smiled at one another.

Alex grabbed your stuff and placed it on the dry ground. You looked at her confused.

“What are you doing?” You ask and before she answers she pulls you into the rain.

“Doing something I think we should’ve done a while ago.” Alex says as she cups your face with her hands.

Alex smiles, and you’re still a bit confused but you kind of knew maybe what she was going at.

“And what’s that exactly?” You ask.

“This.”

Alex rubs her thumb on your cheek before she leans in to kiss you. Connecting her lips against yours, you reciprocated, closing your eyes as you placed your hands on her hips.

Happiness. Peace. Happy. Peace.

It almost felt like a movie, a fairytale even.

Kissing in the rain on the sidewalk.

You both pulled away, eyes still closed as your foreheads rested against one another. Alex smiled as she leaned in for another kiss. Neither of you wanting to open your eyes just yet. But when you both finally did, there it was. Sparks.

You hummed as Alex bumped her nose against yours.

“That was also long overdue.” Alex says.

“I agree.” You say.

It was as if someone had attached a string to both your hearts. The string being pulled and having your hearts connect.

Across the street from where you were Rose, Megan and Emily were passing by, noticing what had happened, watching it all unfold. Cheering and clapping.

Both you and Alex turned to look who was cheering, as soon as you had seen who it was you were quick to try and hide.

“Thank god.” Megan says as she walks up to you and Alex.

“Finally. I’m actually so happy for you guys, like otp for sure.” Rose says with a smile.

“Is this why you were so happy? How long has this been going on for?” Meg asks.

“I was happy for other reasons.” You say.

“Be real.”

“We’ve been figuring it out.” Alex says. “I think we just did.”

“We did.” You say with a smile.

“That’s honestly like kind of cute? But you didn’t hear me say that.” Emily says.

What none of you knew was that Christen watched it all unfold as well.

You all walked back to the hotel together, talking about really anything but what had just happened. Your hand intertwined with Alex’s. It all felt so nice.

As you walked into the hotel, your clothes sort of dry from the walk. You headed towards the elevator and up to the fifth floor. As you all walked out the elevator you headed to yours and Becky’s room.

“This was your plan all along.” Christen says as she looks at Alex as she passed through.

“Excuse me?” Alex asks as she turns around.

“Wait what?” You ask, you stumble back startled at the accusation Christen was saying. But also absolutely confused on what she meant.

“I didn’t like you from the moment I knew you were friends with Y/N.”

“And why’s that?” Alex says as she steps closer to Christen. “Enlighten us and tell us why that is.”

"Alex don't." You whisper as you put your hand on Alex's chest, trying to push her back.

“Does that really matter?”

“No but enlighten us. Do you think this..” Alex says motioning to you and her. “Happened because I planned it? No. I didn’t plan it. It just happened!”

“You’ve been after her since the moment you met her. I saw it in your eyes.”

“My eyes? Wow. Christen go look in the fucking mirror and look at yourself. You were in love with her, but you’re so stupid you never admitted it to her and definitely not yourself."

"Alex please, come on this isn't worth it." You say as you look at Alex. "Please."

"That's not true!" Christen shouts.

"I haven't said anything all this time but I know way more about you than you think I do. Word spreads Christen." Alex says. "I didn't plan this, we didn't plan this. You think Y/N planned to fall in love with me? No, it just happened over time."

"It was your plan all along and I know it." Christen shouts as she gets even closer.

"Yeah? Prove it then? You just keep using her, you always have, she's your safety. It's the only stability you've had in your life, but it's time for her to move on from your toxic self.”

Although Christen had apologized, you didn’t recognize who was in front of you. That wasn’t the Christen you knew. But you also didn’t know who she was anymore after spending so many years apart.

So many things flashed through your head, conversations and memories. But specifically one conversation, a conversation she didn’t know about.

"You didn't hear this from me but despite what Christen has told you, I wanted you to know because you deserve something. She didn't want you to know this, but she likes a girl, if that's anything to you."

“You liked a girl.” You say softly.

“What?” Christen asks, snapping her head to look at you.

“In middle school, you liked a girl, a friend of ours.” You say, trying to keep your composure.

“What? Where did you hear that? Who told you that?”

“A friend of ours told me, they told me that you didn’t want me to know but you liked a girl. That I deserved some truth, you liked a girl and you didn’t want me to know.”

“Y/N-.”

“I was always telling you my truth, always. But I swore I’d never say anything to you about it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want you to know.” Christen says.

“But you didn’t want me to know, our friend told me because she said I deserved to know some truth. I needed some closure, because you weren't giving me that. They found me and told me, a secret that I swore I'd never tell anyone and I never did."

"I just didn't want to hurt you."

"Because I liked you? I knew that, even then why couldn't you trust me that I'd be happy for you for being with someone you love." You say as you stand in front of Alex.

"Coward." Alex says.

“Alex.” You say as you turn to give her a glare. “Christen. You never trusted me. Ever. I don’t know why and maybe I’ll never know. What I do know is that as much as I want closure from you, from us and our friendship. I don’t think I want it anymore. Your apology gave me the closest thing I’ll get from closure from you. I want to move on and I have and I will.”

“With Alex?” Christen says with a scoff.

“You never even liked Alex, she has never done anything to you. But you despise her and I don’t even understand why. Alex has nothing to do with you and I not being friends anymore.”

“She has everything to do with it! She took you away from me.” Christen shouts.

“That’s not true.” You shout. “I always wondered why you were so angry when you saw me with Alex but now I don’t even want to know because that won’t change anything. You never trusted me. At least she’s trusted me this entire time.”

“I trusted you.”

“No Christen you didn’t. You never did and I tried so hard to think you did but you never did.”

“Y/N.”

“I hated that you weren’t at my college graduation. I also hated that I wasn’t at yours. Just seeing pictures of you with your cap and gown from your family’s posts. It gutted me. Because all I ever wanted was to support you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, but I’m tired Chris. I’m tired.”

You sighed as you looked at Christen. Alex squeezed your arm softly, turning around you saw her nodding and then looking at Christen.

“Do you remember the notes you gave me in eigth grade?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember I’d give you notes as well.”

“How could I forget. It was the only way you’d talk to me the first year of our friendship. You were so shy. It was how you communicated with me. I kept them all in a binder. It’s still under my bed.” Christen says.

“You gave me two. Your second one said there were four. I never got them and I still wonder what they said. But I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never know and maybe you never wanted me to know. But I loved you for so long, I can’t live like this anymore. I care about you, I always will but I’m done. I’m happy now, I have peace. Alex had nothing to do with us not being friends anymore.”

You grabbed Alex’s hand and walked to your room, leaving a shocked Christen in the middle of the hallway.

“Are you okay?” You ask Alex as soon as you close the door to your room.

“I’m fine, are you okay?”

“I’m- I’m good.” You say as you breathe out. “I’m sorry she reacted that way.”

“That’s not your fault and you shouldn’t be apologizing for her. She’s responsible for her own actions. It’s not your fault Y/N.” Alex says as she places her hand on your cheek. You leaned into her touch and smiled.

“Thank you.” You turned your head just enough to kiss the inside of her hand. Alex smiled back at you, looking at you with such adoration.

You felt happy, felt at peace. Felt loved.

- - - -

“Close your eyes.” Alex says as she gets out of the car, running to the other side as she opens the door for you.

“You’re not going to kill me right? I didn’t mean it when I said to throw away your terrible terrible food. It was delicious.” You say and you hear Alex laugh.

“Can you just trust me?”

“I trust you I just don’t know what’s going to happen.” You say as you get out of the car.

“Open your eyes.” Alex says and you open your eyes.

Eyes widening as you see all around you, hundreds of floating lanterns being lit up by many people.

“I know the Fourth of July was something that meant a lot to you and that it probably won’t ever mean the same, so I wanted to bring you here. Have a little something of our own. Our Fourth of July but like two months later. Our own day to remember.”

“I love it.”

“Really?” Alex asks and you smile.

“Yes really. It’s lovely.”

“Well.” Alex says as she grabs the floating lantern. Turning it around to so you could see what she had written on it. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You grinned as you leaped into her.

“Yes.” You say as you wrap your arms around her.

“Oh thank god I was starting to get worried.” Alex says making you laugh.

The sun went down and you released your lantern.

A new beginning with someone you love so much.

You both sat on the ground, looking at the sky as you watched all the floating lanterns. You had never felt so much happiness and love.

As much as you loved Christen, it just never seemed to go back to the way it was.

At every family event, Alex was now officially part of the family. You laughed and shared stories. You no longer felt empty but rather felt peace and joy.

You were kissing Alex every chance you could get, you were a brand new person. The kisses shared at family events as everyone told stories. Fourth of July was no longer so painful.

You healed.

Alex showed you what being loved was and felt like, and how to be treated as a friend but also as a partner. She wasn’t bothered by your constant need of assurance because she knew you always needed to be told every once in a while. She didn’t mind, in fact she loved telling you that she loved you.

“I love you.” Alex says as she wraps her arms around you.

“I love you. It’s you and me.”

“That’s my whole world.”

Three years later you would both come back, except that time Alex would get on one knee asking you to marry her. You obviously said yes because how could you not marry your best friend and lover.

Facing reality was no longer scary, it was exciting.

With the right person you knew facing reality would be an adventure. Alex was your reality and you were hers. You just didn’t know it. But she was reality. And she didn’t know but you were her reality. You were ready to be with Alex forever and face reality together.

This was reality and you were finally happy facing reality.

#christen press x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso imagine

174 notes · View notes

nevernonline · 7 months

Note

hihi! its the anon that requested the 14th member in another gg and performing a sexy concept!! i loved the ones u wrote recently and i was hoping (pls dont feel pressured to do it!!) of u could continue with the rest of the members. ur writing is so nice btw🫶

bubu, hi!! yes, ofc!! it's sort of long bc im insane, but thank u sm. ily. (srry this took so long lmao?) 🖤☘️

svt reactions to member and their gg and their sexy debut concept (cont.):

wonwoo:

Wonwoo was always somewhat of a protector for you. He took it upon himself to shield you from the bad side of being an idol. Comments, questions, people trying to get in your pants. It’s common for a female idol to be burned in the spotlight, especially when they’re around 13 guys a lot of the time. Between dating rumors, fans' assumptions that you HAD to be hooking up with at least one of them, he always shut it down even before you or the company had the opportunity to do so. The night of your debut showcase the company threw a small album release party, family only which included a lot of the members from various groups between pledis and hybe. Your group's videos and concept were plastered playing on the large LED display, which was catching the eyes of some male company staffers and idols. Wonwoo was sitting across the room from you, watching as people praised your hard work and talent. He didn’t think much of it until someone asked him if they thought you’d give them your cell phone number so they could ask you on a date. He wanted to tell them no for you, but figured you should be able to fight that battle yourself so instead he beat him to it. A text pinged in your phone from Wonwoo telling you to meet him outside on the patio just so he can congratulate you, instead of just asking you out himself. Not just as friends, but much more.

jihoon:

When your team manager and the ceo sat jihoon down for a conversation, he definitely did not expect to be asked to help produce a song you wrote for your new group's debut ep. He would have done it in a heartbeat even without the company’s executives praising him and ready to bed for his music expertise. He was always willing to work and help out a friend. When the day came and you stepped into his sacred studio space, he was nowhere to be found, you’ve been in the light colored room often, but never alone. You took your time getting comfortable on his couch, playing with your phone while you awaited the arrival of your close friend. When the door alarm buzzed and unlocked, revealing Jihoon and his arms full of snacks and sodas for you both to enjoy. “Sorry I'm late, I tried to text you but I left my phone in here before stepping out.” “No worries, Hoonie. Is it just us then?” “Yeah, everyone’s a little busy today. That’s cool?” “Obviously. So before we get started should I tell you the concept?” “That would be helpful, y/n.” Jihoon was always a jokester especially with you, it was easy to play around with him. “So, well, okay. It’s basically a song about seducing someone, we’re trying a sexy siren concept.” Taken a back slightly, Jihoon couldn’t recall ever having to be sexy or seductive in a concept before, even as trainee’s when the company had you do battle of the sexes. “Do you have some lyrics?” “Yeah, here.” ‘Fear not my temptation, but deliver me from the thoughts in my own head. Using my voice, I’ll promise to make these boys wind up dead.’ “So you’re basically using boys as playthings and then killing them, praying mantis style?” “Basically, yes.” “Want to hop into the booth and try some stuff?” Hopping up from his couch and placing the heavy black headphones on your ears, a sultry piano and bass riff played. You sang the lyrics both you and Jihoon were coming up with on the spot, not realizing the way you were swaying under the pink lighting of his booth. Touching your body slightly, getting into the groove of the song. “Uh, y/n?” “Yeah?” “Can you stop moving like that? I mean I like it, but it’s a little distracting.” “Oh my god, sorry I didn’t even know I was doing that.” “You’re lucky you’re cute.” “So the seduction of the song is working, is what you’re saying though?” “A little too well.”

seokmin:

