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effortandmore · 1 year

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tuesday moon | knj (18+)

summary: being “just friends” with kim namjoon sucks

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: fluff, smut

au: university, co-workers to lovers to friends to lovers again (they're oblivious)

warnings: it's mostly fluff i think. they're oblivious. smut: minors should not be interacting/reading, namjoon has a big dick, a lil praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, the usual suspects i think. drinking (but not before they sleep together), tae is into new age jazz... and they were roommates!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so... i had this dream a couple months ago and couldn't get it out of my head, so here you go. thanks, sleep brain. the title is from a neutral milk hotel song (but tbh the '23 album isn't great). thank you to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. and then for doing it again when i couldn't even find the mistake you told me was there 🙃

read on ao3

You’ve learned a lot in university—which given how much money you’ve spent to be there is a relief. But amongst business classes and writing workshops and statistics, the most important knowledge you’ve gained is that of small things.

Of small things and how they can change your life in unbelievably big ways.

Kim Namjoon isn’t exactly small. But the events that put him right in the middle of your life are. The first day you meet him is a Tuesday. Tuesdays have always been for non-events: for meetings and your least favorite classes… For snagging a coveted dryer on the third floor of the dorm building because Jeongguk saves it for you when he’s finished with his seemingly endless laundry. Tuesdays are for your first real uni friend, Taehyung, to show up to the laundry room unannounced and make you listen to weird new-age jazz on his phone that you hate, but love how much he loves it.

And then your work-study starts. A job in the library is supposed to be easy, has better hours than a lot of the jobs that are available, and pretty much only requires you to understand the Dewey decimal system so you can reshelve things quickly. You can count and read, and those seem to be the only things the head librarian cares about. Cake.

Your first training day is a Tuesday. It’s a rainy afternoon, and in one of the conference rooms in the back of the law floor are you and three other new employees. Right away, it seems like Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon are already friends. They joke and whisper throughout the orientation videos and absolutely make you feel like a fourth wheel. At your first break, Hoseok extends the invitation for you to sit with them when he notices you still sitting by yourself in the back of the room, and it's then that you learn they for sure already knew each other—music majors and all in the same class even though Yoongi is a little older than the other two. They signed up for all the same work-study assignments hoping they’d be placed together, hoping they could have a chance to work on music during slow times at the slowest work-study assignments. Namjoon, though, who has been quiet the whole time, finally speaks up at this.

“Well, I also like books,” he says softly, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. “So, I guess I had an ulterior motive.”

“Of course you did, Namjoonie,” Hoseok replies.

Yoongi turns to you, explaining, “Namjoon’s a double major. Smartest guy we know. Literature and music.”

You talk more with them after the ice is broken—Yoongi’s a double major, too, math and music. Hoseok raps and does street dancing in his free time, and around the three of them, you feel like you’re woefully underachieving just at life in general.

“What about you?” Namjoon prompts after you get some background on all of them.

“Ah… nothing impressive. Economics major. Just what my parents wanted, you know. But I like books, too. I volunteer at the public library already, but it doesn’t exactly help with tuition.”

“You volunteer?” Namjoon repeats, looking surprised.

“Oh, yeah… It’s no big deal. I just read books to kids sometimes.”

“That’s awesome,” he says, and the look on his face tells you he might actually mean it. Next to him, Yoongi snickers and Hoseok smiles brightly at you.

“Namjoonie here has wanted to volunteer doing park clean up for a while, but Yoongi and I are always dragging him to the studio on the weekends, so he doesn’t have time.”

Namjoon shrugs. “It would be nice to feel like I’m helping, I think.”

“It is,” you agree, sharing a look with him across the table. “The purpose of life is to be useful…” You mumble the quote under your breath, assuming they wouldn’t know what you meant anyway.

“Emerson?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I mean�� That’s what people think, but probably not. It’s most likely from a speech someone else gave when they gave Emerson an award, but most people think it’s him—” you cut yourself off when you notice Namjoon’s eyes gone wide.

“Self Reliance is one of my favorites,” he says, leaning forward, excitement playing in his voice.

“Same! No one ever knows what I’m talking about, but ‘Nothing at last is sacred but the integrity of one’s own mind’ is maybe my whole life philosophy,” you ramble, just happy that someone might finally know what you’re talking about. No one in your economics classes ever shows any interest in philosophy, anyway. Your roommate calls you a nerd every time you bring stuff like this up, and Jeongguk just stares at you with big eyes like he wants to drink every word you're saying but doesn’t understand a drop of it. But Namjoon actually looks… interested in what you’re saying. More than interested, even.

Yoongi elbows Hoseok and smirks. “Namjoon’s in trouble,” he says.

But before you can ask what that means, the head librarian interrupts to tell you it’s time to get back to training. You have to partner up for training to use the library’s reservation and shelving programs, and Namjoon comes right up to you, grinning shyly, and asks if you want to be his partner while his friends whisper on the other side of the room. You know immediately how this is going to go. Or you think you do, anyway.

And you’re right. By the end of the first week of your work study, you’re in Kim Namjoon’s bed.

It’s just like it sounds.

You’re naked, legs bent at the knees and open with his head between them. You noticed his brain first, but it only took that first afternoon to realize that not only was he smart, but stupid hot and kind and sort of funny in the sarcastic way you like, and he seemed to like something about you, too.

On Saturday, you work a slow shift together, both of you using most of the time to catch up on homework, and when it’s over, he asks if you want to come back to his place and keep studying. You agree quickly, but as soon as you get there, you realize you’re both on the same page about being more interested in studying each other than your class work. One thing leads to another, and here you are, moaning into your own palm as he flicks his tongue over your clit in a steady rhythm.

“Namjoon, I–” You’re pathetic, you think, gasping and barely able to make words come out of your mouth, but fuck if he’s not good at this. Better than you’d thought he would be, actually. He came across as a little on the shy side during work, like he might be one of those guys who needs you to tell him where the clit is. Eager to please, but not quite sure how to go about it. Willing to take direction.

He is not that.

“Gonna come, baby? You like my tongue that much?” Namjoon lifts his head to ask, and his lips are slick with you and his voice is deep and his fingers just don’t stop moving… It's so much.

“Yeah, so close…”

At that, Namjoon smirks and ducks his head back down to finish the job. He makes quick work of you, sucking on your clit and twisting one of your nipples with his free hand. The other has two fingers fucking into you in just the right way, just shallow enough to hit your g-spot each time he pushes in.

The orgasm builds fast, pressure from the inside, pressure from the outside… Everything feels so, so good, and you try to tell him so, but all you can do is whimper through it, clenching your thighs around his ears when you come on his tongue and he tries (bless him) to keep licking your core as your knees shake.

“Fuck,” you say on an exhale, arm tossed over your own forehead.

“I’m down,” he teases.

You’re about to say something sarcastic back, but when you lift your arm and look down at him, you lose that train of thought. He looks fucking incredible: flushed, a little sweaty, chin shiny with your orgasm and he’s grinning with those stupid dimples out… How could you not give him everything he wants? Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, the sweet rush of dopamine affecting you when you say, “I want that. Fuck me…” And for emphasis, when he stares at you a little stunned, you add, “Please, Namjoon?”

He only nods, enthusiastically and a little dopey with it, a little like the boy you saw in the library. But when his cock is out—big… like, really big. Why even have a cock that large, really? What’s even the point of that?—he’s smirking and appropriately (you hope) confident again.

“That is…” you look down and make a vague gesture in the direction of his dick, which makes him look down, too.

He shies almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s okay if it’s too much or whatever…”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just… You look good.” You scoot up so you can have level eye contact. “Want you to fuck me. I can handle it, promise. I want to.”

Namjoon swallows, visibly nervous, but agrees anyway.

You knew it would be fine. Any partner who makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful, who makes sure you come first, who pays attention to your body the way he has for the last couple hours is probably going to keep doing that, you decide. And he does. He’s careful, even though you think it might actually be killing him a little to not move once he’s over halfway inside you. He checks in with you, makes sure the consent is still there, and then when you ask him to “actually fuck me, Namjoon… want your cock… all of you,” he does. And he delivers.

You’re essentially sitting in his lap, his palms spread on your hips as he moves you on his cock and it is… Well, it’s unequivocally the best anyone’s ever fucked you. His lips are on your neck, your breasts, the swell underneath them where they meet your ribcage… He keeps talking to you in his raspy whisper, making sure you feel okay, telling you how good you feel to him. There are times when he gets a little porny, telling you how tight you are (you’re sure a cock that big hasn’t seen anything not tight), and then he says, half out of breath, “Knew you would be a good girl. Knew it from the first time I saw you.” And you didn’t even know you wanted to be a ‘good girl,’ but suddenly you very much do.

Before he comes, he makes sure you do again, too. His thumb finds your clit and his lips are hot against your ear, whispering filth when you tighten around his cock and shudder in his lap. He’s not far behind you, pulling your hips down when he thrusts into you a little harder, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort. He’s quiet when he comes, just a low moan of your name as he stills under you.

After, it’s the small things he does that you like. It’s nice that he doesn’t try and move right away, just runs his hands up and down your back—soothing, almost. The closeness is nice, his head resting against your collarbone while you stroke your fingers through his hair. It feels intimate, more than a first time or a one night stand with your coworker should. But neither of you make a move to change that, so maybe it’s alright.

For now.

You haven’t exactly been the most social university student, but you know how these things are supposed to go. You clean up, you get dressed, you make awkward small talk about your classes or your work study and then you go your separate ways. You go back to your apartment and you don’t talk about what happened. He might look at you like he knows what’s underneath your hoodie next time you see him, but you know it won’t happen again. That’s not how it works. Not for you, anyway.

Kim Namjoon is a good guy, that you’re sure of. He’s a hard worker, he’s smart, he has lots of friends and hobbies and between that and school and work, you know there’s no way he’s looking for a relationship, and you also know he’s going to do his best to let you down easy if he thinks that’s what you’re after.

But, he’s your friend. And your co-worker, and the sex was great, so you want to at least spare him the effort of all that. So, when he gets up to dispose of the condom and find a washcloth, you get dressed quietly, pack your textbooks, and do your best to look mostly put together by the time he comes back.

“So,” you start as he returns to his room, “that was great… Really great, Namjoonie. Thank you.”

He looks… confused. “You’re thanking me for sex?”

“I uh… yes?”

Namjoon gives you a dimpled smile with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused. “Okay… Well, you’re welcome, then. And thank you.” He gives you a teasing bow, and with it, you feel a little relief. Because he’s obviously ready to move forward and this can just be a fun thing that happened and you don’t have to make him worry about letting you down, and you don’t have to worry about how much you fucking like him already. You can just be friends.

The problem, you realize quickly, is that being “just friends” with Kim Namjoon sucks.

It’s like sending your poor, delusional heart through a cheese grater with each of your work-study shifts. It’s swallowing down every dream of happiness when you have to sit next to him at a party and watch him nod along in agreement as Hoseok tells him how hot the new guy in his dance class is. (The guy is hot, with at least a 6-pack, big, pouty lips, and biceps like cannons. So, even you have to agree they have a point.)

Okay, that’s probably dramatic. Incredibly dramatic according to Taehyung and Jeongguk. Which, honestly, says a lot coming from them.

So, you do your best to forget your crush and just be cool about everything. You both make a frankly commendable effort to never talk about what happened between you, and after a few weeks, things don’t feel quite so weird. Namjoon’s probably relieved you never mentioned it again, didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend or anything.

You think you’ve done well.

At one party, halfway through the semester, you meet Namjoon’s friend, Seokjin. He’s quiet at first, polite with a big smile and a nervous laugh. He sticks close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and it doesn’t take long before he’s being shuttled across the large backyard in your direction.

“Hi,” he says simply. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh! That’s good… I think?”

“Yah, Namjoonie here—”

“Well, that was great!” Namjoon interjects. “Glad you two finally met. We’re late for something, though. So, bye!” And then he’s pulling Seokjin behind him through the yard in the opposite direction. It’s so weird.

In his protests, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “You’re ridiculous,” to Namjoon. If you were more sober, you would have recognized it as the first small thing that should have tipped you off.

The second thing happens right before summer break. Your whole group, consisting of your and Namjoon’s friends, are sitting around at lunch discussing everyone’s plans for the summer. Hoseok and Jimin (the hot dancer he wouldn’t shut up about who is now his new boyfriend) are going to a dance clinic on the other side of the country. Jeongguk is going home, promising you he’ll leave you a list of acceptable laundromats in his absence. Seokjin and Taehyung are working—teaching acting classes to teenagers at summer camp.

Yoongi’s got an internship, so he’ll be around, but barely since it’s in the city and your university is a little outside of town. It’s a long subway trip, so he’s got a sublet up there he’s moving into for the summer months.

And then it’s Namjoon’s turn.

“I’m staying. Not on campus, obviously. But I found an apartment and I’m looking for a roommate.” Everyone nods along except Jeongguk, whose eyes dart from Namjoon to you and back several times.

“What about noona?” he finally says, hooking a thumb in your direction. “She’s staying, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a bad idea…”

Namjoon and you look at one another. He’s flushed, and he’s doing that thing he does when he’s nervous where he rubs his throat.

“I’m sure Namjoon has plenty of people in mind already,” you say, trying to give him the out he clearly wants.

“Not exactly,” he mumbles.

“This is perfect!” Seokjin exclaims. “Don’t you think this is perfect, Namjoon?”

You lean over to whisper to Namjoon, “You don’t have to, it’s really alright.” It feels like you’re making him nervous, you can feel his muscles stiffen where you’re touching his arm, and the flush he was sporting is spreading to his neck now.

“Would you even want to?” He asks softly.

