#basically the album and the songs are great. unfortunately what's outside of it gave it some bad fame

[brltpop]

Lads, gents and others.... i get it. I understand the -very valid- resentment that paramore's self titled album holds, but i think you're taking it waaaay too far by saying it's the worst paramore album made so far.

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question. 

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left. 

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then. 

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting. 

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.” 

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes. 

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.” 

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.” 

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow. 

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.” 

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away. 

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about. 

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?” 

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin. 

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name. 

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you. 

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

————

a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

@mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking @mysteris-things @amazingori @honey-eyed-munson @saintlike78 @eddieslooneymoonie @alexa4040 @yujyujj

[here4theheartbreak]

The photocards! SanSang!!! Adorable!!! I also really like the Hwa/Mingi one!

Omg the random albums really gave you the full Woosan experience! Sannie with the hearts stuck on his cheeks~ 🥺💕 Also, Mingi looks absolutely incredible this era?? There's something about him! Massive main character energy.

I think you made the right decision! With the amount of pcs available per album, you'd have to get a filing cabinet to store them all! 😭😂

Ohhh, that lot of albums sounds amazing! That's how I got most of my Vixx albums, all in a big bundle! It's great that you have a little network of people wanting albums though, it'd be such a shame for the duplicates to just be sitting around if someone wants/needs them.

I also bought the fan kit! We have SOOOO many tarot cards in this house. 😅 I recently got a cool Korean holographic deck! It's really beautiful~

I've also noticed that about buying straight from KR! The price is usually about the same. And things definitely arrive much faster! I honestly love the Korean postal system. When I mailed a postcard home, it literally arrived the next day. I was amazed.

You were caught ugly crying at a concert by a member of OOO? I salute you. Not many could survive it. 😂

It truly was a shame about Yongguk. Because I'm sure he'd have absolutely no problems interacting with male fans. It's just an example of him being shortsighted, I suppose. He's just gone with what he sees / what he expects. And it's very unfortunate.

That's so true. If someone is absolutely spotless and never puts a foot wrong, then it's kinda strange. If they're eternally, faultlessly good... it feels odd. Like how lawyered up are you, and how deep have you buried the bodies??? Humans make errors. People have bad days. Moods change. It's hard to be ON all the time. It's fine. It's normal. As long as it's nothing malicious or purposefully hurtful, I can understand.

I ALWAYS think this. Particularly about K-pop and gaming. It's grown adults, with regular incomes, who are buying merch and albums, and paying stupid prices for tickets. Plus, going to a concert is an EXPENSIVE experience if you live outside of the city the show is at?? Every K-pop concert I go to costs me around £450-£550 (average of £120 per ticket, £100 travel costs, £160 hotel, £50 for food and drink) + whatever I decide to spend on merch. I spent £160 on Ateez merch in February! Kids are simply NOT affording it.

Oh, Pungja? I love her, she's so funny and her humour is so direct! I really liked the interview she did with Mingi and Hongjoong during Halazia era too. That was around the same time (same week?) we got that WooSanHwa Lucky Oppa episode! (I watched it again yesterday) I really loooove how they all interacted with Hoyoung — especially Woo, he was so excited. It was truly a great week for Ateez interviews and queer interactions in general. And, you're right, there is an honest comfort in their engagement that's GREAT to see. It just doesn't seem to matter, which is obviously how it should be.

I loveeeee San's thanxx rainbow ear!!! 🌈 I really liked thanxx as a whole, I understand that it was a hard time with the whole CA situation. But the song is so good!

Omg. There were SO many quote contenders for my little ateez tattoo. But most of them were a bit sad, even though they're very meaningful to me?? So I just went with the straightforward but hopeful '너와 나의 promise'. But I was SO CLOSE to choosing Joong's whole verse from Halazia... because it's basically (read: exactly) how I feel about my whole health journey these past few years. And there was also 'I shine on my own [people will call that a star]' which is really beautiful... but also kind of lonely in a way?? And then I was like maybe 'just keep it up' because it's so encouraging and Sunrise is a GREAT concert song. But Promise always cheers me up. Although, I did also seriously consider '별처럼 빛나' and I still might get that one because '별' is one of my favourite Korean words. And '처럼' and '빛' are two of my favourite Korean words to say. But I think I'd like to get something more conceptual/visual. Who knows. You'll definitely have to let me know what you decide to get, if you decide! 😊

I really liked neon green Yeosang! But I do prefer his natural hair, especially when it's a bit longer. He looks like an actual fairytale prince. Still, I was a big fan of highlighter green Yeosang! The black stripes have me less enthusiastic BUT I respect his scene kid journey! 😂 He definitely knows that rawr means 'i love you' in dinosaur. Ahhhh. May our lord and saviour (Gerard Way) protect our sweet xXxY3oS4ng13xXx from harm.

San looks stunning with the red hair! Literally, red is SO HARD for idols to pull off. Wooyoung was another GORGEOUS red.

So many more hair things have happened. They change their colours way too fast!

Also, helllllllo, Ateez Cosmopolitan Mingi with the stomach reveal?? It seems like he really wants to show us that area lately. You do you, King. You show 'em what you've got, princess~! 💖

Mingi looks so good this era, I absolutely love the style they put him in. I didn’t love the short cropped when it was blonde, but now that it’s gotten a bit longer it looks amazing (and it looked great with the pink).

And yes, in regards to pcs - I have limited space 🤣I collect pcs for 7-ish groups (only SHINee and Ateez are ‘every album must have a pc’ type collections - the other 5 are more “if they’re cute I will get them” lol) - so far I’ve been displaying them in these little polaroid mini things so I can flip through them easily - but I’m running out of room 😭 I’m probably going to need to get a third one V_V

The album lot arrived last week, it was so much more than I had anticipated! She also sent along '22 Season’s Greetings which I did not at all expect, and the special edition of All to Action which I uh… Wasn’t aware even existed until my friend lost her shit when I showed her the spread 😂 (And I got one of San’s autographed albums 🥲 - not from the same seller but they arrived the same day so I was absolutely chuffed - I need Wooyoung still but am waiting a bit for a good deal).

In all there were 11 duplicates because of some that I already owned. I wasn’t planning on collecting every version of each album, but I mean… She already did 90% of the work for me so 😂 - I actually have a shop online where I resell kpop merch like albums and pcs so it works out; new inventory for my shop, I'll be able to recoup a good half of the money I spent on it I figure.

But, at least until another group I like as a comeback, and until I get the last 2 albums I’m missing (yellow and blue versions of Movement are all that I’m missing V_V - they’re on the way though) - this is what my kpop center looks like overall … I’m out of room.

Oh my God I LOVE that tarot deck! That is so gorgeous!! Where did you get it?? My favorite deck that I own is my Black Deck; I love darker, more eerie decks - but I also love fandom decks; I have a Nightmare Before Xmas one on the way and am eyeing a Star Trek one as well. (And am lamenting the fact that no one has made an American Horror Story deck? Like come on people.)

And yeah, I expect mistakes from people. I’m not delusional, I know my idols and favorite celebrities are human and sometimes humans just don’t want to deal with shit or say things without thinking. It’s just how we are as a species. The problem is when it is repetitive, malicious, or shows willful ignorance or hostility (i.e. sexism, racism, etc) that is not due to ignorance. And right??? I love the stereotype of fans of these things, kpop, video gamers, etc - being 12-14 year old children - like, do people realize the amount of money that it takes to be a fan in the way they are imagining? Obviously I don’t think you need to buy everything or do everything to be a fan - that’s ridiculous - but when these people who mock kpop are mocking fans, they’re mocking ones that have every version of the albums, collect the pcs, go to the concerts, travel to KR to go to fan signs, etc — do they realize what that all costs??? I freely admit that I have a good probably 2k-4k usd worth of merch and albums sitting on my shelf or up on my walls or in binders rn (whether or not I paid that, someone did) and that’s not near as much as it used to be when I collected for BTS, plus a good 500usd or so sitting in a box for resale. A child isn’t going to do that. A child isn’t going to be able to do that, and I know almost zero parents that would be willing to do that for their child - kids are expensive enough as it is 😂 - I fund my son’s hyperfixation (dinosaurs/the Jurassic series) and that’s bad enough. Tickets/concerts are so expensive, you are right! Between the cost of the ticket (which is so much more if the group is popular and if you want seats close or the extras like hi-touch an such). And then travel, hotel, food — and for me personally, even if it’s the rare one in my city (I’ve been lucky enough to see A.C.E and OnlyOneOf here in Minnesota) - most of the time tho I have to travel to Chicago or New York). I still have to pay for a sitter - which isn’t as bad as a hotel but still not cheap — and a kid isn’t going to be driving, so either their parents are footing the gas bill or they’re taking a rideshare, so… Yeah no. (Not to mention some cities here in the US have age curfews - which means parents are gonna need to spend money on an extra ticket to go just so their kid can go.)

Yes! Her. She’s a hoot. I saw she did an interview with those two, I haven’t watched it yet though. I haven’t seen Lucky Oppa either! I will have to go look it up. I’ve never heard of it! I agree as well, that it doesn’t matter - which is what I think is important. I don’t want the community being treated differently in a bad way OR a good way, you know? I just want all of us treated like humans. If you’d treat a cishet host a certain way, then treat the queer host the same way.

And yesss - I swear so many of their lyrics are so deep and meaningful. I feel like a lot of their lyrics are really impactful and speak to me — which ofc is what most fans think, that’s the sign of a good song lol - but you get it. I really like lyrics from Utopia and Aurora (actually Aurora would be really fun to play with as a sort of watercolor night sky looking tattoo but idk). I also really love Better and One Day at a Time - they’re so simple but meaningful. And an odd one that I like but not probably for why you’d think is Good Lil’ Boy - as a transmasc preson there’s parts of it that just resonate for me. I’m sure that I’m sure wasn’t the original intention but 🤷🏻‍♂️ - also parts of Say My Name and Thanxx for a similar reason.

There’s a shop that I found, they did my Doodle tattoo (which was also my first pride tattoo without planning for it; I told her that they could play with the colors of it and she realized it was the perfect # of letters to use for pride colors lol. I love this shop though; it only hires queer, disabled, female identifying, or poc artists. The owner is an enby artist who specializes in top surgery/scar coverups — I want to go to them when I finally decide on what I want for my top surgery scar tattoo. But there’s one artist there that does amazing watercolor - I really would like to have her do sth. But I’m sure I’ll figure something out; maybe I’ll get it for my birthday next year, I try to get one a year when money allows.

The way I snorted over “xXxY3oS4ng13xXx” - because I definitely had a username similar and so did my friend - the nostalgia this kid is giving me rn 😂 - that’s why I don’t like it, it’s giving me clique war flashbacks 🤣🤣🤣🤣(speaking of nostalgia tho - the 2022 Season’s Greetings that I got from that seller - talk about making me feel old jfc - the fact that these trends are retro for these GenZ kids V_V please. They were cute, but I also wanted to hide under a rock seeing some of them).

And yes oh my GOD Wooyoung’s red hair was amazing. It caught my attention right away. I can count on one hand the number of idols that have been able to pull of that neon red and honestly 1/2 of them are Ateez members 😂 - tho some of them really are just super well suited to fantasy colored hair. Like Joong looks amazing in various unnatural colors imo; my least favorite styles of his are when he’s just with his natural hair 😅

The COSMO OH MY GOD I DIED. The way I immediately went to my budget and wiggled stuff around to pre-order a couple of those, it was embarrassing. (I was gonna get all 9 but even I realized it was a bit silly to get 9 copies of the same magazine just for the covers… Despite my desperate want for them.) If I had an easy way to display all of them I would’ve, but alas, my walls are already almost entirely full so, I limited myself to WooSan and ot8. Mingi tho - absolutely killer. And Yunho??? I swear, that man goes totally off my radar for periods then BAM - there he is.

Also, I was watching some shorts and this video came up and I just… Wooyoung is so tiny he looks like a little boy V_V — and I know he’s not really all that small (tho tbf compared to my barely 5ft ass EVERYONE is tall) - but he looks so little next to him and the expression he’s making 😩 My heart.

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[dropofgoldensun]

omg hiiiii i am here from cat (@luvdsc) wondering if you could offer any advice about college apps 🙏 especially about the uc piqs? thank you so much i hope ur doing well!!!!!!!!

yes yes hello friend !! 💝 miss cat directed you to me because i did my college apps last year !!! (yikes one year passed already?? why does that feel ages ago 🤧)

first of all, congratulations on making the decision to apply to college !! i know it’s been hard for a lot of people our age to figure out the college situation recently, so i’m proud of you for choosing to take the extra step this summer to buckle up and write those essays 💞

i’ve compiled a few tips on answering the PIQs (i was actually in the middle of typing this up when i received your ask haha), but some of them can be applied to other essays, as well !! they’re all under the cut (because, unfortunately, being brief is not my forte) 😊

(and for reference, the prompts i chose were #2 (creativity), #6 (subject), #7 (community), and #8 (anything) !!)

tip #1: understand the prompt.

before you even begin writing, it’s important to understand what the question is really asking. for the UC PIQs, this will look different depending on which four prompts you decide to do.

in question one, for example, they want to know about your skills in leading others, but notice that they’re also curious about your resolution abilities and teamwork experience. or in question two, they don’t want to know that you paint and that you love painting—they could be asking how resourceful you are, how you think outside the box when you have an idea.

once you know the question you’re going to be answering, you can move on to brainstorming!

tip #2: write down three (3) key takeaways.

these are like the most basic, not-even-a-sentence answers you would give to each question. so for me, in response to question eight (“what do you believe makes you stand out as a strong candidate for the UCs?”), my answers were perseverance, courage, and character. i had a story about that, so i wrote about my experience with martial arts.

i recommend you do something similar. decide on three things that you want to communicate to your audience, and write them in the footnote of your document. your goal is to cover all three points so that, if anyone were to read your essay, they would walk away understanding those three things about you.

i found this strategy really helpful for keeping my essay streamlined while writing—if a sentence didn’t relate to any of those main points, i would cut it since those words would take up valuable space in the word count. stay focused on what needs to be in this essay, and if you have extra words left in the word count later, you can add those details back in.

and once you’re done with your essay, make sure to refer back to your takeaways and check that you covered all of them sufficiently!

tip #3: highlight your stories.

i sent cat an ask a couple days ago with a few pictures of my response to an end-of-year college counseling survey that referenced this tip (you can find it here). basically i said that, when choosing what topics to write about, pick things that interest you! if you get excited talking about it, your audience should get excited about reading it, because they’ll pick up on the passions you have and then everyone’s excited !!! :D

i’ll tell you a secret: everyone you meet, everyone you see, has countless unique experiences that few others may have. me? i spend hours making mashups out of kpop songs. i earned my black belt years after a traumatizing experience during training. i get russian harry potter and spanish dr. seuss books from the library. and i created a collaborative online google photos album for my classmates that now has thousands of entries. although these aren’t necessarily unique to only me, they’re still special enough to the point where, when you put them all together, you get a better image of the person i am, and what i value.

so find a story, a habit, a hobby that makes you different, because i believe that everyone has them. give them some food for thought, or that one-liner that sticks in their brain and won’t go away. and remember: these stories don’t all have to be extraordinary—they should be about people or moments of special value to you, because that’s what matters.

personal tip: when i was brainstorming ideas, i decided that the best way to get ideas out there was to go on a rant (because sometimes it helps to just have a conversation with yourself !!) and i recorded myself, so i could replay what i said !! this was so so crucial to me finding my own voice for writing essays. notice the way you word things when you talk—a good line or two may make it into the final draft :)

i found it helpful to read sample essays as well! they give a lot of great ideas on the kinds of topics people write about. (also, it’s kind of fun, because who doesn’t love a good story?)

but the people reading your essay won’t be there to just enjoy your story; what they really want you to do is to tell them what you learned from your experience. they want to know whether you’re teachable and willing to grow both as a student and as a young adult. so make sure to take note of the life lessons you learned, experience you gained, character you built, etc.

minor tip on ending your essay: if you’re telling a story that happened in the past, then close with what you learned and how you can apply that to your life moving forward. if you’re telling a story that has no definite end yet (like a passion or dream you have), you probably don’t have everything figured out (and you can say that in your essay!), so it might be better to close with your hopes for the future.

tip #4: ask your family for help.

peer-editing is one of the most effective ways to detect errors and inconsistencies in your writing, because, after staring at your essay for so long, you might gloss over glaring contradictions. for all of my essays, i printed them out and asked my parents to help me revise them. we’d meet every other night (or every night, depending on how much time was left) to review and discuss improvements.

i actually kept some of those printed drafts (only the first and the final ones for comparison), and let me tell you from experience—you’re probably going to have a lot of drafts (i think the most i did was seven? but you don’t need to go that far!). this part of the process does take some time, so remember to be patient and kind to yourself :) these essays won’t happen overnight!

enlisting the help of others also helps keep you accountable. one of the struggles many seniors face while writing essays is just... setting aside time to do them. and even though the constant reminders from your parents will definitely get repetitive and a bit stress-inducing, i can tell you from personal experience that i’m so glad they did; otherwise, i don’t think i’d have my essays done in time :’)

while writing college essays is challenging, your family will be there supporting you each step of the way. chances are that they’ll have their own pointers to pass on to you, since they probably remember doing this process themselves! and, out of everyone in your life, they probably remember the most about you (because you probably don’t remember much when you were four or five), so they might have a couple starter ideas for topics when brainstorming. you can rely on them for their advice and their experience.

tip #5: self-editing.

here’s the part that takes the longest time.