Seokmin was the most supportive friend you could ever ask for. He wasn’t shy to tell you how amazing you did while performing or how beautiful you looked in and out of your stage costumes. When he took his seat next to the rest of the boys in the glass box of the arena for your debut showcase. He wore the merchandise and clung onto the picket with your face on it out of anticipation to actually get the opportunity to watch you perform without him. As soon as the lights went down on the stage, the crowd began cheering your fan chant, he studied their words and joined in himself, forcing the rest of your team to do the same. The pitch black room filled with screams made his heart pound fast. Why was he so nervous? You came into his view, the bright stage lights bouncing off of your glowing frame, he noticed your smile as the song began to play. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he watched your interactions with the rest of the girls, the fans, and even the sneaky look up to him. He truly felt like your fan girl, singing along with you, dancing the choreography, and shouting your name louder than anybody in the room. The rest of the members tried to get his attention, but he was so intoxicated by watching you that he didn’t hear them. His fixated gaze on you had others watching him watch you. When it was all finally over, Seokmin couldn’t leave his seat for a good five minutes, his heart was beating faster than it should. The guys pulled him backstage to congratulate you. His hands were sweating now, pulling up to your door. Seeing you open it, now in a matching gray sweatsuit, halfway done with taking your makeup off. You hugged the various members and saved Seokmin for last. Whispering in his ear how grateful you were for him. The rest of the guys sat around teasing your biggest fan, laughing at the videos they took as he watched you. You caught a glimpse of his face, a pretend smile clearly embarrassed for the things they were saying. “Okay, guys I’ll meet you at the restaurant. I’m going to take a shower and I’ll be there soon.” With various goodbyes and see you laters you tugged Seokmin back into the room. “Wait. Hold on, mister. You okay?” “Yes, I’m good. I’ll see you at the restaurant, y/n. Good job.” “Stop it. I could tell you were embarrassed by them. Why?” “Not exactly, I guess I should’ve been more careful how I was reacting out there with all your fans. If they have those videos then someone else does too. I’m sorry.” “Why are you sorry? Those are the sweetest videos ever. You looked so happy, Seok.” “I feel like I embarrassed you or something.” “You? You could never embarrass me. I love you. Wait here? Come to the restaurant with me.” “ I’ll wait for you always.” “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” And with a peck on Seokmin cheek, you both spent the night reading all the comments about how sweet his support for you was.

mingyu:

Mingyu got the opportunity to be a special MC for the week of your group's new debut, meaning he would get many opportunities to see you and your friends in action on stage and interview you during the broadcast. When the time finally came and you were waiting for your interview he was prompted by the producer to take the side of the interview stage next to you, simply because fans would love it. Watching you parade onto the stage in your small denim shorts and corset top adorned with black ribbons and lace, made Mingyu’s heart swell. The way your newly blonde hair cascaded down your exploded back was distracting him from his duties as host, just up until the slate came into his view. “Hello, everyone, welcome back we’re here celebrating a new debut today, please welcome Spice. Hello hello.” Claps rung through the studio as your eyes linger on Mingyu’s exposed fangs. “Mingyu, what is it like seeing y/n up here with a group other than Seventeen? Jealousy? Happiness?” Jungwoo’s comments made the rest of your team giggle, watching the over six foot man still tower over you while you stood on the riser next to him. “Jealousy, for sure” “And y/n or the rest of spice how do you girls feel having a self proclaimed kpop fossil in your midst, how are you dealing with her ex-members? Are they in your business all the time? Do they offer advice?” “Well, I know Mingyu’s lying when he says he’s jealous. He actually texted me last night and told me he was proud of me and excited I’m out of his hair now.” Your members agreed with you, stating they saw the text too while you were all preparing for your showcase. “That’s not true. The pride was, but we miss having y/n around to keep us in check.” “Okay, Spice members, we wanted a sneak peak of your debut stage for your song ‘Red Lips’ which one of you would like to give us a little tutorial on the choreography and an intro to the song?” Unanimously your members chose their leader, you to give the two boys a sneak preview of your new track. “Spice’s famous leader y/n, let’s go. Music Queue.” You began the point dance by squatting, tracking your movements with your hands up your body, before spinning your frame around so your back was facing the camera with your hurt in full display. When the clip ended Mingyu put his large frame in front of you so the camera couldn’t hold the shot too long, protecting the last of the innocence you once had when he met you. When your interview was finally over you and Mingyu ended it with a tight hug where he picked you up off your feet that was caught on camera. Safe to say the internet shippers went wild for a long time after that.

minghao:

Minghao was doing an interview for a fashion magazine alongside the other 97’ members where they were being asked about some of their favorite things. Mingyu brought up your group's new song ‘Pure’ and Seokmin brought up how beautiful the music video was, both of them talking over each other about how fun the song is, and how it makes them feel excited when they work out. Minghao was just sitting nodding along, non-verbally agreeing that your group had some of the best new music in the industry and that you’ll be the next breakout idol group. The interviewer then asked other than the newest song by you, which song was their favorite, just keeping the conversation going. Mingyu still answered ‘Pure,’ Seokmin said it was the ballad of your album called ‘Skeletons.’ And Minghao said your first title track, ‘All Over.’ Which was actually banned in many schools for being too addictive, mainly due to the content of the video or maybe the explicit lyrics. When he was asked to elaborate he just simply said that he loves when people feel confident enough in themselves to do whatever they want. The clip was circling the internet, making silly jokes about how maybe Minghao sits around, watching you do scandalous moments for his own pleasure. Which was far from the truth, but he didn’t mind. Getting the opportunity to perform at the same time as you on a music show meant he would get to see the song live for the first time. He watched your group parade around the stage in small skirts and button down tops, imagining himself doing the partner choreography with you instead of the dancer you got assigned. When it was finished you came off the stage, right into his view. “Better in person?” “Maybe. I don’t think you're very into your dance partner though, no chemistry.” “Really? He’s cool and not bad on the eyes, but yeah he’s not very interesting. Kind of a wet blanket actually.” “A wet blanket?” “Yeah, you know no substance. Soggy, whatever.” “Maybe you should ask to swap to someone else?” “No, it’s alright. He did try to ask me out at practice the other day though, literally in the exact moment we were doing that wild floor part, not really the best moment to ask someone out when they’re on top of you. But, go off.” “He asked you out?” “Yes..” “Why? What the hell. That’s unprofessional.” “It’s okay, Hao. I told him no.” “You really should get a new partner.” “Like who?” “Me. I can think of lots of other stuff to ask you if you’re on top of me.” “Oh my god.” “Wait, that came out so wrong. Not what I meant.” “Are you sure? I was a little excited.” “Oh. Well in that case, meet me later in the practice studio. Let’s try it out.” “You’ve got yourself a deal, partner.”

seungkwan:

After watching your debut, Seungkwan was wildly proud and supportive. He’s watched your confidence grow an exceptional amount alongside him. The praise from the fans felt like it was for him a little bit too, not in a selfish way but just because you blossomed into adults together. A few of the idols from your company got asked to be a part of a reality show about a day in the life of an idol, you and seungkwan both agreed knowing it would be fun to do together, especially since you haven’t had many opportunities to interact due to your busy schedules. For promotions of the new season you were paired together for interviews with various magazines and online programs. In the interview with Marie Claire the journalist had you play a game of truth or drink where you sat facing each other and the table between you had stacks of questions. You both were doing well, laughing, getting slightly buzzed on the shots of tequila that were provided until Seungkwan pulled a truth question, trying to buy himself a chance to skip a drinking turn. “What would you do if another idol was making a pass at the other player in front of you? How would you react?” “What kind of question is that? Drink, Kwan” “Can I pick another one?” You and Seungkwan were giggling and laughing over the prospect of someone making a pass at one of you in front of the other, the PA prompted him to either answer or move on, he wasn’t able to pick another option. “Ok, I’m going to drink.” “Ah, come on. Now I’m curious.” “I’ll tell you later.” Seungkwan and you finished up the last of your interviews and headed into the black suv parked outside of the studio. “So tell me now about that question.” “It’s just weird to think about anybody asking you out, I mean I know some have tried, but you’ve always turned it down. If someone did it in front of me? Damn. I’d probably laugh in their face first of all, which is rude I know. After that I’d probably yell at them how disinterested you would be.” “But, what if it’s someone I’m interested in?” “Please, who are you interested in, you've never said anything before?” “You.” “No way. Stop fucking around, y/n.” “I’m serious. Deadly actually. I’ve always had a crush on you, why would any sane single person turn down half of these guys that are asking me out unless they’re interested in someone else.” “You’re sane?” “Shut up. I’m being serious. Stop being an ass, I’ll cry.” “Then if I send your manager a card asking for permission to date you, will you accept it?” “Why not just ask me yourself?” “I’m a traditionalist.” “Then you’ll just have to see what she says when you do.”

vernon:

Naturally Vernon wasn’t a jealous guy, he was just some dude that couldn't care less what other people were up to. He was so excited when he heard that you’d be debuting with new girls at the company, proud that they chose you to lead them with all of your experiences alongside him and the other members of your group. You and Vernon always had a special bond being the same age, having similar stories of how you became an idol, he appreciated having someone around who could understand him only through body language as did you. He came to surprise you and your new team on the day of your debut, carrying coffees, helping the staffers with luggage’s, bandaids, holding the hair and makeup team's bags. He really just wanted to show you he cared and was excited that you were moving on to bigger and better experiences in this industry. Vernon was never one to ask too many in depth questions about concepts and costumes, he knew the company would take care of you and he didn’t want to spoil the surprise for himself. As you were getting ready to take the stage, your manager asked him if he wanted to take a seat with them backstage and watch the view from the side. He told them no, mainly because he didn’t want to be a distraction and also everybody knows the side view is never exciting to see for the first time. As the team filtered out of your holding room Vernon took his place on the leather couch, watching your unit get into their positions. He never noticed your outfit until now, a black leather jacket, tight white tank top, and a pair of tight leather shorts with garters attached running the length of your bare legs all the way down to your chunky loafers. It’s not that he never thought you were beautiful before, but something changed now. He decided to open his Twitter app, seeing what people were saying about your group as you continued your performance. Vernon wished he hadn’t seen the comments about you made by men over half your age about what they’d like to do to you after seeing your bare legs. Suddenly he realized he wasn’t the only one gunning to be with you, but he was the only one who stood a chance.

chan:

Chan always made you feel special, when he heard your group's new song it gave him an idea to beg your production team for a cut so he could create a Danceology as a surprise. Something big and dramatic to make you feel good and maybe a little to impress you. He enlisted the help of his friends Yeonjun and Changbin to make it extra fun for his fans to see three well liked idols performing a sexy girl group choreography made by him. The day came where it was about to be uploaded, so he arranged a small get together with the two of you to watch it’s release on YouTube, you weren’t sure why he asked you to come hangout with his friends and do a weverse live with him, but you never missed a chance to see him especially now with your busy schedules. “Hello guys. So we’re doing this very special live for y/n actually. I have a surprise.” “A surprise? It’s not my birthday, channie.” “Doesn’t matter. I may or may not have made a very special danceology episode for you.” “What the fuck, oh sorry. What? Why did you do that?” “Because I wanted to, the reason we’re here on live with everyone is to watch it before it goes up and you can see it before they do. Sorry everyone.” “Okay, yes. Thank you, show me, show me, show me.” “Alright, y/n may I present to you a special danceology to Spice’s ‘Pitch Black.” The pair of you both clapped your hands as your manager pressed play revealing Chan, Changbin, and Yeonjun wearing black tank tops and different shades of ripped jeans, a match from the music video your group had just released. “Oh my god. This is insane.” Chan didn’t say anything back, but just kept watching you watching his gift for you, until he noticed your eyes click to one of the other three in the trio. A gut feeling had him knowing that your attention wasn’t only on him, but he shoved it down until the fade out of the song came on. “Wow. You guys killed that shit. Yeonjun and Changbin thank you guys too, it was amazing. Thank you.” “You liked?” “Chan, it was so good. That part where Yeonjun came into the front and did the hip swivel thing? Iconic.” “What about me?” You ruffled his hair, laughing confused why he was so serious after you made the comment about his tall friend. “You looked very cute.” “Cute? That’s it.” Aware you were still broadcasting live, you pulled your phone out to text Chan and remind him of it, he told the fans that you guys will come back after going out for some dinner to talk more and reminding them to watch the video before you go live again before saying goodbye. “What was that, y/n?” “What? It was amazing, I told you? Did I say something wrong?” “It’s nothing, just nevermind. Let’s go get some food.” “No come on, no angry eating. What’s wrong?” “Just, I guess I’m jealous. I did all of that for you and you were stuck watching my friend. I’m sorry.” “Because I complimented him on one part over you? That doesn’t mean anything, you were so good. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire time aside from that. You were amazing.” “Yeah, emphasis on cute huh?” “If I tell you how sexy you look, will you stop pouting and buy me dinner?” His award winning smile crept onto his lips. “Only if you tell me ten more times.”

#❃ - duffytalks #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines

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melancholysway · 1 year

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Holy nunchuuuuuuucks, I can't believe I'm here again, why do you have to tempt me so?! Anyway! 2007, the turtles' SO bonds with Splinter and for a while everything is incredibly good but then here comes the awkward childhood photo or memory!

Got you! so sorry for the wait, college is overwhelming rn but when is it not tbh

I haven't forgotten about the other requests ya'll have sent me btw! I'm just getting it done at a snail's pace LMAO

TMNT 2007 Imagines: Embarrassing Photos

I’m doing this formatted to where the S/O meets Splinter! There’s a fic at the end with your turtle of choice :)

Key: --- followed by italics = flashback is happening or ending

Leonardo

Leo has an awkward photo of him drooling while sleeping as a kid

Though that habit is long gone, he still shudders at the thought

Cannot believe he used to drool until he saw the photo

Brings it up one day when talking to you about each other’s childhood memories

“I um…I used to drool as a kid.”