You’re not sure, actually. It’s already hard work trying to put your stupid crush out of your mind most days. And now, you only see him a few days a week. Your brain (a logical friend) is telling you that living with him will be terrible for your heart. Your heart isn’t as smart and is pounding faster just thinking about spending more time around your crush. Friend, you correct yourself.

The problem is that only Tae and Jeongguk know about your feelings, and none of them know you and Namjoon have already slept together. So, if you say no, it might be weird. As far as they know, you’re just friends, good friends. Why wouldn’t you want to live with him?

“Yeah,” you reply brightly, swallowing down your nerves, “it’ll be great, Joonie. I can cook and you can help me study for my summer classes.” You’re nodding along as you speak, trying to convince yourself that what you’re saying is true.

“Okay… sure. Roommates,” he says, looking a little stunned.

“Roommates!”

You stick your hand out to shake his. You’re the least sexy person to have ever existed, you decide, as he laughs and shakes your hand.

“It was a terrible idea,” you whine into Taehyung’s lap. “He’s just here… all the time. And sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t wear a shirt!” You slump further into your friend, making what you know are pitiful whining noises into his thighs.

It’s not like you’d go as far as saying moving in with Namjoon for the summer was a mistake. But it wasn’t great. Actually, it was really fucking great, and that was the problem. Or part of the problem anyway.

The apartment is nice—nicer than you’d envisioned when he told you about it. Not too big, but on the corner of the building so you got nice light throughout the day. You each have your own bedroom (thank god) and they aren’t large, but Namjoon gave you the one with the room for a chair by the window, even though you knew he’d been planning to write lyrics there. As promised, you cook for both of you in your small kitchen and Namjoon helps you with your summer classes.

With all of your friends gone or busy, you two don’t see much of them, and it feels like you build your own little world: late nights listening to the records he brings home, eating simple meals by the window and complaining that you don’t have a balcony, getting dragged out on bike rides when the sun falls and it’s cool enough outside, hunched together on the floor of the living room scrolling webtoons and drinking one too many cheap beers, and the worst (best) of all—falling asleep on the couch together before you wake up with a jolt realizing your head is on him and it’s far, far too much to realize his chest is in your face… so you scramble to your room like a coward and don’t fall back asleep, too keyed up.

Seokjin, when you do see him, adds in more and more “old married couple” jokes as the summer goes on. He makes fun of your chore lists on the fridge, cutely decorated with whatever doodle has been occupying Namjoon’s mind that week.

(Jin doesn’t even know that when all the chores are done, you save the little post-it notes, snatching them off the fridge when Namjoon’s not around or not paying attention, and putting them carefully into a little box in your desk drawer with all the other scraps and mementos of your friendship you’ve kept over the almost-year you’ve known him.)

Jin teases you when he lets himself in, late in the mornings, and finds the two of you still asleep, tumbled atop each other on the floor, record-listening session gone too late, the needle still digging into invisible grooves at the center.

It’s not his fault it doesn’t feel like a joke to you, he doesn’t know that you feel like the 45 and all of the jokes and all of Namjoon’s smiles and all of the little notes he leaves and the way he blushes when you come out of the bathroom in your robe like maybe maybe there’s just a chance you’re not the only one still thinking about that one time… that those are the needles, and you’re here, spinning in place while they poke and prod and dig for a melody that just isn’t there.

Namjoon, to his credit, is the very definition of a good friend and roommate. He does all the little things. He brings you breakfast sometimes when he’s been out all night and knows you’ll be waking up shortly after he comes home. He cleans, so that even though he’s got so much stuff (endless records and books and figurines and things he just thought were cute), your apartment never feels dirty, just lived-in and homey and a little cluttered. Buys toothpaste when you forget—before you forget, even. Puts your favorite flavor of soju in the fridge every week even though he hates it.

And it’s not just what he does at home (your home. with him. which you try not to think about because the way the thought makes your heart swell and almost burst is dangerous and confusing, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it entirely.) he takes you out, too. It helps that he’s more social than you: gets you outside in the real world between classes and studying. Makes sure you touch grass. Does stupid dances with you to bad music at worse clubs. Buys you hotteok at 2am because he knows you want it even though you won’t admit it so he says both pieces are for him and lets you argue that it’s bad for his heart and you’re willing to take one off his hands just for the sake of his health… because you care for him.

You don’t let yourself think about the way it seems like he flushes and his eyes twinkle a little when you say that. It’s got to be in your imagination.

He doesn’t know that each time he goes out of his way to do something nice for you hurts a little. Doesn’t know that each time he’s a touch too sweet, you wish you’d stayed that one time. Can’t possibly relate to the way you wish that one night turned into a date turned into something more, maybe.

And you know he can’t relate, because he’s started doing this thing while you’ve been living together: talking about someone. Someone that he likes.

It’s devastating and you try so hard not to cry on the nights when it comes up. You succeed in never crying in front of him, but if you drip snot onto your pillow trying to hold back your sobs once you’re alone in your room, he doesn’t have to know.

You don’t know who she is, but you’ve overheard Namjoon on the phone with Yoongi talking about her. She sounds great, if Namjoon’s probably clouded judgment is any indication. He thinks she’s smart and talented, says she sells herself short and he thinks she’s as close to perfect as anyone on the planet. He doesn’t go out without you too often, and you don’t ask where he’s been if he doesn’t offer, but he must be spending time with her because you catch him on a video call with Hoseok saying she can cook and she’s brilliant and she’s everything he’s ever wanted.

She also sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s got, because Namjoon’s convinced she doesn’t like him back and that she’s out of his league—you finally ascertain that the reason he’s been going to the gym more was because one time she said she thought another guy had nice biceps and he knows they were bigger than his.

One time, you come home late, catching Tae at a bar near campus after he’s done with classes and drinking a little too much. You’re not drunk, but you’re in that warm space past sober where everything is a little softer and funnier and Namjoon looks dangerously pretty sitting at his desk with headphones on working on a song.

You plop on his bed, as you do now, and wait for him to notice you’re there. It doesn’t take long.

“Hey,” he says as he pulls off the headphones. He’s giving you the double-dimple smile, which is especially effective when you’re tipsy like this. Throws you more off-kilter than another cocktail would have. “Have fun with Tae?”

“Hmm… yeah.” You lay back on his bed and don’t let yourself worry about your shirt riding up or your hair spilling around you in a haystack. It’s just Namjoon, and you know he doesn’t think about you like that, know he’s already seen you with more skin showing, hair messier.

“Need me to get you some water?”

“No,” you sit up on your elbows, “s’okay. Didn’t drink too much. What’re you working on?”

Namjoon is staring right at you, something indiscernible on his face. He looks almost like he’s in pain or something. “You alright?”

He shakes his head and looks embarrassed. You have no idea why. “Yeah, fine… I’m fine. Just a song, nothing too special.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It’s personal… Kind of silly. It’s not done yet… I’m not sure you’d like it,” he says.

“I like everything you make.” It comes out too honest, you’re not sober enough to hide the tenderness in your voice, to wrap it in something less vulnerable.

There’s no response to that, and you worry you’ve given too much away for a split second before he unplugs his headphones and hits play on the song. And if you thought the sight of him working, bathed in moonlight and neon, was beautiful, this song is truly something else.

It’s lovely—sweeping melody and building building with layers until it crashes all around you, his voice low and quick, persistent with words of love. It’s a love song disguised as wordplay, or maybe the other way around. It’s him in music: smart and beautiful and selfless and breathtaking… You want to keep it, you want it to be yours, you want the words to be about you or for you or just written with you in the back of his mind. It’s too much, it’s so so beautiful, and you know it’s about her. It’s for her. She’s the one who has his attention and who gets his words and it makes you want to crawl under your blankets and never come out like a petulant child.

You’re laying down again, so you don’t know what he’s looking at as you listen. When it ends, you’re asking the question even though you don’t want the answer, even though him saying it will make it too real. “Is it about her?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quietly. “It’s about her.”

You sit up quick, make sure you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the tears that are beginning to drip down your cheeks.

“It’s pretty,” you say as you head toward the door, hopefully not giving yourself away, not looking back in his direction. “Really pretty. She’s lucky, Namjoonie.”

You don’t see the confusion on his face as your bedroom door closes behind you. You don’t hear him tell you goodnight in a small, concerned voice.

After song-gate, you do your best to put a brave face on and move forward. It’s more for him than you, you have to tell yourself. Because you, your heart, you don’t want to let him go, can’t stand the idea of watching him be happy with someone else. But you, Kim Namjoon’s best friend, you want nothing more than for him to be happy, even if it’s not with you. And it’s hard, but for the most part, you let that version of you win.

You give him broad smiles and you keep not asking where he’s going when he leaves without you. You try really hard not to overhear his calls with Hoseok and Yoongi and when you do, you give him a ridiculous double-thumbs up and tell him to go for it, that she’d be a fool to turn him down. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one who ends up looking foolish in that moment though, even if you really, truly mean it.

One day (of course it’s a Tuesday), you come home from class, and you’re sorting through the mail when you spot a card on the counter that wasn’t there in the morning. Namjoon must’ve left it when he came home, you can hear the shower running from down the hall. It’s rare he beats you home on Tuesdays, always saying he’s got “something” to do “across town” and you just assume it’s with her, so you don’t ask.

But what’s more interesting than him being home early is what the card is: a temporary driver license issued to one Kim Namjoon. It’s got a picture of him, dimples out and glasses on, dated that day. You hadn’t even known he’d taken the class or the tests. You wonder why he wouldn’t tell you… It’s a big deal to him—he’d always said he didn’t need it, liked taking the bus and the metro. Thought cars were bad for the planet and that there were too many of them in the city anyway. But here’s the card, proof that for some reason he thought it was time for a change.

“Oh! You… I didn’t mean for you to find that…”

You look up. Namjoon’s standing by the couch, watching you examine his license, wrapped in a towel because if there’s a god, he only wants you to suffer.

“You got your license?”

“Ah… the temporary one, yeah. Still need to take the road test.”

He seems nervous, fidgeting with the blanket on the back of the sofa. You don’t know why he’d be nervous, it’s cool, you think. One more thing to add to the seemingly endless list of things Namjoon can do.

“Proud of you, Namjoonie. But… why? I thought you didn’t want to drive.”

He shrugs. “Don’t really, but… I just thought… Well, I thought if I got up the nerve to ask someone on a date, it would be nice to drive her. Just once or twice. Make it special, I guess. It’s probably stupid, but I thought y—” He cuts himself off and pauses. Looks out the window and scrunches his forehead up like he’s scolding himself. “I thought she might like that,” he says, finally.

“Did she tell you to get a license?” You’re sure you sound as outraged as you feel when you ask.

“No! She wouldn’t… No. I just wanted to try.”

“Okay. Okay, good. You shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, Joonie.” And then you do that thing again, where you say too much, where it comes out too fond. “You’re more than enough just the way you are. If she doesn’t know that, she’s not good enough for you.”

Namjoon smiles softly. “I’m starting to think she does,” he says.

And the look on his face… It’s happiness and warmth and fuck you wish it was for you. Those nagging feelings of wanting more more more from him are welling up in your chest. “Good,” you say, still too tender as you set the card in his palm and scoot past him to your room, mail forgotten. “That’s the very least of what you deserve.”

Later that night, you’ve tucked the soft and vulnerable parts of you back inside, showered, ordered food, and sent Namjoon down to pick it up with a stop at the convenience store for soju and beer. You can do this, you tell yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up for the first time you both will hang out with all your friends in months.

The summer is drawing to an end. Seokjin and Taehyung are done teaching, Jimin and Hoseok got back over the weekend, Yoongi’s internship ended the week prior, and Jeongguk is back from his visit home, everyone returning in time to buy books and settle in for the new semester.

You and Namjoon have decided to keep the apartment: close enough to campus, affordable enough, and you both bashfully agreed you liked living together, an arrangement sealed with the secret handshake greeting from a drama you’d watched together over the summer. So, you have the biggest apartment out of all your friends (which doesn’t say much), and they’ve all decided in your group chat that the group “welcome home” party would take place in your living room.

Seokjin and Taehyung arrive first, Jeongguk in tow. They’re pouring through your door play-fighting and laughing and for a minute, you forget your crush on your roommate, you forget he’s pining after someone else, and you just feel so much joy that your friends are back as they pull you into a crushing group hug.

“We brought wine,” Seokjin says.

“Ew!” (A twin chorus from you and Jeongguk).

“Fine, you two have your cheap soju and leave the good stuff for the rest of us.”

“Hyung, that bottle was only six—”

“Shh! Have some respect!” Seokjin says, slapping in the air in Tae’s general direction.

They file into the kitchen to drop off snacks and cheap wine while you leave to dig around in Namjoon’s room for some records to play. It’s a hassle, finding enough that you like and then having to flip them every fifteen minutes, so you finally give up and resign yourself to just playing a playlist off your phone. Or anyone’s phone except Taehyung’s anyway, because “experimental jazz night” was not a hit last time he suckered you all into it.

When you come back down the hall, your kitchen is suspiciously quiet. There is whispering and you can’t hear what they’re saying but you know anytime Jeongguk and Seokjin are colluding that it means trouble.

“What’s going on in here?” You ask as you make it back to the kitchen.

The three of them are reading the notes on your fridge and they all hop around immediately. Jeongguk and Taehyung have the decency to look guilty, but Seokjin just looks like he’s unearthed the lost city or something.

“What are these?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Our shopping list? Chore list?”

Seokjin grins. “No, not those… These.” He plucks a sticky off the fridge and starts reading it aloud.

“...And greet the all auspicious day,

Whose privilege permits my song—”

You can feel your face like a wildfire, hot and persistent, as you snatch the piece of paper out of his hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“That’s nothing. Just a poem”

“That’s not nothing, that’s a love poem.”