use action words. this is probably something you’ve heard all throughout elementary school where they didn’t like you to say “said” because it was “boring”… but honestly, the difference between “doing my own version” and “infusing it with my personality” could go a long way. also, use words that you would actually use in an essay—then it’ll have your own special flair, and not sound like it’s taken from some stuffy 80s textbook!

here are some of the words i used (once again, you shouldn’t use these words if they don’t sound like something you’d write/say): potential, overlay, wrestle, launch, analogous, weave, infuse, experiment, outlet, revel, fascinate, satisfaction, pursue, expand, distinction, capture, range, archive, engage, beyond, build, adversity, cultivate, preserve, commit, explore, convey, naturally

also, be on the lookout for repeated words. i once wrote an essay without noticing that i used “hope” three times in the same paragraph. don’t do that! use synonyms :) personally, i tended to run short on synonyms, so i always kept a tab or two open on my computer reserved for searching up new words.

side note: unfortunately, during my search for synonyms, i discovered that thesaurus.com just didn’t give me what i was looking for. i highly recommend using wordhippo instead; it has so many more options and they’re grouped by the different definitions of your word! i found the synonyms i needed really quickly and it was very satisfying!

avoid the passive voice! my teacher gave me this tip for theses or any other college-level writing. here’s an example of the passive voice: “there was a large part of me that wanted to turn back.” that’s twelve words taking up precious space in your word count! instead, say something like, “i considered turning back.” you’ve just freed up eight words :)

tip #6: final revisions.

this is the step where you fine-tune your essays. meet that word count.

read your writing out loud. does it sound like you? it should. every writer has a different voice, and you need to ensure that yours is pervasive throughout your essay. feel free to use contractions—not only do they reduce your word count (this was a good thing for me, since i had a problem with getting under 350 words), but they also give a more casual tone to your essay, as if you’re telling a story to someone in the room.

next, pretend to be an admissions officer and have someone else read your essay to you. do you get excited hearing about this student who shares your name? if you do, there’s a good chance the real admissions officers will love your essays, too. this also gives you a chance to review to your essay as a whole. pay attention to the overall flow. is there a clear beginning and end? do you resolve the issues and overcome the trials you brought up? listen to it as if it’s a story, and take this time to enjoy what you’ve written. you worked hard!

final thoughts / encouragements.

oh my goodness, did we make it to the end? honestly if you did, thank you so much 🥺

okay but despite my relatively optimistic tone throughout this post, i’m still going to be honest with you—the college essay writing process is difficult. it requires you to look inside yourself and analyze the “why” behind some of the things that you love, and that isn’t easy to do at all. it’s intellectually and emotionally challenging, because not only do you need to use so much energy writing, but you also have to dig deeper to understand yourself, and that’s not easy, either.

but i wanted to encourage you, too. no matter what you may think of yourself at 12am, 2am, 4am writing these essays, believe you have a personality that others love and will love when they meet you. you are an interesting person with unique experiences who deserves to share your thoughts with others. you have so many people behind you, supporting you during these next few months. and when you find that you can’t write any more, remember to take time to care for yourself. have a warm shower. go to bed early. i could go on and on about why sleep is good for your brain but i’ll spare you the details in this post 😉

one last thing: keep the bigger picture in focus. remember, by december or january, you will be finished with most of the application process. that’s no small accomplishment. you can do it. 💝

i really hope you found tips that you were looking for, and that they’re applicable to your own PIQs and other essays !! if you have any other questions, feel free to send in another ask (i promise my response won’t be this lengthy LOL) 💘💓

oh, and if you feel comfortable enough reaching out about anything in particular, i’m only a DM away 💕 i wish you the best of luck on writing your essays and i hope you enjoy your final year of high school !! 💗🌸💟💖

[passionate-reply]

Have you and Telex met somewhere before? If not, you may want to make their acquaintance. This delightfully irreverent Belgian electro-disco trio came in next to last at 1980′s Eurovision Song Contest. And then they did an album featuring English lyrics by Sparks’ Ron and Russel Mael! Find out all about what makes this record tick, in this week’s installment of Great Albums. Full transcript below the break...

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! It’s time to break outside the Anglosphere, and take a look at one of the finest synth-pop acts to come from Belgium: the irreverent post-disco trio of Telex. Telex were, in fact, so European that they were sent to that most European of institutions, the Eurovision Song Contest, in the year 1980, in what was perhaps their finest hour in the spotlight.

Music: “Eurovision”

While many contemporary listeners may find “Eurovision” amusing, it actually didn’t go over well in the contest itself, and Telex managed to place second to last on behalf of the Belgian people, losing even the (arguably) more illustrious last place to Finland. It was one of the earliest true “joke entries,” so perhaps the masses weren’t ready for this approach yet. Despite its generally upbeat sound, I think the lyrics of “Eurovision” come across as really quite harsh--and the song’s availability in both English and French meant that plenty of people understood them. Mocking the financial instability of Italy and, apparently, anyone dumb enough to tune into Eurovision, there’s really a rather condescending, perhaps even cruel, sensibility about it. A conspicuous reference to the Berlin Wall, a symbol of some of Europe’s deepest divisions and greatest political turmoil, gives it an extra nudge towards feeling rather contextually inappropriate. Telex’s “Eurovision” might just be the most cynical or anti-European song ever entered...at least up until Hatari of Iceland gave us the thunderous industrial anthem “Hatrið Mun Sigra,” in 2019.

Telex’s follow-up to this “incident” is, in my opinion, where their career starts to really get interesting. While it isn’t that heavily advertised, 1981’s Sex was actually something of a collaboration album, featuring English-language lyrics on all tracks which were contributed by Ron and Russell Mael of Sparks. Given the recent resurgence of interest in Sparks spurred by Edgar Wright’s documentary on them, I figure now is as good a time as ever to revisit this somewhat lesser-known work in the Sparks catalogue--or, at least, with one foot in the Sparks catalogue.

In my opinion, Sex takes the better aspects of both of these groups and combines them into something that feels like more than the sum of its parts. Telex’s soft, yet sprightly synth arrangements have as much fun and flair as those of fellow Sparks collaborator Giorgio Moroder, and feel more substantive and organic than Sparks’ many attempts to play with various genres in which they remained outsider dilettantes. Likewise, the Mael brothers’ lyricism is a major improvement to the often clunky English offered by previous efforts by the Belgians. Recontextualized amidst a sea of dreamy Euro-pop, and delivered by Telex’s suave yet unassuming vocalist Michel Moers, the same style of lyricism that often makes Sparks feel crass and overwrought to me becomes transmuted into something I’m much more amenable to. Much like Devo, I’ve often found the “smartest guys in the room” vibe of Sparks a bit off-putting, but Sex has a certain subtlety or ambiguity about it, that keeps me coming back and pondering it.

Music: “Dummy”

The feel-good, squelching bass grooves of “Dummy” recall the most affable work of the seminal Yellow Magic Orchestra, and a falsetto hook that’s to die for marks it as one of the more pop-oriented tracks on the album. Had it stopped at “Dummy, hey, I’m talking to you,” it would be not only less interesting musically, but also conceptually; the overt questioning, “now who’s the dumb one?”, rescues it from simply being mean. I like to think it calls to mind the archetype of the fool who is constantly vocally doubting the intelligence of others, in an attempt to cover for their own insecurities. While it’s a comparatively simple track, lyrically, it establishes some of the album’s most important themes, portraying traditional “intelligence” as mutable, and perhaps questionable. Despite its appeal, “Dummy” was actually not included on the original tracklisting of the album, but rather debuted as the B-side to the single “Brainwash,” before receiving this promotion in later revisions of the LP. In this rare case, I actually think the later edition is superior, and it’s the one I’d recommend.

Music: “Brainwash”

Besides just sharing opposite sides of the same single, there’s also a strong thematic connection between “Dummy” and the slower-paced, narrative-driven “Brainwash.” Arguably the most high-concept track to be had on Sex, “Brainwash” tells the tale of an intellectual who willingly forfeits his intelligence for the sake of falling in love. That, in and of itself, is a take on the love song that I’ve never heard before. We all know the trope that being in love makes one stupid--our word “infatuation” is basically Latin for “being made stupid.” But “Brainwash” suggests that, given the choice, we might well be better off as fools rushing in. What good is a life full of knowledge if it is one without passion, and deeper humanity? The narrator of “Brainwash” seems fully cognizant of what they abandon, and makes an informed decision to do so. But what complicates things even further is the development that the object of the narrator’s affections seems desperate to make them regain their prior book smarts--perhaps a commentary on how society frames this issue, and its willingness to prioritize the prestige of education over genuine human happiness. The single “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” explores a related, but also distinct tension between knowledge and happiness.

Music: “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?”

Moreso than anything else on the album, “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is really sort of harrowing. Moers’s falsetto feels less like a fun disco aftershock and more like a cry of pain, and the stilted melody and more brash synthesiser stabs establish an air of unease--though still not so strong that it feels out of place alongside lighter tracks like “Brainwash.” Its lyrical narrative is plainly a tragic one, with a narrator who thinks he’s encountered his wife, but can’t quite piece it together, or get the response that he’s looking for. It’s evocative of the very real agony a sufferer of dementia and their loved ones might face, losing their memories, and, with them, their connection to the people around them. But perhaps the most eerie thing about the track is that it never does dip into more maudlin territory, even if it feels like it ought to. In the full context of the album, and particularly the sentiment expressed by “Brainwash,” we’re forced to question just how unfortunate the tale expressed in this song is. Perhaps “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is also suggesting that love is more powerful than knowledge, in its own way. Perhaps the characters it presents have transcended the need for knowledge of their shared history, because their bond is deeper and more primal than that? Similarly subversive questions about love are also posed by “Exercise Is Good For You.”

Music: “Exercise Is Good For You”

With a pleasingly abrasive, textured synth line and a rather singable refrain, “Exercise Is Good For You” is the one track cut from the later version of the album that I do find myself missing. This track’s narrator has devoted themselves to exercising--perhaps over-exercising--in the wake of a bad break-up. At first blush, it may seem a bit absurd, but this is a real-life coping mechanism, and one that can potentially be quite dangerous, particularly as it’s often combined with eating disorders. The potential for peril is compounded by the notion that, well, “exercise is good for you,” and that in a world where too few of us partake, anyone who does must be doing the best for their health. While it doesn’t deal with the realm of knowledge, I do think “Exercise Is Good For You” works in a similar space as tracks like “Brainwash” and “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” do, offering an ambiguous narrative that asks us to question something we habitually value--in this case, by portraying the apparent virtue of physical fitness in a darker and less healthy light.

Earlier, I referred to this album simply as Sex, but for the UK market, it was re-christened Birds & Bees. There is obviously something quite transgressive and irreverent about naming a pop album “Sex”! We like to think of pop music as trading chiefly in themes of love and romance, so the title Sex functions as a bit of a “low blow,” suggesting that we ought to think more cynically about “what’s really going on below.” Despite this, there’s really not a lot of terribly bawdy tracks to be had on either version of the album, which may come as some surprise if you’re familiar with their early track “Pakmoväst.” I think the fact that the album title was changed, and seemingly “censored” with the very knowing title Birds & Bees, only adds to its transgressiveness, and lends it a certain allure of the forbidden.

You won’t find birds or bees on the cover of the album, however, but rather a butterfly, feeding off the nectar of two large flowers. It’s certainly an image that can be read as evocative of sensuality, with yonic visual overtones. Perhaps more overtly offensive to the eye is its queasy, dull yellow colour scheme, which is actually much more stuck in the 70s than the rather sharp and with-it electro-disco stylings of the music.

Historically, the butterfly is often used as a symbol of innocence, particularly with respect to the carnal knowledge of sex. In François Gérard’s depiction of the mythological heroine Psyche, a butterfly hovers above the subject, as she receives her first kiss from her lover, Cupid, a god of lust and sexual desire. The suggestion of youthful innocence is only heightened when the title Birds & Bees is applied. We might also consider the similarity between the idea of naivete or innocence as a virtue, and the apparent thrust of tracks like “Brainwash,” which also challenge the utility and benefit of knowledge about the world.

Telex would go on to release three more LPs after this one, and while they never quite surpassed a cult following, they keep up with the times quite respectably, incorporating sampling and digital synth textures without losing their signature levity and playfulness. I think they’re well worth a listen if you’re interested so far.

Music: “Raised By Snakes”

My favourite track on this album is one that’s exclusive to the later release, and never appeared anywhere else: “Mata Hari,” which was not only added to the album, but given the prominent position as its opening track. Mata Hari was actually a real person, a courtesan famous for her exotic dances inspired by her time in the Dutch East Indies. But she became caught up in the political storm of the First World War, and the French government convicted her of spying for the Germans--even though many believed she was framed. After her execution for the alleged crime, her severed head was embalmed and displayed in a Parisian museum, for all to gawk at...until it mysteriously went missing, possibly stolen by an “admirer.” It’s a strange and tragic tale, for sure, and one suitably treated with a sense of mystery and uncertainty by the song. An undoubtedly complex and controversial figure, Mata Hari can be seen as a symbol of European disunity, not unlike the Berlin Wall, as well as a representation of sensuality used for devious and destructive ends. I think this track enriches the album’s themes while also feeling somewhat separate, with its more pensive mood and third-person lyricism. That’s everything for today--thanks, as always, for listening!

Music: “Mata Hari”

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#210-201)

#210: Joy Fleming -- Ein Lied Kann Eine Brücke Sein (Germany 1975)

“Hör auf zu spielen und lerne zu fühlen, Wie viele Menschen Freunde sind, Lerne zu singen, vertraue so wie ein Kind,”

“Stop playing and learn how to feel, How many people are friends Learn how to sing, trust just like a child”

For an older and low-placed entry, this German entry has become a fan favorite! Despite this, I wonder if I really like this enough to make my top three of 1975, because I don't go back to listen to it often.

But when I do, it just takes the conductor's stomping to get me into the mood. It's just a great way to start a song~

While the chorus somehow bugs me a little bit, because of how jarring it is (Joy shouts it all out, in comparison to the verses where she has a somewhat lower register), how it builds really helps with getting the party started. The orchestration also helps with the joie de vivre of the song, and Joy manages to live up to her name on stage.

Personal ranking: =3rd/19 Actual ranking: 17th(?!)/19 in Stockholm

#209: Muriel Day -- The Wages of Love (Ireland 1969)

“There will be bridges to be crossed And there'll be teardrops to be lost...”

Ireland’s first upbeat song is a diversion from their first four entries in more ways than one. Not only it’s performed by a woman for the first time, but it also warns about the pains of love—while it’s a great experience, you have to pay a lot in the process. (This actually reminds me of one vintage Eurovision blogger talking about how Horoscopes incorporates a more liberal sound with Ireland's conservatism at the time--maybe it was from the same lines?)

And Muriel has an absolute ball on stage with her uber-high lime green dress. She twirls her microphone around when arriving, bounces up and down like she just got a can of Red Bull, and dances as if it was for the last time. The orchestration really helps out on giving out this vivacious vibe (though the lyric "it can make you live/it can make you die" in context is quite horrifying behind the upbeat track).

Basically, this was an upbeat track which I would've switched out for one of the upbeat winners.

Personal ranking: 3rd/16 (though here, it's 4th/16. A mismatch in rankings, which you can see again in the future) Actual ranking: 7th/16 in Madrid

#208: Alenka Gotar -- Cvet z Juga (Slovenia 2007)

"Moj beli cvet, moj daljni svet Daj, vrni se, moj bodi spet”

“My white flower, my faraway world Come, return, be mine again”

I've never been a big fan of opera--not just in Eurovision, but also in general. I recognize they have beautiful voices and worked on them for the performance, but I never really like the instrumental or the actual song.

Cvet z juga, however, managed to incorporate opera in a way which is actually enjoyable. Not only because of Alenka’s powerful vocals, but also the nostalgia created with the poetic lyrics and the instrumental. It’s a combination of classical and modern--it's not a dance-floor bop (despite the percussion in the background), but it's definitely out of the ordinary.

Combined with a subtle but effective gimmick (Alenka's light-up hand at the end), and you have Slovenia's first qualifier in the semi-final. Definitely deserved.

Unfortunately, Alenka's gone off a bad path since then...)

Personal ranking: 6th/42 Actual ranking: 15th/24 GF in Helsinki

#207: Giorgios Alkaios and Friends -- Opa! (Greece 2010)

"Έκαψα το χθες, νύχτες μου παλιές Κι από το μηδέν αρχίζω όσο κι αν δε θες Δάκρυα καυτά ψέμματα πολλά Πλήρωσα όσο χρωστούσα και τα δανεικά"

"I burnt the past, my old nights And I start from scratch even if you don’t want me to Hot tears, too many lies I paid what I owed and borrowed"

"Motherf---ing testosterone!"

The Scandinavia and the World recap for the 2010 contest basically sums up Opa! as this, with all the tribal cries and torn up shirts. I've also heard it described as the "Love Love Peace Peace" of Greek entries, with the prevalent cry "Opa!", strong ethnic influences, and Cretean lyre to boot.

But beyond that, there's a deeper meaning behind the lyrics. By late 2009-early 2010, Greece was facing the burden's of the Great Recession, which would envelop the country in many years. Their GDP would drop by 26% between 2008 and 2014, and unemployment rose up to 25% at the same time. This economic maelstrom led to public uprisings and an exodus of the highly educated.

Opa is a cry for joy--not just to party, but also to fight against a wave of despair considering the circumstances. It strives to give life and inspiration by those who need it, even if it means starting over. And while economics will trump national pride in the end, one asserts themselves as stronger than they think. And that's what makes it an important part of the Greek Golden Age at Eurovision.