He used to sleep in a big pile of pillows and blankets with the rest of his brothers, but he would always wind up being cuddled with Donnie, as he moved the least in his sleep (mikey kicked, HARD.)

He doesn’t tell you about the PHOTO master splinter has of it

This is early on in the friendship turned relationship, and when you get comfortable talking to Master Splinter for long periods of time (it was scary in the beginning, because, well, he was a giant rat who could read literally anyone,) he does his favorite thing: whip out the photo album

While Leo is in the dojo meditating, the others joke around and tell Splinter to show the Leo photos

And he does

And oh, he doesn’t hold back.

Raphael

Raphael had a teddy bear when he was younger

He was emotionally attached to that thing, seriously

Not really an awkward memory, but embarrassing for him

Splinter remembers Teddy all too well, seriously.

He has a photo of Raph and Teddy somewhere, though Raph never told you about it at all

“Teddy!” - 6 year old Raph

Oh, Teddy.

Attachment issues incoming

Wouldn’t let splinter wash it because he didn’t want Teddy to get hurt

He had to steal it from him while he was sleeping just to wash him

Raph literally could tell the difference right away and got sad

It reflects on him now, Raphael (as much as he may deny it) doesn’t like being lonely. He likes to have someone there (either to bother, talk to, smack, all of the above.) He NEEDS his brothers.

After getting to know Splinter more, he gives more details of the turtles’ upbringing, and (segue) whips out the photo book to show you all the turtles as tots

Donatello

Donnie has one photo of Raph dunking him in the tub while the others laughed

Its truly menacing, but Donnie kind of just

Represses it

It’s a really embarrassing moment, and luckily splinter caught it right in 4K

Once you begin dating donnie, you go up to splinter one day while he’s cleaning the bookshelf as you watch him pull out the photo album

He gives you this smile as if he knows you’re wanting to see the baby donnie photos

Don’t tell donnie by the way

Raph and Donnie used to be on and off besties, they would fight one day then be hanging out the next. If Leo was trying to get Mikey to stop crying, Raph and Donnie were being devious together somewhere in the Lair

Raph brings up dunking Donnie often, especially if they’re at the Farmhouse. He’ll just casually bring it up like, “remembah when I used ta dunk your ass when we were kids?”

Cue Donnie speed swimming out the lake and onto dry land

Michelangelo

Mikey cried, A LOT

He cried for basically anything and everything

Too cold? Cried. Too hot? Cried. Just right? He’d find a reason to cry anyway

One time Raph smacked Mikey a little too hard, and he cried for a solid hour

Im talking ugly crying drool snot everywhere

He was not letting that go

Raph apologized (many many times)

Donnie thinks he was being a drama queen

Leo suggests that it would make a funny childhood memory, and Splinter laughed at that and snapped a photo of Mikey as he was calming down and hiccuping after getting a hug from Raphael

It’s actually a cute photo, but Mikey still gets mad about it for some reason

Thinks about his cry baby days a lot, but honestly, the crying got him what he wanted at times

Especially from Donnie

Leo was Mikey’s favorite brother and vice versa, Leo would always try and help Mikey when he was crying (which was very often)

He tried to be funny or comfort him, either way, it made their bond stronger

“And this,” Splinter points at the photo, “is a memory I find rather amusing from my son.”

You try to contain your laughter, but the way your boyfriend looks as a child is too cute and too comical to not laugh at. “Do not hold back your emotions, laugh all you want.” The rat says at he notices you trying to contain yourself.

It’s probably one of the funnier photos you’ve seen of your boyfriend so far. Though, he sort of told Master Splinter to never show anyone. However, you weren’t just anyone. You had legal right to see it.

You would take this witnessing to the grave, but it’s always nice to know more about your turtle’s past. Though him and his brothers had a nice childhood with what Splinter was able to do for them, they had ups and downs as well.

If anything, Splinter did everything in his power to give them a seemingly normal childhood. They did what normal kids did:

Leo just so happened to drool a lot when sleeping. Splinter points to the photo of Leo on a mountain of blankets, and his closed eyes and unconscious self completely oblivious to the drool coming out at the time. He must've had a good dream. Leo sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and wipes his mouth to see if he drools. He doesn't wanna drool on you if you're sharing a bed together. He doesn't drool anymore, but, he still has to make sure. If you sleep together often, he waits for you to fall asleep first.

Raph had attachment issues to a stuffed animal. It's such a cute photo of Raph hugging onto his teddy bear for dear life on the couch during the early morning. He slept with it all the time. Raphael has shown a few times where he has to cuddle you. He's touchy, all the time. He feeds off of physical touch. Don't tell anyone, but he probably couldn't go a day without kissing you or hugging you in some way.

Donnie was used as collateral by his other siblings. This photo has to be a core memory for Donnie. It's an action shot of Raph dunking him halfway in the tub water, while Leo and Mikey giggle on the opposite side of the tub. It's probably why he never likes to go in the lake while Raph's in it when you all take a trip to Casey's grandma's farmhouse in the summer. Though he knows you can't physically dunk him, Donnie thinks about if you'll just turn around and do it while you're taking a relaxing bath together.

Mikey cried a lot. Though, even human kids probably didn’t cry as much as Mikey did. You see the photo of Mikey crying while Leo tries to comfort him, and Splinter mentions that Mikey would cry for practically any and everything. Mikey doesn't cry now, but he has this puppy-dog look he gives you whenever he wants to do something with you or wants something from you.

As you had only been dating him for a few months now, you were still uncovering pieces to a fun little puzzle that was the sewer life.

You continue looking at the photo of your boyfriend, seeing how small he was back then, compared to now. He's a...big, muscular turtle. How his tiny shell doesn't compare to the one he has now. But, his facial features are all the same.

“How’d you do it?” You turn to Splinter, “I mean, raise them?”

Master Splinter smiles, and leads you to the family portrait of all of them together. Though not kids anymore, this was taken recently. Before Leo left for South America a few years back. It was a sort of farewell photo, as per Leo’s request. He was always a family-oriented turtle.

And now, here comes the origin story of said photo.

---

“Tha flash is too damn bright, Genius!” Raph scolds his younger brother- Donnie- after he complained for the 5th time that Raph’s eyes were closed.

“I can’t make it any more dim, hothead!”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty! My face hurts,” Mikey whines, “are we done?”

“Not until Raph beats the try not to blink for 5 seconds challenge.” Donnie snaps.

“Not until Don here stops tryin’ ta give his family a seiz’a from tha damn flash!”

“Raphael, language.” Splinter interrupts, scolding the second oldest turtle in red.

“Guys, I want a good photo before I leave. Can we all be civilized for 5 seconds?” Leo huffs. He leaves his spot from the frame and finds a way to shut off the flash. It wasn’t needed, anyway.

“Now was that so hard, Einstein?” Raphael turns to Donnie once again, only to get a subtle middle finger as a response that Splinter couldn’t see and scold Don for.

And finally, after all that bickering, they got the photo done. It comes out really good, and Mikey boasts about how he was always the most handsome turtle out of all of them.

“Dude, I’m gonna miss you,” Mikey says, this is the last day they’ll be together before Leo leaves, and it gets a little emotional. Mikey’s back to his old ways, almost crying as he runs to give his older brother a tight hug.

Donnie’s gonna miss Leo, too. But instead of crying, he just has a sad look on his face. He was never one to cry, really.

Raph, on the other hand, is stoic. He doesn’t show his emotions. But, he’s gonna miss his older brother. A lot. Probably more than the others. What is he gonna do without him? Could he even function without him?

“I’m gonna miss you too little brother,” Leo hugs a crying Mikey, “I’m gonna miss all of you. Truly.”

---

The family photo holds more meaning than the others, and Splinter cherishes it so much.

“I did what I could,” Splinter says, “And…though I know not to be arrogant or smug, I believe I did a great job with them.”

They are strong, loyal, and amazing turtles that protect the city. If anything, Splinter just made the best heroes in the world. If only the world knew about his accomplishment.

You smile at your boyfriend’s sensei, “I agree with you. I mean, who else could protect New York City as good as your sons?”

You weren’t wrong, either. You remembered the first time you met the turtles, and your soon-to-be boyfriend. You knew the police took their sweet ass time with responding to crimes, so you sort of had to deal with whatever hardship on your own. But a gang? No.

So, yes, you were forever in debt with the turtles, but you couldn’t complain. They were four distinct personalities, and were so interesting that you just had to know more.

And honestly, this “embarrassing photo” did just that. As you and Splinter continued to go through the photo album, he gave background on each photo you saw. It was your first time ever going through the book, as Splinter never really had this much time with you one on one to do this, but you enjoyed it. It appeared that Splinter did, too. The wrinkly smile that was plastered on his fuzzy face truly showed his content. He loved to reminisce and remember about the old times, and how quick time passes. Time is a thief, and he was lucky enough to have captured those moments.

Especially the one photo of your boyfriend.

The photo that you wanted a copy of, so you could keep it in your own personal album at home, where it would be safe, and you could pull it out whenever you needed a good cheering up or giggle.

Splinter did an amazing job with his sons, and though he probably skipped on the relationship advice thinking it wasn’t possible, your boyfriend was doing great with you.

/// Taglist:

@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside Masterlist

I might start adding polls to my future posts for yall to vote on if you liked it or not :) just to see what people enjoy/don't enjoy

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo #raphael #leonardo #donatello #tmnt 2007 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raph #2007 leo #2007 raph #tmnt fanfics #tmnt headcanons #tmnt imagines

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melodyofthevoid · 7 months

Text

A Deep Dive of The Crane Wives: Foxlore

(Lmao it rhymes) Alright folks! Last full album (for now), just the singles still left to go!

The most recent album not including the live release, Foxlore thrives on the lively and quick, trickery as devious on both ends as the fox itself. It’s about outsmarting your enemies, outsmarting your demons, and avoiding getting tricked yourself. There is a brighter quality to the music, even in the quiet moments. Biblical references are scattered throughout, often a rejection of common thought in favor of independence.

Nothing At All

Warnings can take many forms, sometimes they’re haunting tales, voices in the dead of night crying their tale out into the mists. Other times they’re howled, bared teeth and claws displayed for all to hear. And sometimes, sometimes a warning can be gentle, a hand on a shoulder that guides you to sit for a moment and listen. A bright guitar that carries something heavy alongside it.

The singer speaks of happiness first. Pursuing happiness, chasing that elusive dream, it’s what makes life happen, is it not? Day in day out there’s a never ending stream of options all claiming to help you be happy, to find happiness, bottle it, drink it, capture it. But true happiness, the man who wants nothing at all, well that’s a state that no one can keep forever. Distancing and letting that fire die, it’s easier than chasing after it. Isn’t it?

The singer asks the one listening if they want nothing at all, replying that they do. They’re without desire and… perhaps without direction.

A short confession, this is one of the songs where I for a long time misheard the lyrics, and this opening verse is no exception. Instead of “So long as the fire, getting weak, contained” I heard “So long as the fire can be contained”. A warning of temperament and realistic expectations for life. In keeping a level head, you can find happiness where you’re at, at least, in this version.

The singer then speaks of the other end, of pursuing and end to pain. Longing to dull the ache that haunts them, longing to “feel nothing”. That endless void of distant emotion where nothing can hurt them ever again. But again, this is nothing more than a fallacy, feeling nothing means cutting out the joys in life too, never opening up. Pain does not define a person, to only be what hurts you is such a limited view of a person that reduces them, however the contrast of joy and pain, giving the highs a low to tower above.

The misheard lyrics here change “handle pain, doesn’t define a man, it sure lends a hand getting measured in the sweeter parts of life” to “I know pain does indeed find a man, it sure lends a hand in measuring the sweeter parts of life”. Painting pain as an inevitable part of life but one that can be overcome and accentuating the blessings that life brings as well.

Singing a new chorus, they ask if the listener feels nothing at all, again stating that they do. They feel nothing, and the anguish bleeds into every note until they break and say that they’d never wish that on the singer. Warning them to avoid their fate.

Refrains of “Do you ever feel nothing at all” and “Do you ever want nothing at all” echo in a round, as though the singer is speaking more to themselves than to their audience, trailing off as they seemingly come to a quiet realization that they can’t continue like this.

Now, normally I wouldn’t include misheard lyrics, as they’re not the author’s intent and this is no different, however I think they speak to the themes of this song on a personal level. To me, the song was a helpful and gentle guide, not a warning of a similar fate. But in the end, does that matter? If the message to not shy away from life, from all of its possibilities rings true, then isn’t that enough?

I Talk In My Sleep

Sleeping alongside another, finding that long sought after companionship, it can make the long nights softer, for having someone there to share it with. Unless, of course, there’s more between the two than simply pillows. The singer talks in their sleep into the darkness, the only one who’s listening to their plight as their partner sleeps beside them unaware. Dreaming of everything but them. Maybe their partner did dream of them once, maybe they were closer, but not now. Now they speak their troubles only to that which cannot respond.