“We just leave each other quotes sometimes,” you mutter, fussing around the kitchen, opening the bags of snacks and setting them on the counter. “It’s no big deal. Just a small thing.”

Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes. “And you sometimes leave each other love poems?” he asks cautiously.

“I guess… It’s whatever,” you say.

“What’s whatever?” Hoseok’s bright voice drifts into the room. You snap your head up to see that he’s with Jimin, and they’re followed in by Yoongi and Namjoon, carrying all the food and drinks.

“Namjoon hyung and Noona leave each other love notes on the fridge!” Jeongguk says brightly. “It’s so cute.”

Your jaw actually drops, and you see in your periphery, Namjoon’s is doing the same.

“They’re not love notes!” You protest.

“They’re poems,” Namjoon adds with indignance.

“Besides,” you add, “he’s got a girlfriend or whatever.” You know you sound a little annoyed, and you don’t want to, but it’s worth it if it gets them off your backs.

“Wait, what?” Yoongi finally joins the conversation, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen.

Six pairs of eyes are on you, and one (Namjoon’s) is anywhere but. You get the offputting feeling that something is happening, but you don’t know what. That the boys staring at you know something you don’t.

“Namjoonie… He’s got a girl he likes. So, they’re not love notes. They’re just quotes we like.”

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, and then Hoseok says, “Oh my god, they are that bad.”

Seokjin nods. “The worst, actually.”

“What? What is going on?” You ask. The question is directed at anyone, but you’re looking straight at Namjoon, who still won’t look at you.

“I’m just gonna open some soju,” Jimin says. “Come on, guys.”

The statement is clearly directed at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk, who are all still huddled by the fridge, clearly amused at whatever is unfolding in your kitchen. One by one, they file out. Namjoon tries to follow them, but Yoongi unceremoniously shoves him back into the kitchen with a hissed, “I don’t think so, Namjoon.”

“I’m so confused,” you say quietly. Namjoon finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and he looks so so nervous. Just like the day you’d agreed to be roommates. You have no idea why, because you’d never do anything to make him feel that way, not on purpose. “Is this about her? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—”

“No! I mean… yeah, it’s about her. Or you, I guess?”

“Me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You. You and her.”

“I don’t even know her, Namjoonie.”

He sighs. “You are her.”

You’re every meme of confused people trying to do math. You think you probably have a literal question mark above your head. You think you heard him right but… but there’s no way that it’s what he meant.

“What?”

Namjoon looks like it’s almost painful to keep speaking, also a little apologetic. “I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like you so much, and I’m a dick for agreeing to be your roommate when I felt that way, and I thought after that one time… Well, I thought maybe you needed more and that’s why it never happened again, so I started going to the gym more and trying to… I don’t know. Be more?” He runs a hand through his hair and slumps against the counter. “I just like you so much and I wanted you to like me, too. But I—”

“You like me?”

“Oh, fuck, so much.” It’s almost out like a breath, floats through the space between the two of you, waves itself in front of your face.

“That’s why you thought it would be weird to be roommates…” you say, pieces clicking together.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “And why I tried to get biceps like Jimin and why I leave you love notes on the fridge, and why I wrote you a whole song about how incredible you are, how you make me feel, and how much I want you even though you don’t want me back…”

“Biceps like Jimin?”

“You said they were nice…”

“Oh my god.” Little details of the past few months since you slept together all start floating around in your head and you see it so clearly now, it all starts to make sense, all the silly little things Namjoon does for you because it’s you, because he likes you… and oh no…

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah?” He’s painfully cute like this—nervous and a little shy, hair falling into his eyes like it can protect him from looking right at you.

You take a couple of steps closer to him. “I like you, too.”

“You what?”

“I like you, too. Just the way you are. I like all the nice small things you do for me, I like how you think, I like how you smell like soap all the time ‘cause you take a million showers… I like living with you… I like your records and your books and… And it’s stupid probably, but I save all your doodles like a teenager would ‘cause I just like you so fucking much… And I’m the bad friend, the one who moved in with you even though I liked you like this. I thought I would get over it. I thought… I don’t know. I thought after we slept together you just wanted to be friends, so I’ve been trying so hard, but…”

“It’s awful,” he says, a giant grin on his face as he watches you stumble through your confession. “I thought you just wanted to be friends, too. You left before I could ask you to stay.”

“Yeah, it is awful. Liked you since that first day in the library.”

“Fuck, me too. We’re so ridiculous.”

“Jin was right, we’re the worst,” you whisper.

“You are!” You hear Jin call from the living room.

You let your head fall forward and bury it in Namjoon’s chest as he wraps an arm (with a perfectly sized bicep, you note, reminding yourself to tell him later) around you and laughs into your hair.

“You’re listening to us?” you protest.

“Hard not to,” Yoongi answers, “small apartment.”

“You fucked?!” Hoseok yells.

“Oh my god,” you moan into Namjoon’s shirt.

“I bet they made love,” you hear a dreamy-voiced Jimin chime in.

You can feel Namjoon’s laugh rumble through his chest against your ear. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt in months.

“So,” you start, pulling your head off his chest, but letting him slide his arm down yours until you’re loosely holding hands. “What now?”

“Well, we should probably talk.”

You peek around him to see your friends all staring at you. “Maybe later?” you ask.

“Later is good.” Namjoon smiles so so big. You love knowing that you’re the one making him feel happy, you think you’re a little ridiculous for being jealous of some other non-existent girl this whole time.

“We like each other,” you say, still a little in shock.

“We do.”

Then, because you’re you, and you have not ever once been cool in front of Kim Namjoon, you lift your palm up. And because he’s him, and now you know he probably thinks he has never once been cool around you, he gives you a high five, his palm connecting with yours and then lingering there while you look at each other and you try not to lift up on your toes and kiss the shit out of him.

“Did they just high five?” Hoseok asks, incredulous.

“They’re so weird. Do you remember when they shook hands on being roommates when it was so obvious they wanted to jump each other on the couch? They probably kissed no tongue and called it sex,” Seokjin says, unhelpfully.

“Hey!” you shout. “We can hear you!”

“The sex was really great, for your information,” Namjoon says, and your face heats immediately.

“It was,” you agree, if for no other reason than it really really was. And you want to make Seokjin as uncomfortable as possible. “Namjoon really knows wh—”

“This is going to be even worse than them being oblivious, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks no one in particular, cutting you off.

But that night after your friends leave, and you do get the chance to kiss Namjoon again, who is now not only your roommate, but your boyfriend, you know Yoongi couldn’t have been more wrong. This is infinitely better than being oblivious to Namjoon's feelings.

“What do you see in me?” he says into the ceiling, sweaty and a little hazy post-orgasm, after you’d made sure to seal your new arrangement properly. No high fives, no handshakes, just long kisses and nervous touches turning more sure, Namjoon making sure to whisper into your skin how much he cares for you, how sexy he thinks you are, how long he’s waited to have you again like this…

(And you returning those words, moving your hips in slow circles in his lap, fingernails trailing across his shoulders as you tell him how good he is, how gorgeous he looks, how his biceps are the exact right size for you to squeeze—which makes him laugh while he fucks you, and if that’s not the best thing you’ll ever see in your life, you’re not sure what is...)

You lace your fingers with his and turn to him, thinking about all the things you love about him, how all those pieces layer together to make something so big that it seems to take up your whole heart. “I like all the small things that make you, you.”

And he kisses you as a reply, lips soft and sweet on yours, and you decide that from now on, Tuesdays are for kissing your boyfriend in the moonlight and making sure he knows exactly how much you like him so that neither of you are ever unsure again.

#namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfiction #knj x reader #kvanity #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts fluff #bts writing #bts fanfic #bts imagines

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natsukishinomiyaswife · 27 days

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⋆ 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼: 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓼 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

This was the first story I ever posted on my old blog, and my first series too! It was a series that featured most of the Twisted Wonderland cast as fathers, and what their child/children are like! (With the Reader being referred to as mom!)

I had only completed Riddle and Cater's parts (while posting sneak peaks of others), and I may come back to it someday! Until then, enjoy! ♡

⋆ As a father I believe that Riddle would be strict but fair. He would be patient with his children and control his temper but wouldn’t be afraid to put his foot down. He’d be the type of parent to implement chore wheels and good behavior charts and use parental controls on electronics to make sure his kids keep up with their studies. If they were doing particularly bad in a certain subject or struggled with something, Riddle would be more than happy to tutor them. He would make worksheets to help them practice and would take extra care helping them with homework or assignments, and make sure to go over exactly what they’re struggling with until they understood. If his child’s school had a PTA (Parent Teacher Association) he would be a part of it for sure.

⋆ Riddle’s eldest son would be a little troublemaker, not really following any of the rules Riddle makes. Instead, he would question Riddle’s rules and create his own, making a game out of it. Riddle once tried to follow his son’s rules (in the hopes that it would teach him some obedience), but his son just gave him a look of confusion before stating that the rules had changed, and that Riddle was now breaking the rules by following the old ones. Let’s just say this game is Riddle’s least favorite lol

⋆ While he’s good for his mom, he enjoys riling his father up and always acts innocent afterwards in the hopes of getting away with it (You never really seem to buy it though)

⋆ He has a big sweet tooth (just like his father), constantly trying to sneak cookies or tarts or cakes out of the kitchen. Half the time he doesn’t even try to sneak it, just grabs whatever he’s after and makes a run for it. You’ll be doing some cleaning, trying to tidy up the house, when suddenly here comes your toddler running with fistfuls of cookies while your husband chases after him. Even when you lock the desserts up he still somehow manages to get them, much to Riddle’s dismay.

⋆ In place of gold stars you decided to get scented stickers shaped like desserts for the good behavior chart, as that seemed to encourage your eldest son to behave more

⋆ Whenever he has a nightmare, he always goes to his dad. You’ve walked into the kitchen more than once in the early morning and found Riddle and your son fast asleep at the table, half empty mugs of milk and cookie crumbs around them. It’s a sight that always fills you with warmth.

⋆ When he gets to be a little bit older (around 5 or 6) You and Riddle cave and get him the pet hedgehog he’d been wanting (Riddle hoping it teaches him some responsibility) He is very responsible when it comes to his pet and takes excellent care of him. He considers the hedgehog to be his best friend (and partner in crime), taking him wherever he goes. (The hedgehog’s name is Beef Hedgington, and he’s named after Beef Wellington)

⋆ The boys are around 5-6 years apart age wise, so your eldest son got his pet hedgehog Beef before his little brother was born.

⋆ There are plenty of times where you or Riddle would enter the baby’s room and find that your eldest left his pet in his brother’s crib. When you ask him, he’d simply say that Beef is there to watch over him and protect him if need be. It makes for some cute photos in the family album!

⋆ Riddle’s younger son is quite the contrast to his brother, a shy boy that tries his best to follow the rules and doesn’t want to stand out. He’s content watching quietly in the background as his older brother gets up to his latest shenanigans, though on occasion he can be convinced to join him.

⋆ He prefers to play alone or with his brother, usually keeping to himself while your eldest is running around with the other kids at the park. He gets a bit anxious in social situations, especially when he’s unfamiliar with the person. But if another kid did approach him and wanted to play with him he would hesitate for a second before nodding his head yes, gesturing towards the toys he was playing with. It always makes you and Riddle so happy whenever he makes a new friend at school, his body language giving away how excited he is.

⋆ Much like your husband and eldest son (and you), your younger son also has a big sweet tooth. Unlike your eldest though, he doesn’t try to sneak or take any desserts. Instead he would follow you around as you’re baking, or gaze longingly at whatever sweet he wanted. You would pick up on this and give him one as a treat, or let him lick the spoon while you’re baking (after making him promise not to tell his brother)

⋆ Riddle started a tradition where when it’s someone’s birthday in the family, you would all go to Trey’s bakery and get them their own special cake/dessert. The kid’s always get so excited whenever they get to go see their “Uncle Trey”, especially when it’s one of their birthdays. They always have fun choosing a different cake flavor or dessert every year, watching Trey make and decorate it before serving it to them. You have a special photo album specifically for these occasions, making sure to always include Trey and his family in the pictures.