Personal ranking: 6th/39 Actual ranking: 8th/25 (GF) in Oslo

#206: Boris Novkovic feat. Lado -- Vukovi Umiru Sami (Croatia 2005)

"Do zore je ostao još koji sat A vani nemir, k’o da je rat Oblačim kaput i odlazim Da sve zaboravim"

"Only a few hours left till dawn And outside unrest, as if a war is on I put my coat on and leave To forget everything"

Balkan ballads are one of the main joys out of Eurovision; obviously from that region, they feature folk instrumentation and sad lyrics about love. Vukovi umiru sami fits into this mold well, but I only managed to put this in tenth place because of the variety of songs on offer, ranging from glam rock to a wholesome peace ballad.

Over time, however, it has grown on me.

The poetic lyrics stood out the most for me--they tell of an end of a relationship on the Danube (which really grounds the song in its origins, despite the fact I associate it with Central European countries as a whole) and the loneliness of the man in it. There's a mournful nature about it, especially with the choir in the background.

And the way it build is so fantastic, amplifying the story and the stakes. The "Dunavoms" between the last two choruses are well-done and elevate this song to greatness.

I planned to rewatch 2005 to see how my rankings change, and thought it would get to be in my top five. Because of a typo on my list, I needed another song to fit the overall order of the list.

And finally, Vukovi umiru sami is in my top five. :)

Personal ranking: 5th/39 Actual ranking: 11th/24 GF in Kyiv

#205: Marlayne -- One Good Reason (the Netherlands 1999)

“Give me one good reason and I will give you two Say: "I love you forever", say you will, say you do...”

The guitar intro made me think this would be a song I would listen to outside of Eurovision. It reminded me of Michelle Branch’s songs in the early 2000s (of which, Breathe is my current all-time favorite song); her debut album, The Spirit Room, would only be released in 2001!

Alternatively, it has a very country-pop vibe, but it still has a sense of optimism which continues through the entire song. I love how sunny and earnest it is, and it got a really solid result out of it! Unfortunately, it would be the Netherlands' best placing until 2013, but at least it was a jolt of quality in a mediocre year.

Personal ranking: 4th/23 Actual ranking: 8th/23 in Jerusalem

#204: Niamh Kavanaugh -- In Your Eyes (Ireland 1993)

“Love's been building bridges between your heart and mine I'm safe here on my island, but I'm out on the edge this time”

One of the most nail-biting votes in Eurovision came in this particular contest: because Malta's phone connection malfunctioned, they had to wait until the end to give their points. At that point, Ireland was 11 points ahead, which means if Malta gave the runner-up their twelve, the latter would win by one point.

The Maltese jury ended up giving Ireland their twelve, which would give Ireland their second consecutive win in the 1990s, along with a point record which would only last a year.

I’ve never felt the vulnerability of falling in love, but I love the narrative arc in the lyrics, which crescendos with the chorus. Niamh’s voice is a bit harsh at times, but delivers on it with a stately grace in a choice suit.

What also seals In Your Eyes for me was the graceful orchestration thanks to Noel Kelehan. It's especially prevalent in the chorus--the studio cut doesn't do it justice...

Personal ranking: =6th/25 Actual ranking: 1st/25 in Millstreet

#203: Sonia -- Better the Devil You Know (United Kingdom 1993)

“I'll give you my heart and my soul if you give me your love..”

...not unlike with the song Ireland was competing with for the win! While the studio cut is decent enough, Better the Devil You Know wouldn't have gotten so close to victory without the live music aspect of it.

It’s not only the orchestration here, but also Sonia’s fun performance and her cute moves. The track is reminiscent of SAW, but it feels like being at a sock hop in a diner and dancing the night away. The backing vocalists do a good job too; I like how they harmonize the in the chorus .

That all being said, would've this made a better winner? It's hard to tell--it would've been more upbeat than most of the 1990s other winners, but In Your Eyes has aged quite well. And I have several other favorites, so I'm not the best one to comment on it.

Personal ranking: =6th/25 Actual ranking: 2nd/25 in Millstreet

#202: Serebro -- Song #1 (Russia 2007)

“Gotta tease you, nasty guy So take it, don't be shy Put your cherry on my cake And taste my cherry pie”

Unfortunately, song #1 neither placed on top of the 2007 class, nor was it the first song performed that year So, in more than one case, Song #1 is a misnomer.

Nor are they particularly unique amongst bands--Serebro has some similarities to tATu in 2003, in that they are a girl group with a sensual aesthetic. But while tATu's Eurovision entry is more dark, Serebro's has more attitude and edge.

Such saucy lyrics are what makes Song #1 such a total jam, albeit one the fandom overlooks. The dark production increases the attitude of this song, and I love the girls’ stage presence too! Especially those costumes (again, going back to the tATu comparisons, in that they were best known for their school uniforms, hehe); they never fail in adding some sexiness to the performance.

Personal ranking: 5th/42 Actual ranking: 3rd/24 GF in Helsinki

#201: Severina -- Moja stikla (Croatia 2006)

“Zvrc, zvrc, tražit ćeš moj broj, Kuc, kuc, kucaj nekoj drugoj, Jer još trava nije nikla, Tamo gdje je stala moja štikla!”

"Ring, ring, you'll search for my number, Knock, knock, go knocking somewhere else, For the grass has not yet sprouted, Where my high heel has stepped!”

There’s a lot of silly lyrics in Moja Stikla. From mentioning “sex” to “Afrika Paprika”, it’s easy to suggest that this is nonsensical. I’m reading over the lyrics again myself, and they tell quite a different story—of a woman who just wants men to stop hitting on her.

Even now, I'm still confused on how Zumba and African paprika make sense in avoiding men. Or high heels.

But it all doesn't matter when the music starts. Severina's backing vocalists add to the performances, with their solid harmonies and fun presence. Combined with Severina’s own high energy, it’s a good example of turbo folk (even though there was a bit of controversy about whether it actually sounds like Croatian music), and it’s all kinds of fun!

Personal ranking: 4th/37 Actual ranking: =12th/24 GF in Athens

[ecto-american]

I think Ember’s entire self would have fit really well as being a deceased Kpop idol. Not just in terms of who she is as a character and it giving her more depth and personality that already matches her canon, but also give great social commentary on how toxic the music industry, especially Korea's, can be.

More detail explaining this under the cut.

Firstly a disclaimer: I was an absolute Kpop weeb in my high school years. I knew all the bands and dances and stuff, and thus I was somewhat exposed to the culture of Kpop. Since then, I kind of have gone back and done some researched and watched documentaries and the like (because I am a big sociology nerd), but I'm not that deeply invested in Kpop anymore. But this is a thought I've had for a long time, ever since I first began to hear some of the problems surrounding Kpop idols and such.

I also want to point out that I am not saying that Ember within canon is a deceased Kpop star. She clearly isn't, and I'm not trying to make a case as to why she is given canon evidence. I'm writing this because I really like this interpretation a lot better than what canon gave us. In my own personal headcanons and worldbuilding and rewrite fanfiction, Ember is a deceased Kpop star.

We got that squared away? Coolio. Let's start.

Now that “preface” or whatever is out of the way, I really want to begin this by giving some background on Korean pop, specifically the industry and the culture surrounding it, for those who don't know. This is going to give some much needed and important context behind what I'm about to say about Ember. I will also be providing as many sources as I can to this section, but a lot of this is really easy to find on google as well.

In Korea, to be a pop star: you basically have to be perfect. In your dance, music, appearance, your entire image is now basically the property of your manager. Plastic surgery is a massive deal in South Korea, and it's partly due to this.

When you get your contact, you basically have to go through a bootcamp, which involves: Limited contact with family and friends, dropping any romantic relationships or behaviors that would be deemed unwholesome (many companies even go as far as forbidding relationships so that fans can better “see” themselves as being with the idol, which increases sales), brutal training schedules and everything you do is so heavily monitored by your bosses. This has lead to many Kpop idols (especially women) to be dangerously underweight or to have eating disorders, 15 hour training days day after day, being fired for being in a relationship outside of their company's approval/against contract. It's caused literal deaths and mental breakdowns.

Of course, America has the eating disorder problem too, and long work days. But please take in mind: management in Korea actively pushes for these eating disorders and are almost applauded publicly for keeping their stars thin, while in America, it becomes an absolute scandal. And yes, America has long work days too, but in comparison to Korea, American musicians basically only release a single or two in a year, and an album about every three years or so. On average. Kpop groups are pressured to release one or two albums every year on top of regular singles. If you youtube Korean pop shows, there's so many examples of stars collapsing on stage due to exhaustion and hunger. And most of the time, they're forced to get back up and continue, compared to America where they're normally “hey show over”. There are some Americans who will go through with it, but it's normally stars who are determined to finish in spite. It's not a push by your boss to finish or be fired and blacklisted from the industry.

Kpop idols are often broke as fuck, so there’s not even that as compensations. Many literally don't get most of the proceeds from their music. Their contracts are often compared to being slave contracts by stars. One Kpop star even said that she and her group had to split one meal whenever they were on tour because they were in such poverty. Oh, a rising group, right? NO. It was one of the biggest fucking Kpop girl groups of the time, Stellar! But even if they were a brand spanking new group, what the fuck.

And why don't they leave? Because they wanna be famous and make music. It’s just that unfortunately, it’s a very saturated industry because the agencies literally just crank out so many idol groups every single year, thus leading to absolutely brutal competition. People are regularly rotated out and replaced within groups. Idol groups are regularly formed or disbanded There's lots of weekly programs and music competitions to see who's the best of the best. You're constantly ranked. You're constantly fighting for the top spot. Lots of Kpop idols have to really fight to get their name remembered or known. The best of the best get reknown internationally.

Okay I'm done with the background now, lol. But you get the jist! The Kpop industry is fucking brutal and needs a good social change. Though now that I've laid out a lot of this, you can kind of get the sense as to where I'm going with this.

Based on every appearance Ember has in the show, we can deduce two things: She hates adults and wants to be remembered.

What are two major problems within Kpop industries? Adults controlling these really young adults (normally freshly 18) trying to break into the industry that's hard to make a truly lasting impression on, that's trying to be remembered.

Ember, if we take her canonical song and the background information provided by interviews, is meant to have died in a fire after being stood up. But I think that she would much better fit as a character who died from the intense social, physical and mental pressures of being a Kpop star. Perhaps a Kpop star that was left forgotten in the crowd of idols, whether it's dying in an accident or suicide.

It’s just me, but I really personally don’t like the canon that she died in a fire because of a boy. It’s just really weak imo, and idk. I don’t like backstories based around a romantic interest like that, especially when it’s so bland. Ember is a fucking dead musician and rock star within canon, and that’s the best you can come up with? She died in a damn fire after a boy stood her up? No mentions that she was into music or something?

Of course, she likely wasn’t famous she died. She likely rose to fame post her death, but that’s still just really? Kind of a headscratcher in a sense? Ember deserves more. The given backstory of her death is literally so? Random imo? Given who she is in death? Unless her entire thing is about how she changed so much in death for a guy, which is kinda Hmm for me. But that’s most of canon lmao.

I feel like this Kpop idol angle would have been a much stronger backstory potential for her. It could paint her as this really hardworking idol, this incredibly talented musician and vocalist who just couldn't make the cut. Maybe she got fired for loving another idol. Perhaps she just wasn't up to the brutal industry standards of being a Kpop idol. It’s a backstory that clearly incorporates her musical talents within her life, and kind of gives her death more of an impact, that gives her more character depth. Whether she’s a perfectionist because of this or has such strong self esteem issues due to the pressures she experienced in life. All of this motivating her to work solely towards her goal, or making her realize that she just really wants to have a more relaxed life and do things like date freely and enjoy the peace and privacy she now likely can have.

Ember's powers would fit really well with this Kpop backstory too She can hypnotize people. Besides Kpop kind of literally hypnotizing a lot of people, it could be shown as a legitimate skill of hers, or something she gained in death as she hoped that she could truly charm an audience into remembering her. She wants to be remembered within canon. No matter the cost or sacrifice. The same kind of sacrifice and price many Kpop idols are forced to make and pay.

It gives her stronger motivations other than just being famous for the sake of being famous or to possibly get that one boy’s attention (? It really depends on your personal take). She wants to be famous to prove herself to a company that worked her to literal death or that basically rejected her, or as a personal dream finally achieved. She now has the power to destroy the adults that likely exploited her as slave labor that maybe made her die in poverty or after being another abuse victim.

To me, it’d help pack a better emotional punch and reasoning as to why she does what she does. Fame has much more meaning to her, it’s personal, losing it again would devastate her. At the end of Fanning the Flames, can you imagine how hysterical she might be if the entire sequence was an unintentional repeat of the events that lead her to her death? Why she’s so specifically disgruntled against adults other than the typical “teenage rebellion” to the point of turning them into slaves in Pirate Radio (which is? fucking wack considering how much better it’d be to use something else). Turning them into slaves just like they would have done to her for years, especially since it’s on exercise equipment. It’d bring personal satisfaction to possibly watch them run or bike or work out until they literally collapse like she might have done before. Then forced back on and continue. Hell, you can even explain as to why she kept her relationship with Skulker an apparent secret: she’s used to have to hiding a boyfriend or risk losing everything.

I would have loved to see her being used as a good social commentary on that industry specifically, but also as a hot take for the abuse that just happens in general too much within the music (and many other fame based industries).

If we're going by canon show airing date, Ember would have popped up right around the time Kpop was really making it's mark on American culture. America got really into Kpop in the mid-2000s and, as you can tell by BTS's popularity, is still going really strong. There's even an entire Wikipedia page about it, the Korean Wave. Whether you want to “modernize” DP or keep it in it's canon air date roots, this would still be a relevant possibility no matter where you personally like DP to fall on the IRL timeline.

While many Kpop stars are in groups, given her possible circumstances, she likely broke off to be a solo artist. If you've ever seen Kpop idol fashion, they're also very colorful! Very fashionable and interesting, and it'd be really cool to see more of that kind of fashion for her. The dances are very good too, well choreographed, and it'd just lead to really interesting possibilities as to how she looks and behaves on her stage.

I dunno man, I just feel like this is a really cool take. My personal take tbh, and I just think more people should think about deceased Kpop idol Ember.

[polkahotness]

SHORTAKI WEEK DAY 2

 FFN // AO3                        

                              Flinch

I'd never seen anybody go so hard on Arnold. And that's coming from someone who has literally bullied him since the dawn of time.

It all started when we decided to take the bus out of town to visit this record store that Arnold was dying to visit. It was new and located a couple of towns over—'The Record Skip.' It was a dumb name in my opinion and considering the size of the town it was located in, I didn't exactly anticipate business to be booming enough that it would stay open for much longer.

Thus, initiated our fun little trip.

Arnold was determined to get this one particular jazz album that he'd been hunting for online and at every thrift shop, music store, anywhere that you could possibly imagine. Personally, I thought it seemed like a lot of unnecessary work for a giant disc that was way larger than it needed to be when there are CDs or, dare I say it, streaming services that could play you the same music without lugging around ten pounds worth of equipment to do so.

But to Arnold, the records were just his… thing. Rhonda would call it an 'aesthetic' but in reality, he was just a big jazz nerd who liked the way that a record, "made the sounds of each instrument pop." He claimed that when listening to an old record on his fancy phonograph or whatever you call it, was like "being in the room of a jazz concert. You can feel the energy even if it was recorded years, decades ago."

Naturally, I laughed in his face, but I respect his love for the way the music feels and sounds. I remember when we first started dating our sophomore year, we would spend hours in his room with the lights down low as he played various vinyls while explaining the greats to me and the reasons why jazz music was his happy place.

Sometimes I think it's because it helps him stay close to his grandparents who, unfortunately, aren't around any longer to influence his eclectic tastes. Both Stella and Miles seem to understand why this mission of finding some specific LP was important, but me, his 17-year-old girlfriend who much preferred the music app on her phone, well I just couldn't quite wrap my head around the significance.

"So, how did you find this shop anyway?" I asked him as we jostled on the bus down the road towards the town I'd never heard of. "This city is like… the smallest dot on a map I've ever heard of."

"It isn't that small of a town, Helga," Arnold insisted before offering a small shrug of his shoulders. "I stopped here once one the way back from visiting Arnie a few years ago," he explained, and I rolled my eyes at the mention of his zany cousin.

"Right. Arnie. Talk about someone living in po-dunk nowhere," I commented, though Arnold didn't seem to react.

His attention was focused outside the glass of the window as he watched our bus slowly travel its way into the town Arnold was eager to visit. Once the sign for the town passed us by, I could feel Arnold's grip of my hand tighten slightly and I couldn't help but smile at the involuntary action.

He was excited.

That made me excited.

Even if it was just for some dumb record.

When the bus lurched forward at its stop, both Arnold and I stood up as he began rushing off down the aisle. He could hardly contain his excitement for the possibility of finding whatever long-awaited album he'd been searching for.

Me?

I was just interested in seeing what this album was in the first place.

Up until now, he had refused to tell me—said it was stupid and that I would laugh at him. While he wasn't exactly wrong because the chances of me laughing were pretty high, it didn't mean that I didn't care. I wanted him to be happy even if it was because of something that I found weird and dumb. My opinion didn't matter. This was his thing and as the loving, perfect, gorgeous, and incredibly supportive girlfriend that I had had the honor of being for nearly two years now, I was prepared to follow that footballhead into the depths of hell if it meant he'd wear that dopey grin of his for even one minute.

'The Record Skip' wasn't too far down the road from where our bus had stopped, and Arnold practically skipped his way down the sidewalk towards the small building with a giant record hanging above the door that read the name of the shop. It didn't seem all that busy and my suspicions were correct when we entered the store to find a lone cashier who looked bored to tears and a single customer perusing the endless rows of albums.