Trouble plagues the singer, demons of the past, twisting their words and leaving them haunted. Their partner has no clue, whenever they leave for whatever reason, the demons come in closer, grip them tighter. And they won’t tell their partner, out of fear, out of shame. It’ll be easier if they keep it to themselves… won’t it?

Even if their partner did listen to the things that they said in their sleep, would they even understand? Would they understand their problems and worries? Or would they simply turn over and go back to sleep, ignoring the hurt and anguish that echoes in the room. A cloud of regrets that looms over the both of them as they try to pretend that everything is alright.

But that won’t solve the issue, won’t make that dark cloud disappear, and in the end, it gets to be too much. And they finally confess that they’re not alright. That there’s so much weighing on their mind. Maybe it won’t fix everything, and the distance between them might win out, but it’s better than pretending that nothing’s wrong at all.

Down the River

Sometimes, you want to give second chances to those that hurt you, in spite of knowing better. Wanting to believe that the person you want, that you hope they could be will come through in the end. But that isn’t the case, is it? Because this isn’t the first time, or the second.

The singer ruminates on the fact that they keep holding out for this person, waiting for evidence that they were wrong about them. That they’re going to own up to all of the damage and make amends. Then again, why would they? If they’ve still not changed their ways by now, they’re never going to.

What fun is there in sticking around to see the results of the damage done? After all of the entertainment of the betrayal, there’s nothing else to do. They’ve lost the trust so, better to find a new fool to pull the wool over.

Then that leaves the singer and all of the previous victims to handle the hurt on their own. The deceiver free to live and act as they please without the weight of guilt but them? They’re left with those scars to handle. They can’t run from that, they can’t simply shake off the years of trust shattered.

The singer was, as they put it, sold down the river, an euphemism born of the American slave trade. The Mississippi and Ohio rivers were common routes of transporting slaves, and to be sold down that route, typically meant being sold to a cotton plantation in the deeper South. A deep betrayal, and one that came at a steep price. Over the years the saying has lost much of its deadly connotations over the centuries but is understood as a betrayal at its core. Selling out someone else for personal gain.

The con-artist, the liar, the cheat, they’re going to skip town and find some new sucker to hurt because that’s the easier solution. Never content to let the dust settle around their feet lest the consequences catch up to them. They’ve got enemies after all, and those enemies probably want blood. With such a collection of names in their wake, one almost wonders if there’s somewhere that they hide away to keep their secrets safe, or if they leave it behind and never think about it again. It doesn’t look like it affects them in any way, doesn’t haunt their actions, so why assume that will change?

In the end, when it comes to people like this, who use and discard as they please, there’s not going to be a cathartic ending. No ending confrontation that sees them getting their due. It’s no use waiting for them to come around and change, it’ll only drag you down. Better to curse their name and walk away, be better in spite of them. And maybe, privately, wish for their downfall. It’ll come by their own hands eventually.

Ribs

The biblical tale of Adam and Eve, the giving of a rib to create a perfect “companion”, is a familiar tale to many in the United States and in other Christian majority nations. God making woman second, making her, in some eyes, “lesser” because she’s born from man rather than her own being. This is a rejection of that premise, that the tales of old define who one is now. The narrator may not be so removed from the narrative, however.

Marrow from Adam’s rib may have made Eve, made to be a companion and servant, but that isn’t the case for the singer. No man gave a piece of them to make her, not in the biblical sense anyhow, she is independent and free, of her own. Her heart may be battered by the elements, all of life’s hardships, but it is a burden she takes on herself. How lucky, she remarks, that all of her ugly and human organs are her own. No man dictates her actions, plays with her free will. She is the master of her own fate, however flawed or messy it may be.

Lilith is, in some texts, the first woman, crafted by God independent of Adam and expelled from Eden due to her refusal to submit to either of them. Building a life, a kingdom of her own both around her heart and away from the eyes of history. Her name has faded generally from public consciousness, untold by further translations of the Bible and being relegated to the role of a demon, a temptress by the sources that still mention her name. Her legacy today is a mixed one, for some a wicked morality tale, and for others a source of inspiration.

Yet this is no matter for the singer, be she Lilith or simply someone inspired by her story. Her empire, the world around her is untamed and unmoved by the words of liars and those who’d seek to chain her up.

The dark, the night, forces that frighten others are embraced by the singer, she chose to close her eyes to the light, to live in the darkness. Often, God is portrayed as the light, and she shuns it, embracing a life without on her own terms.

As time has gone on, the origin of humans has shifted (at least generally) from the dust of the ground, the forming by Godly hands to a more scientific origin. Views of women have changed (...somewhat) over time, and the singer implores that young girls not buy into any armor, any claims that she needs to change herself to be stronger, be tougher to survive. That she has to conform to someone else’s idea, her ribs are her own. Her body is her own.

And that is all they need.

Can’t Go Back

Sometimes, we fuck up. Badly. We make mistakes that we can’t take back no matter what we do and have to live with the consequences. It haunts no matter what you try and do to mend it, regret pulling on your heart and imploring you to sink deeper into your misery. Because it’s comforting to sit in that hurt forever, isn’t it? To feel like a monster, or a failure, reliving that moment over and over again. There’s an element of self-flagellation to it, as if that suffering makes you more righteous, and yet.

Sometimes someone comes in, wipes the tears from your face and tells you it’s okay. The singer guides you to try to forgive yourself. Yes, you might’ve sinned, but there’s a lesson to be learned in there, something to take away and move forward with. It’ll hurt, sure, but the rest can be left behind. It doesn’t serve a purpose to sit in self-loathing, there’s more life out there to live if you reach out.

Because you can’t go back to fix it. What’s done, is done. It’s time to move on, stop trying to dig up the past. Bringing it back to the surface won’t bring catharsis or relief, only reveal the rot that's set in as time wears on. All there’s left to do is carry on living as best you can. There will be a whole life ahead of those moments, whether you move on or not, so better to try, right?

And it may not be fair, it may not be within your control, but when has life ever been fair? For anyone? Maybe it’s not alright now, maybe it won’t be for a while, but all things change, including this. All times end eventually, including the bad times. One day, this will all be a distant memory that maybe you can look back on with fondness, maybe not. It doesn’t matter, you’ll be different, for better or worse remains to be seen but it’s up to you.

In the end, this is a soft lullaby, comfort at a low point, much needed. A hand through your hair as the last sobs leave your body. Ending in a sigh, and exhale of the weight on your back.

Curses

Before going into the meat of this song, let it be known that from a musical standpoint I’m not sure how anything could be improved. The clarinet solo at the beginning took me out and it’s such a bright and cheeky lick that hints at a little mystery. It almost carries the same tone as the main singer really. It makes me smile hearing the warm wooden tones dance in and out throughout the song. Anyways, onto the content.

In the midst of a crisis, there’s always some other crisis about to happen. All of it builds on itself, kindling on a wildfire blazing out of control. Each word compounds the panic, everything going wrong. So wrong in fact, that all methods of extinguishing the fire have failed. The well’s run dry, methods of fixing the problem exhausted. Leaving the walls to start to crumble under the weight of the damage.

But then someone else comes, a breath of fresh air clearing away the haze of the smoke. Sure, the fire’s still smoldering, intensifying, but at least you’re not alone, right? The singer pleads for the other to stay with them in the rubble.

When the house isn’t ablaze, it’s a testament to who they used to be. Giving an elegy for someone who no longer exists. Full of ghosts and cobwebs and regrets. Perfect fodder for another fire, especially when it’s no longer a home. Simply a place of residence.

And like that prayer said at a funeral, all will return to nothing, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, spelling doom for the singer as they try to outrun their problems, their “devil”, with their lover in tow. They hope that maybe, if they run far enough, fast enough, that their lover can give them a sense of peace, put their curses to rest and grant them some small mercy. Make something beautiful out of them.

Though this is a song and dance that they’ve done before. Many many times before, the well worn machine growing tired and sluggish as the singer tries to keep it from revealing her secrets. Too many details slipping through the cracks in their facade that they’re struggling to keep up. They’re on the verge of breaking down entirely. They just want someone to stay in spite of it. To say that there might be something worth saving amongst the wreckage.

That this curse doesn’t define them, even as they struggle. The tragedy and cry for help almost unrecognizable beneath the lively music. It’s a wonderful contradiction, hiding in plain sight. As if making the call for help fun will lessen the sting.

Turn Out the Lights

A quick little tune for the anxious, stating upfront what it’s about. “You don’t have to believe every single thought that tumbles through your head just ‘cause it sounds like you talking.” Sometimes (oftentimes) our minds are unreliable narrators for any number of reasons, jumping to conclusions, exaggerating fears and dangers, intruding on our lives with unwanted impulses or distractions. It can weigh down and make someone feel like they’re the problem, that they are their thoughts. Or someone can get trapped in that loop of negativity because well. It sounds like you.

There’s no quick fix to this, often those demons take many forms and constantly find new ways to badger and berate. All you can do sometimes is just… put them to sleep. Say “not right now” and find some other way to occupy yourself. “Turn out the lights” so to speak.

Even during the daytime they’ll weigh on your shoulders. Occupying your mind as you try to go about your day, constantly distracting… and for what?

In the end, honestly what good comes of endlessly examining your own failures and faults, drowning in anxiety? It doesn’t fix them. It doesn’t make them go away. Worrying that you’re a bad person for this that or the other, regretting past decisions, what does it matter? Taking actions for the future will give you results, not this. Turn off those lights, the singer shrugs, and figure it out.

Pretty Little Things

What’s the saying, words are cheap? Any string of the right phrases and insinuations and you can promise just about anything. Construct a lovely artifice of grand romantic gestures if you add the right actions to it. A bouquet of flowers, some chocolate, etc. Then what happens though? What happens when those words turn sour? When the sweet words and promises ring hollow? When the cycles repeat?

The singer’s first love gave his affections liberally, all lips and hands. Then those affections turned, with the cracks showing, turning to rough callused hands by the end. Implying that the hands that once held and caressed used their strength for… something else entirely. Leaving marks that she can still feel to this day. Touches against skin unseen but very much felt. A phantom limb.

She gets straight to the point from there, telling the one currently wooing her that she doesn’t believe any of what they’re saying. She’s heard them before, and while they’re pretty, they don’t mean much in the long run. Flowers, that common romantic gesture, are compared to those “pretty little things”, it hurts to watch them wilt away into nothing, losing their color, their meaning, until they’re nothing but reminders of what used to be. A lovelier time now long past.

The culmination of her previous relationship left a bitter taste, the trust she put in her partner betrayed and taken advantage of. Trust that she no longer simply allows others to have. It’s a right that is earned, and can be lost just as quickly. Just because someone is handsome with lovely eyes and a quick wit, it doesn’t mean that they deserve to be let in. Red flags often disguise themselves as roses, after all.

At the bridge, she reveals how she pulls them out, by denying what a man wants and watching as he reacts. Is he calm and accepting of her feelings? Is he somewhat hurt but reproachful? Or do the pretty words turn to ash in his mouth?

Now the tables turn, she concedes that perhaps she has been “ruined” as some put it by her previous relationship. Her better parts torn from her, her heart used up (although, not the only thing “used” in some eyes). Such that no one after can possibly enjoy a relationship with her.

Or maybe, and hear me out, that’s all bullshit, and are talking points used to badger and belittle people dealing with trauma from previous relationships (or in some cases having any previous relationships at all) into feeling guilty enough to agree to sleep with them. Or simply as a means to make her feel like shit for turning them down.

Well, in this case it’s not working. The hostile reaction only serving to prove why her distrust exists and why she keeps her barriers high. No pretty little thing is worth the costs, not long term. Even if there’s a lingering sense of loneliness as she repeats the chorus again, as if hoping that maybe next time, they’ll prove her wrong.

Know How

It’s easy to say that things will change, isn’t it? The logical part of the brain can come up with scenarios and plans all it wants, see the end goal at the end of the tunnel… but how to actually get there. How to gather the courage to go out and take that first step, to accept the risks and possible pitfalls that may come and do it. There’s so many questions that it can leave you paralyzed with indecision.

Keeping themselves safe, that’s the priority. Bravery is for other folks, those who can take risks. The singer focuses on the present and the boundaries, keeping themselves sheltered from harm. But their partner is different. Something’s changed in their relationship, the rules redrawn and they’re left scrambling to pick up the pieces. Maybe the change is a move, an ask for separation and space, either way it redefines what they know and well. What now?

They know what they have to do, their heart is telling them in no uncertain terms what it wants, even in spite of them ignoring it in the past. It’s insistent, pushing for change, and they understand it.

They know what they have to do.

They just don’t know how to do it.

They’ve been pulling the wool over their own eyes and blinding themselves to the fact that their relationship is changing. A love once freely given is now retreating and they’re left picking up the pieces attempting to understand what they’re supposed to do now that their constant is gone. Trying to cut themselves free of the net that they wrapped themselves in thinking it’d never strangle them.

Something needs to change. Complacency won’t save them at this point and it’s not as though things will simply go back the way they were. They may not be brave now, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be in the future. Fear is a constant in life, one has to act with it, in spite of it, and do what has to be done.

Not that it’s always clear how.