⋆ One of your favorites in the album is a photo from Riddle’s birthday, his face and shirt a mess of frosting as your two boys had both wanted to feed their father his cake. Trey is in the background laughing while your off to the side trying to wipe some frosting off Riddle’s face, your two boys smiling towards the camera with frosting smudged around their mouths. It’s a photo you love so much you end up framing it and hanging it near the front door so that it’s the last thing Riddle sees when he leaves to go to work. A beautiful reminder of his wonderful and loving family ♡

Originally posted: November 25th, 2023

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader

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icu-now · 1 year

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18+ switch!eddie? but mostly sub!eddie x dom!reader, gn!reader

so ... eddie wears boxers, agreed? like he's such a boy ass boy wearing boxer shorts. he has ones with green and blue plaid; or red and navy gingham; and his fanciest pair he owns is plain denim blue (but all bought in value packs). and what you love about them more than getting to take them off heehe is how they peek out of his waistband when he reaches for something above the fridge. the shirt that already sits pretty at the edge of his belt loops with his arms down; lifts just that little bit, and the ruched cotton has you licking your lips at the tuft of hair it flattens. eddie chuckles before you can catch yourself and spill half a spoonful of cheerios and milk on the table.

okkkkk starting to scream now bc getting to take them off ... . . . you two have been making out on wayne's lazy boy for about half of a random def leppard album eddie got a boot leg of. cranked high in his room to hear it comfortably in the living room, you love it how the groans between each of his heavy breaths are amplified as you kiss down his neck. you make sure you've locked his eyes before sliding between his legs, steadying yourself on his quads. you've been palming at the denim around his thighs, hips, and crotch for about two and a half songs now and obviously for eddie that's been ages. he's whining into his shoulder and his knuckles are white clenching at the sides of his thighs wishing you'd touch him. and it's quite embarrassing how loud he gasps when you pop the button of his jeans with just your thumb and forefinger. you trail your fingers between elastic and skin until they meet at his tailbone. and u can feel how giddy he is when he does that little hip lift thing, only for you tug at his beltloops, loosening his jeans anchored by his body weight and leaving his boxers mostly on.

rightfully, you earn a, "babe--heh baby..." from eddie. kneeling between his lap, your hands meet at the crease of his hips, finally touching his hard bulge and you're smirking. you feel his thick cock heavy against his thigh and squeeze a little harder, enjoying how with each pulse of your fingers, eddie thrusts his hips into your chest.

he couldnt hold his hands at his sides anymore and tried palmed himself over your hands, but you tsk'ed them away before he could get any meaningful relief. "aw, honey, how do i know what you want if you don't use your words, huh?" you spit his own words he used on u just last night back at him, revelling in how it feels to be on the other side. eddie is so cute when he's flustered and can't think of anything he wants more than your hands under his boxers. "d'you want me to..." you cup at his balls with one hand, and bring your other to his waistband. "touch you..." you hook a finger under the elastic this time, "under here?" he can't come up with an answer for you other than a furious nod of his blushed face. you release the elastic you pulled taut and it dully snaps back onto the yummy path of hair on his lower stomach. god he's whining so loud and you fucking love how close to tears he is, you throw him a bone and sit up on your knees, kissing his jawline up to his lips. you slip a hand under his boxers as soon as your lips touch, and he almost screams. you massage at the base and slowly work your way up his shaft, preoccupying you, letting eddie slip his tounge past your lips. almost feeling bad about your cruelty, you let him kiss you sloppy as you start to spread his precum over the head of his cock. once you did that, he almost jerked you off of his lap, and that's when you've had enough. you take a step back from the lazy boy, admiring the pair of green and blue plaid he put on today, and yank the cotton clean off his hips to bunch at his knees with his jeans. you look at him through your lashes, biting a smile, and his giggles are delirious in response.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

not proofread! sorry wayne ill get u a new lazyboy!!

a/n hiiiiii this is the first fic ive written in years and my first smutty fic! ive been a long long long time reader and always wanted to write fics to bam first post heheeh ALSO im taking requests! if anyone is reading this lol here's my inbox :)

pls lmk if u liked this :*

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listonstuff · 28 days

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I am seeing alot of criticisms for tay like never before. This album release was the last straw and more people are coming out and calling out her bullshit. Her antics are exposed now and im so shocked at how many things she got away easily bc of her innocent facade she was pulling all this long. Even i was blindfolded.

Incredibly disgusted by her behaviour of her openly claiming racist man and calling her own fans vipers. Im glad some swifties are calling her out. She might have seen the blacklash. Did she really think she can get away by openly claiming a racist piece of shit and no one would be bothered about it? Even willing to mask out her good girl facade to defend this… creep?

Her silence now really tells that she is seeing the criticisms now. Many music critic articles calling her out and her quick buck album release really tells all she care about is milking the profit and not passion for music.

Only twitter is the cesspool that rides for this lame album. Every social media is sick of her relentless advertising of her mediocre album. Does she know that her only fans will listen to her music and no one even casual pop music enjoyers wouldnt peek into her music anymore. Her 2014 had solid pop hits garnering fans even tho they dont listen to her. Sadly no one is excited for this except her fans.

I wont doubt at all when she pulls another stunt to clean her image off and her hard pr will publish articles about how forgiving and generous she is even though she couldnt let go of the feud that happened decade ag by involving the child too…. Pathetic

I used to be her fan but looking at her state and the moment she decided to dare and flaunt that racist man, she lost so many of her fans. Is it so hard to stay away from that man who openly claims that he would je*k off to dehumanising black women porn ? Such a downgrade from dating a man like joe, an outspoken Palestine supporter to this sleezebag and not to mention her defying silence and refusal to utter a word about Palestine is so…. The allegations about her ideologies are so true right now…. A white billionaire with questionable tactics with no respect to her own self and her not speaking a word about ring wingers aryan goddess worshipping thats happening for years and yet she wants to entertain both side by appearing a liberal queen but not so liberal to piss off her conservative audience.

The soon she realises, the better it will be. Inorganic star status wont withstand long. Swiffers comparing her to mj please

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift #swifties #anti matty healy #ttpd #joke of a woman #ex swiftie

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vase-of-lilies · 1 year

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Bubbles Baths and Babbles

❀ Mommy!Natasha x Little!Reader (F)

❀ Age Regression, sick reader, flu like symptoms (lol not covid), puke (sorry), fluff and more fluff ^-^

❀ Request: Little!reader becomes really sick and regresses to a baby headspace and needs mommy!nat to take care of her. Little!reader is very whiny and babbles to communicate with Nat :)

❀ A/N: This was requested by a sweet anon when my blog didn't shit itself a while ago. I hadn't backed it up to my AO3 account yet so it unfortunately got deleted along with the rest of my stories that didn't get saved:( I hope that it was ok that I changed a couple things, and I hope this turned out ok! Thank you for understanding!! <3

Nats ears perked as she heard a soft sneeze come from the nursery. Nat had just gotten back from a mission, only to come home to find her baby sick and needing her mommy. She set her book down and entered your room, sighing as she sees you on your bed covered in a mountain of blankets. Sitting beside you, a pile of used tissues as well. Knowing what to do, her mommy instincts take over immediately.

"Oh my little spider, are you not feeling very good?" You shake your head with a small whimper to accompany it. With a small frown on her lips, she rubs your back as she helps you grab the bowl beside your bed. "It's ok my маленький паук (Little spider), let it all out, then we can get you in a nice warm bath, ok?"

Nodding weakly you continue to let out the remains of your small breakfast, whimpering when you finish. "Here, love drink some water." Nat puts a fresh glass of water to your lips, and you graciously take a few gulps, sighing as you lean against her.

"Oh baby, I know. Im so sorry that I wasn't here when you started feeling icky. Did Aunty Wanda take good care of you while I was gone?" With a small smile, you nod at the thought of your "aunt" coming over to help you with some soup and getting you to bed for your nap.

"Alllll-righty, let's get you in that bath, how does that sound?" All you let out are a few whines here and there, making Nat fall for you all over again. As she picks you up, you cling to her like a sloth to her mother, making her smile and hold you even tighter.

"Mama, baba? Pees?" It took her a minute to process what you had said, but she knows 'baba' when she hears it. "Do you want your bottle, little one? Aw, my baby wants some milk? Alright, let's get you nice and warm in the tub first, ok?" You nod and happily watch your mommy as she fills the tub with warm water. Nat made sure to pour your favorite [add scent here] scented bubble bath to the running water, absolutely loving your reaction to all of the bubbles floating around.

You nod in excitement at her next sentence; "I know you love the bubbles, рыбочка (little fish)."

Once the bath was filled to a good hight, she gently got you undressed and sat you in the warm water. "How does that feel, little one? Nice and warm? Not too hot?" She asks, but you don't listen as your baby brain takes over. She chuckles and ruffles your hair, smiling as your giggles fill the bathroom.

Nat watches you from the small kitchen, just in eye line of the tub as she makes your bottle. The sight of you playing with the bubbles and your toy duck made Nat melt. She took a sweet picture with the bubbles around your body and saved it to her "little spider" album on her phone. Quickly coming back to you, she smiles as your face lights up when she comes into the bathroom. "Mama! Mama! Duggy, duggy!" You hold up your duck with a bright smile and Nat gently boops your nose.

"Yes, ducky! Your very cute ducky." She says, starting to undress as well. Sitting in the bath with you has been a joy to Nat ever since you first started becoming comfortable in your little space around her. She loves how you lay on her chest and lift the bubbles along her skin. She absolutely loves being with you and so close to you.

She reaches for your warm bottle on the soft rug by the tub and gently moves your hair from your face as you lay on her chest. "Here you go baby, open up." You open your mouth willingly, happily sucking on the nipple of the bottle in Nats hands. "There you go дорогая (Sweetheart). Mama's got you." She whispers, her nails tickling your back softly as you doze off on her chest.

A small cough escaped your mouth every few minutes, but the steam from the bathroom has helped with your congestion. "You'll be just fine, my love, I'll take good care of you."

#Natasha x little reader #Natasha Romanoff x reader #female reader #nat x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #mommy natasha x little!reader #sick fic

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serendihoope · 6 months

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Something About You|JJK FF(1)

★Summary:"Please help me"

Y/ N is a college girl. Her life is full of bubbles.But with whom she fall in love?Does she aware about her lover's dual side?

★Genre:Mafia,smut,vio!lance, romance,Mature,idol au,fake personality,Age-Gap

★Warning:Its totally a fiction. Dont take it seriously. This work is based on author's imagination.

20 minutes later,I reached to the cafe and booked a table beside a large window that will help me to look at the outside things. There is a park beside the cafe.Little children enjoying their life at fullest and their parebts are looking at them lovingly,happily.I sighed.I wish my parents are like them.It's not that my parents dont love me but I personally dont feel that the love is real.Maybe they are run out of love?Sometimes I think they love my dead older brother more.Well,I had a older brother who was 4 years older than me.A bike accident lead him to his death when I was 14 years old.I am not jealous of him nor i dont love him.. Its like he had taken all love from my parents. After his death,my parents somehow became cold towards me and also we really dont talk with each other.Just good morning, good bye,how are you and nothing more..I was deep in my thought that I have not realized a tear rolled down from my cheek.I quickly wiped it and see that Yeji my dearest bestie is coming towards me. We hugged each other and we ordered our favourite boba tea.We were chit-chatting but suddenly my phone starts to buzz.I take out my phone from my hello kitty hand bag."What is it bro?"Yeji asked. I excitedly showed my phone towards her and she gasps."Jungkook is holding a fan meeting and it’s o-o-ffline!!??"I nodded my head. "Bro!we should apply for the fanmeeting to get a invitation cardd..Oh my goodness,we will be able to see the most handsome person Jeon Jungkook with our bare eyes!!!???" I slapped her hand playfully,"We haven’t apply for the invitation..just stop it your dramatic ass"."Then,we should apply for the invitation."we said it together and laughed.Lol,that's called telepathy. But suddenly something clicked in my head, "I dont have enough money for the fan meeting " I sadly beamed."You stupid, Don't be sad.You have me nah!I will pay for you"."Really?"Yeji nodded and flipped her hair dramatically. I laughed at her behaviour and I satrted to fill-up the forms and fulfilled their all formalities. We talked a while then we bade each other bye.We just have to wait for the approval of going to the fan meeting.Please Almighty just help us to approve it.

I came home and see the house is empty as expected my parents have gone to their respective offices.I went to the kitchen and grabbed my chocolate milk and see a sticky note is hanging on the fridge note holder.You sighed because your parents have gone to Busan for work purpose and they will come back after two weeks.Maybe they are obsessed with sticky notes, they dont care to tell me face to face.Well,why am i complaining?!

I was doing some works and suddenly my phone buzzes and what i see make me jump in excitement.Oh my goodnesss!!!!I get the invitation cardddddddd and yes yeji also get it.I have to call yeji. She will be super happy.

At Fansign Event

I am wearing a floral frock dress.There are so many armies,some of them came from another country to attend this fansign.Jungkook have come and he also have sang some of his album's songs and its really ethereal.

My turn have come to talk with Jungkook.I am feeling so much nervousness. I went infront of Jungkook and the way he smiled at me make me blush so hard.We talked for a while and he was holding my hand.Pure Euphoria. I give him his gift and bid him goodbye.I am gonna miss him.

But who knows that Y/N is going to meet Jungkook again but not in normal state but in HELPLESS state.

Y/N Pov:

I am heading to my home and an alley come infront of me.I really dont know about this alley but it is getting late and I have to go home.So i started walking in the alley.Suddenly a cold hand hold my wrist.I looked at the person and a shiver ran into my spine.

"Hey Babygirl,where are you going alone.Come with us,we will drop you"

The thug smirked. I started to crying.This cant be happen. Who the fuck they are!

"Leave me.I SAID LEAVE ME!"

"Awww,Babygirl get so much audacity.Hey!come here, lift her.We get our dinner."

"Yes boss".

When they come infront me.I pushed them with my all strength and started to running but they throw a middle size brick towards my head and I fell down in the road.

I started to crying more and more.One of them slapped me so hard,teared my dress sleeve. I was struggling. Suddenly my hand came contact with sand.I Quickly gathered so many sand and throw them into their eyes.

Again,I started to running.My eyes started to get blurry,my head was spinning but suddenly i came infront of a car.I fell down on the road so hardly.

Jungkook PoV:

" Anthony,did you talk with the inferno mafias?who were asking for the gu--

"What the hell Nico!?why did you stopped the car so hardly!??"

"Boss,there is a g-g-girl--

" Oh shit!Did you bump into her?

"No boss"

I get down from the car and come infront of the girl.What I heared made my eyes widen.

"Please help me "

A/N:Finally,the 1st chap of something about you is done.Please show your love and thanks for showing love to drooling 💗,the twist of something about you will start from the chap-2 and there will be another oneshot that i am working in.I will try to update it early.Thank you and Love you peps💗

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #jjk smut

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in-death-we-fall · 1 year

Text

Aesthetics of Hate

This is the House of Nine. There is a horror that echoes through its walls. There is a horror that shifts and broods. A horror that coils itself into a moment of truth. This is our house. We have heard it sing.

It’s started again, hasn’t it? That’s why we’re back. That’s why we’ve… changed.

Back? Listen.

We never left.

Slipknot’s drug, alcohol and ego problems are history. No longer at war with each other, the only struggle now is finding a way to finish it.