As my eyes scanned the bins filled to the brim with records of all varieties and in no particular order, I watched Arnold begin to sort through them feverishly. Wanting to help, I stood beside him and looked over his shoulder while quietly saying, "You know Hair Boy, if you told me what you were looking for, I might be able to help you find it."

"No thanks," Arnold replied automatically as a frown grew on my face. "If it's here, I want to be the one to find it. If that makes any sense."

Pulling away from peeking over his shoulder, I chuckled to myself with a lone shake of my head. "It doesn't, you know," I told him with amusement. "Make any sense, that is. I mean, look around!" I exclaimed while gesturing at the small store we had found ourselves in. "There must be hundreds of records in here and without my help, we could be here until closing time. And from the looks of 'Moody McGee' over there—" I pointed to the cashier tapping away on her phone without a care in the world, "—I just don't think they'd be all that stoked at such a proposition."

My words gave Arnold food for thought as he paused in his sifting through the records to consider my observation. He knew that I had a point and after a moment of silent contemplation, Arnold breathed a heavy sigh of defeat. "Fine," he said softly before twisting minimally to look over in my direction with a stern expression painted on his features. "But if I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh, okay?"

Once again rolling my eyes at his inane paranoia, I agreed to his terms and conditions. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine, Arnoldo. Now what is it that we're looking for, huh?"

Arnold took a heavy breath as if to prepare himself for some big dark secret he'd been harboring. The dramatics of his lead-up to the important and somehow embarrassing tidbit threw me off once it was finally off his chest. "It's this Dino Spumoni record. It's… It's really, really rare because it was a live recording from one of his shows when he was still singing with Martin and Lewis in the Lounge."

I stared at him with my mouth ajar as though in shock, which I quickly wiped off and swapped the expression for a skeptical glare instead. "That's it? That's the big mysterious record you've been hunting for? Dino Spumoni?" I soon rolled my eyes while letting out a scoff. "Cripes, Arnold! Didn't your grandparents own basically every single one of his stinkin' albums? I'll bet it's up in some closet somewhere in a box, all dusty and—"

"Well, it's not, Helga," he interrupted me, and my mouth instinctively zipped itself shut at the sudden ferocity in Arnold's tone. When his wave of agitation passed, he soon apologized and explained. "I'm sorry, it's just…" He opened his mouth to let words pass through his lips, though only air escaped. As he scrunched his brows inward, he seemingly tried to conjure just what it was he had hoped to already have said and been done with.

"It's just…what, Arnold?" I pushed gently and Arnold sighed before turning back towards the rows of records he began sifting through once again.

Quietly, he resumed speaking. "When Grandma died… Grandpa didn't take it too well." He glanced over his shoulder at me before returning his attention to the records he thumbed through, while muttering, "You remember that."

"Sure," I answered while walking away from him to walk around the end of the row and to the side directly opposite of Arnold. My hope was that from where I stood across the way, I could secretly peek over at him while pretending to look through records. "That was freshman year, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," Arnold confirmed while holding an album up and turning it around to scan over the song listings before replacing it back to the slot he'd found it in. "Grandpa died our sophomore year."

"I remember," which I had—very vividly, in fact. It had been a really tough beginning of high school for the poor kid, and as much as I hated to admit it, their deaths were a large part of what brought the two of us even closer together. I hadn't been able to help myself from checking in on him and stopping by randomly to see how he was doing. Soon I was staying for dinner and helping move belongings and sorting through boxes.

It wasn't long after that Arnold and I began officially dating.

I always imagined how his Grandpa would have teased us; his grandma continuing to call me 'Eleanor' and maybe giving Arnold a new title of his own as an upgrade of sorts. It never had felt the same since they'd passed, but so was the nature of life—and Phil and Gertie had lived a couple of pretty amazing ones.

"Right when we first started sorting through things," Arnold continued on; effectively dragging me out of my thoughts and back to the conversation we were currently having. "I found this old Dino Spumoni record—one that I hadn't seen or listened to before. It was shoved all the way in the corner of my grandparent's closet, and we were all baffled as to why it had been hiding back there."

"So, naturally, we pulled it out and I began looking over the cover—memorizing it to the smallest wrinkle and shallowest scratch," he laughed at this as though ashamed of openly telling another person about what he'd done. "And one day, as I was pulling out the record to play it, it sort of… got caught on something? I yanked at it to try and wiggle it out of the slot, but when it got free, it slipped from my fingers and—"

"It shattered, didn't it?" I answered for him as he nodded slowly.

"Smashed," Arnold uttered with a shake of his head and a humorless smirk. "Just like the name of his song."

"And that's why we're on this hunt? To replace the record that you accidently broke?" I shrugged my shoulders while moving to the next column of miscellaneous albums. "I mean, I get it. It was your grandparents, but by replacing it, you're just honoring some other random person's copy, you know?"

"That's true," he agreed, though his tone suggested otherwise. "It isn't all about the record itself, though. After it fell and broken and I had been angry for a significant amount of time, I picked up the slipcover of the album and looked over it like I had before—memorizing every indentation and faded color that made the cover art. But this time, I ventured to look inside the slot to where the record used to lie."

A long pause followed as Arnold probably waited for me to beg for more. I was happy to oblige because I really was curious now. "And?" I pressed him.

Arnold shifted over to his next column of records and flipped with ease while glancing at each album that he passed. "There was a note shoved in the back corner. That's what the record had gotten stuck on. And since it hadn't been touched in who knows how long…" his voice trailed off as though verbally giving me a blank to fill in for him.

"It's no wonder you hadn't found it before," I finalized as he went on to tell me more about the note without my prompting.

"The note was a letter. It was dated from the 50s and it was addressed to my Grandma… from Grandpa… after their very first date."

My mind tried to imagine Gertie as a young woman and Phil as some young man; the two of them no different than Arnold and myself, but for a few years. I shook off the vision I couldn't make and said, "Well, are you going to tell me what it said, or what?"

Ignoring my sarcasm, Arnold recalled the letter as though he had recited it countless times before. "Gertie—I had a swell time with you at the lounge, tonight. Here's a cut from that performance, courtesy of Dino himself. Maybe on our next date I'll take you to meet him, as long as you don't go running off with him. He'd better not touch my gal." The both of us laughed as he ended the letter and offered a shrug. "Then he just signed it, 'yours, Phil.'"

"Your grandparents really were something," I noted while sorting through my pile; Arnold moving from the row he was in to the next one over and started going through more albums. Just beside him, the only other customer in the entire store also carefully inspected record after record—also a man on a mission.

It was clear that finding this record wasn't because he missed the music or wanted it for some kind of collection he had. Arnold was looking for this record because it was made from the very night in which his grandparents had shared their very first date. Unlike some of the zany stories told by both Phil and Gertie respectively about such a date, that letter had given Arnold tangible proof of their love story.

Finding that record meant completing the album Arnold had probably stashed away beside his bed so he could look at it the way he used to look at that old picture of his parents. Not like I knew that or anything. I didn't watch him from the skylight sometimes when it was really dark out because there was a new moon and he was distracted which meant I could hide in the shadows of the rooftop above him.

But that was beside the point.

I had to find that album. I wanted to give that back to Arnold—return to my beloved that which was lost with two of the most important people in his life. My sweet, poor, footballheaded darling. How I longed to take away the pain clouding his heart. How I desired to wave a magic wand and turn back time so he could reunite with his grandparents once again. If only I could find that album. If only I could be the hero and bring to him the one thing that would set off the familiar glimmer I longed to see from beneath his emerald green eyes.

If only… If only… If only …If—

"Hey! Give that back!"

Arnold's voice echoed through the shop, and I blinked myself back to reality to look over in the direction of where my familiar footballhead was glaring up at the other customer who was the size of a linebacker. In their hand was an album—one that I could see from where I stood had that of Dino Spumoni's face on it.

It was the album.

"No way, little dude," the stranger insisted while holding the album away from Arnold's desperate grasping. "Do you know how much this puppy is worth?"

"But I had it first," he expressed, his tone growing more distressed with each word and fling of his arm toward what the man held away from him. "You took it out of my hand."

"Yeah, so that I couldhave it," the man's voice was smug; arrogant. This dude thought he could just get away with taking something because he could.

As nice as Arnold was and as harsh as he could be when pushed, he didn't seem to phase the giant stranger who towered over him. "Please," Arnold began to plead, "You don't know what this album means to me…"

"And you don't know what it's gonna mean to my wallet," the man countered.

That was all that I needed to butt my way in to their dispute and place myself directly between this douche-nugget and Arnold. This imbecile thought that he was going to walk away with this album after swiping it out of Arnold's hands because he was some 'big, strong, tough guy?' He was clearly looking for a sweet, sweet kiss from my fists.

"Hey. Iron Giant," I addressed him while shooting a confident glare up in his direction. "How about you leave my friend alone here and I'll let you mosey on home without your eyes so swollen shut that you end up running into every single trash can, pole, and sign that you encounter?" My long-winded threat didn't strike fear in the man's eyes, though I could tell he was surprised at my sudden involvement.

With a somewhat awkward chuckle, the man shifted his gaze between Arnold and me. "Are you really threatening me? Over some stupid record?"

"Are you really so stupid that you think I won't punch your lights out faster than you can say 'I'm sorry for being a literal ass?'" I retorted as I tightened my fists at my side in preparation for my next move.

Arnold wasn't having it though.

"Helga, stop," He demanded in a harsher tone than I'd anticipated. The sudden change in his demeanor threw me off guard, and I stepped aside to look at him as he moved to the forefront to stare up at our selfish stranger.

"Listen," Arnold began firmly without so much as a stutter or waver in his voice. "I found that album first. Fair and square. It was in my hand and you will give it back to me."

This amused the man and he took a lone step in to further intimidate and loom over Arnold and me. In a low growl, he said, "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it… kid?"

My eyes shot over to Arnold who didn't even flinch at the words the man spat in his face. With an intensity I hadn't seen in Arnold in a long time, he narrowed his eyes and matched the stranger's tone to say in return, "What will we do?" He repeated before turning to look at me and silently tell me the next step in his plan. Fully understanding what it was I had to do, Arnold faced the stranger again and simply stated, "We're going to take it back."

With that, as the stranger was distracted and utterly confused, I reached out to snatch the album from his grubby hands. "C'mon, Shortman!" I hollered as Arnold and I turned around to begin running away from the angry man we left behind.

"Hey! Get back here!" he demanded, but we didn't listen. The man may have been dumb, but he certainly wasn't dumb enough to follow after the two of us and cause a scene. Not only did this cashier not care, but we were just teenagers. Surely the dude didn't want to get into a huge fight with a couple of kids.

After we paid for the record and it was safely in a bag that Arnold carried with pride at his side, we slowly walked down the sidewalk in pursuit of the bus stop. Evening was approaching and the sun had just begun to slowly sink into the horizon; the sky morphing into bright hues of oranges and pinks that swirled together like paint on a canvas. Once we made it to the bus stop, we took a seat on the bench to wait while Arnold pulled out the album and gave it a look-over.

"I can't believe we found it," He mused while staring at the cover with a smile.

"Technically you found it," I corrected him before smirking and leaning back into the bench we sat on. "And what I can't believe is you, Hair Boy."

Arnold carefully placed the album back in the plastic bag before turning to look at me with a raised brow. "What can't you believe?"

"That guy was huge, Arnold," the words came out in shock as though the memory of him was even bigger than he had been in reality. "I'm surprised you had the guts to stand up to him like that. You didn't even flinch."

"You were the one threatening to start a fight, Helga, not him. Why would I flinch?" he soon countered, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"He seemed pretty antagonistic to me. He could have socked you right there, but you just…. Stood there." I said with a smirk. "But me? That's not really how I work, you know that. I was ready to pick a fight. And If he ended up giving me two black eyes, he would have at least gotten one and it would have been worth it, too. You were walking away with that album if it was the last thing I did, today."

"At least it didn't come to that," Arnold said while reaching out to lace his hand with mine and offered a light squeeze. "I think our plan worked just fine."

"You're telling me. For once you and your giant head were the brains of the operation," I offered, and Arnold shook his head in amusement.

"It can't always be you, you know," he soon replied with a twinkle in his eye; the hint of a tease with a half-smile that I could hardly resist. "I can be clever and witty too."

"You have your grandparents to thank for that," I told him earnestly; the glimmer in his gaze dulling as he soaked in what I was saying. "I think that Gertie and Phil would be proud of you for holding your ground and getting that album back. I'll bet it was something they would have done."

"Grandpa definitely would have," Arnold agreed with a nod and a smile at the thought. I could tell that he was thinking of either a memory or trying to imagine him doing such a thing. He was lost in the thought for a moment before letting out a chuckle and adding, "Grandma would have gone a much, much more dramatic route, though."

"You're probably right about that, footballhead."

Together we sat, hand in hand, on the bench as we waited for the bus to arrive. With each new conversation and laugh that we shared, I relished the future the two of us would surely have. If today had proven anything, it was that Arnold and I worked best in tandem with each other; just like another couple we knew.

And when we reached Sunset Arms again and headed up for Arnold's room, the first thing he did was put on that record; the music filling the air to transport us back to that legendary couple's very first date. Like them, Arnold and I would have many a story to tell our grandchildren one day, and maybe someday, they too would go on a mission to find some missing relic of our love and fight to get it.

My only hope was that, like Arnold, they too wouldn't flinch at the opportunity.

[dlwritings]

Would Never Be | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - Tom x reader | Shawn Mendes x reader word count - 3,608 warnings - A/N - for the anon who requested!

summary - You and Tom had been best friends for your entire lives. When you met Shawn Mendes, you were determined to leave your feelings for Tom behind. Unfortunately, the heart wants what it wants.

You were a sucker for friends to lovers stories.

Your top three favorite movies? When Harry Met Sally, What If, and Love, Rosie. All three stories had the same basic plot: can guys and girls be “just friends,” or will someone always catch feelings?

For a long time, you believed the former. Over the years, you had had plenty of guy friends. No one ever caught feelings in those relationships. From your childhood days, there was Adam, Nathan, Trent, and Simon. Those friendships formed due to your parents all being friends, so it was more out of obligation. Any feelings? Nope. From secondary school, there was Damien. You went to Damien about almost everything: actual crushes, family drama, college rejection (and acceptance) letters, and anything else you needed a friend for. Did you fall for him? He for you? Of course not.

Then, one day, it felt like everything changed. You had been friends with Tom for your whole life. Tom was incomparable to any other guy friend you had. You were next door neighbors and had met one lovely summer day while you were both playing outside. You were riding your bike down the street when all of a sudden he zoomed past you on his own. You lost your balance and fell over. You were six, so the little tumble made you burst into tears. Immediately, Tom turned around and came back to you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, getting off his bike and letting it fall onto the grass beside the sidewalk. “I didn’t think I was close to you. I’m so so sorry.”

You sniffed. “It’s okay.”

“Are you bleeding?” he asked. You shook your head no and looked up at Tom. He gave you a nervous smile and stood up, then stuck out his hand to pull you up. “We have ice lollies at my house,” he said. “Do you want to come inside?” You smiled eagerly and nodded, your fall immediately becoming a distant memory.

“I’ll go tell my mom!”

You buzzed home on your bike, shouted to your mom where you were going, and were back outside and over to Tom in mere minutes.

The rest, as they say, was history.

Somewhere along the line, you fell for him. And it was more than just a silly fall off your bike. These were feelings knocking you on your ass.

Everything with Tom was so platonic. It wasn’t the kind of platonic you read about in the stories where it was clear to everyone except the two of you that feelings were involved from both parties. It was like Tom was holding a neon sign that flashed “I friendzoned her” every time you were together. And it was fine. Really. It was. You loved Tom however you got to have him.

This didn’t mean things weren’t hard from time to time.

Like, there was the school disco when you were in your final year of school. The two of you were supposed to go together. You always agreed you’d go together if you were both single. The time came, and neither of you were in relationships, but Tom had a crush on the school’s most popular girl, Lacey. You knew he wanted to go with her. You saw the way he looked at her. It was the same way you looked at him when he wasn’t watching.

You all but forced him to go with her, convincing him you were okay with going stag. His face lit up, and he thanked you a million times over. You selfishly wished his face could’ve lit up like that at the idea of going with you.

Or there was the time your date ended up being a total creep and left your house in a fit of rage when you wouldn’t sleep with him. You called Tom, but he didn’t answer. You called again, and got nothing again. You decided to call his home phone and see if he’d pick that up. Instead, it was Harry who answered. “Is Tom there?” you asked him, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.

“Sort of?” Harry said. The words came out as a question. “Like, he’s here, but he’s super unavailable.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he’s in the middle of fucking Lacey.”

You hung up the phone and burst into tears.

He’s not mine. He’s not mine. He’s not mine.

You forgot that some friends didn’t get to the lovers part, no matter how much one party wants it.

So, you forced yourself to move on. You dated around in school, still maintaining a close friendship with Tom. You went to BRIT school with him and ended up with a fairly successful movie career of your own. Despite rumors spreading constantly that the two of you were romantically involved, you never were. You were just best friends. Plain and simple. As the years went on, that fact started to sting a lot less. It was more like a dull buzz in the back of your head.

You met Shawn Mendes at the MTV Movie and TV awards in 2018. You liked his music and thought he was super cute. Not to mention, he seemed like one of the few celebrities your age who hadn’t let the fame go to his head. You always wanted to befriend him, talk to him, or even DM him on social media, but you always wimped out. It was he who approached you at the award show. You were on the red carpet, posing for a picture, when he suddenly walked up to you. “Hey,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan of your movies.” You smiled at him. “Oh, uh, I’m Shawn by the way.”