Not the Ghost

What makes a haunting, really? What is it? A presence lingering in a place after the resident is long gone? A collection of memories that refuse to leave, infused into the very wood of a home? Or perhaps, not a home, a person. Who isn’t haunted by something, or someone. A lover, an ex friend, a family member, whose physical impact on your life has ended but remains regardless. Maybe it’s not even a single person, but a collective. Decisions, events, accumulating over the years. A haunting presence.

The singer beseeches their lover to turn the lamps down low, to dim the lights so only the two of them are visible. Focus only on them, and not the endless dark that surrounds. Not on the future, never to the future. For a moment, they can exist together without any fear… ideally. They warn that there are demons here, that they’ll carry them home. Whether that means alone, bearing the full weight of their mental problems on their back, or that the demons will make themselves known within their home, it’s unclear.

It then shifts into a lament, like the ghosts of many a work of fiction, wishing to break the chains that bind them tight to their burdens. Not of an unfair or unjust death, but of disappointment and of self doubt. Whispers of warnings when their lover is gone, false omens of future woes. They want for more, and that in and of itself does not scare them. All of their burdens, all of what they carry keeps them afraid, though not of the past itself. It’s the fact that it’s still there that haunts them. The fact that it trails after their steps like a shadow that they cannot shake.

That fear that they’ll always be like this. No matter what they do.

Taking a step back, they look at the life they’re living, tied down to their regrets. An anchor forged in anguish and harboring guilt. So long as they sit there, so too will their past, tied and never able to move along. Collecting more mistakes as life continues on, bringing them home to sit and linger.

And maybe one day it'll change, but for now, they sit in that fear until the break of day, hoping their lover stays beside them.

The Garden

Relationships can be a beautiful thing. Trust, companionship built between two people, a life no longer lived alone. However, not every form of love is smiled upon by society. In fact, there’re those who are quite adamant that there is only one true way that love can exist, and anything else is blasphemy. Is sin. Disgusting, a crime, something to be shamed and any who deviate shunned and mocked. Or worse, depending on the community. This leaves any person living in these societies to walk along an eternal tightrope, both trying to stay true to themselves while staying safe.

But that balance can’t last forever.

The singer is frantic as they tell their lover to tear down all the evidence of their love. To bury it beneath their bed in shame. Hide it away, try to keep it hidden. The Crows, they say, are laughing at their expense. Carrion birds that pick at the decaying rot, at the easy victim. They sit within the Garden of Eden, on their high perch. Drowning out any possible excuse the singer could give in mockery.

Despite this, the singer pleads with their lover, their better half. Calling them their shield, their stone, their steady hand. They seek protection from the mockery even as they attempt to hide away. Their lover is their better half, the light in their darkness. It’s closing in as the potential repercussions creep closer too, and there’s nothing that they can do. Feelings torn between wanting to indulge in comfort, or let their lover take them out. The thin line of passion and vulnerability that could be so easily taken advantage of. Still, it’s something beautiful to them.

Something they can hold even as others scorn them, seeing only the bloodstained clothes, the sinner’s garb on the outside. The devil knows their name, they’ve transgressed against God, and it’s only a matter of time.

After their previous indecision, they resolve to remain true to themselves, and their love, laying down in the bed they made together, content to go, let the crows have their way if it means that they’re not separated. The persecution they’ll face, the hammers and nails that will be driven into their skin, they’ll have each other.

Then the mood turns, that quiet acceptance turning to rage as they decide no. They’re not going to simply lay down and let the crows do as they please. This garden is not paradise if there’s so many rules in place. They deserve better, and this place does not deserve to be. They get on their knees and start to tear into the garden, rejecting its promises, its so-called safety and welcome. Cutting down the apple tree. If this is a sin? Then they’ll accept it.

#my writing #the crane wives #whew #finished this one up in about... 2 weeks give or take?#still have about 7 songs to go for the singles #honestly out of all the songs Curses gave me the most trouble #any time I'd think about it I'd bop too hard to the music to actually analyze it #it simply goes too hard #overall really happy with how this turned out!#foxlore

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chaifootsteps · 6 months

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Metallica Anon here responding to Taxidermy Anon's roll call. I'm going to be a little more extensive with my post so grab a snack and a drink. I'm a 31 male and I'm 10 months older than Viv. My story began around November of 2019 when I was (and still am) a member of a forum related to a show that I used to love but completely lose interest in. (If you're wondering what show? Let's just say Blitzø would love it. 😉) Then I noticed a few members had this particular character as their avatars. That character turned out to be Angel Dust of Hazbin Hotel. My curiousity grew and I eventually watched the pilot. I was completely enamored with it. I loved the animation, the characters, the voice acting, etc. Not long after, I began watching Helluva Boss and soon became enamored with show as well. For nearly four years, I was quite emotionally attached to Viv's shows, almost at the level of the cartoons I loved from my childhood. For a while, I thought Hazbin and Helluva could be some of the greatest cartoons in history. Unfortunately, as Phil Collins once sang, something happened to on the way to Heaven.

Actually, three things happened. I'll explain each one.

The Long Wait for Hazbin Hotel: I don't know how or why I managed to hold on for so long, but I did. I've endured HH's signing to A24 in 2020, the voice actor replacement debacle in 2021, and the character "redesigns" in 2022. I remember in November of '22, I had two things to be excited for in '23: the new Metallica album in April and Hazbin in the summer. (At least one of the things happened.)

To occupy my mind, I binge watched a cartoons until Hazbin would air, which I assumed would be as early as June. When June came, a lot of us were expecting at least a trailer. What did we get? A cheap Angel Dust picture! I think this is when my hype for HH began to deflate. Then in July, Viv announced HH would be delayed due to the WGA/SAG strikes. At first, I thought the reasons were understandable, but then found out A24 can promote their stuff during the strikes. This made me feel suspicious on what’s going on. Once summer ended, I officially gave up on Hazbin Hotel… then the trailer came out with a release date, which is JANUARY 2024!

Did the trailer reignite my interest? HAH! No! I’m wasting any more time waiting for this shit! But that’s not the only reason…

The Decline of Helluva Boss: Up until this year, I loved Helluva Boss. I enjoyed the shenanigans of Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, and Loona. I would always find some enjoyment in every episode, even the bad episodes like “CHERUB” and “The Circus.” However, Helluva had long waits between episodes ranging from two to six months. Yet somehow, I endured because at least new episodes were coming out.

Then came the episode “Exes and Oohs.” I hesitated to watch it at first as some previews and clips I saw turned me off. Then I finally watched the full episode… and I absolutely hated it! Unlike the previous bad episodes of HB, I did not find ANY enjoyment in this episode. Then came the episode “Western Energy “and the same happened again. Hesitated to watch at first, finally watched it and absolutely hated it. I began to question myself on why I am I still watching this. Finally came the episode “Unhappy Campers,” and that episode was the final straw for me. That episode made me so angry that I wanted to smash my head into my laptop. Three strikes, you’re out!

Ever since that damn episode, I swore off Helluva Boss. I have not watched a new episode or even rewatched an old episode. It also got me thinking if HB’s writing is this bad, I believe HH’s writing will be just bad or worse. Now let’s get to the source of the shit…

Viv’s True Colors: For a long time, I did not know very much about Vivienne Medrano, her history, or who see really is. I simply viewed her as a regular person who somehow found success in independent animation…

Then came spring 2023 when I learned of the ErinFrost and KenDraws allegations against her by Ayy Lmao’s YouTube videos. Those allegations really got me thinking and my views of Viv began to change. Later in the summer, I began using my abandoned Tumblr account and I stumbled upon the Viv Critical community… and learned everything awful about Viv. Not only is Viv awful, so is her fanbase. I can honestly say that the VivziePop fanbase is probably the most toxic I have ever been in… and this is coming from someone who was apart of another infamous fanbase back in the 2010s. I mean, I have never seen a creator that encourages their fans to attack and send deaths to anyone who has even the slightest bit of criticism.

*sigh* This post has gotten too long so I’m gonna wrap it up. Fuck Viv, she’s a leper messiah. 🖕

-Metallica Anon 🤘

That was a great story, Metallica Anon. Sucks that it had to happen, but if it had to, glad you found your way here!

#Anonymous #metallica anon #vivziepop mention #actual blog post #anon roll call

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avatar-anna · 2 years

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Can you do part 2 to 'traitor'?

the wait is finally over! and, uh, let's just say ms reader has a type lmao

tw: mentions of suicide

part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were walking the streets of LA, marveling at the street lights that lit the sky in lieu of stars. It was cold, but not unbearably so. It was mild enough that instead of wearing your coat, you held it over your arm.

You felt giddy. There was no particular reason, you just felt good. Maybe it was that you saved a life today, or maybe it was that your smoothie this morning was perfectly blended, not a single seed stuck in your teeth, or maybe it was that your boyfriend called towards the end of your shift asking you to come to a special album release party tonight.

There was no reason not to be happy today. Today was a good day, and in your life, your line of work good days were important. And it was about to get so much better.

Dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit that cut your figure perfectly and your most comfortable pair of boots, you felt amazing, you looked amazing, and there was no doubt in your mind about it.

You used to not believe that. There was a dark period in your life where your confidence was practically nonexistent. After your breakup with Harry and the news that he had a girlfriend shortly after, you were beside yourself. You compared yourself to her, wondering what you did wrong or why he chose her over you. Was it because she was thinner and not as curvy? Was it because she fit into his life better, or that she could afford things you couldn't? When you dated Harry, you never questioned any of that, at least not obsessively. He never made you question yourself or your worth. And then you lost him and you lost yourself.

And it didn't help that his fans were comparing you and his new girlfriend too. Everything you wrestled with in your head, they confirmed. Everything you thought about yourself, they multiplied it by a hundred. It was awful. You dropped out of nursing school, you rarely left your house, rarely ate. You were a shell, a husk of the woman you'd once been before all the mess.

You didn't know how to get better, didn't know how to be better. You felt pathetic for letting a breakup get to you, you'd begun to hate yourself—your body, your hair, you couldn't find one thing you liked about yourself, let alone love.

Life was bleak, your mind corrupted by other people's thoughts. You lost sight of what made your life matter, you couldn't come up with a reason as to why you mattered.

And on a particularly dark night, you made a mistake.

But by some miracle, a friend had come to check up on you. You hadn't answered your phone in weeks, you never left the house, and when they got there, your house was in complete disarray. And then they found you, slumped over and not quite on your bed, and not breathing.

They saved your life that day, helped you recover and find happiness again. It wasn't easy, and it was a long, long road, but you made it there eventually.

And then you met him, the love of your life.

You thought you never wanted to be involved with anyone from the music industry again, but Elijah turned your world around. He was charming, sweet, funny, and eventually was the one who encouraged you to finish nursing school, or find something that made you happy. He saw the very best in you and celebrated it. It was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels in love with him. And you did, so much so that you moved across the world to be with him. Eli was willing to move for you, but you wanted a change of pace, some new scenery, and who better with than your sweet American boy?

Your family loved him, your friends loved him, but most importantly you loved him. He was sunshine on a cloudy day, warm chocolate cookies fresh out of the oven, every warm and fuzzy feeling you ever had. He doted on you the way no one else did, always putting you first, always reassuring you that there was no one else for him, until he didn't have to anymore. You were one hundred percent sure that neither of you would ever love anyone else, and that certainty was something you never thought you would ever had, but you were so happy that you did.

eli🥰🥰: are you almost here?

eli🥰🥰: i can't wait to see youuu 😚😚

You couldn't help but smile down at your phone. Typing out a reply, you rolled your eyes at how quickly Elijah responded.

eli🥰🥰: i can't believe you won't tell me what you're wearing 😡

He was so silly, but that was one of the things you liked about him. Elijah didn't take himself seriously. He was fun and adventurous and never failed to make you smile.

you: you'll know soon enough. i'm walking through the doors right now

You finally arrived at the fancy rooftop bar where this party was happening. It was a listening party for Olivia Rodrigo's debut album, an album that Elijah was a songwriter and producer on.

Eli wasn't very well known by the public, but he did a lot of work behind the scenes that people didn't really know about. He loved making music, and that's all he wanted to do. So he didn't drive a super fancy car or throw lavish parties or live that "celebrity" lifestyle that most people in his business did. Eli was, for lack of a better word, a normal guy, and that made it a little easier for you.

Going up the elevator, you listened to the music played as you traveled up. Your stomach knotted into a tight bundle of nerves, the way it always did when you had to go to one of these things. Eli didn't throw any parties, but he went to them occasionally (with you on his arm, of course). He never left your side unless you went to the restroom, and even then he joined you occasionally if he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, and he was right there waiting for you, your favorite drink in his hand. "Baby!"

He was acting like you didn't text him two minutes ago that you were almost there. You hugged him with the same excitement anyway, kissing his cheek a couple times and wiping lip gloss off his cheek when you pulled back.

"Ready to celebrate?" you asked, offering him your arm. You did that at these things because you were so proud of him, and he deserved to be shown off for his hard work.

Eli took your arm and walked with you further into the party. He introduced you to people, told them that you were his rockstar nurse girlfriend. You blushed, but didn't correct him. You were kind of badass.

"There's someone special I want you to meet," he said quietly, tugging you in the direction of a small stage overlooking the city.

Curious, you followed, your eyes widening when you realized who he was taking you to meet. She turned around, her long brown hair whipping around her as she moved. A broad smile stretched across the girl's face.

"Oh my gosh! You must be Y/n! Eli talks about you all the time!" she said, immediately wrapping you up in a hug.