Words: Ken McIntyre. Pics: Steve Brown.

Aka the one that aged like milk. Many thanks to @incredizort for sharing your collection. (docs link)

The are the village people of the damned, a psychedelic terror circus populated by depressed clowns, obsessive-compulsives, misanthropes, cyborgs, droogs, ghouls, and goblins. Their sound is a barrage of noise and confusion, a bundle of hiss and the dynamiting of mountains. They look like escaped mental patients on Halloween, and their demeanor vacillates between grandiose and openly hostile. They are Slipknot, and they are legion.

Since 1995, these nine creatures of latex and bone from the fertile plains of Des Moines, Iowa, have lorded over their dysfunctional kingdom of maggots and problem children with shaky hands that have often succumbed to their own wretched excesses. As the band went from strength to strength, from the runaway freight train of their 1999 self-titled debut album to the embittered, embattled success of 2001’s Iowa and their surprisingly tuneful comeback, 2004’s Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses), Slipknot scaled unheard-of heights for an extreme metal band, snapping up Gold and Platinum albums, winning Grammy awards, infiltrating the mainstream like sinister double agents.

But none of it came easy, and lurking behind the mask was a band at war with itself; a band riddled with drug, alcohol, and ego problems. In 2005, the levy finally broke, and Sipknot took a much-needed break, the various members healing, mending fences, and exploring other creative avenues. Singer Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root returned to Stone Sour, drummer Joey Jordison played with a myriad of bands, from Korn to Metallica, and drummer and visual artist Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan produced the revealing ‘Knot-doc Voliminal: Inside The Nine, among other projects.

But they could not avoid their fates forever, and so Slipknot return with a roaring new album, All Hope Is Gone, which pits a burgeoning retro-thrash metal obsession and their recent flirtations with melody against their original vision of pure, bloodlusting aggression and brutality. And with this latest dispatch from the abyss comes the expected media saturation, as well as an endless arc of tours and festivals and television performances. It is during the brief calm before the storm that Metal Hammer catches up with Slipknot, rehearsing their new set at Wells fargo Arena in downtown Des Moines.

Slipknot (left to right): Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan, Chris Fehn, Craig Jones, Joey Jordison, Paul Gray, Mick Thomson, James Root, Sid Wilson Corey Taylor

They say it’s what’s inside you that counts.

That’s what scares me.

It’s in all of us

It’s what binds us that makes us clash. It will happen again.

We’re twisted pieces of the same puzzle. Nine faces that speak with one voice.

The voice of madness…?

Is it normal to be practising in an arena? Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan (percussion): “It’s not normal, but it’s not surprising at the level we’re at. It was my idea to do this, to practise in the small room and get it tight, and then to come out here and get the feeling of the arena again. Otherwise, you’re practising in people’s houses, and we’re nine brothers. Imagine nine brothers with nine families and everybody running with different crews, and all having different morals and standards and spiritualities. Imagine that fuckin’ insanity. So this makes sense.”

Des Moines had a series of floods recently. Did they affect the band at all? Corey Taylor (vocals): “Not really. I spent a couple days running around saving my friends. Everybody I knew with the exception of just a couple people lived on the flood plain, so I was just going out and helping people get the fuck out of there. I had a house full of people for a week.”

For years now, there have been allegations that you guys all hate each other. Is the band still dysfunctional? Joey Jordison (drums): “Yeah, we are dysfunctional. But I mean, we all grew up together. Me and Mick [Thompson (sic), guitar] are like, best friends, and I used to detest that guy. We fuckin’ hated each other, man. And Shawn, me and him are probably the closest brothers in the whole band, but we probably get along the least because we love each other so much, and we control a lot of what goes on in Slipknot. We’re constantly butting heads. I remember right before Ozzfest, you could just cut the tension between me and him with a knife, it was so thick, and one day I left practice (sic) all pissed off, and I was saying, ‘Fuck off, I think I’m quitting.’ There we were, we just got the ticket, we were on our way to making it. That’s how fuckin’ stressed out we were. And literally – he’s a lot bigger than I am – Shawn flipped his kit over, came over to my drumset, ripped my stuff down and held me by the fuckin’ throat, and I grabbed his throat and went to punch him, and then the whole band dogpiled us. We’ve had lots of fights like that, real fistfights. But even though we still get into fights, we don’t let them last that long anymore. The band is just so intense. I mean, we’ve got nine extreme personalities here.”

That reminds me, on a scale on (sic) one to 10, how nuts is your DJ, Sid? He just told me that he’s a cyborg, and I think he really means it. Joey: “One to 10? Like, 13. Yeah, he’s crazy. You take 72 hits of acid in one weekend, it’s gonna fry your brain up a little bit.”

How do you guys balance all the side-projects with Slipknot? Joey: “It’s fuckin’ simple. Slipknot comes first.”

So it didn’t take any convincing to get everybody back to do a new album? Joey: “Well, it usually happens when the other bands sorta run their course. Certain people in the band decide not to do anything, they just chill out until the next Slipknot record. Me, I do a lot of work with other bands, but Slipknot’s my priority, and I’m glad to be back playing with these guys. The first day when we started rehearsal, usually people are laidback (sic), it was like headbang city man, and we were like, ‘Let’s just get out metal necks, let’s get that shit out of the way.’ It feels great, man. I’m happy.” Corey: “ I was completely stoked to do it. I’d actually started thinking of it and preparing for it on the Stone Sour tour. I just started filling notebooks with ideas. It got to the point where I had two notebooks full of stuff, and I was just ready to go. So as soon as the music was written and the demos started floating around, I was just like, ‘OK, this fits here and this fits here.’ I wasn’t rushing around to write lyrics, which a lot of guys do. I was very prepared and not only was I saying everything I wanted to say, but I was doing it in a way I was ecstatic about. I knew I wanted to go heavier, and I knew at the same time that I wanted to balance that with this melodic side that we had really tapped into. And the proof is there. I think this album is the best thing we’ve ever done, to be honest. I think it really shows the growth of the band and the maturity. But it’s still chaotic and heavy, but it’s still got those moments where you just go, ‘Holy fucking shit!’ Not only is it good, but the more you listen to it, the more you find. There’s a lot of layers, and that’s something that gets lost on a lot of people. There’s just so much thought and so much meaning behind everything we do. It’s not just shock for shock’s sake.”

What’s the theme for All Hope Is Lost (sic)? Umm, hopelessness by any chance? Corey: “It’s not a blatantly political or social album, and it’s not a blatantly angry album. I think the overwhelming theme, for me, is that none of us are the same, but none of us are different. We may change as people, but if we use the same energy to try and solve different problems, nothing is going to get accomplished. And that’s something that I think is lost on a lot of people.”

What was it like having Dave Fortman as a producer for this one? Joey: “Dave was great. It’s not like when we were recording with Rick Rubin – he was like an oracle. He would make these little tweaks from his house. He’d sit in this little library in his house, he’d sit there cross-legged with these prayer beads and he’d get a vibe, and he’d tell the engineer what to do. That was a weird way to record. But Dave, he was there every hour, every day. When we write songs, we tend to write really long like, [Metallica’s] …And Justice For All- type songs, nine or 10 minutes long. So we’d record the song like that, and Dave would help us chop it down. The thing with Dave is, that guy knows his tones. I finally got the best drum sound in my life. The guitar sound, the bass, the percussion… finally, we’ve got the Slipknot sound I’ve been wanting to hear my whole life.”

You’ve got new masks and new outfits, do you feel constrained at all by them? Corey: “No. We don’t only have these, but we have actual outfits that we put together ourselves. They’re still cohesive, but they’re a little more individualistic. We had started doing that on the last album. It’s part of our evolution. If you’re not evolving, you’re dying. No matter what the fucking fans on the websites say, nobody wants to see the same fucking shit over and over again. This time around, we felt it was very important that we are represented as individuals and not just as a band, as pieces of a puzzle. The new mask and outfits range from outrageous to very subtle. It’s a reflection of who we are. But we also kept the boiler suits, because we like to appear as a unit.”

You guys got saddled with the ‘nu metal’ tag early on. Obviously at this point you’ve overcome it… Corey: “There were a couple of bands that were good and that had a really good attitude. Snot comes to mind. That was an amazing band; I loved Snot. (hed)P.E. – their first couple of albums were amazing, because they had so much attitude, and it was so different. But then you had bands like Limp Wristed and all that crap, where it just got so watered down; the P.O.D.s, fuckin’ bands like that, where there was zero talent going on. It was frustrating being caught up in that, but at the same time, people don’t want to think outside of what they already know. They want their opinions forcefed (sic) to them. So if a magazine comes out and says we’re nu metal, than (sic) that’s what they’re going to say. It took us a long time to change people’s minds. We’re just a metal band. The people that wanted to write us off as a nu metal band weren’t our fans, they just didn’t know what to call us. We just got stronger and stronger and more willing to experiment and so they just didn’t know what we were. In that respect, we sort of created our own genre, and there’s a lot of bands that kinda take cues from us now. It’s kinda weird.”

Slipknot broke the ceiling for extreme metal bands making it in the mainstream. Did it shock you when it was happening? Corey: “At the time we didn’t even think about it, we were just real busy working. We were literally on the road for 18 months and saw home for maybe three weeks in that entire time. We were gone forever. But we knew that was going to happen, so we just put our heads down and did what we had to do, because we just refused to lose. So once we got that done we had time to take a breath. We were getting ready to start on the Iowa tour, and we just turned around and were like, ‘Woah! Look what we did. We’re fucking huge!’ We were playing this place that’s not even there anymore, it was called the Bronco Bowl in Dallas. It was set up like a mini-arena and it was just fucking gagged, fucking jammed with people. I remember walking out on stage and thinking, ‘Are we opening up for somebody? Where did all these fucking people come from?’ They knew every word, they knew everything, I remember coming off stage and just having this amazing smile on my face. I was like, ‘Something’s different. We’re not an opening band anymore.’ And I don’t think we’d ever be again, unless we were opening for somebody like Metallica. It was insane, it was probably the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life.” Joey: “It didn’t happen overnight, because we had to work so hard for it but… it happened overnight. We went on Ozzfest, and three weeks into it we’d sold 150,000 records. Every time we played, everybody – every fucking band, Black Sabbath included – was out there watching us. And we’re out for blood, we fucking hate everybody, just ‘Fuck you!’ That’s always been the Slipknot mentality. We love a lot of other bands, we love a lot of different music, but when it comes to us playing, we just don’t care. It’s your ass. People think it’s arrogant, and it is. We believe in our craft. We believe in Slipknot.”

The voice of the madness perhaps

It’s the nature of madness – it’s always searching for a brave face.

Always changing…

…always the same

It seeks its own martyrdom…

…and to be reborn

Yeah, very fucking profound. Don’t get mad, get eaten.

You want to give food for thought?

It’s just for the food for the maggots.

Th-that’s all, folks.

Is it tough accepting the fact that you have to wear a mask for the next year? Joey: “No, not at all. I’m ecstatic to be back and playing with the guys again. It’s home, man. We take breaks because Slipknot is not just music, it’s a force, it’s a lifestyle. It’s also like being in jail. You’re constricted. You have to be on your game every night to be in this band. The stuff is not easy to play anyway, but we’ve got the whole stage performance, playing in masks, it’s what every band goes through, but with nine guys it’s very intense. I mean, look at this – all nine guys are still together. All nine original guys are still here. What other band can say that?”

So, has anybody ever tried to get out? Joey: “No, no one ever has. That’s why at the end of a 15-month tour cycle, we’re just like, let’s take a break, work on some other projects, just relieve a little stress. But when we come back to Slipknot, it’s on, man. There’s no fucking around.”

So what can we expect from this next tour? Clown: “For one thing, we’re musical, man. I play the fucking drums, so get used to it. I’ve earned the right, I’ve done the time, I’ve been on the mountain with the kung fu masters, learning. If you can’t accept that, go play with the kids’ toys. I’ve worked really hard on my art for this one. I got my boy-scout medals and I’m in the deep woods with no tools, no tent, no nothing, and we’re playing survival, man. Just know that I’m the guy who eats the fucking shit raw, man. If there’s an animal, I’ll fucking eat it. This is fucking Slipknot. That’s what you can fucking expect.”

Is Slipknot meant to last forever, or do you have to write the end of this story? Clown: “You nailed it, man. I am in more pain than anyone could possibly ever know, because I have to find a way to finish this.” Joey: “I don’t think it’s our last record at all, but there’s something seriously going on with this record, that’s for sure. It’s like Friday the 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter. It’s a climax.”

Is Slipknot like Kiss, where you could lose a member and just find somebody else to wear his mask? Clown: “No. If I left this band, we’d be done. If Joey Jordison left this band, we’d be done. All of us, if any of the guys in this band leave… See, it’s been out of our hands for a long time, since 1998. The world is just too dumb, too anti-art, to realise how important this is, to actually accept the truth that yes, if I left the band it’d be over. There could never be a drummer to replace me, man. We are The Nine. There is no one else.”

Nine long, tense, and occasionally violent hours later, Slipknot begin to slink out into the inky-black, dead-still Des Moines night. It’s a mere week until they begin headlining the Mayhem tour in the States, and that’s just the beginning. Once this album hits the streets, it is unlikely that any of them will see their homes again for at least a year, and probably longer. Although the band harbours the expected anxieties about their long-awaited return to the metal arena, the sprawling expansive All Hope Is Gone will probably be their biggest album ever. At this point the eldest members of the band are now approaching 40, while their fanbase still hovers around 18, and that’s the same sort of 18 Alice Cooper once sang about: the confused, angry, half-a-boy, half-a-man kind.

If any of The Nine hoped to escape their fates as the ringleaders of the tormented, those hopes are now dashed.