You laughed, “Yeah, I know. I love your music. Your last album was insane. Queen is like, my favorite song.” Now it was Shawn’s turn to smile.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Shawn, (Y/N), over here!” one of the photographers suddenly shouted. Shawn looked at you as if asking if you wanted your picture taken with him. You smiled and gave him a short nod, so he put his arm around your waist and turned to the cameras.

What you didn’t notice was Tom standing at the other end of the carpet, staring at you with a look you were very familiar with.

You weren’t seated anywhere near Shawn during the award show, but he somehow found you as soon as it ended. You heard him call your name as you were headed to the car that was ready to pick you up. You turned to find him jogging over to you. You couldn’t help but smile as he ran his fingers through his hair, finally slowing to a stop in front of you. “Where’re you headed?” he asked.

“I was just going to go back to my hotel,” you told him, biting your lip softly. “Unless you had a proposition for me.”

“Yeah, actually,” he said. “Do you want to maybe go grab some drinks?” Immediately, you nodded.

“That sounds great,” you said. “Let’s-”

“Hey, (Y/N)!”

You turned when you heard Tom call you. Truthfully, you sort of forgot he was at the show. “What’s up?” you asked him. He looked from you to Shawn and back again.

“N-Nothing,” he stuttered. “I, uh, I kind of thought you and me would-”

“I’m going out with Shawn,” you said before he could finish the sentence. The last thing you wanted was for Shawn to think you had prior plans with Tom, which you really didn’t. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Okay. Yeah.” You and Shawn both waved goodbye to Tom, got in your car, and headed off to the nearest bar.

After that day, things weren’t the same between you and Tom.

He was still your best friend, but you had a new man in your life. Shawn became first priority. The two of you made a perfect couple. The media loved you, and, for the most part, your respective fan bases were ecstatic that you were together. The only exception were the few fans who were furious you were not with Tom. It didn’t bother you or Shawn. He had once gone through a similar thing with people shipping him and Camila Cabello, so he was no stranger to opinionated fans.

It was around that time that things with Tom started to get weird.

Tom started to feel you slipping away from him. It was also around that time that he started to realize he was absolutely, madly, and irrevocably in love with you.

He grew angry any time he saw a paparazzi report on you and Shawn out on a date or a picture one of you had posted of or with the other. He never wanted to go out with Harrison anymore, and he found himself ignoring most of your phone calls. It hurt too much to talk to you knowing you could never be his.

“You’ve gotta get over this,” Harrison said to Tom one day.

“You’ve gotta leave me alone,” Tom retorted.

“I’m serious!” Harrison almost laughed. “You’ve been in love with this girl for -What?- 17 years?”

“Give or take,” Tom mumbled.

“Then fucking do something!” Harrison said.

“She’s with Shawn,” Tom said. “You know that. Plus, Shawn’s perfect for her. He’s, like, over six feet tall, and he’s got those fucking muscles, and he did that Calvin ad that she talks about all the time, and he’s a musician, and he’s actually a good person. I can’t compete with any of that.”

“Maybe, but you know what else I know?” Harrison said. Tom just raised an eyebrow. “She has never once looked at Shawn the same way she’s been looking at you since we were kids.”

-

About a year passed since you and Shawn started dating, and things with Tom were better. In the blink of an eye, everything went back to normal. You were so relieved that you never bothered to ask why he had been so cold.

On the other hand, things with Shawn were off. Shawn was trying. God was he trying, but he knew you weren’t fully into it, even if you didn’t realize it yourself at the time. You didn’t see anything wrong with your relationship. Everything felt normal to you.

You were staying in a hotel in New York, as it was the day before the Met Gala. You usually lived in London, but when Anna Wintour invited you to the ball, you hopped on the first flight overseas to go. Shawn and Tom were both going as well, so you ended up getting rooms in the same hotel. Shawn had gone out with a couple of his friends for the day, and you were excited when you heard him come into your hotel room. However, you noticed quickly that his usual bright smile wasn’t meeting his eyes.

“What’s going on, babe?” you asked as he came to sit beside you on the couch. “You look upset.”

“I just-” He paused to clear his throat. “-I want to talk to you about something.”

“Uh-oh,” you laughed. “That doesn’t sound too encouraging.” You thought he was joking, but when he looked in your eyes, you knew he was being serious. “You’re freaking me out, Shawn.”

“You know I love you,” Shawn said, “and this past year has been ama-”

“Stop,” you said quickly, holding up a hand. “Please don’t.”

“I need you to let me say this,” he pressed. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and it didn’t help that Shawn looked like he was going to cry, too. “You mean so much to me, but I can’t keep being second best.”

“Second best?” you repeated. “You’re, what are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said softly.

“Tom?” you clarified. Shawn just looked at you, clenched his jaw, and hung his head. “You know there’s nothing going on between me and Tom!”

“But I know that you want there to be,” he said.

“That, that doesn’t matter,” you stuttered. “Okay? It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does matter, (Y/N)!” he shouted. “I don’t see how you don’t get that.”

“Shawn-”

“You use me to get over him,” he said, “and I was fine with that for a while. I get it. Sometimes you need to be with one person in order to really let someone else go. Eventually I realized that that wasn’t working for you. You can’t be with me because you will never be over him.”

Tears started to fall steadily from your eyes, and you put your forehead in your hands. You didn’t even want to look at Shawn. You weren’t upset with him at all. You were embarrassed and upset with yourself. Deep down, you knew there was a part of you that was always hoping Shawn would help you get over Tom. You didn’t want to give up in case, eventually, it would start working. You loved Shawn. You really did. He was lovely and wonderful and handsome and kind and almost everything you wanted in a person. What he wasn’t -and what he would never be- was Tom.

“Hey,” Shawn said softly. You looked up at him and wiped some of the tears from your eyes. “I’m not mad at you, okay? I need you to know that.” You took in a deep breath and nodded. You felt your lower lip quiver, so you bit it gently. “I still love you so much, and I’ll always be here for you. I just think you need me as a friend more than you need me as anything else.”

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. “I never ever meant to put you through this. I wanted it to be you, Shawn. I wanted it to be you so badly.”

“I know,” he said with a gentle smile. “I wanted it to be me, too.” You sniffed and wiped your fingers under your eyes, then put your hands on his cheeks.

“I love you, you know that?” you said. “I really do. I’m just sorry I couldn’t love you more.” Shawn gave you a sad smile and pressed his lips softly to yours, then wiped another tear from your cheek.

“I’m going to go, okay?” he whispered. You nodded and pulled away from him.

“Okay,” you whispered back. Shawn gave you another smile and stood up from the couch.

“I hope you figure things out,” he said. He didn’t need to explain what he meant. You knew.

You hated it, but as soon as your front door closed, your instinct was to call Tom. You couldn’t help it. You clicked his contact name before you could second guess it and listened to it ring only twice before he answered.

“Hello, love,” Tom almost sang when he picked up. You swallowed thickly and let out a shaky sigh. “(Y/N)?”

“Are you busy right now?” you asked him.

“No,” he said. “You want me to come over?”

“If you don’t mind,” you said.

“Give me two seconds,” he said. He hung up almost immediately and was at your door just as quickly. You walked over to the door and let him in, then walked back over to your bed and threw yourself on it. “What’s going on?” he asked, coming over and sitting on the bed beside you. You mumbled something into your pillow that Tom couldn’t quite hear. “I can’t hear you, love,” he laughed lightly, poking your cheek. You sighed and turned your head to look at him.

“Shawn broke up with me.”

Tom’s smile dropped, and he opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly. “W-Why?” he finally stuttered. You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth, so you just shrugged and turned on your side facing away from him.

“Just thinks we’re better off as friends,” you mumbled. “He was really nice about it.”

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he said gently. You were both quiet for a moment until Tom sighed. He laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around you from behind. This made you start to cry.

Guilt overwhelmed you as your heart fluttered the minute his skin touched yours. Shawn was right. Of course he was right. You had been head-over-heels in love with Tom for your whole life, and no matter how much you loved Shawn, the feelings would never be the same. You hated yourself for that. You felt like you had been using Shawn for the past year. You couldn’t believe he had forgiven you for that. Why couldn’t your heart have just chosen him? Everything would’ve been so much better.

“It’s okay,” Tom whispered. “Shh, shh, you’ll be okay.”

Eventually, you cried yourself exhausted and fell asleep with Tom’s arms wrapped around you. When you woke up, Tom was gone as if nothing had really happened at all.

The day breezed by and, before you knew it, it was time for the ball. You met up with your stylist and got ready. Your outfit was incredible, your hair and make-up equally as amazing. You met up with Tom at the red carpet, and he gave you a hug. “You look gorgeous,” he said, standing arms length away from you to admire your outfit.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” you said with a smile. He hadn’t gone as bold as some of the other men at the event, but he looked handsome all the same.

The two of you walked the carpet, posing for pictures together as well as independently. You were having such a good time which was exactly what you needed. As you were posing with Tom, you absentmindedly glanced down the carpet, admiring your fellow stars’ outfits. Then, you saw Shawn. He looked at you as well, a small and gentle smile on his face. You felt that guilt creeping up on you again. Before tears could come to your eyes, you saw Shawn mouth, “It’s okay.”

And you knew he meant it.

When you finished your walk down the carpet, you found yourself pulling Tom off to the side before you entered the venue. “Whoa,” Tom laughed. “What’s going-”

“I lied to you,” you said abruptly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I lied to you about why Shawn broke up with me,” you said. Before Tom could say anything, you kept talking. “I know I don’t need to tell you this right now, but I feel like I can’t not tell you. I hate how I’m feeling right now, and I have to tell you.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I love you,” you blurted out. “I love you, and I’ve loved you ever since we were kids. When I started dating Shawn, I was trying so hard to get over you, because I know you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you. And that’s, it’s fine. It’s something I have to move on from. It’s just, Shawn could see how I felt about you, and he felt like he was second best to you. I hate that. I hate that I made someone else feel like they weren’t amazing because I can’t get over you. And, and like I said earlier, Shawn was super nice about it. He’s, he’s such a good guy Tom, and I wanted it to be him. I wanted to love him like I love you because he deserves that, but I can’t. I can’t because I fucking love you, you fucking dickhead!” You paused and shook your head. “Sorry. I got mad. I don’t-”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

You cocked your head and looked at Tom with a quizzical expression. Tom laughed lightly and scratched the back of his neck. “It was your birthday,” he explained. “Your 18th. You were plastered. I drove you back to our neighborhood and let you crash with me because you didn’t want your parents to see you wasted. The next morning, we told them-”

“That you got drunk and I had to help you home,” you finished. “I remember. Then I told you I never wanted to talk about that night ever again, so why are you bringing it up?”

“Before you fell asleep,” Tom said, “you told me you loved me.”

“I, I what?”

“You said you were in love with me,” Tom continued. “I told you I loved you too, and you started crying, because you meant it as more than friends, and no matter how many times I told you I did too, you just didn’t believe me.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you asked.

“You told me never to talk about that night ever again,” he said. “I thought you remembered your confession and that you regretted it. So, I’ve basically been spending the past five years trying to find someone I think is as incredible as you are. And you know what? I come up short every damn time.” Tom took a step closer to you and put his hand on your cheek. “I’m sorry about Shawn,” he whispered, “but I won’t be as sorry if it’s lead you to me.”

Whatever happened after that would stay between you and Tom forever, because Anna Wintour had a strict no-phone policy at the Met Gala, and you had left the paparazzi behind on the carpet. For that, you were extremely grateful. People had been scrutinizing your relationship with Tom for your entire professional lives. It was nice to have its actual beginning be yours and yours alone.

[go4blood]

tell me your favorite songs // c.h.

Hello! This is the second piece in my 9to5!sos series! In case you aren’t aware, my 9 to 5 series is the boys in like, normal jobs. I have already posted the Luke one where he is a waiter. Ashton will be a barista and Michael will work in a bookstore. Hope you guys like this fic in the series! I made a playlist to go with this fic in particular with every song I mentioned!

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: record shop!calum x reader

Content: smut, praise kink, brief choking, a lot of fluff, and good songs

—

You parked your car in the mostly empty parking lot of the local record store. You just bought an apartment in your hometown after finishing college, and it was great to be back to what you knew. You were a frequent customer at this particular record shop before you left for college, so when you came back, you knew you had to stop by again. You walked in and were greeted by the sound of Rebel Rebel by David Bowie playing over the speakers and monotone voice coming out of nowhere, “Welcome to Josey Records, how's it going?”

You turned to the counter to see a boy with dark curly hair and brown eyes. He had a round face and strong brows, and he sported a Guns N Roses tee and plaid trousers. If looks could kill, you’d be dead on arrival. He looked bored to death as he sorted through some boxes of records. He looked oddly familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

“Oh, just potentially buying a new record. Not sure which, though.” The records were sorted alphabetically, and you looked through the J’s. Janis Joplin, Jimmy Eat World, Elton John, and even the Jonas Brothers were there. There was a good mix of every genre, and you were eager to check the whole place out after 4 years of being away.

“Looking for any artist in particular? I don’t know what music you like, but I also don’t know if you only buy vinyl to display or your wall and never play. Most girls are that type.”

You were taken aback at his comment for sure. If he was planning on getting any sales, that wasn’t any way to talk to a customer. “Pardon me?Most girls?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, you just seem like the type of girl to buy a vinyl of The Neighbourhood or Ariana Grande to display on a shelf and collect dust rather than any good music is all.”

Oh, he was one of THOSE types of record store employees. A music snob. He probably worships The Rolling Stones or U2 just because they aren’t mainstream. But this is the only record store in town, and you weren’t going to just stop coming here. You walked up to the counter, and looked straight into his eyes, “Listen, uh, what is it,” you looked down at his name tag and back up at him, “Calum. Wait a minute,” Everything made sense. You did know him. 11 AM until 2 PM every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday you had music theory with him your junior year of highschool. He was a music snob back then, and obviously nothing had changed, “We had music theory together, Calum Hood. Obviously you’re still an arrogant prick.”

He scoffed, “Well, sweetheart, at least I have taste, because you obviously don’t.”

You rolled your eyes, going back to the J’s and picking up To Be Continued by Elton John and setting it on the counter, “I’ve been looking for this one for a while, so how about you ring me up so I can leave.”

He chuckled, ringing it up and telling you the total with a cocky grin, obviously glad he got under your skin.

You gave him exact change and grabbed the record, leaving without a word. You got back into your car and drove to your apartment, walking up the endless flight of stairs and going inside. You took your shoes off and went to the bedroom to change into comfier clothes. You then turned on the TV and picked a show on Hulu to watch and drift asleep to.

—

You awoke to the buildings fire alarm going off. You cursed quietly, quickly slipping on the nearest pair of shoes and running downstairs and outside. Everyone was also slowly exiting the building one by one, extremely groggy and tired. You looked at your phone to check the time, and it was 3 in the morning. You looked down at your attire— a crop top with extremely short sleep shorts. God, you’d do anything to not be seen in your sleep clothes. A tall figure stood near you and crossed their arms, complaining about the fire alarm going off at such an hour. You looked over and to your unpleasant surprise, it was Calum. Oh, great, he happened to live in your apartment building. Absolutely splendid.

“Oh, hey, Y/N, looks like you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms to cover your exposed stomach.

“Unfortunately, Cal, I really fucking can’t get rid of you.” You were obviously annoyed. You thought you’d only have to see him when you went to the record store, but now here he was living in the same building.

He looked you up and down, liking what he saw. You crossed your arms around you tighter, despite the fact that it hid nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head, “Make sure you come back to the shop, if you wanna prove you actually have taste. You got lucky after buying that Elton John album, you gained respect from me, darling.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. The alarm turned out to be a fluke and everyone was told they could go back to their apartments. You silently went back up the stairs, trying to stop thinking about Calum’s request. Was he taunting, or did he actually want to see you? You got back into bed, not being able to think of anything else.

—

You decided to go back to the record store and prove to Calum you had good taste in music. You parked your car and made your way inside the shop, this time greeted by the sound of Lola by The Kinks and a cheerful greeting from none other than Calum.

“Hey there, neighbor! What are you looking for this time?”

Your mind thought of any album that might possibly impress Calum. Abbey Road? No, too basic. Slippery When Wet? You already owned two copies. You sighed, saying the next thing to come to your head, “Tell Me I’m Pretty?”

He went to the computer, typing it in and shaking his head, “By Cage the Elephant? Sold the last one a month ago and never restocked. Sorry, darling. Good choice, though. Even if they’re a little mainstream.”

You leaned on the counter, resting your cheek on your hand, “Why don’t you recommend me something? Since you apparently have great taste.”

He excitedly came out from behind the counter and led me to the G’s in the indie/alternative section. He pulled out a record with a boy with candle sticks on each of his fingers on the cover. He handed it to me, smiling with pride, “This album is called This Is It by The Greeting Committee. They aren’t very popular here. They’re from Kansas City, but they’re amazing. I think you’d like them. You’ve Got Me is my favorite song on there, also Don’t Go.”

You took a look at the track list, counting the number of songs. You nodded, “Okay, I’ll listen, but only if you let me recommend you something.”

He leaned against a display, “Alright, fine. Go get something and I’ll take it home tonight and listen. It better be good.”

You grinned, handing him his choice for you and also looking through the G’s. You pulled out How To Be A Human Being by Glass Animals and handed it to him, “Youth is my favorite track, but they’re all good. Pork Soda is great, too.”

He took a look at the cover and the track list, nodding, intrigued to hear your recommendation, “How about you give me another one just for the hell of it and I give you another one?”