"Hello," you said, your arms wrapping around her hesitantly. "It's so nice to meet you, Olivia."

Despite your boyfriend working on her project, he'd been super hush about it, and you were only familiar with the one song, but you were happy to meet her.

"I—Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing. I was, like, your biggest fan when I was a kid. I would always see you out and was so jealous because you were dating Harry. Styles. And—Oh boy, I'm so embarrassing myself right now, aren't I?"

Olivia's neck and face flushed when you tensed at her explosion of words. You smiled a bit at how she said, "when I was little," but you still felt a little awkward. Pressing yourself against Elijah's side, you said, "It—It's okay, it was a long time ago."

No one really knew much about you outside of your relationship with Harry. After the breakup, you kind of fell off the face of the earth. All social media accounts had been deleted, you never left your apartment, and the few times you did go out, you were bundled up, unrecognizable. The only thing people knew was that you broke up with Harry and he moved on quickly, but that was it. So you knew Olivia didn't mean anything by it, but you always got a little tense whenever Harry was mentioned.

Oh, Harry. What a rollercoaster he'd been on. You didn't really follow his career closely, but it was kind of hard not to be aware of him. He skyrocketed with One Direction and without One Direction. He was everywhere.

He never reached out, never called to apologize. He didn't know anything about what happened to you after the breakup, and his schedule was undoubtedly booked, but it was odd. He was gone, like he'd never existed to you in the first place.

Seeing him so happy and so successful and so happy was hard, but you couldn't really do anything about it. All you knew was that Harry was thriving, and you weren't, and that had been a hard pill to swallow too.

"Ouch, talking about my girl's ex right in front of me, Liv. Now that's just mean," Elijah said jokingly. He was easing the tension that Olivia didn't even know she created, and you squeezed his arm as a thank you.

You chatted to Olivia a little more, liking her bubbly attitude. She buzzed with excitement, and not from any alcohol, as she was underage and the whole party was liquor free. She left with a wave to go talk to her friends, leaving you and Elijah alone.

He pulled you over to the edge of the rooftop, bracing against the railing. "I'm sorry about that," he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. "I know he's a sensitive topic."

You shook your head and took a sip of your drink. "It's fine. I don't know why hearing his name makes me freeze like that. It's been years. Almost a decade."

Eli pulled you closer, taking your drink from you and setting your drink on the balcony so he could hold you close. "You never got closure, and he caused you a lot of pain. It's okay to feel like that."

"I don't deserve you. You're too nice," you mumbled against the soft material of his sweater. Eli of course knew about Harry, he'd been a big help in reminding you of your worth. You'd done all the hard work, but he reminded you to take it easy and not be so hard on yourself.

"No, no, no," Eli said, taking your face between your hands so you looked him in the eye. "You deserve it all, baby. And I'll remind you every day of that until you believe it on your own."

"Fuck off, you're gonna make me cry," you said, leaning back against his chest. You felt the vibrations in his chest as he laughed.

Both of you were silent for a moment, and then he said, "You should talk to him."

"What?" You stood up straight, confused at his suggestion. "Why would I—I don't even—"

"You need closure," Elijah said, smoothing your hair back from your face. "You've struggled so much, and he was the root of a lot of it. You've come a long way, but you need to close that chapter of your life. He needs to know how much he hurt you."

What Eli was saying was right, he had hurt you, and you never really got closure from that relationship, even if you were the one to end things. But did you even want to see him? How would you even get ahold of him if you did?

"I'll think about it," you said. "Now, enough about me. This is your night, love, and this is no way to celebrate."

"Perhaps you're right, but I have one more surprise for you," Eli said, kissing your forehead.

"Huh?"

This was Elijah's party, or Olivia's party, really. What surprise could be in store for you?

You found out soon enough. At one point during the night, Olivia stepped up on the stage to say a few words. She talked about how truly appreciative of all the support from the people in front of her, and how she couldn't make this album without her producers, friends, and family, Elijah's name being one of the names she listed.

And then she presented her album. Sour. You stood in front of Eli, his arms wrapped around you and swaying as you listened to the album. When the first song ended, he leaned close to your ear so he could quietly say to you, "Listen closely to this one, baby."

You were going to listen closely to all of the songs, but now you were really confused. From what Olivia said in her little speech, this was a breakup album. If this was your boyfriend's cruel, sadistic way of breaking up with you, then you needed to prepare yourself.

But as you listened to the song, you realized it sounded familiar, and not just the concept, the actual words being sung. They were words you'd written in a journal years ago when you were at your lowest. It felt weird to hear someone sing your experience like it was there, but you thought if anyone could relate to your pain, it was Olivia (even you knew about the drama with her ex and the "blonde girl").

When you first met, you had walls up as high as the sky. You thought it would make him less interested, but he never stopped trying. Even so, you didn't know how to talk to him. You wanted to open up, but you didn't know how.

So you showed him your journals. Everything you couldn't say was right there written down for him to read, to make him understand why you were the way that you were. It was a long night with lots of crying—mostly on Eli's part—but it brought you closer than ever before.

And then later that night you were in bed together. Fully clothed, not even cuddling, just laying side by side. Eli looked over at you and said, "You're a good writer, you know."

You shrugged at the time, not thinking much of it. "I don't know, I just wrote how I felt."

"Yeah, but it's the way you said it. You just framed it really nicely, is all. Would make for a good song."

"You think?"

"Uh huh. But I would never do that without your permission or anything. That's your life. Your experience."

You told him he could if he wanted, but wait until the time was right to give it away. You didn't know if he ever actually did it, or if he did and kept it to himself. Until now, of course. It was undeniably your journal entries put into a song.

You'd wished you'd been given a little warning, but you were supportive nonetheless. It was just a surprise. Those conversations happened years ago, you had no idea that this was his plan.

"I thought it was time for people to hear it, even if they don't know it's about you," Eli said, kissing the back of your head.

His tenderness made you want to cry, but you held it in, seeing as you had a whole album to listen to. So you whispered, "Thank you," to him, kissing the top of his hand.

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

You were at another party, but this one was a lot bigger, and you seemed to have misplaced your boyfriend.

Eli had left to refill your drinks, and stayed put at the edge of the dance floor like you'd asked. With your hands clasped together, you watched the people around you as they danced, mingled, sneaked behind hidden alcoves or in large, single-use restrooms. It was definitely entertaining, a good pastime while Eli found his way back to you.

"Now how does someone who looks absolutely stunning get left alone with no one to dance with?"

You froze, recognizing the voice. It was older, deeper, but definitely the same as you remembered it from years and years ago. Your fight or flight kicked in, but you fought the urge to run in the opposite direction.

And he was flirting with you. Would he have done that if he'd known who you were? Did he do it because he knew who you were? You were too curious to just bolt like you wanted to, so you turned around.

"Oh shit."

You didn't know how you wanted Harry to respond, but you didn't think that was a good response. With a shaky voice, you said, "H—Hello, Harry."

"Y/n," he breathed, looking like he was staring at a ghost. In a way, you both were. "How—How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I, um, I'm actually here with—"

"Baby! There you are!" Elijah said, slipping his arm around your waist and kissing your temple.

Despite your worlds colliding in the worst way, you felt at ease with Eli at your side. He squeezed you comfortingly, ever the hero in your little story. "H—Harry, this is Eli. My—My boyfriend."

It was hard to gauge Harry's reaction, as he just stood there and stared blankly at you. Looking over to Eli, you widened your eyes at him, not sure what to do now.

"How's it going man. I'm a big fan of your work," he said, reaching his hand out towards Harry.

Harry looked down at it, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you, Eli. How long have you known, Y/n?"

"Oh gosh, it feels like forever sometimes, doesn't it?" he asked, looking down at you with a smile. "But I would say, oh, I don't know, four years, six months, and about two days."

That made you laugh. You punched his shoulder. "Oh stop. You made that up."

"I didn't, I swear! Don't act bitter because you don't know the exact number of days we've known each other."

You could've gotten lost in playful bickering, but you tried not to for Harry's sake. "How, um, how've you been, Harry?"

"Good," he said, playing with his bottom lip. "I, uh, I normally don't go out to these things, but I'm—I'm glad I did. It—It's good to see you again."

He didn't sound like it was good to see you again, but you didn't blame him. It was a lot. For the both of you.

His hands were fidgety, and he wouldn't stop looking at you, but wouldn't meet your eye. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how, and it seemed that neither did Harry.

"You know what, why don't you two catch up? I think I saw someone I recognized over there," Eli said. Leaning down, he kissed your cheek. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Nodding, you sent your boyfriend on his way. When it was just you and Harry, you still failed to say anything. He just kept staring at you, making you fidgety as well. You looked down at your dress, wondering if there was anything wrong with it. It was a multi-colored, lace dress with a corseted bust and buttons running down the middle of it. You hated that he made you question your choice, but you did.

"You look great, by the way," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean—I only meant—Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," you said. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Yeah, sure, uh, after you."

You searched for a place for you to sit down, settling on a tall table towards the back of the large club. Harry helped you into your seat, then sat down at the seat across from you.

"It—It's funny, I was just thinking about you the other day," you said, trying to find a way to start this conversation.

"I think about you all the time," he said, his eyes widening when he realized he said that out loud. "Sorry, not in—not in the way that you think, I just—I've always wanted to reach out, but I just...didn't know how. I'm sorry if I just made things more awkward than they already were."

"It—It's okay," you said. Your fingers tapped against the surface of the table. "I know what you meant. This is all really weird."

"It is. It's weird seeing you...grown up...I guess."

Smiling a little, you said, "I know the feeling."

Harry was quiet again, looking down at his folded hands on the table. "So...Eli...It seems quite serious."

Now your smile was nice and wide. Just hearing his name made your heart flutter. "It is—We are—I—I'm sorry, I don't want to rub it in your face or anything. How—How are you? Are you? Seeing anyone?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I, uh, haven't been seeing anyone recently. Just kind of been...doing my own thing, I guess."

"Oh. Well, that's good. It's good right?" you asked. You knew this situation was kind of awkward, but Harry was acting stranger than you were right now, which was saying something.

"It's fine, I just—" He didn't finish, his voice shaky all of a sudden. You could see his leg shaking anxiously under the table.

Furrowing your brow, you reached across the table, concerned about him. "Harry, are you o—"

"No, I'm not, I'm—"

Harry slipped his hands off the table before you could touch them. He smoothed them on the material of his pants, a pair of brown ones with a plaid pattern blending into them. He looked comfy and cozy in his pastel blue sweater, but he looked anything but. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said all of a sudden. You retracted your hand back, shocked by his outburst. "Sorry, I—I've wanted to apologize for years, but I didn't know how, and then I was scared, and then it felt like it was too late. And now you're here, and I thought—but you're not—and I feel like such an idiot. An—And now you're looking at me like you pity me, and I hate that, I hate that you've moved on and life seems so perfect when there are moments where I've hated myself for how I treated.

"I should be happy that you've moved on, and I am happy for you, really, I just—I don't know how I feel. I just know that I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath. It was shaky and since you were looking at him so closely, you could see his lips quivering.

Hesitantly, you reached your hand across the table again, palm up. "I...Eli was telling me that I needed closure from all this, but I think you might need it too."

Harry stared at your hand in the middle of the table. He eventually took it. It felt nice, but there were no butterflies, no giddiness. You didn't get that with him anymore.

"I guess I do." He took a deep breath. "I—For years I've felt horrible about the way things happened, the way I treated you, and how I let Isabella treat you."

You nodded. It wasn't your favorite pastime to reminisce about that day, but clearly he needed to get some things off his chest, and you needed to hear them.

"It wasn't great," you agreed.

"No, and I, um, I'm really, really sorry. I know it probably doesn't mean anything now, but I wish I'd done things differently. I was young and stupid and...had a bit of an inflated ego. The way I treated you wasn't right, and I've felt horrible...for years. Still do."

"It does. Mean something, I mean," you said. You debated whether to tell him what the aftermath of the break up was like, since he was already so obviously torn up about it. But you'd been torn up too. You had a right to share your feelings the way he got to. "I, um...It was not easy. After you broke up with me. I was upset, and while I don't blame you for your fans' behavior, but with you moving on so fast there were comparisons and unkind words and...Yeah, it—it wasn't easy. I was depressed for a really long time, so depressed that I—"

His face crumpled when your voice broke. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. Right there in the middle of this party. You felt the urge to as well, but you swallowed the lump in your throat, took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes.

"It was a really dark time, but I've healed and moved on. I'm happy, and I—I don't want you to feel guilty anymore. I want you to be happy too," you said, running your thumb across the back of his hand.

Harry sniffled, but he didn't seem like he was on the verge of a breakdown anymore. "I just wish I could go back and do things differently. I know I said I was young, and I was, but I was old enough to know how to be a decent boyfriend, and I wasn't, and I'm sorry."

It was what you needed years ago. Perhaps Harry's words could've saved you a world of hurt, perhaps not, but he was saying them now, and seeing him so torn up about how badly he'd hurt you, eased something in you, fixed the last fracture in your heart.

"I know you can't go back in time and fix things, and maybe if you had, things might be different, but this is the life we live. So, I forgive you."

"Really? You really mean that?" he asked, looking like he was about to cry for an entirely different reason.