“Man, it’s fucking embarrassing,” Clown admitted earlier, when we asked him how it felt to be a dad playing teen-rage anthems.

“I’m just glad I’m not alone in this, with this fucking-metal-fucking-arena-rock-fucking-stage-pass-interview-fucking-photoshoot shit. I don’t care about it. Yes, my art has grown into a way of life, yes, there’s a lot of people that live their lives by it, but I’ve always told people, I don’t want to be on the cover of Metal Hammer, I want to be on the cover of National Geographic. I’ve always said that. I’m gonna be on the cover of Metal Hammer anyway, because that’s just what I fucking do. But I want to take you all on another journey, a fucking life journey, a painful journey. There’s a reason why Slipknot gets the people we get: because they’re lost. They’re lost, and they find their way to us. It’s like a cult, man,” he says, staring a hole right through us.

“A cult of fucking pain.”

There are those who say hope springs eternal. They have obviously never spent a day with Slipknot.

A Stitch In Time

A bluffer’s guide to The Nine.

92: Drummer Shawn Crahan and bassist Paul Gray begin playing in a band together.

95: Joey Jordison joins Shawn and Paul, form Meld with guitarists Donnie Steele and Josh Brainard, and singer Anders Colsefini.

96: Donnie leaves the band due to religious beliefs and is replaced by Craig Jones. Meld change their name to Slipknot and begin wearing grotesque make-up and costumes. Craig Jons switches to sampler and Mick Thomson joins on guitar. Slipknot release their first self-released album, Mate.Feel.Kill.Repeat., on Halloween.

97: Corey Taylor replaces Anders on vocals. Chris Fehn joins the band as percussionist. Slipknot start wearing their trademark boiler suits and numbers.

98: DJ Sid Wilson joins the band. They sign to Roadrunner Records.

99: On June 29, the band releases Slipknot, their ‘official’ debut album, and join the Ozzfest tour.

00: Slipknot is certified Platinum.

01: Slipknot release their second album, Iowa, and do the Ozzfest tour again.

02: The band take a break, Corey Taylor revives Stone Sour, Joey Jordison forms Murderdolls. Slipknot attempt to write a follow-up to Iowa, but struggle with inner-band conflicts. Rumours of the band’s imminent break-up start to circulate in the media.

03: Slipknot rally and begin recording new album with producer Rick Rubin.

04: Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses) is released. It quickly goes Platinum. Yet another Ozzfest tour follows.

06: Slipknot win their first Grammy award in the category of Best Metal Performance for Before I Forget. Voliminal: Inside The Nine, a self-produced DVD documentary, is released.

08: All Hope Is Gone released. Chaos ensues.

Project Revolution

Slipknot members are known for their many side projects. Here’s a crib sheet.

Stone Sour

Corey Taylor (vocals) Jim Root (guitar Stone Sour were formed back in 1992 by Corey Taylor and have existed in one form or another ever since. The alt-metal/grunge band have released two albums on Roadrunner Records (Stone Sour in 2002 and Come What(ever) May in 2006), and have been nominated for a Grammy award three times. The band are currently on hold in light of the new Slipknot record, but plans for a third album are in the works.

Murderdolls

Joey Jordison (drums (sic)) A horror-themed glam-punk band with a penchant for fishnet tights and make-up formed in 2002 by Joey Jordison, the Murderdolls also featured former Frankenstein Drag Queens frontman Wednesday 13. The band released their debut album, Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls in 2002 and played together sporadically over the next two years. The band are currently on hiatus, and when asked about the possibility of further recordings, Joey stated: “There might be another album. We’re thinking about it.”

Ministry, etc

Joey Jordison (drums) During his off-hours, Joey keeps busy by filling in on drums for several notable acts, including nu metal pioneers Korn, who he played with at the 2007 Download Festival, Metallica, (Download 2004), and Ministry, who he toured with in the summer of 2006.

DJ Starscream

Sid Wilson Sid Wilson’s day job is as a leading Jungle musician. As Starscream he’s released a host of singles and remixes on the Japanese label N20.

Dirty Little Rabbits

Shawn Crahan (drums) Shawn’s other side-project is a swirly mix of psychedelia and 90s style alt-rock. The band has yet to release an album. Dirty Little Rabbits supported Stone Sour on their 2006-07 US tour.

Dum Fux

Corey Taylor (guitar, vocals) A tongue-in-cheek cover band that plays everything from Flock Of Seagulls to The Stooges. Current status: active.

Audacious P

Corey Taylor (vocals, guitar) Perhaps the world’s only Tenacious D cover band. Currently on hiatus.

To My Surprise

Shawn Crahan (drums) A sun-dappled 60s rock-style band, To My Surprise were signed to Roadrunner Records and released their debut, self-titled album in 2003. It was executive produced by Rick Rubin. The band are on hiatus.

Roadrunner United

Joey Jordison (drums) Paul Gray (bass) Jim Root (guitar) This was a one-off album project put together to celebrate Roadrunner Records’ 25th anniversary. Roadrunner United featured 18 ‘supergroups’ made up of various Roadrunner alumni. Slipknot’s Joey, Jim and Paul played on several of the tracks, along with Type O Negative’s Pete Steele, King Diamond guitarist Andy LaRocque, and Cradle Of Filth bassist Dave Pybus, among others. The Roadrunner United album was released in 2005.

#slipknot #shawn crahan #corey taylor #joey jordison #interview #metal hammer summer 2008

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xuqijie · 1 year

Text

miyawaki sakura x f!reader

# genre ; angst, slight fluff

# tags ; idols!exes to lovers(?), oblivious sakura, reader is suffering because they both have communication issues, mentions of iz*one disbandment, reader and sakura are same age

you never knew why sakura broke up with you before your second comeback. only when the two of you meet at a music show, then you find out the full story of your relationship.

note: stream cupid by fifty fifty like actually soty.

is love real? how could someone ever find their true love in a crowd of 7 billion people? was it even possible to find your soulmate and then somehow evade all obstacles of distance? you thought love could overcome anything.

miyawaki sakura was the love of your life, still is. a disheartening program like produce 48 had somehow given you the best years of your life; a family and a lover both wrapped in a big bow called ‘iz*one.’ when sakura had said, “we’ll stay together forever, as thirteen,” on the last week of pre-disbandment, you should have known she was lying.

when sakura said those three words to you on a night of hardship, you should have known. when she uttered her love and adoration, you should have known.

you should have known she wasn’t telling the truth. because if she truly loved you so, why did she leave? a question that had plaguing your thoughts more and more recently.

immediately after iz*one had disbanded, your then company, the black label, signed you to another contract, one that gave you more freedom in the studio, but restricted personal content. you thought nothing of it at that time, because how could they have ever known you were in a 3 year relationship with one of your ex-members?

the higher-ups knew that iz*one fans were still mourning and wishing for interactions between the members, so they took advantage and instantly you had to put out a song with choi yena, 2 months after iz*one had disbanded. all while sakura was still silent. you didn’t get many updates from her either.

and when your debut did amazingly well, you knew that your management would start to milk you as a member of iz*one.

“sakura didn’t reply to my texts, or calls,” you mentioned offhandedly to yuri and yena one day. the two looked shocked but yuri eased your worries by saying, “she’s probably preparing for her graduation in japan. she did text the group chat about it.”

yena nodded in agreement, but after seeing your body tense up, she quickly changed the subject.

“is the album coming along well?” your second comeback, only a few months after your debut. the hype was slowly dying down and your management was quick to act. this time, instead of having an iz*one member be featured, the title track would be co-written by eunbi and you.

“manager’s been forcing me to do some stuff, attend some parties,” you sighed, “but i don’t wanna spend my friday night shaking hands with men double my age.” yena looked as if she was about to respond, but then your phone lit up.

y/n🐼 [2.19pm]:

kkura i miss you

what are you doing now?

wifey 🐱💛 [5.54pm]:

hi i was recording ♪( ´▽｀)

i miss you too i wna go back to korea :(

you squealed excitedly, showing yena and yuri the text messages. yuri sent you a ‘i told you so’ look while yena faked a gag.

“you two are so disgusting,” she said, while yuri smacked her arm. “you’re just salty because you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“oh yeah? who’s fault is that?”

“what.”

after that day, you had thought your relationship skipped the strain and everything would be okay. it was only until sakura returned back to korea, you received a cryptic message from your then girlfriend.

wifey 🐱💛 [3.28am]:

let’s break up.

and all you could do was stare at the bright screen that greeted you in the wake of dawn until tears fell. of course, you had tried calling her and surprisingly, she picked up, but the phone call just made you more confused.

“why are we breaking up?”

will we stay together forever?

“i don’t love you anymore.”

you’re my favourite person in the world.

“tell me, why?”

are you sure? what if you find someone better than me? or you don’t like me anymore?

“i’m sorry, i don’t have an explanation.”

i would never do that. i swear.

“i hate you, sakura.”

i love you.

“i’m sorry.”

i love you too, y/n.

a beep sounding the loss of sakura in your life. your manager had found you in your room, under the blankets in tears. only a shake of his head and a sigh before he had to escort you to the van. because of course, even after suffering the worst heartbreak of your life, being an idol came first.

your members and especially the elder ones were reasonably upset. nako had threatened to beat sakura up if she had known that your relationship would end because of a phone call at the airport. you brushed them off, trying to display your hurt of your relationship ending as anger that sakura broke up on text with you.

“i’m fine, seriously,” you choked out, tears welling up but still maintaining a smile. the other iz*one members, mainly eunbi, hyewon, yena, yuri and minju, just stared at you blankly.

“i’m actually going to fight her,” hyewon nodded her head in agreement to eunbi’s statement. “i trusted her, to take care of you. instead of talking it out, she decides to break up with you?”

“eunbi unnie, i don’t want to talk about her anymore, okay? can we play mario kart or something else instead?” you pleaded, the mere mention of sakura piercing your heart tenfold.

the members looked skeptic but your insistence made them all resign to a night of mario kart.

at first glance now, anyone would think that you had moved onto bigger and better things. a year had passed and you had just put out your third album, cupid. most of the songs were written by you at 3am, and heavily centred on one japanese. you knew that once word had gotten out about your muse, the iz*one group chat, excluding sakura, would blow up and your messages would be filled with worrisome questions.

not only that, you were currently at a music show, where lesserafim were also at, without a doubt. their debut was a smash hit in korea, fearless charting number 1 countless amounts of times and you couldn’t help but feel proud at chaewon’s improvement as a leader, yet bittersweet over seeing your ex-girlfriend.

you sighed as the makeup artist brushed your cheeks with blush.

“i hope you don’t get too choked up when you win,” she winked at you. you shook your head, chuckling, “i mean, lesserafim’s here, fearless might win.”

“i still think cupid’s better.”

“of course you do, i’m your favourite idol!” your makeup artist finished up and you were good to go. you felt your heart speed up at the thought of seeing sakura in the flesh and silently hoped that you wouldn’t have to stand too close to her.

you got back on stage and met eyes with wonyoung and yujin, both who had returned with love dive as ive and they sent you a reassuring smile.

“i think she’s here,” you said.

“oh,” yujin shrugged, “unnie, you should stand with us then, iz*one reunion? maybe even invite chaewon unnie to stand with us.”

“that’s so mean, yujinnie,” wonyoung sighed, exasperated. “well, she shouldn’t have gave such a dumb excuse to break up with our unnie—”

the mcs appeared on stage and began the show, you caught chaewon’s wave and hesitantly waved back, not before accidentally colliding with the person behind you. embarrassed, you turn around and instantly lit up.

“yuqi!” you whispered excitedly. the g-idle member grinned, “hi! look, i think you’re winning.” you turned to the big screen, truly, if the current votes add up, you would be leading. but between lesserafim and ive, anything could happen.

“and the winner is…” you held your breath, “y/n with ‘cupid’!” the ive members turned to you and you heard yuqi giggle behind you.

“good job, unnie!”

as your song played, groups started leaving the stage but g-idle remained behind since as a soloist, it was incredibly lonely standing up on stage when in iz*one, you had 12 other girls singing and dancing with you.

while minnie and shuhua started their own rendition of your song, you laughed cheerfully, but you couldn’t help but notice the lingering shadow by the stage.

miwayaki sakura, the one woman you had been avoiding the entire night, staring right at you.

it was like time froze. you remembered telling her that those kdramas were all so cliché with the love interests meeting. the same songs playing in the back as the background blurred.

but it felt true now.

‘good job,’ she mouthed. you were about to respond when yuqi pulled you back for the chorus and the grip on your wrist was noticed by sakura, who frowned and glared at your same aged friend.

after a stage of giggles and funny dance moves, you headed back to your waiting room, ready to take your makeup artist out for barbecue since she had guessed correctly on the winner. your stomach rumbled and you took out the coins you had stashed in your jacket’s pocket.

heading to the vending machine, you gasped seeing the prices. “ten thousand won for a bag of chips? that’s crazy,” you exclaimed but your hunger came first and it wasn’t as if you were broke.

as you bent down to reach for the bag, a voice startled you. “y/n.”

you whipped your head back, gaping.

“uh, hi.”

sakura’s face was blank and expressionless but through her eyes, you could tell that she was feeling extremely awkward.

“congrats, uhm, for the win.”

you nodded. “thanks. anything else? i need to go soon.”

the japanese clenched her fists and her voice came out pained, “are you dating anyone?”

you paled.

“what?”

sakura repeated, more grit in her voice, “are you dating song yuqi?”

suddenly, all anger rushed to your head. all the sleepless nights she made you experience, all the tears you let out in the shower, all the pain you had to endure. it made you frustrated.

“sakura, what’s the point of asking that?” you snapped, gripping the bag of chips tightly which was a rather comical sight.

your ex scrunched up her nose and you had to pretend it wasn’t cute. “does that mean you’re dating her?”