You nodded, and you both parted ways to go find another. You went to the T’s and picked out Tame Impala’s album Currents. Take Impala was slightly mainstream, but they were your favorite, so you took the chance of giving it to him. You met him at the counter, second guessing your choice, “I chose Currents by Tame Impala, and I recommend you listen to Let It Happen, but you might not like it because they’re sort of mainstream, so if you want I can look for another-“

He interrupted you, smiling, “I’ll listen to whatever you want me to, regardless of popularity. I got you Fleetwood Mac’s wonderful album, Rumors! I remember you mentioning you’ve never listened to them before, and I think it’s a necessity in your collection. Listen to Dreams and Gold Dust Woman.”

“You were listening? When I walked into Mr Meyer’s classroom and I asked what song he was playing? Senior year?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Well, of course, I can’t go on with my life knowing you’ve never listened to Fleetwood Mac! That’s a sin.”

You smiled, nodding and handing him your recommendation, “Okay, I’ll listen tonight then.”

He grinned, ringing you up, “$16.12.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly confused, “Did you forget to ring up the second one? That’s really cheap for two vinyls.”

“Second one is on me. For my favorite customer.” He put it in a bag, smiling at you sincerely.

You couldn’t help but blush before uttering out a thank you and leaving to your car.

—

I lose all control whenever you're around

Darling, don't you know

Now I must admit

I wouldn't last a single day

Without you in it

You sat on your living room couch, listening to every word of every song on the first album he recommended. The song playing was his favorite on the album, You’ve Got Me, and you couldn’t blame him for calling it his favorite. It was a good song, and it was beautifully written.

Meanwhile, Calum was listening to your first recommendation. He would usually not listen to music that had this sound, but he really enjoyed it. And the fact that it came from you made him like it even more. He wasn’t confused about what he was feeling in the slightest— he made a point when he gave you that recommendation. That album has tons of love songs. He was enchanted by you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. There was something about you he just loved. Maybe it was your feisty attitude, or the fact that you made a point to prove yourself to him, but he would go into a trance when he saw you. He needed to see you now. He knew which room number was yours— you were only a few floors down. He decided to swallow his pride and go down to your room. He stood in front of your door and knocked; There was no going back now.

You answered the door, surprised to see Calum there, “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, thinking of what the hell he could say, “I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner at my place? I’m ordering takeout, and it’s no fun to have alone.” Nailed it. But now he had to pretend he didn’t just eat leftovers already.

“Um, sure, I’d like that.” You smile, slipping on your shoes that were by the door and quickly running to take the needle off of the record and put it back in the case. You then come back and close the door behind you as you exit your apartment.

He led you to his apartment, praying it wasn’t too messy. He unlocked the door and let you go in first, following behind and closing the door.

“I’m gonna order the food. If you want, you can choose a vinyl to put on.” He smiled at you, walking to the other room to talk on the phone. You looked through his collection, and it was impressive. He had every album by Joy Division on the shelf, and he also a few rare records displayed on the wall. You looked through the ones on the shelf, surprised to see a few Mac Demarco album. Calum walked back into the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for you to choose an album.

“So, you’re a big Mac Demarco fan?”

He sat up, seeing his copy of 2 in your hands and blushing, “Uh, it’s a guilty pleasure.”

You put it on the player, moving the needle onto it and smiling at him, “I love this album.”

He smiled, patting the spot next to him, inviting you to sit beside him. You got up, taking his request and sitting beside him.

“Listen, I’m sorry for being kind of a dick that first day you came to the shop. I feel really bad.”

You shook your head, chuckling a bit, “It’s okay, Cal. Obviously you teased me because you like me.”

He blushed, “What? Where would you get that idea, I’ve never even looked at a girl!” He laughed, looking away from you and then back. He did like you. You were both silent as the sound of The Stars Keep On Calling My Name faded into My Kind of Woman. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to kiss you. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes, and he moved a piece of your hair out of your eyes, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. He leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. At first, he was just gonna kiss you sweetly. Just to get the point across he liked you. That was all. But he wanted more than one little kiss. He kissed you again, harder this time. He pulled you into his lap, resting his hands on your hips as he moved his lips down to your neck. He paused, mumbling against your skin, “Is this alright, darling?”

You nodded, desperate for his touch. He then continued the action, peppering kisses here and there.

He came back up to look at you, singing the words of the song to you dramatically, “You’re making me crazy, really driving me mad!”

You giggled, blushing as he took your face in his hand, kissing you deeply.

He fiddled with the button on your jeans, looking up at you for permission. You nodded, and he pulled them off of you. You sat up, pulling your shirt off and throwing it across the room. He looked at you in awe, undoing his belt. His knee made its way between your legs, spreading them apart. He smiled, twirling a piece of your hair around his finger, “You’re so pretty, baby. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You blushed, shaking your head and looking away, “No no, not the prettiest.”

He frowned, putting his lips to your ear, “Let me make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world, yeah? Can you let me do that?”

You nodded, and he hooked his fingers onto your panties and pulled them off. He slowly pushed into you, allowing you to adjust to him. Your breath got quicker and heavier, and you gripped his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. You couldn’t get any real words out, only moans.

He buried his face into your shoulder, gripping your waist with one hand to keep you in place, “You’re doing so good, darling. Taking me so well, aren’t you?” His lips met yours once more, kissing you sweetly and pulling back away.

You took his free hand by his wrist, placing his hand on your collarbones, hinting at something you wanted.

It took no time for him to understand, and he applied slight pressure to your neck. Finally, someone who actually knew how to choke. You gripped his wrist tighter, whimpering as he began to move faster inside of you.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess? Are you ready?”

You nodded, feeling a pit in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, and before you knew it, you came undone. You opened your eyes slowly, trying to catch your breath.

“You alright, darling? You did so good for me.” He ran his thumb over the marks on your neck, taking pride in what he left on your skin.

The doorbell rang, and Calum quickly put his jeans back on and throwing a blanket over top of you. He opened the door, and it was the takeout delivery. He quickly paid, telling the young guy to keep the change and closed the door.

He placed the bag on the coffee table, sitting beside you on the couch and handing you your clothes, “So… do you want the egg rolls or the dumplings?”

You were glad you fell for the dork from the record store.

Taglist!

@i-calumhood

@angelbabylu

@blahehblah

[readbeneaththelines]

Captured Moments Pt. 5

A/N: You are an artist given the chance to work with BigHit Ent. as their Creative Art Director. Getting to spend time with BTS, you form a friendship with them. But With Namjoon, could it grow into something more?

Characters: Namjoon x Artist!Reader

Warnings: soft Namjoon, soft and fluffy OT7

Word Count: 3471

HE”S  SO DAMN ADORABLE!! cr, to gif owner

The radio event was fun to watch. The seven of them were animated, funny and shared the plans for their next album. You focused in on Namjoon, listening to what he shared. You had learned so much about their hearts while they talked about their passions. You pulled your small sketch pad from your bag, quickly drawing them at the studios microphones. After wrapping the show up, everybody entered the van. 

"I'm starving!" Jin exclaimed from the back seat.

 "You're always starving Jin." He had to agree, but nonetheless told the driver to take them to dinner. It was a quaint restaurant, a place in the back reserved for them. While the others ate, Namjoon leaned over to you, whispering in your ear. His warm breath tickled as you couldn’t help the small shudder at the sensation.

 "Are you going to tell me anything about my scene?" You told him no, that it was going to be a surprise and he needed to be patient. He sighed, then returned to eating. The eight of you closed the place down, leaving when the owner walked out with you. 

"Thank you so much for a great day. Unfortunately I have to get changed and head back to the studio. Things aren’t going to finish themselves." Pleas for you to hang out some more went rejected, and you waved goodbyes as they let you out at the building. In a daze, you headed for your studio. You grabbed your comfy clothes and went back your laptop, pulling up your emails in between changing. You entered one from the antique shop confirming the hold on the antique philosophy book they had. Another email contained confirmation of extra security for the park where you would be filming the tree scene for Namjoon. The final email you answered was from a local modeling agency letting you know that they had available children and young teens that you could use for shooting your scenes.

Taking a seat on the floor, you grab colored pencils and your sketch pad, laying them out in front of you. Recalling your time with all of them, you set about finishing the drawings from the night. Sometime during the wee hours of early morning you had fallen asleep, curled up with a finished piece beside you.

Loud chatter from the hallway woke you up. Rubbing tired eyes You rolled up the drawing, fixed your hair best you could, and headed for the BTS studios.

They were already hard at work, working on choreography from one of their newest songs. Carefully opening the door so not to disturb them, you leaned against the back wall and watched them. Each person had their own style that separately was great already, but when you combined them together way an awesome sight to behold. They worked in synchronicity, each one giving way to the other in harmony.  When they finished, you greeted them and called them to you. They grabbed their towels, wiping the sweat from themselves as they came to you. You handed Namjoon the drawing, excited anticipation making your hands tremble slightly. You had never given a drawing to someone as a gift, outside of your parents. When he unraveled the roll of paper, they all crowded around to look at what you had drawn. “This is perfect, Y/N. Thank you. We will put this up in the dorm after we get it framed. This means a lot to us. They all agreed, giving you a group bear hug as thanks. “Okay, so they basic framework is done for each scene. I got word last night in my emails, that my staff will be finished with their designs in tatality, by end of this week. This means, after your approvals, we can start set design, and hopefully start shooting in two weeks. I would need your schedules so I can plan a good time for each of you.” 

“You tell us the time you need, and we will rearrange.” Namjoon replied, rolling the drawing up carefully and placing it by his bag. “So, you say mine is almost ready too? Can I see it yet?” You hated keeping his a surprise, but you wanted it to be special. He put so much of himself into others, you wanted this to be all about him. He deserved something special and you didn’t want to ruin it. 

“Not quite, Joon. But soon, I promise.” He looked almost defeated, but perked up when you gave him a clue. “Your scene is serene and peaceful, that’s all I’m going to say. Now back to the drawing board, you guys have a great day.” you had a little skip to your step as you left, happy that something you did made them smile a little more today. 

NAmjoon was in a haze the remainder of the afternoon. “Joon-hyung, everything good?” Jimin asked, coming up beside him. “Hmm? Oh, yeah everything is good. I was just thinking.” Hoseok spoke out loudly. “Thinking about Y/N!” he laughed hysterically as Namjoon shat him a death glare. “Well, am I right?” 

“Shut up Hobi.”

Exhaustion took over halfway through the day. You emailed the staff telling them you were leaving for the day. Walking to your apartment, you reminded yourself that you had to pick up the book from the antique shop on the way. You turned the corner, spotting it across the street. Making a mad dash across the intersection, you nearly slid through the opened door. You told the owner who you were and she brought the book out of the storage room. 

It was bound in old, worn leather. The title was burned into the cover, the drawings delicate and detailed. The pages were thick and well loved by the past readers who held it in their hands. There was an aroma of oiled leather, musk, and age on each page. THere were noted fro past readers in te margin of some pages. It felt heavy in your hands, but the sentimental value was worth it. You were sure he would love it at first sight. You asked her to wrap it, then paid for the purchase. Finally you were home. Your couch called out to you, tempting you to rest in its snuggly comfort. Taking a blanket from the stand, you wrapped yourself in a cacoon, them popped down for a nap. 

By the end of the evening, the choreography was mostly set, and they were finished. Fatigued and sore, they made their way back to the dorm quietly. “Hoseok, can you hang back a minute?” Namjoon asked as he tugged at Hoseok’s sleeve. “Sure, what’s up?”

“What you said earlier, about me thinking about Y/N. Maybe you are a little bit right. Don’t make a big deal out of it, but yesterday, she was.” Hoseok cut in “Beautiful? Hot? Stunning? Yeah, she was. And did you see how she looked at you Mr. Dapper? She could not take her eyes off you in the mirror. We all noticed it. But really, Joon, she is pretty, and I think you two have a special bond forming.” 

“Really? I guess. We are both passionate about what we do. We get caught up in the moment. And yeah, she was beautiful last night. Just please don’t say anything to anyone. I mean, it’s just a little crush, honestly.” Namjoon and Hoseok arrived at the dorm, the others already showered and in bed. “Night Hoseok, and remember what we talked about.” Hoseok nodded then entered his room. 

The remainder of the week flew by. You ate lunch almost everyday with them, only missing out when you had to meet with a few people about the upcoming scene shoots. Friday night, you met with them to finalize the set designs and get their approvals. You kept Namjoon’s in a separate hidden file, making the excuse that his wasn’t quite ready to see. Once ecstatic approvals were made, you closed the lap top. “Joon, I need you to meet with me tomorrow, to finalize your set. Can you all meet with me, say around noon? I already cleared it with Hitman Bang and he said you all could take the day to help out.”

“Sure, where do you want us to meet you?” 

“I will give your driver the address, all you need to do is show up. Dress casually, and comfortably, it will be warm where we will be going.”

Saturday morning you were buzzing with excitement. You arrived at the park early, meeting with the young boy who would be part of Namjoon’s themed scene. The space was perfect. A river flowed quickly beside the tree. The tree was magnificent. Its branches were sturdy and long, the leaves giving a ample shade beneath. The grass was soft under your bared feet, almost like you were walking on carpet. You explained the the young boy what he was going to be doing. He was more than happy to get the chance to climb the huge old tree, and sitting on the lowest branch, he smiled down at you.

“That place right there is perfect! Are you about ready to start filming?” You nodded enthusiastically. The crew ate a quick bite, clearing everything just in time for the van to arrive. They stepped out of the van, looking around in awe. “Nice. Y/N/ THis place is so peaceful.” Jin told you as they took in the river and vast stretch of grass. “This place is ours all day” you told them. Namjoon came out last. He eyes scanned the scenery and then settled on you. Picking the wrapped book from your bag, you walked over to him. “This is your theme Joon. And this, this is a present for you. It’s part of your theme, but I got it especially for you to keep. I hope you like it.” 

The staff and everyone backed away, leaving you and Namjoon your own personal bubble. Slowly, his long thin fingers untied the string bow. He careful unwrapped the parchment paper until the book lay visible in his hand. You watched closely as his eyes began to mist, the beginning of tears forming behind his lids. He gingerly opened the worn cover, inhaling the scent deeply. Shaky fingers turned page after page. Your heart swelled when you saw a single tear trace a path down his cheek. “This is for me? It’s gorgeous, Y/N. I- I can’t think of any words that would describe how special this is to me.” When he finally looked up from the book, his eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. Without a second thought, you stepped to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. A trembling arm slowly wrapped around your waist, hugging you close. “Thank you,Y/N. I will cherish this forever.”  You leaned back, wiping the tears from his eyes with your thumb. “Now, now, its just a book. Also, we can’t have you crying during your shoot. So wipe those tears away, and lets get you in place. 

Namjoon met with the young boy that would be representing his younger self. They got along splendidly as they talked about a mutual love of reading. Finally it was time to begin. The boy was helped to his spot on the limb above Namjoon. He leaned against the trunk,book open and laid on his chest. The young boy closed his eyes and relaxed. Then you placed Namjoon just below him, his new book in hand. He pulled his knees up and immediately started reading. You stepped back, camera in hand, and began snapping pictures. Ever photo was surreal. Namjoon lost in his imagination and thoughts, the young boy lazily resting as his dangling foot swayed back and forth. When you had finished, you thanked everyone in a hushed voice and excused them. The boy climbed down and you thanked him for his help. You offered him the book which he was using as a prop and sent them on their way. All that was left were you and the six remaining members. 

“You all can leave if you want. This is Namjoon’s day. I will stay nearby and wait for him. You driver will take you all back. Thank you for coming and sharing in this together. I hope you all like the final outcome.”

“You really are an amazing kind person, Y/N. I know he will remember this day for a very long time. He hasn’t had time like this since we debuted. Thank you for giving it to him” Yoongi, in his awkward way, pulled you into a hug, releasing you just as quickly as it had happened. “You’re welcome Yoongi. I’ll talk to you all later. I will get him home safely.” 

When everyone was gone, you walked several yards away, leaving Namjoon in his own little world. You watched as he turned each page over with such tender care, making sure not to bend the pages. His long legs stretched out in the grass, crossing at the ankles as he leaned back against the strong trunk of the tree. The sunlight that shone through basked him in a soft glow, creating a near angelic image. YOu snapped a few more pictures before you settled down and let the sun bathe you in its warmth. You closed your eyes as the rushing river played out a song of its birth. I told you of its time and travels. It sang of those who drank its cool waters and swam in its shallow banks. 

“Y/N, hey. Time to wake up. The sun’s almost setting.” Namjoon, knelt down beside you, gently shaking you awake. He had watched you sleeping for several minutes, silently wondering what he had done in his past life to deserve such a special gift as what you had given him today. His soul felt renewed, his heart full and peaceful. This is why she kept it a secret from him, she didn’t want to spoil the moment, didn’t want to ruin  the serene atmosphere that engulfed him. He silently thank you for everything. For the precious book he held in his hand, and for the time to listen to the river’s song and the wind’s melody. He had never met a kindred soul like his, but he was beginning to think he had found it in you.  

“What time is it?” your voice was groggy from sleep and you weren’t aware that you had drifted off. “It’s almost six. We need to get back for dinner or else they will think we’ve been kidnapped.” He offered you his hand to help you sit up. Straightening out the long sundress, you rose to your feet. Namjoon held your waist until you were steady. You felt your heart racing at the innocent touch, your face blushing. 