You nodded. "Yes. For a long time, I wanted you to hurt as badly as I did, but now that I've seen you upset, I realize that's not what I want. We've both grown up, we've both moved on."

"Yeah, we—we have, haven't we," he said, looking at your clasped hands. There was a look on his face that you couldn't read, but before you could ask what was wrong, he smiled. It was small, but he did smile. "Can I—Can I give you a hug? Just one last one? For closure's sake?"

"Yeah, of course," you said.

Smiling, you stood up and walked around the table. Harry immediately wrapped you up in his arms. It felt comforting, but friendly. His cologne was nice, and his sweater was soft, but you were in love with a different cologne and sweater wearing individual now. Hugging him was nice, but he didn't give you butterflies like he used to.

After a good twenty seconds, you tried to pull away, but Harry held onto you tighter. It seemed he was squeezing the rest of his guilt out, one final goodbye. So you let him have it. You didn't think you would ever be close friends, but maybe you could be friendly. He finally did pull away, his hands resting on your shoulders with a small smile on his face.

"Can I say it?" you asked. "Just once?"

Harry was perplexed, looking at you quizzically. "What do you—Oh. Yes, I suppose it's only fair."

Your grin was big as you stepped away from a little. "Harry Styles, I. Was. Right."

Both of you chuckled, and it felt good. To laugh again. You weren't sure when you'd see him again, but this was a moment you felt good leaving off on. Harry's heart wasn't fully healed, but he would be, and you wanted that for him.

A hand was at your back, and you immediately turned to find Elijah there. Your smile grew even wider, your eyes closing when he kissed your forehead.

Since Harry was still standing there, you pulled back from your boyfriend. Eli asked if Harry wanted to leave and join the two of you out for drinks, but he declined, waving you off.

"Are you sure?" you asked. You just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Yeah. You go. I'm supposed to meet a friend later."

"Oh. Okay. Well, have a good night, Harry," you said, smiling softly at him.

"Good night, Y/n."

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

Harry watched you walk away on another man's arm, and he tried to ignore the ache in his chest.

He didn't know why he just assumed you would be single whenever he saw you again, but he did.

Guilt was a nasty thing, Harry had come to realize. He'd been terrible to you, and once his head came out of the clouded haze that Isabella kept him in, guilt consumed him. He felt horrible for how he treated you, how he handled things.

And it didn't help that all of his friends were against him on that front at the time. Harry had been too dense about it all back then, but his band members weren't. They even egged his house. No one ever admitted to it, but he knew it was them, it couldn't have been anyone else.

Harry eventually got over it, then he wasn't over it, then he got over it again. It came in waves over the years, the guilt. And when he saw you tonight, actually realized it was you standing there...he was overcome by a hurricane of emotions. He felt like it was fate.

And then he saw you completely light up for someone else, and he knew that if there was such a thing as fate, it was cruel.

He didn't even know why he'd gotten his hopes up. It had been nearly a decade since you last spoke, of course you would have moved on. He had too, but nothing ever seemed to stick. For a split second, he felt like he was being given a second chance, and perhaps if he really wanted to make a fool out of himself, he could try, but he didn't want to do that. Not to you. You looked truly happy, and after everything he'd put you through, after what you insinuated...

You told him you forgave him, that you'd healed, but it would take a lot longer than today for Harry to get over that, to forgive himself for the hand he'd played in your pain.

So he let you walk away, let you be happy. You'd overcome so much, had found happiness despite everything you'd been through. Harry would be okay too.

He left the fancy LA party alone. It wasn't the first time, but it felt different. He felt lighter, yet heavier at the same time. Harry felt like you were right to say he needed closure, and he did need that. The past was behind him, sort of, but he would move on eventually. Just as soon as he put you behind him too.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #traitorry

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harringtown · 2 years

Text

this town’s for the record now

a/n: what’s that? the Hawkins train station I created for fic convenience once again making an appearance? absolutely. and yes this is another prompt from that childhood friends to lovers post cuz it has me by the throat. special shoutout to Noah Kahans new album, if I could have id just list every single lyric in that album as the fic title lmao.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: ‘we’ve been friends since childhood, and I’ve accepted that we’re just not meant to be. I’ve moved on and encouraged you to follow your dreams. I didn’t know that your dream was me.’ from this prompt list (aka the reader moved out of Hawkins, eddie didn’t, and it takes coming home to figure out what they left behind)

wc: 5k

warnings: alcohol/drinking

By midnight, the only people left at the house are a handful of stragglers seeking lost jackets, the poor host and his box of trash bags, and you and Eddie. No one bothered to shut off the boombox inside, and the music filters through the open windows onto the back porch where the two of you sit at the end of the deck. Eddie’s legs are longer, and his sneakers hit the dirt of the yard below, but you swing your ankles, bobbing them against the wooden deck slats.

Eddie lifts the bottle of malt liquor to his lips, taking a burning drag before he hands it off to you. Despite your proclamation that the two of you could never get through an entire 40oz, this is the second bottle of the night.

It’s getting late, and Eddie knows he should offer to walk you home, but he doesn’t want to leave yet. Leaving means going home, and falling asleep, and waking up tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The day you climb into the car—the one Eddie spent all day helping you pack up—and drive off to college. The day you leave him and Hawkins behind.

He’s known this day was coming since you were both fifteen—knew you were destined for more than this shitty town and its shitty people—but knowing doesn’t make it hurt less. Sometimes it does. And sometimes, knowing is slamming a door shut, right into your own damn fingers.

You set the empty bottle of Jager down on the deck with a clank.

“Another one down,” you say.

Eddie waggles a brow. “Told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What can I say? I know my alcohol,” he says.

“Because that’s something to be proud of.”

“I bet I can scrounge us up at least a can of beer or two, if y’want.”

“Unless you want to carry my drunk ass all the way home, don’t you dare.”

“I’ll carry you anywhere, gorgeous,” Eddie says, leaning back onto his elbows. The crumbling deck is certainly going to leave him with splinters, but he likes this view. You, and the trees, and the stars.

“You know how I feel about that nickname,” you say. “It’s not funny.”

“Who’s joking?” Eddie asks. He’s inching past the line he already dances along every day.

You shake your head. Let out a sigh.

Eddie almost pushes. Anywhere else, with anyone else, he would. That’s what he does. He pushes and pushes and pushes until finally, the levee breaks, and he’s alone again.

He can’t decide if he hasn’t pushed you hard enough, or if he’s just not brave enough to try.

The upbeat song on the boom ends, and the notes of the next begin, slow and steady.

Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx. Not Eddie’s normal style, but the last few years have acquainted him with any song about loving things, or people, he can’t have.

He has to swallow a bitter laugh. Of all the songs, on all the nights.

Good one, universe.

Eddie pushes to his feet more unsteadily than he cares to admit, and turns, holding out a hand.

Still sitting on the deck, you lift your chin and cock your brows in question.

“May I have this dance?” he asks.

“Are you serious?”

“As Sisyphus.”

“I think you mean syphilis.”

“Same difference.”

“It absolutely is not.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Wiggles his fingers.

You purse your lips, but a tiny smile overtakes them. You take his hand, letting him pull you up to your feet. He doesn’t release your hand, threading your fingers together, placing his other hand on your waist.

He thinks it should feel more awkward, or uncomfortable—it shouldn’t feel like Eddie has finally found the balance he’s been trying to find his entire life. You fit effortlessly against him.

And you dance. It’s hardly a complicated dance, no waltz or tango. Just two very drunk teenagers, clumsily moving around a rotting deck.

The chorus makes you both a little brave, and Eddie releases your waist, sending you out into a twirl. But you’re both hammered, and you catch your foot on a missing chunk of deck, and all Eddie can do is haul you into his arms to keep you from slamming into the wood.

Your laughter sends out plumes of white air, like the universe itself is trying to cling to the sound the way Eddie is. He has the vague thought that he wishes he had a tape recorder, to catch your laugh, to hold onto after you drive away tomorrow.

You slip your arms around his neck, and he winds his around your waist once more, a little tighter, his half-assed attempt to keep you steady—when it’s always been the other way around. Your head finds his shoulder, and Eddie can feel the thrum of your heartbeat against his own.

“I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, the words escaping before he can stop them.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his vest, and your knuckles graze the back of his neck, and God, what he wouldn’t give to trap this moment like a spider in a glass.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” you say. Your breath is warm against his collarbone.

The song’s last notes trickle out, and the only melodies left are the crickets and your heartbeats.

Eddie lifts his head at the same time you lift yours, and only then does he realize how close you are. Your nose bumps his.

Maybe he’s feeling brave, or cocky, or he’s just too aware of the time running out on the clock, but he tilts his chin up, closes the distance between you. Kisses you, the way he’s wanted to for years.

And you kiss him back. Your lips part against his, and your hands climb up his neck to tangle in his hair, and he has no idea if it’s you or the cold making him shiver, but he doesn’t care.

Someone pulls away to catch their breath—maybe him, or you, or both of you—and then…

The rest of the night turns to black. Already, the kiss is patched in darkness, a drunk brain struggling to hold onto a treasured memory.

Eddie doesn’t remember how the two of you got home. He doesn’t remember much of anything, except for that snippet on the porch.

But the next morning, when he knocks on your door with two coffees, you proclaim that you can’t remember a second of the night before, and Eddie realizes that the kiss, the confession that lived in it, didn’t make it to morning.

And he knows he could remind you. He knows it would change everything, or that it could.

In the end, though, he doesn’t say a word. He lets you go, because it’s the right thing to do—and because he’s a fucking coward, but he likes to pretend it’s only the first thing.

Because your dreams have always been bigger than Hawkins, and bigger than him. Even if his dream has always been you.

You think it should feel different, stepping off the train at the platform in Hawkins after all this time away, but it doesn’t. It actually feels like you never left at all, and the last nine months were nothing but a dream.

The only thing that’s different is you. And this version of you suddenly can’t remember why the hell she agreed to getting picked up by Eddie.

You should be excited to see your best friend of a decade. You are. And you’re also kind of dreading it.

But it’s a late train, and your parents have work in the morning, and you didn’t have an actual, believable reason to say no.

You roll your shoulders and grab your suitcase’s handle, dragging it behind you into the train station’s parking lot.

The black van you expected to find idling at the curb is nowhere to be seen, though. The only car that’s even waiting in the station’s lot at this time of night is an unfamiliar beat up blue pickup truck that’s at least twenty years old.

As you enter the lot, its headlights shut off, and the door creaks open. A familiar silhouette hops onto the concrete, and your stomach flips.

Eddie strolls across the lot, meeting you halfway. He looks almost exactly the same as he did when you left him. Something in the way he holds himself is a little stiller, a little calmer, and there is a seriousness to his expression he never had, but he’s your Eddie.

“There she is,” he calls, a wide grin on his face. He pulls you into a hug that ends too fast, but he doesn’t release you entirely. He’s warm and sturdy, and he still smells the same, and God, you really missed him. “How you been, gorgeous?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, and you lightly push him off, shaking your head.

“Same old, same old.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Nice try. If you think you’re getting away with four words after almost a year, you lost your mind out there.”

He opens the passenger side door for you, and you climb in, waiting for him to go around to the driver's side and get in before you say, “It’s college. Late nights, homework, and a newfound love for coffee. I really thought I’d make it through at least a semester before giving in, but I bought a coffee pot in week two.”

“The coffee thing isn’t love. It’s Stockholm syndrome.” He shakes his head. “But god, what a sexy captor she is.”

“Ah, you’re familiar with her?”

“Familiar? We’re deeply intimate,” he says. “Met at the library on the morning shift and haven’t parted since.”

“The library?” you ask. “Eddie Munson, professional deviant, works at the library?”

“People can change,” he says, but it feels like a double entendre. Though you’re not sure what the other meaning is—not now, not after so much time away. “I don’t know if you remember Robin Buckley. Two years under us when we were in school.”

An odd, sour pit forms in your belly. It’s an old sensation you thought you left behind when you left, but you’re back in Hawkins now, and that feeling is, too.

Or maybe it’s not Hawkins. Maybe it’s him.

“Yeah, I remember. What about her?”

Eddie starts the engine. It seems to protest its very existence, grumbling and rumbling until it finally turns over.

“Well, apparently, she and the big honcho librarian, this lady named Miriam, are tight. She got me the gig.” He drums his fingers against the wheel as he pulls out of the lot and onto the street, and your gaze lingers on the rings; a few are the same, a few are new. “I’m pretty much just restocking shit, or helping old ladies find gardening manuals, but I haven’t managed to fuck it up yet.” He flashes you a grin. “Granted, it’s only been two months, but hey. Baby steps.”

You can’t help smiling back, though your chest pulses with a year-old ache. You don’t have the right to mourn anything that happened after you left this place, but you still do.

“Never pictured you as a library boy,” you say. “Next, you’re going to pull out a pair of reading glasses.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and swipes the hairs out of his eyes. He’s in dire need of a haircut. It’s been years since he’s let it get this long.

“Yeah, well, it pays the bills. And it turns out, when some ancient English teacher isn’t forcing you to read them, some of those books aren’t half bad.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment before saying, “I heard you finally walked across that stage. Let me guess, you framed and hung your diploma in the living room?”

He laughs again, but it isn’t a happy laugh. It’s laced with something sharp.