“no. but why does it matter?”

“because… you,” sakura groaned, “you can’t…”

eyes filled with fury, you retorted, “can’t what? can’t date other people after we broke up? am i not allowed to find other people when you were the one who broke up with me? over text?”

“y/n, i regret it,” sakura mumbled, “i regret all of it. please.”

“please what? what am i meant to do? you broke my heart, you asshole. what is this conversation meant to be about? what are you trying to do?”

your ex looked down, ashamed, but your heart broke even further at the tears spilling out of her eyes.

“i’m sorry. i thought, when we disbanded, that we would just break up because of the long distance and… i thought i was saving us from each other. i was wrong, i love you, please let me try again,” sakura explained, her voice hoarse.

you debated. was it worth it? all the heartbreak? for sakura? you had loved her for years, but were you ready to trust her again?

“i trusted you. i don’t anymore,” you started slowly, sakura’s eyes dimming at every word, “let’s start out as friends again, i think the members miss you at our reunion dinners.”

#miyawaki sakura x reader #sakura x reader #lesserafim x reader

358 notes · View notes

galexystern · 8 months

Text

call me

pairing; eddie munson/fem!reader

rating; t

warnings; dialogue-fic, swearing, pining, fluff, angst, dialogue-heavy fic, no use of y/n

word count; 8.5k

desc; you meet eddie just before he goes on tour. can you two survive the long-distance and his rising fame?

a/n; this is based on an idea i wanted to happen to me a couple days ago

read on ao3 / masterlist

Everything is going to (your very rushed, reorganized many times) plan when you get waylaid by merch.

It catches just the corner of your eye, and then it’s all you can think about. Of course you want a t-shirt from the tour, how could you forget that? You’d saved money especially for it.

So you divert your path and go to stand in front of the table. It’s not very busy, but there seem to be a lot of people manning it, six when you count. But only two are in the venue’s uniform, and the other four are in plain, rocker attire. You check your watch again—you’ve done it so many times today you almost don’t even register the numbers anymore—and realize it’s probably the opening act. They’ve almost certainly already played, since the main act must be coming on any minute. Your gaze darts over them—they’re cute, a little nerdy, but they look nice—before your anxiety reminds you how late it is and hones your stare in on the merch.

You’re taking up precious time debating when someone from behind the table calls out, “Hey! You need some help?”

You look down to meet the gaze of a boy about your age, with long, wavy black hair and eyes that look like your favorite kind of milk chocolate. He’s smiling, expectant, and you jerk when you realize you haven’t said anything back.

“Oh,” you rush to reply, “I’m just trying to decide between two shirts.”

“Which ones? Maybe we can help.” There’s a daring, mischievous look in his eye that makes you step forward and take up the challenge, despite never having done so before with anyone else.

“A and C.” You point to them.

All six people turn around to study them. A is a simple silver-on-black style of the band’s logo and the tour dates and cities on the back. C is a picture of the band from an album cover, also with the dates and cities on the back.

“Tough choice,” the metalhead—because he clearly is one, with his leather jacket, Dio denim vest, black skinny jeans, and chain belts—muses.

You hum and nod. “Hence the indecision.”

“I think I’ve seen more people buy the second one,” another boy from the opening band says, with red hair and an interesting distressed plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off.

“Maisie, crunch the numbers, please,” a third member requests, with a cropped afro and his own worn leather jacket.

A venue employee takes a look at her clipboard, and you all wait anxiously as she tallies the sales. “A has sold the most,” she finally says.

The last boy from the band, with curly hair and an Iron Maiden shirt you like, rubs the shoulder of the second boy, who seems oddly sad by his prediction being wrong. The first boy, the metalhead, turns back to you. “Well, there you go,” he says with a flourish.

“I guess A it is then,” you reply.

“Wait,” he interrupts, making everyone pause. “You don’t sound very happy about that.”

“What? It was one of the options I picked out.”

“Sure, but when it came down to it, you knew which one you wanted and that’s not it. Am I right?” He gazes at you, both cocky and nervous, if that’s possible.

You look back, wondering how he could tell, before answering, “You’re right.”

He claps his hands in triumph. “Knew it! Andy, will you please bag up shirt C for this lovely lady?”

You blush a little as the other venue employee glances at you. “Size?”

“Large, please.”

He nods and grabs the shirt, folding it nicely before putting it in a bag. “That it?” He’s set your shirt on the table by the register.

You nod but then the metalhead says, “Sure I can’t tempt you into buying one of our shirts?”

You look at the limited options for their band, apparently named Corroded Coffin. The style is cute and you like their logo, but like every other piece of merchandise at the table, it’s too expensive.

“Maybe if it was twenty dollars cheaper,” you joke as you give your hard-earned and specially saved cash to Andy. “Besides, I haven’t even heard y’all play. Can’t buy a shirt for a band I can’t sing along to.”

The metalhead’s brows furrow. “You didn’t hear us? We were pretty loud.”

You laugh. “I just got here. Today has been a shitshow.” Andy hands you your change and the bag.

“What happened?” This boy is asking like there’s not five other people around you and you’re not at a concert merch table, and you kinda like it.

“Work just kept going and going, every time I thought I’d get outta there at a decent time they kept adding things for me to do. And then the El stalled at one station for fifteen minutes, I was dying in the heat and humidity down there. Not to mention all the stairs I had to run up and down.” You’re rambling, but he’s nodding like he’s enraptured.

“Wow, that sucks. I’m sorry that happened.” His lip quirks up. “Though I’m more sorry you didn’t get to hear us play.”

You smile. “Do y’all have a record out? Maybe I can get it after my next paycheck.”

“Gareth,” he orders, and the plaid-vested boy hands him a record. The metalhead presents it to you. “Here. On the house.”

Your jaw drops a little. “What? I can’t take that.”

He laughs. “I think we’d all rather have more people hear our stuff than make money right now. Right, boys?” Gareth and the leather jacket boy nod, while Iron Maiden looks doubtful, until his band mates slap his shoulder and he nods too.

“Oh, well, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” You take the record from him and tuck it between your arms, cradling it like it’s precious.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he replies. “That’s Gareth, Grant, and Jeff.” They all wave and you smile. You’re not sure which is Grant and which is Jeff but you can learn. You give them your name as well. “Fitting,” Eddie says.

You cock your head in confusion.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He grins when your cheeks get redder.

“Thanks.” Your voice is barely there.

Then there’s a bunch of loud screaming and the starting of a rock song. You gasp. “I gotta go!”

You’re about to rush away when Eddie shouts, “Wait!” You stop and look back at him, face surely revealing your anxiety about getting inside. “Come with us,” he continues. You give him a suspicious expression, so he adds, “Backstage. You can watch from the best seat in the house. And you might be able to meet them.”

You gape at them for the second time in five minutes. “Are you serious?”

“Totally.” Eddie looks at his band, who all nod in agreement. “Come on.” They step out from the table and move towards a back door. You look at Andy and Maisie, clearly asking them if this is legit and you’re not about to be murdered, and they both smile and nod. Reassured, you run after the boys in a daze, entering a dark labyrinth of hallways.

“Which is it?” Eddie hisses.

“Third door,” someone answers, sounding annoyed, like they’ve had to do this many times today.

Eddie locates the right door and opens it, letting light spill into the corridor. You follow the boys through it and into the backstage area, which is much more normal and dirty than you’d expected. They lead you all the way to the wings of the stage, music getting louder with every step, until you’re looking right at the lead singer, bouncing around onstage. You stare in amazed shock, closer to your idols than you ever have been before.

“Pretty good, right?” Eddie murmurs from his spot beside you. You nod in disbelief.

It takes you until the end of the opening number to settle down, and then you’re engrossed in the music. You sing all the lyrics and dance to the beat, not a care in the world. This is better than your wildest dreams of how you thought tonight would pan out. Eddie stays next to you throughout the show, and you two sing and dance along together, having more fun than you thought possible. He’s adorable when he lets go, just enjoying himself, and your desire to kiss him grows as the night goes on.

You’re suddenly nervous when the band finishes before their encore, wondering if they’ll come to your side, but thankfully they go to the other one, and you don’t have to introduce yourself in the approximately two minutes before they go back on. But when the set’s really over, encore done, the band does head your way offstage. You stumble into Eddie, who grabs your upper arms so you don’t fall as the band members walk past you. You try not to stare like a crazy fan, but it’s a losing battle. At least none of them look at you.

When they’ve gone, you breathe deep. “Oh my god,” you whisper.

Eddie laughs in your ear, voice low and spine-tingling, and you realize you’re still in his space. You step forward, missing the warmth of his hands, and turn to him. He’s smiling like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Have fun?”

“Oh my god,” you repeat at a normal tone, and he laughs again.

“Let’s go meet them!”

“Oh my god!" You say for a third time and Eddie snorts.

“You might want to remember some more words by the time we get in there,” he suggests. You nod and he takes you out of the wings and to the green room. He turns around before opening the door. “Lemme just make sure they’re cool with it. Can’t have them yelling at you, sweetheart, when it’d be my fault.”

You blush while you nod, too much happening to wrap your head around. He disappears inside and you try to calm down, get your composure back before meeting your favorite band.

Then the door is opening, and it’s like slow-motion as Monochrome is revealed.

It’s a little anti-climatic, to be honest, as the members are sitting around in a small, ordinary room that’s not even green. But they are all looking at you in interest. You glance at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, and step inside gingerly. “Hi,” you squeak out, immediately clearing your throat before giving your name. “I’m a big fan.”

“Well, thank you for being a fan,” Connor, the lead singer and guitarist, says.

“And thanks for coming to the show,” Dan, the drummer, adds.

“I was really excited for it,” you reply.

Leon, the bassist, asks, “Did we play your favorite song? I love asking that question.”

You nod. “‘Rush’ is my favorite. I wasn’t sure you guys were gonna do it.”

Dan looks thoughtful. “It’s not one of our more popular tunes but we like it.” You smile at his smile.

“Obviously, me too,” you joke, and Dan laughs a little.

“You know, I wasn’t sure, so thanks for clearing that up,” he replies sarcastically, making you giggle.

The door closes loudly, startling everyone. You all look at Eddie, who seems sheepish enough. “Sorry,” he mutters, but there’s an edge to his tone that makes you think he doesn’t fully mean it.

“You want something to drink?” Dan asks.

“Oh, I don’t need anything.”

“Seriously, we’ve got plenty of stuff.” He stands and goes over to a mini-fridge tucked into a corner. He opens it and you see rows upon rows of cans, beer and seltzer and whatever else.

“Um, okay, maybe a beer?”

“PBR or Coors?”

You wrinkle your nose at the options, making everyone laugh. You redden as you answer, “PBR, I guess.”

“Lesser of two evils?” Leon teases. You nod while Dan grabs the can and opens it before handing it to you. You thank him and he winks.

“So how did you guys feel about the show?” Eddie asks, causing Dan to smoothly step away. You look at the metalhead and take a sip, noting his clenched jaw and balled fists. He seems to realize you’ve noticed and shoves his hands into his pockets.

You hide a smile against the lip of your can. Dan’s cute, and being a member of your favorite band gets him plenty of points, but he was never the one you had a crush on (that honor went to Leon) and he’s a bit too old for your liking. Eddie’s jealousy is flattering and entertaining, but ultimately unnecessary. He had you back when he read you like an open book about the shirt choices.

Connor smiles in response to Eddie’s question. “It was good. I think the crowd had a great time.”

“Shouldn’t we be asking our number one fan over here?” Dan says, turning to you with a playful smirk.

“It was amazing!” You gush, and the band chuckles. “You guys are so good live. You should do a live record.”

“Top secret,” Connor leans close and you look at him eagerly, “there’s one in the works.”

You squeal a little, beaming. “I can’t wait.”

“You’re cute, honey,” Dan says easily, with a grin that could make any other girl’s knees weak.

“Thanks!” You reply, trying to sound innocent and like there’s nothing to read into, because you definitely don’t want to read into it. You glance at Eddie, and thankfully he can still read your mind, because he walks over to you after seeing your slightly panicked expression.

“We should let them rest. I’ll escort you out.”

You’re nodding halfway through, and walking ahead of him to the door. He opens it for you and you turn around to say goodbye to the band, complimenting them again and setting your mostly full beer on a random surface. Dan has a lightly disgruntled face, but waves with the rest of the band. You let out a breath when the door closes behind you and Eddie.

He places a hand on your shoulder gently. “You okay?”

You look at him, nodding. “Thank you. I know it’s probably not normal behavior but…”

“No need to explain. I can see when a girl’s creeped out by a guy. Happened to me plenty of times.”

You hope he’s joking but it seems like he’s not. You frown. “That can’t be true.”

He walks you down the hallway. “Believe me, sweetheart, it’s true.”

“But you’re so cute and nice and thoughtful,” you exclaim, face heating at your words.

But Eddie just smiles kindly, his own cheeks dusted with pink. “Thanks. Things were just different in high school.”

You hum in understanding. “High school sucks and girls are bitches. I’d know, I was one.”

Eddie looks at you with skepticism. “You? A bitchy girl in high school? Doubt it.”

“I may not have been a mean girl cheerleader but I hurt my share of feelings.”

“Who hasn’t? It’s a wonder we made it out alive with all those raging hormones.”

You laugh. “We were in the trenches, for sure.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you two head back into the darkened maze of back corridors. “What are you doing now?” He asks.

“I’m in school. I go to U of I Chicago.”

He whistles lowly. “Impressive.”

“Whatever.” But you’re blushing again, and hoping the low light is hiding it. “What about you? Did you go to school?”

He snorts. “Nice of you to think that. It took me three tries to graduate high school. The guys and I tore outta there and came here to pursue what we loved.”