“I want to thank you for today. For all of it. I have never had anyone give me something so, kind,  and thoughtful.” He looked down into your still sleep-laden eyes, a tugging at his heart to lean down and kiss you. Throwing caution to the wind, he bent his head down. His hand came up to cup your cheek before slowly pressing his lips to yours. It was a tentative kiss, barely even there, but he felt it through to his core. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, holding yourself upright, grounding yourself to him. It was the softest of kisses, like stepping into an ocean as a child for the first time. He didn’t try to deepen it, made no move to ask for more. It was over just as it had begun. Your eyes opened to find him looking at you with apprehension. 

“I’m sorry. I just felt like-” you placed a finger to his lips, shushing him kindly. “It was perfectly fine, Joon. It was perfect.” You could still feel his touch on your cheek. Placing your hand over his, you pressed it to you. Your head leaned into the caress, and all thought process left you. “Would you mind if I kissed you again?” He replied by snaking his arm around your waist and bring you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as you lifted yourself upon your toes. The second kiss held more feeling, the connection more intense. He let you guide the kiss to where you wanted it to go. Your lips parted, his tongue slipping past them with ease. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, and warm. It felt like home in his arms. The way you two melded together, tongues exploring the warmth of the other. You felt yourself becoming dizzy from a simple kiss. But this one was different from any other kiss.The electricity reached down into your inner being, took it by the hand and led it on a journey. It was mind blowing, soul wrenching and it was wonderful. 

Breaking apart only after your lungs were begging for air, you felt yourself becoming light headed. He instinctively held you tightly against him as you leaned into his embrace. Your heart was racing and so was your mind. You had just kissed Kim Namjoon, and he had kissed you. What about the complications? What if someone saw? As if reading your mind, Namjoon rubbed your back in a soothing manner, relaxing you from any worry. 

“We could be in big trouble if anyone saw that.” you whispered against his chest.

 “Yeah, we could, but I would do it all over again.” His voice was low and caring. 

“Yeah, I would too.” and you meant it. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I’m not sorry that I kissed you. If you want, it will never happen again.” He pushed you back to look you in the eyes. “But if you do, I would be happy to kiss you a thousand times over.”

“I would like for that, but I have to think about you first. You are the leader of the biggest male Kpop group in the world. Everything you do has an effect on them too. I don’t want to be the one that brings you or the others grief, in any way. If this was another time, another place, I would love to get to know the real you, and see where this would go. But you are who you are to the public, and I can’t ruin that for any of you.”

He hugged you tightly, his head nodding but his heart denying what you were saying. His heart won this round. “Let’s try something. Let’s see where this goes, just like we have been doing. No one will be the wiser. If we see that we are growing closer, we will cross that bridge. If not, then nothing is different.” 

“So you’re telling me, you may be willing to risk everything you have, if what he have blossoms into something more?” He nodded. “Okay, we’ll give it a try.” Taking both sides of your face in his hands, he tilted your head up, ghosting his lips over yours before claiming you in a heated kiss. Time and space disappeared in that moment, no sounds except that of both hearts beating in synch. You could feel the earth moving beneath you, all one thousand thirty seven miles per hour, your head spinning at the rate the world was. If you could capture this moment, draw it as you see it, you would. It would outshine any priceless painting. 

Breathless and dizzy, he finally pulled his lips from yours, smiling against them before parting. “Let’s get you home.” He took your hand in his, interlacing his fingers with yours as you walked to the edge of the park. Dusk was settling overhead and the park was now empty. He had the freedom to hold your hand without repercussions until your ride arrived. It was dark when the car came both of you climbing in the back seat. Your head rested on his shoulder, the sound of him humming a tune, lulling you into a half-sleep daze. Once you arrived at your apartment, he kissed your cheek and said goodbye. “I’ll make sure to see you tomorrow.” he whispered in your ear. You gave a quick peck to his forehead and exited. Your fingers ran over your lips as you recalled his kisses. They were a heady aphrodisiac to your senses. 

You phone chirped before you even entered your apartment.

Joon: thank you for today. I will hold it close to my heart forever.

Your couldn't help the smile they spread on your face. Seeing him happy made all your recent hard work with every minute. You set the letter on the stove and prepared to make yourself a mug of hot tea.

@min-shookga-yoongi @beautifulseoulliar @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoong i@trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @xjamlessparkx

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Sex and Violence- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,620

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“’Nobody's Fault But Mine’,” Dean said after taking a shot with his new BFF. Nick chose a table where he could see the dancing women show off their bodies, and Dean wasn’t complaining. They sat across from each other while you sat on the end of the table, right between them. Happiness wasn’t what you were experiencing. Nick was bonding with Dean as if he could read his mind about what he liked.

All you had to do was observe him like a hawk which is why you weren’t drinking, just watching them talk about rock music.

“Zeppelin recorded it in '75. It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune,” he said as Dean nodded in agreement. “’You Shook Me’.”

“'69, debut album, written by Willie Dixon,” Dean said. Shifting your eyes between the two men with your arms folded, you tried to notice something about Nick.

“Written by Willie Dixon and J.B. Lenoir.”

“Dude. Dude! You know, for a fed, you're not a total dick.”

“Aren't we all feds?” he asked as he looked to you but frowned at your expression.

“Yeah, I know, I just... you know, not a lot of feds are as cool as us, huh?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Nick said to you, making Dean notice your expression.

“And what would that be?” you remained evasive. Nick looked to be concentrating on something in your eyes, but no matter what, he couldn’t read your mind. It was like something was blocking him from doing so.

“I understand how you feel about these women. I can see it in your eyes, you don’t like the stripping business.” Deciding to just give him what he wanted, you nodded with a slight smile.

“Yes, that’s it. I prefer something a little less… degrading.”

“Like our jobs. I respect the hell out of you.”

“Thanks,” you smiled again, but Dean knew that smile was fake.

“Alright, can I level with you two?” Nick asked seriously. “I found something kind of weird.”

“Well, you have bought your weird to the right spot. Lay it on us.”

“I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up,” he reached into his suit pocket before taking out a bag with a familiar purple flower in it. “So, I went back, uh, through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene.”

“Like it was left on purpose?” Dean asked.

“You know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? Tell you the truth, I got no idea what's going on.”

“Give me that,” you said as you snatched the flower bag off the table. Staring at it, you realized where you’ve seen this exact flower.

“What is it, Y/N?” Dean asked once he saw your reaction.

“I think I might. I've seen a flower like this before, and Sam is with her right now.”

“I’ve called him twice and he is not picking up,” you groaned as you laid your head against the back of the front seat.

“That son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. Silence passes before your phone rings, and you see it’s Sam.

“Sam! Where the hell have you been?” you answered, putting it on speaker so Dean could listen.

“With Cara.”

“Oh, it's Cara now? And you're not picking up your phone?” Dean asked as he focused on driving in the rain.

“We were trying to find the blood samples—someone stole 'em.”

“Yeah, I bet!”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nick found flower petals at the crime scenes. Hyacinths,” you explained and when you got no response, you explained further. “Hyacinths? Mediterranean. From the island where the whole fucking siren myth started in the first place. Sam, Cara had hyacinth flowers!”

“You think Cara's the siren?”

“Well, we did a little checking up on her. She's only been in town for two months. And she has an ex-husband. A dead ex-husband, Carl Roberts. Dropped like a stone, no warning. Supposedly a heart attack.”

“Well, maybe it was a heart attack,” Sam sighed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat out.

“Look, I just don't think it's her.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“I dunno, a hunch.”

“A hunch? I'm giving you cold hard facts here and you're giving me a hunch?” Dean asked, and when Sam didn’t respond to that, you and Dean put the pieces together. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No.”

“Holy shit you did! Middle of Basic Instinct and you bang Sharon Stone? Sam, you could be under her spell right now!”

“Dude, I'm not under her spell.”

“Unbelievable, man. I just don't get it,” Dean scoffed.

“What? Say it.”

“First, it's Madison, and then Ruby, and now Cara. It's like... what is with you and fucking monsters?” you laid it all on the line.

“Y/N, Dean, I'm telling you, it's not Cara. I feel fine.”

“I'll bet you do.”

“You don't trust me?”

“No. Because this could be the siren talking.”

“Look, tell me where you are, I'll come meet you and we'll figure things out.”

“No,” you and Dean said at the same time.

“Are you serious?” Sam scoffed.

“I wish we weren't. We gotta handle this, Sam. By ourselves,” you explained before hanging up the phone. Groaning, you dialed your dad’s number while Dean grew quiet. However, after the 8thring, you knew he wasn’t going to pick up.

“Sam's in trouble, dad. Dean and I think the siren's worked her mojo on him. Give me a call as soon as you get this,” you sighed as you hung up.

“We should call him.”

“Who?”

“Nick.”

“What, no, we can handle this by ourselves.”

“He is the one who showed us the flower. He could be a set of fresh eyes, someone who isn’t a hunter. Someone who actually does this for a living. He could see something we don’t.”

“What part of ‘does this seem fishy to you’ don’t you understand? This guy could be bad news.”

“He’s the only one we got. Three heads are better than two, and right now, we could use a third one if we’re going to catch this siren.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed.

“It’ll be fine,” he said as he got out his phone. Quickly dialing his number, he started talking to the FBI guy about needing his help. Hoping that you were wrong about this one, you let Dean meet him outside of a bar where Cara entered after leaving from being with Sam. Getting out of the Impala, you walked to Nick’s car before entering the back seat. He gave you and Dean a once-over before nodding to Cara.

“She went in just a second ago. Should we follow her in?”

“No, no, no, I don't wanna tip her off. Let's just wait and see who she comes out with.”

“So, you think... what? She's drugging these guys?”

“Pretty much,” you said. “And I know how it sounds.”

“You sure about that? Because it sounds like crazy on toast. All these different strippers, they're magically the same girl? But then they're not strippers at all, it's Dr. Roberts.”

“It's kind of hard to explain, but I have my reasons and they're good ones, so you're just gonna have to trust me on 'em,” Dean sighed as he got out his flask of the good alcohol.

“Yeah. OK. I guess.”

“Thank you. That's actually nice to hear,” Dean smiled before taking a swig of the flask. He offered it to Nick who just smiled and took it without a word. He took a sip before handing it to you. Nodding once, you took it and gulped some down before returning it to him. He took one last sip before handing it to Dean. Watching as Dean took the last swig, your eyes widened. Wait, Cara might not be the siren, after all, you might be in the car with it. Looking at the rearview mirror, you tried to see the reflection of Nick, but he made it clear that he wasn’t going to let you catch him in the shot.

“So, let's say she is drugging her vics. How's she pulling that off?”

“She could be injecting them, you know, or passing the toxin through, uh, physical contact,” Dean listed off the ways.

“Or it could be her saliva... You really should have wiped the lip of that thing before you drank from it, Dean,” he smirked, watching the realization come to yours and Dean’s faces. “I should be your little brother. Sam. You can't trust him. Not like you can trust me. In fact, I really feel like you should get him out of the way so we can be brothers. Forever.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you're right.”

“Dean don’t listen to him,” you said as the siren turned to you.

“As for you, I don’t think Dean could ever satisfy your needs in the way I can. We can be together forever after Sam and Dean are out of the way.” Staring at him with wide eyes, you felt the vibrations of his voice travel to you, but you weren’t affected by them. Whatever Amara said about her protecting you, she was doing it right now because you didn’t want to listen to him at all. However, seeing how Dean was affected, you could save him and kill the siren all in one go.

“I think… that’s a great idea,” you played along, and he smirked in satisfaction. Where the hell were you going to get a bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor, and especially that damn song when it wasn’t even a song?

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[bunnymaknaereacts]

모해 (Mohae) - 하나 (one)

Pairing: Reader x Wonho (ft. Reader’s friend x Changkyun)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fansign!AU

Warnings: Swearing, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 2k

(Anything said in Korean will be in italics. I don’t want to chance translating it wrong and people getting mad at me. I’m still learning.)

“I can not believe you talked me into this,” you said with a blush as you and your best friend stood in line outside of the concert hall where a fan meet of one of your favorite kpop groups, Monsta X, was taking place.

“What do you mean? We’ve worked so hard to get here,” she answered. You had always planned on visiting Korea. Both you and Y/F/N had been saving for over a year. You were almost fluent in the language, although Y/F/N had only studied the basics required to get around. But now that you were here, about to meet some of your favorite idols, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“I know. It’s just... unreal.”

“Well get used to it. Fast. You don’t want to sit down and not be able to speak, especially not in front of Wonho.” She nudged you with her elbow, giving you a flirty look. You laughed. She was right. You needed to chill out.

You stood in line for another hour or two before they finally opened the doors to let people in.You and Y/F/N had been in line since 3:30/4 am so you were near the front and would be able to meet the boys fairly early in the day. You both had everything you needed for the event. Your favorite albums, yours being The Connect and Y/F/N’s being Shine Forever. Your gifts for each of the boys, Yours being handmade bracelets with each member’s first initial and Y/F/N’s being a keychain from a shop in your hometown. Your questions for the Q&A after the signing. Songs from Monsta X’s latest album, We Are Here, played over the sound system while the fans found their seats and got settled. The event space was huge, the bleachers pushed back to allow more seats on the floor. Adverts for We Are Here and the upcoming world tour hung on each wall, along with a few for other events happening later that week. Another hour went by before the doors were closed and an announcement was made that the event would be starting shortly. Y/F/N squealed excitedly next to you as you dug your albums out of your bags.

When Monsta X finally entered the room erupted in cheers from Monbebe from around the world, the loudest being the person sitting right next to you. You winced, grinning as you watched the idols find their seats, waving to their fans. When the boys sat down their managers explained how things were going to go. The fans would go up one row at a time. You got five minutes with each member. You weren’t allowed to have your phone out at the table. You could give one gift per member. When the five minutes were up, say goodbye and move on. When the signing was over there would be a two hour long Q&A. You were allowed to have snacks as long as you didn’t leave a mess behind. Photography was allowed as long as you kept using flash to a minimum. 

You and Y/F/N were sitting in the fourth row from the front so you had to wait quite a while, but not too long. While you waited you discussed what you would say and how you thought they would act. Every once in a while your eyes wound scan the stage, watching the boy’s smiles as they signed someone’s album or tried on a silly hat. One time you looked when the second row of fans were meeting the boys and you could have sworn you made direct eye contact with Wonho. Of course you were too shy so you looked away quickly, your face starting to feel warm. A few minutes later though, Y/F/N is insistently poking your side.

“Yah! What? What is it?” you ask, smacking her arm away.

“Wonho is totally staring at you, jagiya.”

“What?” Your head snapped towards the stage and she was, in fact, right. While waiting for the next fan, Wonho was straight up staring at you. And the second you realized this he winked at you. Wonho, Shin Hoseok of the Monsta X, fucking winked at you! “Oh my!” You immediately looked away, the most embarrassed you have been in your entire life. You tried to avoid looking at him after that, just in case you caught his eye again. Of course it was pointless because eventually your row was up and you were standing near the stage, waiting to meet the boys. Y/F/N was in front of you, something you were only half thankful for. While she was talking to Shownu, you couldn’t help but let your eyes roam down the table. Avoiding Wonho, for obvious reasons. Eventually though five minutes were up and it was your turn to meet everyone.

Shownu, aka Hyunwoo, was exactly as you expected. A total teddy bear. He was so incredibly sweet. All you wanted to do was pinch his cheeks and hug him. And his voice was so much deeper in person, it nearly made you swoon. Minhyuk was so much fun. He was very animated. He talked kind of fast. Trying to learn as much about you as he could in those few short minutes. However last question was interrupted when Jooheon next to him did aegyo for Y/F/N.

“This one does aegyo all the time,” she said, pointing to you.

“Really?” Jooheon said, looking at you. “Can we see?” Your eyes went wide as you looked around. Half of the table was looking at you, at first. It wasn’t until you agreed and did it that you had everyone’s attention, even Changkyun at the end. You decided on your favorite, which you did all the time. That thing Wonho does where he points at his head and says ‘ang!’ Then to be extra cute you also did Jooheon’s signature ‘kkukku kkakka!’ From there you heard various sounds. From laughter to squeals of joy to clapping. People ‘aww’ing and Y/F/N groaning as she cringed. Immediately regretting everything, you hid your face in your hands, embarrassed as all hell. You didn’t dare to look at who was doing what. All you wanted to do was pull a Hyungwon and curl up into a ball on the floor. And at that moment, just to make things worse, it was time to switch members. You thanked Minhyuk, taking your album and moving on. You’d later read it to find an additional note that said, “Sorry about Joohoney. Your aegyo was great!” You sat in front of Jooheon, handing him your album while blushing furiously. “That was really good! Almost as good as me.” He smiled, his dimples making you feel a little better.

“Thank you,” you replied, secretly proud to have been complimented by the Aegyo King. He did apologize for making you embarrassed, though, which was really sweet. He also asked about your history of liking kpop. What groups you liked, who your biases were.

“What about Monsta X?” You chuckled breathlessly, nervously glancing around, your gaze landing on your answer to his question for half a second, turning away the second he looked at you. When you looked back at Jooheon he chuckled, very obviously understanding. You gave your best pleading look, begging him not to say anything, to which he thankfully nodded, handing you back your album. You prayed as you got up that Wonho wasn’t paying attention to your conversation, before finally sitting down in front of him.

“Hello, my name is Y/N,” you said politely.

“Wow! Your Korean is so good!” You laughed at his excited reaction. He was so cute, you could hardly stand it.

“Thank you.” You blushed as he smiled that smile that nearly made your heart stop. ‘It should be illegal to be this handsome,’ you thought.

“How long have you been speaking Korean?”

“Three years. I taught myself.” His jaw dropped with surprise.