“For a while, I didn’t have a living room to hang it in.” He licks his lips. “The earthquake took out our trailer. Wayne and I are in Cheery Oaks, now, which is a hell of a lot less cheery than the name suggests. Pretty sure the diploma never even made it into a box.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I heard about the earthquake. I wanted to come visit, help out, but…” But. But finals, but you had created a beautiful, perfect bubble of a life, but you were afraid that coming back here would pop it.

“I don’t blame you for staying away. There’s something about this town that just makes you want to run the fuck away from it.”

You’re not sure what to say to that. Because he’s right, and you did run, and most importantly, you left him behind when you did it.

“I’m proud of you.” He darts a glance your way, confused. “You know. For graduating. For the job.” For everything. For continuing to survive in a place you swore you’d always face together.

“For getting my shit together?”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you say.

“It’s all good. I get it.” He shrugs. “Not like it’s a lie.”

You open your mouth to speak, and promptly shut it. Before you can decide what to say, Eddie reroutes, flashing an easy grin.

“You hungry? I know you’ve been missing the shakes from the diner.” He reaches out to flick your shoulder, and you can’t help but smile.

He’s right. When it comes to which you missed more, Eddie or the milkshakes, Eddie only barely tops it.

“You don’t mind?”

“You kidding?” Eddie shakes his head. “If you asked me to drive you to New York and back, I would. I can manage a milkshake detour.”

Again, with one of those big statements that mean more than one thing. And a year ago, you might have easily caught onto the truth under his words.

“As long as you’re buying, obviously,” Eddie says.

You force a smile, hoping he can’t tell how much ache sits behind it.

The short drive to the diner proves one thing. That Hawkins hasn't changed. It’s more rundown, packed with construction and rebuilding, but it’s still your Hawkins.

It’s you and Eddie that changed. And unlike the rest of your lives, you didn’t change together.

That fact hurts more than the rest.

You pull away to catch your breath and curse your own humanity and its incessant demands. What you wouldn’t give to just stand here and kiss him until the world caves in.

Eddie tips his forehead against yours. You sway, and his hands hold your waist steady. His fingers nudge up the hem of your shirt and graze the skin above your hips, making you shiver.

“It’s never a joke,” Eddie hums, so close you swear you can taste the words on your lips.

“Hmm?”

“It’s never a joke,” he repeats. “You are gorgeous. So gorgeous it hurts.”

“You’re drunk,” you whisper.

“Your point?”

“People say shit they don’t mean when they’re drunk.”

“And they also say shit they do mean,” he says. Bumps his nose with yours. “And fuck, I mean it.”

He has to stop saying that. He can never stop.

God, you really shouldn’t have agreed to that second bottle.

Your memory goes hazy after that. You don’t know how you or Eddie got home, just that you did.

And the next morning, when Eddie shows up at your door with coffee to usher you off, grinning and cracking a joke like nothing happened, you realize that he doesn’t remember. The moment you’d been waiting for for years, and he had no idea it happened.

It’s kind of a relief, in a way. Makes leaving a little easier.

It still breaks your heart to go, though, and take the secret of that night with you.

As you push out of the diner into the warm summer night, two milkshakes in hand, you find Eddie with the truck bed ledge down, sitting on the edge, swinging his legs back and forth.

At your approach, he hops down. It could be the dark and it’s mirages, but you’d swear Eddie clutches at one side of his torso. But by the time you reach the truck bed, he’s back to himself, smiling and holding out his hands for the milkshakes. He waggles his fingers like a hungry toddler. You oblige him, handing over the milkshake and hopping up to sit on the ledge.

Eddie sets his shake aside and peels his black hoodie off, and the tee underneath gets caught halfway up his stomach. The sight of a half shirtless Eddie Munson alone has always been enough to catch your attention, but it isn’t what holds it now.

It’s the scars. So many of them you couldn’t even begin to count. Small, like bite marks, but not from any animal you’ve ever seen, littering his skin. And if it was an animal, it wasn’t just one, it was a horde.

They still have that angry, bright pink sheen that means they’re freshly healed.

A wave of regret slams into your chest. What the hell happened this last year? What happened to him? While you were staying up late with friends and cramming for classes, Eddie Munson was injured badly enough to leave this much of a mark. And he didn’t tell you about it.

“What the fuck?” You ask. You set the milkshake aside, forgotten, and hop onto the asphalt.

Eddie freezes. Looks down. Red climbs up his neck and over his cheeks as he yanks the tee shirt back down. But without the hoodie, the elbow-length sleeves showcase the same scars on his arms.

“What’s up?” Eddie plays casual.

You shake your head. Stomp toward him. Wrench up his tee shirt.

“Jesus, dude. At least take me out for dinner first—“ He begins.

He tries to yank the fabric now, but he’s too late. You saw it. All of it. Scar more than skin.

You bring a hand to your mouth, inhaling sharply.

“Eddie. What the hell is this?” You ask. An icy feeling trails down your spine.

“It’s nothing,” Eddie snaps, stepping back and out of your reach, like he’s expecting a full body pat down. And you’re about five seconds from giving him one.

“Nothing? That is not nothing. What the hell happened to you?”

“I said it was nothing. Just—forget about it, okay?”

“I can’t forget about it.” You take a step toward him. “Eddie, those scars—I had no idea. Did something happen?” It’s a stupid question, because obviously.

“Yeah, nine months happened.”

You sigh. “Don’t evade.“

“I’m not evading,” he says. He’s throwing everything he has into a facade you still have some ability to see through. And his bullshit meter is off the charts. “Got pinned under some debris during the quake. Don't worry about it.”

You fold your arms and lift your chin. “No way. Those aren’t ‘pinned under something heavy’ scars. Those are ‘something tried to eat you alive’ scars.”

Eddie shrugs noncommittally.

“Something happened,” you say. “Why won’t you just tell me what it is?”

“Because it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, really? Because I seem to recall at least twenty separate occasions as kids you called me simply because you were bored. Nothing was not a big deal.”

“Yeah, and people change. Life goes on.”

You stiffen. “What the hell is your problem? I’m just asking a question. Since when are you this cagey and—“

“You don’t get to do that,” Eddie says, shaking his head and jabbing a finger at you. “You don’t get to be pissed at me for not giving you a day-by-day update of my life after you walked out of it. You’re the one who left this town.” He shakes his head. “No, ran away. With your tail tucked between your damn legs.”

“You told me to go!” You exclaim. “I was going to stay behind another year, and take a few classes at the community college, and wait for you to graduate.”

It was a promise made by firelight and cheap beer at fifteen: the two of you would escape together.

“What, and I was supposed to just let you do that? Throw your life away to wait around for me to maybe get my shit together, so we could what? What did you even think would happen?”

And there it is. The one piece of your childhood plans neither of you spoke about.

What came after. What the two of you would be.

“I never would have left if you hadn’t pushed me.”

“No shit, I pushed you,” he says. “What, am I not supposed to? Did you honestly want me to tell you to flush all your dreams down the toilet and wait around for me?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is the point,” Eddie snaps. “From the second I met you, you were talking about getting out of this town, making a life for yourself. You know sure as shit that wasn’t going to happen here. So, yeah, I pushed. Screw me for trying to help you achieve your dreams, yeah?”

“My dreams?”

“Yeah. How many times did you tell me? Good job, apartment, dishwasher, dog.” He uses his pointer finger to tap four of his fingers on the other hand.

It occurs to you suddenly that the two of you are having it out in a parking lot, but fortunately, it’s late enough that the whole town isn’t here to witness the argument. Another few minutes, though, and you’ll certainly have an audience.

You huff a breath. You only now realize how close the two of you are, and you step back.

“Don’t act like this was some… some big selfless thing.” Your voice is colder than you intend, but you’ve cracked open a cavern of anger towards him. Because you did leave. But he also didn’t ask you to stay. “Don’t pretend that your encouragement was anything but your last-ditch attempt to push me away. It was a test. And I failed.”

And for the first time in your life, you render Eddie Munson speechless.

“What?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. As if you haven’t hit the sharpest, tallest nail right on the head.

You shake your head, snatching your half-melted milkshake off the truck bed.

“Forget it. Can we just go?”

You don’t look to see if he’s moved as you loop the side of the car and climb into the passenger seat. After a long ten seconds, the truck bed’s ledge cracks into place, making the car shake. Eddie pops open the driver side door and hops in. He doesn’t say anything as he starts the grumbling engine, or as he pulls out of the lot. It’s just you, him, and two melting milkshakes that sit untouched between you.

Eddie keeps sneaking glances, like he’s considering saying something, but he doesn’t.

And eventually, he just starts flipping through the radio, bouncing and bouncing the way he’s always done when he’s nervous—he’s the same with the television, and had remote privileges permanently revoked. Then, he stops flipping. Turns up the volume.

It takes a moment to recognize the song.

Wherever you go

Whatever you do

I will be right here waiting for you

And suddenly, it’s a year ago, and you’re on a rickety porch, and you’re drunk enough that standing is a little hard, but Eddie is there to hold you up. He’s always there to hold you up. And you have no idea how you’re going to stay steady when he lets go.

Eddie—this Eddie, the one with scars and secrets—starts to hum along. You’re almost surprised he knows the song.

Unless, he does recognize it. Unless, he remembers that night.

Your head snaps his way, and you find him already looking at you. He says nothing. He’s never been able to keep his mouth shut, except when it really matters. When you really, really want to hear him speak.

Eddie pulls onto your street, putting the car in park to idle at your curb. He clears his throat. And still, doesn’t say a fucking thing.

You’d forgotten this about him. There was always a wall to slam into.

You undo your seatbelt. Sit, for a moment, leaving him one last chance. But he doesn’t take it, so you climb out of the car, retrieving your luggage from the bed and setting it on the sidewalk. Just as you turn to head up the driveway, you stop. Turn. Approach the passenger side and meet his eyes through the rolled-down window.

Screw it. Maybe he doesn’t have the courage to speak up. But you’ve kept quiet for too long to leave it like this.

“You know, you were right. My dream is a job I actually like and an apartment with a dishwasher and maybe a dog,” you say. “But you were wrong, too. Because you’re missing one of the biggest pieces. You were in that apartment. You had that dog on your lap, asking me how my day at work was.” You shake your head. “You were my dream, Eddie. And I kept waiting for you to figure it out, and that night, at Georgie’s party, I thought for a second that maybe, I was your dream too. I guess I was wrong.” You step back and grab your suitcase handle. “I may have left, Eddie, but you never once tried to stop me.”

And then you turn, marching across the sidewalk and toward the driveway.

A metal door whines open, and a heavy pair of boots smack the pavement.

“Wait,” Eddie calls. You pause. “Just—shit, please wait.”

You turn, folding your arms over your chest.

“What?” You ask.

“You weren’t wrong,” he says. He draws a hand down his face, like he’s trying to peel something away. “I was… testing you. And I didn’t even realize I was doing it, which is stupid, because I should have. Because that’s what I do. I push, and people leave, and I blame it on them. And I tried so damn hard to push you away, but you stuck around, and I think it—it scared the shit out of me.”

You’re not sure what to say, because you know all this, have known it for years.

“I spent so long thinking I was pissed at you for leaving, and maybe I was, but I was more pissed at myself for letting you go without telling you the truth.”

“The truth?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighs. Shakes his head. “The truth. And the truth is that you were my dream, too. No, screw that. You are my dream. You have been since we were kids.”

Your heart hits the concrete at your feet, and you ask, gently, “What are you saying?”

Eddie takes a few steps toward you. He lifts his hands to your cheeks, giving his head a little shake.

“I’m saying I fucking love you,” he says. “And I never should have let you go.”

There are a thousand things you could say. I told you so, for starters. But there will be time to say all of those things.

“No,” you say. “You shouldn’t have.”

His brows twitch, and a smile ghosts his lips.

“Think you can forgive me?”

“I think it’s a possibility,” you say. “With some convincing, of course.”

Eddie grins as he bends toward you and tips his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut.

Eddie tips his chin up, presses the gentlest of kisses to your lips.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, and you can’t decide whether to laugh or cry or kiss him again.

You settle for all three. You don’t even try to push down the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes, and you’re mid-laugh when you catch his mouth in yours.

His fingers trail down the sides of your neck, down your arms, and he loops his arms around your waist, drawing you flush against him. His tongue flicks against your teeth, and he tastes like vanilla, and he smells like herbs and aftershave, and if that first kiss on that porch was a spark, this one is a wildfire.

It’s all been leading up to this, you realize. Maybe you needed to leave. Maybe Eddie needed to let you. Maybe you both needed to see what the world looked like without the other to realize what a shitty image that was.

Or maybe there is no destiny or fate, and it’s just a matter of timing. Luck. Maybe none of that matters now.

Because for a second, you can see the younger versions of you and Eddie, tipsy and curled together on the grassy lawn outside Eddie’s trailer. You want to tell them, as they collaborate and make plans and dream of a perfect life, that none of it is going to work out how they think. That the plans and dreams crumble or change or disappear altogether.

You want to tell them that it won’t be what they expect, but it’ll still be good. And it’ll take you two longer to get where you need to be, but you will get there. And you’ll do it together.

Moving out of Hawkins wasn’t the end like you thought it was. Or maybe it was. It was an end, but not the end.

This isn’t the end, either. This, the two of you, kissing under a flickering streetlamp, is a beginning.

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#brooke writes fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #x reader

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