“That’s admirable. It’s also sweet that you've known each other so long. And it paid off.”

“Yeah.” He says it like he still can’t believe it, which is adorable. “This is our first tour. We can’t wait to get on the road.”

Disappointment settles in when you realize this is the first date of the tour, and the rest are around the country. All you can do is nod in response, not even caring if he can’t see it. He rushes ahead to open the last door, and you walk out to where it all began: the merch table, which is now empty.

“Well,” you say heavily, “thank you so much for all this. It was so nice of you to do that for a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger. I know your name and what school you go to. We’re friends now.”

You giggle. “You make it sound so ominous, like you’re gonna kill me later.”

“I’m not gonna kill you.” He looks horrified at the way it sounds like he absolutely is, making you laugh more. “Promise! I won’t!”

“I believe you, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. Then you’re staring at each other awkwardly.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Your mouth twists, not wanting to leave him yet.

“Yeah.” He sounds just as sad as you feel. “You think I could maybe get your number? Call you sometime?”

You brighten. “Yes! I’d love that.”

“Great! Here.” He pulls out a tiny notebook from his pocket, as well as a pen. He flips to a blank page and then gives it to you, and you write down your name, phone number, and a smiley face before handing it back. He glances down and grins at it. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You give him an abrupt hug—you two fit together just right—and then walk away backwards. When you’re at the top of the stairs, you make a “call me” gesture and smile when he nods eagerly. You watch him until he disappears from view.

You sigh happily. You can worry about the sadness of never hearing from him tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to replay the entire encounter and go to bed smiling.

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Eddie. From Corroded Coffin?"

"Oh my god, hi."

"You sound surprised."

"Well, I never thought you'd actually call me. You know, you're busy on tour and probably never get any time off. Plus, plenty of other fans to meet and woo."

"You're right, we are pretty busy and don't have much time off. But we're not being held hostage. Besides, all the fans weirdly just want to meet Monochrome. No idea why."

"That's bizarre. I always wanted to meet the opener and not the main act."

"Exactly, it's just not normal."

"But it's good otherwise?"

"Yeah! All our sets have been amazing. Speaking of which, have you listened to our record yet?"

"Yup, a couple times. I really like it."

"I knew you would. And we have another one coming out this Friday."

"No way! I'll have to go buy it after work that day."

"No need. If you'll tell me your address, I'll send you a free copy."

"You sure you don't want it just to murder me?"

"Scout's honor. Not sure how meaningful that is seeing as how I was not a boy scout, but all the same."

Laughing, you give him your dorm address.

"Thanks, sweetheart. We'll send it out ASAP."

"No rush, honestly. You're already being so kind by sending it for free."

"We'll charge the postage. Nah, we've got it covered. You only have to worry your pretty little self with listening to it."

"Promise I will. Thanks."

"No problem, princess."

"So where are y'all tonight?"

"Des Moines, Iowa."

"No wonder you called me. You were that bored."

"Honey, I've been wanting to call you since we met. Just had to work up the nerve. Wasn't sure if you'd remember me."

"Of course I remembered you. Haven't really stopped thinking about it, you know. You, I mean."

"That's really sweet, angel. Honestly, this tour would be a lot better if you were here. Living with six other boys is not a fun time, let me tell you. I thought I was messy, but I've got nothing on these guys."

"Maybe you can steal some stuff and sell it as payback."

"That's not a bad idea. Anyways, what are you doing?"

"Studying."

"Gross. I'm sorry."

"Ha ha. It's not too bad. Authors just put too much meaning into their books. I can't remember all of it."

"You've got this, sweetheart. If you can remember all of Monochrome's lyrics, you can remember this."

"But I like the lyrics a lot more than this."

"Lemme just go ask if they can write a song about whatever you need to memorize. That way it'll be both. I'm sure Dan would be on board."

"Are you jealous, Eddie...I just realized I don't know your last name."

"It's Munson. And no, I'm not jealous."

"Good. You don't need to be."

"That's good to know."

"I'm sure it is."

"Well, I gotta go, pretty girl. Can I call again sometime?"

"Yeah, you can call anytime."

"Okay, great, I will. Not at all hours of the night, but a normal time. And we can talk if you're free."

"That sounds good."

"Okay. I guess...good night then."

"G'night, Eddie."

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, angel."

"Hi, Eddie!"

"How are you?"

"I'm good. I got your package! Thank you for both the record and the shirt, I wasn't expecting it."

"No problem, sweetheart. How'd you like it?"

"It's so good. Been listening to it nonstop."

"Aw, thanks. We're proud of that one."

"You should be! Are you selling it with the other merch?"

"Yeah, we just got the copies yesterday and started selling them tonight. They didn't sell out but we sold some."

"That's good. Maybe you can tell them I think it's really good."

"'Hey, everyone, this girl I really like loves our new single so you should buy it too'?"

"Yeah, exactly. And I'll tell all my friends, 'Hey, a band with this boy I really like came out with a great single, listen to it'."

"Perfect, we'll make up a sign and everything."

"As you should. What city are you in now?"

"Phoenix, Arizona. It's hot as shit down here."

"I don't think I fully understand the tour map. What's next?"

"I think Las Vegas."

"Maybe y'all can detour and see the Grand Canyon on the way there."

"That'd be fun. I've never been out west before this trip."

"Me either. Send me some postcards."

"Maybe on our next tour you can come with and see them for yourself."

"Already planning the second tour, are we?"

"Nowhere to go but up, sweetheart."

"If you headline the next tour, who would you choose as opener?"

"I don't know, that's a good question. There's a couple bands we've played with in Chicago that would be options. I think we'd like it to be a local group."

"That'd be really sweet. Though maybe it could be not all guys this time?"

"Ugh, yes! I didn't know this was possible, but it's gotten worse here. Our bus smells like dirty socks and no one seems to mind or notice."

"Gross. I'm kinda glad I'm not on this tour with you."

"We'll have candles and air freshener ready for the next one."

"Think the candles might be a fire hazard, but it's a nice idea."

"Someone needs to have it."

"You having fun otherwise?"

"Yeah, we've been writing a lot while on the road. Come up with a couple new songs, stuff for our first album. We'll probably polish and record it when the tour's over."

"That's so exciting. Can't wait to hear it."

"Of course, you'll hear it before it comes out, so it'll be a little rough."

"Doesn't matter to me, just wanna hear it."

"You will, pretty girl. First one outside the band."

"What about your friends?"

"You think I'm gonna let those twerps hear the unfinished stuff so they can make fun of it? Nah, they'll get the finished product."

"That'd be mean of them."

"It's be good-natured but all the same. I don't wanna hear it. I only trust your critiques."

"What about like, producers and such?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll listen to them too."

"Probably a good idea."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Alright. What have you been up to?"

"Just school and work. It's definitely getting colder up here. All the leaves are changing and you can crunch them when you walk. And I'm excited to watch Halloween movies."

"Oh, man, I love scary movies. What's your favorite?"

"Probably The Shining. Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall are so good in it."

"A+ choice, honey. Mine's Poltergeist."

"Ooh, that freaked me out when I saw it. Haven't rewatched it since."

"Aw. Maybe we can watch it together. That way you can cower behind me if you want."

"I'd love that, as long as you don't laugh at me."

"I'd never laugh at you, angel."

"Good. You're not allowed."

"Oh, is that a new law?"

"Yes, they just passed it. The 'Can't Laugh at the Girl You Like' Act."

"Fitting name. Could be shorter."

"Well, I could've used my name but then it wouldn't apply to everyone and it really should."

"I'll be sure to let everyone know about the new amendment."

"Please do. We need to get the word out."

"Gotta go, princess. The boys wanna talk about a new song. Jeff says he has this amazing idea."

"Okay, let me know if it's any good. Call me later, handsome."

"I will, pretty girl."

;

"Eddie?"

"Hi, angel. Sorry I didn't call yesterday. We were up all night designing the cover for our album and we were dead on our feet all day. I crashed right after the show, didn't even watch Monochrome's set."

"No worries. Guess what?"

"What?"

"I got A's on all my finals!"

"Wow, congrats, honey! Knew you would."

"You always say that, but you can't see the future, Eds."

"Maybe not, but I know you're good at what you do."

"Just like you. I hear the new single is selling out everywhere."

"Yeah! Ever since they played 'Think About You' on the radio, they're going like hotcakes. And audiences seem to know the lyrics to it, they sing along when we play it."

"That's awesome. It has to sound so good onstage."

"It does. Is this what famous bands hear all the time? Because I get why they'd be into it."

"Don't forget us little people when you skyrocket to the top of the charts."

"I couldn't forget you, sweetheart."

"Good, because there was another law passed about it. The 'Don't Forget Where You Came From' bill."

"Is that right? It's a good thing I have a good memory."

"Very, otherwise you'd be arrested in no time."

"What are you doing, angel?"

"Finally just relaxing. I'm going to be chill all break, I swore that to myself."

"You deserve it. You've worked so hard all semester."

"Thank you. Though I wish I could see you."

"Me too. This tour feels like it's going on forever. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing and I love it, but it's kind of a lot. I wish I could just be there and take you to the movies or something."

"That'd be nice. Would that be our first date?"

"Nah, our first date was the concert. This would be our second."

"I see. Where are you, anyways?"

"Dallas."

"Wow, y'all really went north and then immediately back down south?"

"I guess so."

"I'm not sure whoever put this schedule together knew what they were doing. Like how—"

"Hey, angel, I'm sorry but I gotta go. The boys are demanding we go out to celebrate and refusing to leave without me."

"Oh, okay. Well, have a drink on me, I'm proud of y'all."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Eds."

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, princess."

"Eddie? Are you okay? I haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks."

"Yeah, I know, we're fine. Everything's just been crazy since our single blew up. Now paparazzi are following us too and fans keep mobbing us at the merch table. We're thinking about just not doing that anymore."

"Wow, that's...cool. As long as y'all are safe."

"We are. Monochrome got more security for us now. I think they're a little upset we're getting so popular."

"Well, it is their tour, after all."

"Right, but we can't help it, you know? People like our stuff."

"Mhm."

"What are you doing?"

"Break ends in a week so I'm just getting everything ready for the spring semester. Also planning my birthday."

"Your birthday? When is it?"

"February 14th."

"Aw, you're a Valentine's baby?"

"Yeah, and I've never had a crush during it so I'm excited for this year."

"I'll be sure to call you, honey."

"Good. Um, are you gonna be calling less now? So I know."

"Possibly, not sure yet. It's a whirlwind over here."

"I bet. I'd just like to know so I don't plan for the calls anymore."

"I'll let you know ASAP, sweetheart."

"Thanks. So where are y'all?"

"Philly. We play New York tomorrow!"

"That's exciting."

"We've been waiting for it all trip. The set is gonna be electric."

"I hope so. Uh, Eddie?"

"One second, babe."

"Okay."

"Sorry about that. What's up?"

"Do you know what date you'll be back in Chicago?"

"I don't exactly know. Lemme get back to you on that too."

"Alright."

"Sorry to cut this short, doll, but I gotta run. Call you later."

"Bye—“

;

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby."

"Oh, hi, Eddie."

"How you doing?"

"Fine. How's the tour?"

"Amazing. Everyone loves us. We get mobbed just going to our hotel now. It's wild."

"Wow, that's crazy."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"Boston."

"That's fun. I love Boston."

"Yeah, it's cool. Don't have much time for sightseeing."

"Ah."

"What are you up to?"

"School's been crazy, we just went in running apparently."

"Damn."

"Still planning my birthday. I'm gonna host a party, I think."

"That sucks."

"What?"

"Sorry, honey. That was directed at Grant. Birthday party, sounds fun."

"Yeah, you're still gonna call, right? Talk to my friends? They think I'm crazy and like, lying whenever I talk about you."

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll do that."

"Okay. You sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry."

"Alright."

"Gotta go, babe. See you."

"Okay—“

;

"Hello."

"Angel!"

"Eddie."

"Yeah, it's me!"

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little. But how are you?"

"What?"

"I asked how you were!"

"You wanna know how I am, Eddie?"

"Uh, yeah, that's why I asked."

"Okay, here's how I am: You missed my birthday."

"No, I didn't! I'm calling you now!"

"It's 3am on February 15th, Eddie. My birthday is over."

"It's close enough!"

"You had a full twenty-four hours in which you could call me and you couldn't manage it. So no, it's not close enough."

"Wait, are you upset?"

"No, I'm just peachy."

"Good—"

"Of course I'm upset, Eddie!"

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Uh..."

"Look, I know we're not dating or anything, and you don't owe me anything. But I was so excited for you to call. I told all my friends they'd be able to talk to you and then you stood me up. You know how embarrassing that is? On both your birthday and Valentine's Day and in front of all your friends who don't believe you? They gave me pitying looks all night. I couldn't bear it."

"I'm sorry—“

"Yeah, right. I really liked you, too."

"I like you too—“

"Oh, give it up, Eddie. I know Corroded Coffin is huge now because of your big single. All the magazines can talk about is when you're coming out with your debut album. You're bigger than little old me now, and I get it. I just feel like a fool for thinking this could be different."

"It is! It is different!"

"Is it? Tell me how."

"..."

"This is how I see it. You liked me when we were on the same level. You called me every other day because you thought you couldn't do better. And now, with your song at the top of the charts and people mobbing you all the time, you've realized you can do way better than me. Pretty, skinny blondies are throwing themselves at your feet now, right? Girls with perfect teeth and perfect skin and perfect bodies and perfectly plastic personalities, and you have your pick of the litter. So you stop calling me so you can hang out with them instead."

"No! Well, kinda—"

"That's what I thought. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I...I miss you."

"Eddie, do me a favor."

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me again."

;