“Wow! That’s awesome! I feel bad for not studying English harder now.” You laughed as he signed your album, pulling the bracelet you made for him out of your bag. The other members had loved them so far, but you were most nervous to give your bias his. Wonho looked at you curiously as you turned the bracelet over in your hand, his head tilted slightly to the side. “What’s that?” You had to remind yourself to breathe as you finally looked at him, and again when his hand lingered on yours as you handed him the bracelet.

“I-I m-made these for you guys,” you stuttered, struggling as your heartbeat raced out of control. “I added the initial to your first names to them, instead of your stage names. I hope that’s okay.” You were so nervous. He nodded, handing back your album with a smile. Your time with him was about up. Before you got up Wonho took your hands in his, staring into your eyes with the kindest expression, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” You were too stunned to reply so you just nodded, moving on to Hyungwon, who had a suspicious smile on his face that you immediately ignored.

Hyungwon was your bias wrecker, so it was almost as nerve wracking talking to him as it was to Wonho, but you managed better. He started off expressing his sympathies for your embarrassment that resulted from doing aegyo. Knowing how he gets doing it made you feel a little better about it. Like Minhyuk, Hyungwon tried to talk to you as much as possible, find out about you. But his questions were more current.

“How long (has this been going on. ... sorry. had to lol xD) are you staying in Korea?”

“One month. Well, actually, we’ve been here for two days already so slightly less than that.” He looked surprised at your answer, compelling you to explain that you had been dreaming of this trip for years. You wanted it to be one to remember. You talked for a few more minutes before he wished you luck. You made sure not to miss his high five before moving on to Kihyun.

Kihyun immediately apologized for Jooheon. He was another victim of aegyo, like Hyungwon, although he wasn’t always embarrassed by it. You talked about your plans for the rest of the week and he gave you recommendations on where to go. Unfortunately your five minutes with Kihyun flew by. It was a shame. Hopefully at the next fan meet you’d get to talk to him more.

Changkyun was very laid back, which you found very refreshing. It made you glad that he was the last one you were talking to. He helped you wind down from the excitement of the others. He also spoke completely in English, even though he knew how good your Korean is, which was nice of him. It was like talking to your best friend who you haven’t seen in a while. You almost cried when it was time to go back to your seat. Everyone was so nice. You wanted to stay. But others deserved to have the experience you just had, so you reluctantly got up and joined Y/F/N back in the fourth row.

The Q&A flew by pretty fast. A few random people were called on to ask the boys questions. After about half an hour they took questions from their Twitter. For the last hour they turned the radio on at a low volume and goofed around. Every once in a while you and Wonho would catch each others’ eyes at the same time, which resulted in you blushing and hiding your face when he wouldn’t look away. You knew you should worry about people noticing. There’s probably a chance you could both get in trouble if they did. But you knew this was they only time you’d get to see him so you didn’t worry about it too much.

On the way back to your hotel, you thought about the long and satisfying day you had. You already missed them, especially Wonho. Still lost in the dream, you even let yourself wonder if he missed you too.

“Aaaahhh,” Y/F/N sighed with pleasure as she collapsed on her bed. You turned away from your position at the window to yell at her.

“Yah! Don’t fall asleep yet, fool! Go take your makeup off first and change.” She sat up, rolling her eyes at you.

“I know! I was just thinking about Changkyun.”

“I bet.”

“Oh don’t pretend you weren’t just staring out at the city view longing for Wonho.” You laughed. She knew you too well. You were in the middle of taking off you own makeup when you got a text message from an unknown number on the phone you bought for while you were in Korea. Confused, you opened your messaging app, nearly dropping it when you saw who texted you.

It was Wonho.

[like-twilight]

I’m jus’ gon do this cause why not I stole it from Here.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

According to my last.fm in the last seven days: 1: ATEEZ: Wave 2: ATEEZ: Illusion 3: ATEEZ: Win 4: TxT: Run Away 5: ATEEZ: Precious 6: ATEEZ: Say My Name

Guys. I like Ateez.

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

My sister.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

Well I ain’t standin’ up so here’s line 17 from page 23 of Vale which is on my computer.

““Well then, Your Highness,” I say and crouch down, trying to get a look of her face”

4: What do you think about most?

Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad things.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

From a real person that’s not an automated message from a bank or a website it’s from my co-worker from October 26th that says “Ok I’ll do it, print it then I’ll replace it”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

Well. PJ’s are clothes so.

7: What's your strangest talent?

I don’t think I have any.

8: Girls... (finish the sentence); Boys... (finish the sentence)

Girls not allowed. Boys also not allowed. Leave me alone. (My nb friends can come tho.)

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

If I did then the creator didn’t tell me :”D

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

I... can’t recall.

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

Frogs.

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

Maybe as a baby?

13: What's your religion?

I don’t belieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

I’m not outside. But I’d probably be going to work or the store or the post office.

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Ateez!

17: What was the last lie you told?

“I’m okay!” #deep

18: Do you believe in karma?

god no!

19: What does your URL mean?

It’s a quote from Ateez’s Twilight.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

I’m very depressed. Strength is probably that I’m still alive? Idk

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Idk. Find a lot of famous people attractive I-? I Don’t have just like The Celebrity Crush. Jeong Yunho’s cute tho.

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

No.

23: How do you vent your anger?

I throw a temper tantrum.

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Just a mason jar of my tears. Also every Ateez album released so far.

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Neither! Fucking email me, bro.

26: Are you happy with the person you've become?

God no :D

27: What's a sound you hate; sound you love?

Ambulance sirens hate. Fuckin... panflute I love.

28: What's your biggest "what if"?

What if I was a... giraffe.? Or a tardigrade. 

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

I believe in things we can’t perceive scientifically or whatever. Not ghosts per se, like souls of dead people or whatever. Also yes to aliens.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Nothin I’m jus sittin on my bed. If I move my arms up and down a bit then my blanket and a bottle of water.

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

Nothin. Is just my room.

32: What's the worst place you have ever been to?

Uuuh a cemetery?

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

In America? Idk which is less racist in general?

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

What’s an “opposite” gender? I know you mean male but I refuse to give into the cISSEXIST SCUm. 

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

I have no idea what that means.

36: Define Art.

the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

37: Do you believe in luck?

Yes. But I’ve never been the lucky one unfortunately.

38: What's the weather like right now?

Uuuh I have to google it. Clear. 8°

39: What time is it?

21:30

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

No. But I probably would.

41: What was the last book you read?

Pfssssshhhh, one that wasn’t written by me? Fucks me, dude. Fault In Our Stars? The Death Cure? I can’t remember, it’s been years.

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yeah!

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Tia.

44: What was the last film you saw?

Uuuuuuuuhhh... UUUUHHHHHHHHH How to Train Your Dragon 3, it was nice.

45: What's the worst injury you've ever had?

Had a bleeding spine! Kinda miss it tbh.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

I probably haven’t tried, I’ve just tried to get them to land on me.

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

Uuuh I’m into Ateez these days.

48: What's your sexual orientation?

I’m byesexual.

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

Yes.

50: Do you believe in magic?

Again, I do believe things could exist we can’t scientifically explain but idk. Not in the Harry Potter magic way.

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

No, cause I believe everything is my fault.

52: What is your astrological sign?

Aries.

53: Do you save money or spend it?

I save money TO spend. I think I found a healthy balance.

54: What's the last thing you purchased?

A fukin... bike. That’s like in your room. Not by accident but because it’s meant to be there.

55: Love or lust?

Like.. in what context? Love? Idk.

56: In a relationship?

Love.

57: How many relationships have you had?

None relationships.

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

I can’t.

59: Where were you yesterday?

Like on average? Or 24 hours ago exactly. Cause I was at work for eight hours and then I was just on my bed.

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Yeah, my phone case.

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

Ye.

62: What's your favourite animal?

Cat? Idk.

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

:DDDD If I had any then people would like me.

64: Where is your best friend?

???? 

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

I... I dunno? The ones I follow?

66: What is your heritage?

I don’t know what that means. Like what I’m gonna be remembered by? I whined a lot!

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Cried.

68: What do you think is Satan's last name?

Choi.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Why would I lie about masturbation. Yeah I did.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Fuck no.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog, fuck off.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I am telling everyone. b) Be paralysed by fear and waste all of it. c) Yes, very much.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I feel like that’s stupid. 

74: What's a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Illusion by Ateez these days. 

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

4153

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

I wouldn’t know, buddy.

77: How can I win your heart?

Just be nice to me and I’ll probably be emotionally attached to you for life, sorry.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

I don’t think insanity is the cause for any creativity. If an insane person is creative then they would be creative with a sound mind too.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Got into kpop, that was nice.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

42

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“Balled 2 hard lol”

82: What is your favourite word?

There are too many words.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Kokoro.

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

I don’t think there is one.

85: What's the last song you listened to?

Treasure by Ateez.

86: Basic question; what's your favourite colour/colours?

Pink and yellow.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

A picture of.. Ateez... sorry.

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Donald Trump.

89: What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

Uh, I think I’m p truthful, yeah. Ask me anything.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Scream. Maybe scramble on the floor and push past them if I can.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Immortality!

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Oh geez. I was on a carousel in Italy once, that was awesome.

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

The one that gave me depression idk which one it was but can it go away?

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Ehh, I don’t want that. Like... I don’t know those people, they could be Awful in bed or just in general too. Like I need an emotional bond first and they don’t even know me and I only know the persona they show to the public. Plus it could potentially ruin the music for me later on, it’d be weird, no thank you.

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

UUUUUHHHHH I DUNNO Lyon cause Grenoble doesn’t have an airport. Well, actually my sister isn’t in Grenoble right now. Hm well if I grab my card before I go then I can just find a hotel there until she comes home.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

I don’t think so? 

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

I had to throw up in a car and then asked the driver to stop the car so I can throw up outside the car.

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes. Seven times. SEVEN TIMES? Yeah, holy shit.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Someone help me, I am so so so incredibly in need of help, please. Please. Thank you.

[kpoppernov-10]

Monsta X Concert Review

On Saturday 8/3/19, I went to the MONSTA X <WE ARE HERE> show at the Hulu Theater in NYC. After such a great concert last year, I was more than happy for my second Kpop concert to be at Monsta X’s next world tour. The fact that it was in NY instead of NJ made it even easier for me to attend. Plus, my brother joined me for this concert so it was nice to go to a Kpop event with someone. This year’s experience was a bit different from last year’s, but one thing that stayed consistent is that Monsta X put on a good show. 

There’s a lot to discuss, so I’ve broken down the concert experience into parts.

Pre-Concert

Tickets

As I mentioned in a previous post, getting a ticket took more work this year. There seems to have been a technical problem with the Powerhouse website but I was still able to get decent tickets. I think I was technically closer to the stage than I was last year, but I was more to the left of it so I wasn’t able to watch Monsta X from the center like last time. Nevertheless, I was in the front row of my section, so I was able to see and enjoy everything fairly well.

Venue

Although it was easier to get to this venue, it was nowhere near as nice as the New Jersey Performing Arts Center. For a place as famous as Madison Square Garden, the Hulu Theater is very basic with not much aesthetic at all—mostly just grey walls filled with (granted, comfy) seats. That’s not a big deal though since that aspect of the venue doesn’t really matter. But what does matter is the fact that the acoustics were lacking so the sound quality for this concert wasn’t as good as the rich, surround-sound-like experience of the NJPAC. It’s a shame that the venue had an unfortunate effect on the concert but oh well :/

Crowd

There was obviously a high percentage of young females but there seems to have been slightly more guys than before. There were very few older people attending this show and few Asian people in general, but I think the group was still diverse. The crowd waited patiently outside in the setting sun, and it was really nice to see two concertgoers dressed in Ongshimi Minhyuk outfits! The general check-in process was very organized but there was, understandably, much more security (metal detectors, bag x-rays and K-9 dogs) since this is NYC. Either way, everyone was seated and ready to go in no time thanks to all the helpful staff.

CONCERT

Although the concert was originally advertised to be at 8 PM, I found out only a few days earlier that it would actually be at 7 PM. But I guess most people got the memo because the place was pretty much full before the show started. There were some “false alarms” because a few things happened before everything officially began (e.g. the lights dimmed, a screen for the tour popped up and an Mnet ad appeared twice), but the show did start at approximately 7:10 PM. 

Stage/Audio/Visual

The main stage wasn’t that big and it was only one level, but there were multiple big screens that displayed things from different angles and used different effects. The screens enhanced the overall concert experience since I could watch close ups on side screens and also enjoy background visuals on the main screen. Like I said, the audio was not very good and sounded a bit low for some reason. It also seemed like the audio was only coming from the stage area instead of sound filling up the entire theater. Either way, the lighting was good and there were points during performances where stage lights changed colors, steam blew from the stage and confetti rained over part of the audience.

Videos

The show started with a really cool opening video that introduced the group/members. The other concert videos were also good and I actually think that this year’s video content was better than last year’s. Instead of a Monsta X party, they had “MonTube” that showed each member doing funny YouTube-style video clips that related to their personalities and interests. The other videos showed more scenes and details from the Alligator/Shoot Out era and they did a good job explaining the whole 7 Deadly Sins concept that they’ve pretty much had since their Beautiful era. Although I definitely enjoyed the videos for The Connect Tour, I still don’t quite know what they were really about. So Monsta X did a much better job at making their videos entertaining yet understandable this year. 

Talks

Monsta X talked throughout the concert in both English and Korean (with a translator), but they made a clear effort to speak more English this time. Although some members still struggle with English, you could hear how much other members improved (Kihyun’s English is now the second best in the group!) and most were able to speak more comfortably than last year. The most surprising part of the talks was when each member gave a little speech entirely in English at the end of the show. I honestly think they should’ve just let Shownu and Wonho speak Korean since it was so difficult for them to express themselves in a different language, but I appreciate the effort and I think their English will continue to improve with time.

Songs/Performances

Monsta X performed about 20 songs, plus they had special group acts and solos. There were more props for this concert which was a nice touch to their performances. As usual, everyone sounded good and the dancing was on point. I think their wardrobe was better than last year’s and their black and gold outfits were my favorite. They sang about half of the songs from each of their latest albums, some songs from The Connect mini album, but few (or even no) songs from the rest of their discography. I guess Monsta X is reaching a point in their career where their song collection has gotten so big that many great songs can’t be in their concerts simply due to time constraints. And the fact that they released two full length albums back-to-back made it even less likely that most of their older songs would be performed. Nevertheless, some of the missing songs were featured in the bgm of their videos and overall Monsta X picked a solid set list that included different styles, energies and moods for the concert.

I’m not a fan of the remix versions of Monsta X songs, but the 8-bit video screen for I’M’s part in Hero was really nice. They sang less title tracks but the new choreography for their non-title tracks was good (especially for Oh My). Minhyuk and Jooheon sang the Ongshimi chorus during one of the talks and it was funny when Jooheon sang and Wonho rapped another member’s part while performing. I was surprised that many of my favorite songs weren’t in the concert, but it was good seeing less/non-promoted songs live. The solo performances were a real treat since I enjoyed Jooheon's drum solo and Hyungwon’s DJ stage was one of the best parts of the show. 

Conclusion

Overall, it was great to see Monsta X again. Unlike last year, I had to stand up most of the time so I could see, but thankfully I didn’t lose my voice or get dehydrated because I learned my lesson from my first concert :P. There was actually more humor in this show than last year so it was fun to enjoy music and laugh throughout the evening. I hope everyone had a wonderful time, and I’m glad that the rest of the world tour was a success. Monsta X, fighting!

For more details about the concert, keep reading :)

Intro video

Shoot Out, Hero (remix), Trespass (remix)

Intro talk

Kihyun screams hits a high note that makes him cough

It was really funny/cute when Minhyuk was like “Did you miss us? Did you miss ME?? Did you miss Wonho?”

Party Time, Play It Cool

Talk + Kihyun asks us to sing the chorus of Play It Cool’s English version

Mohae, Jealousy

MonTube video

Shownu - ASMR mukbang

Wonho - Fitness

Minhyuk - Makeup

Kihyun - Coffee

Hyungwon- Fashion

Jooheon - Cooking (makes a Honeyto burrito)

I.M. - English class 

Group Performances 

Kihyun, Minhyuk, & Hyungwon -  Bazzi’s Myself

Jooheon & I.M hip hop song + Jooheon plays the drums

Wonho & Shownu - Mirror (made by Wonho)

Talk about songs

Jooheon & I.M messed up the bottle flip during their performance so they tried again but still failed :P Hyungwon was the one who was able to do it. (Note: They didn’t get around to talking about their song, but according to @KUnnies_on Twitter it’s called 삼박자)

Honestly, Noel Hada, Sweetheart

Talk

No Reason

7 Deadly Sins Movie 

This was a very interesting video because it clearly showed which sin each member was portraying: wrath (Shownu), sloth (Wonho), agony (Minhyuk), loneliness (Kihyun), pride (Hyungwon), greed (Jooheon), and envy (I.M.). Even though I already knew/figured out most of this already, the reason why I wasn’t sure about some of them is because they replaced lust and gluttony with agony and loneliness, which are more emotions than actual sins. 

It’s nice that the video officially clarified all this because I thought Minhyuk was lust since many of his scenes in MVs had roses in them and Kihyun was gluttony since all the formula-filled images related to him made it seem that he was a glutton for knowledge or something (or maybe Wonho was gluttony because he ate an apple in an MV?). Either way, their concept makes more sense now :)

Who Do You Love, Dramarama

Talk

Oh My, Special, Fallin’

Talk + them acting like this was the end of the show :P

Alligator, H.One’s DJ performance, Rodeo

Real Goodbye/Closing (mostly done in English)

By My Side

Group picture, Wonho’s shirt toss, final bows

Credits with behind the scenes footage