#love looking at the lyrics to some of the metal i listen to and its some flowery bullshit

[corvidexoskeleton]

The average taylor swift fan who thinks her lyrics are profound and exemplary would shit themselves to death if they listened to the lyrics of some black metal

[mcondance]

an “i love you” that isn’t words

Spencer’s love for you is evident all around you.

warnings & notes the rumors are true i love tøp and spencer reid! anyways fluff but still MDNI 18+, title from shy away by twenty øne piløts, do not listen as you read. inspired by the lyric it’s titled after. real freaks only (people who love love), reader may or may not be autistic i don’t know if you feel it you feel it! reader is a bit shorter than spencer, writing fluff is becoming less and less out of character for mcondance

1.1k words (what…….)

Spencer’s apartment is still, save for the solitary body making its way from room to room. Music floats from his turntable— you remember having to tell him to store his records vertically. Even that super mind of his didn’t contain the knowledge of what happens to records if they’re stacked on top of each other. So he stood them up, and he made room for your records as your collection slowly began to find a new home. 

The desk by the door is littered with both yours and his papers, and trinkets that belong to both you and him, Spencer’s lamp, and a really weird looking lamp you got off EBay more than a few years back.

One of your blankets is thrown over the back of the couch, infusing some color into the deep browns and reds of his living room. The small table in front of the couch holds your tattered copy of the book you’ve been reading since you were 12 years old. It looks like something you can’t describe, something that’s been with you for a decade now lying on your boyfriend’s table. Poetic, maybe.

Your stacks of books have long since married with his. To anyone else, it’d look like a library, but to you both it’s not enough, not enough. 

“We’re gonna have to rent a storage building,” you deadpan, staring up at the ceiling in bed.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting his head fall toward where you lay beside him. “But what if there’s a book we want to read but it’s in the storage building? Then we’d have to drive over just to get it—”

“And we’d get distracted like we always do so we’d be there for hours.”

“It’s unproductive.”

“Horribly so.”

You’re not sure who breaks the faux-formality first. Either way, you both end up laughing with sparkling eyes fixed on each other, and a giggled agreement to just let the books continue to pile up. 

“I wouldn’t mind living in a library,” is what Spencer tells you after he’s caught his breath.

In the bathroom there’s room for yours and his body wash. Your toothbrush sits next to his in a brown mug with a funky design on it, one you brought in your move. Along the side of the sink lay your hair products, arranged neatly. Two towels hang from a spiraling rack you bought at an antique shop a few months after you moved in. 

“Spencer, look!” You exclaim, clearing the small space in less steps than it’d usually take you. He follows quickly, pressing his chest to your back as he looks over your shoulder and gives his attention to the metal rack. 

“We can put it in the bathroom, maybe. If that’s fine with you,” you suggest, turning to face him. It seems like his eyes are ever melting when you’re in his line of sight, but somehow they melt further when you turn. His arms wrap around you and pull you close, encasing you in the kind of warmth you get when you step out of the cold into a heated building, shivering but grateful to be out of the frigid temperature. It’s reminiscent of how it felt to actually step into the shop. 

“If you want to, then we’re going to.” 

“Yay,” you smile, before you kiss him shortly. He smiles back, glowing eyes soft and smooth, and kisses you authentically, and not so deeply as to be inappropriate in public, but still enough that you distantly think your legs might buckle. 

The bedroom is a portmanteau of you and Spencer. Your plushes sleep soundly on your side of the bed, and at night they watch quietly from their perch on the table on the other side of your night stand. Your stand matches Spencer’s, so heart-flutteringly you’re sure teenage-you would jump up and down and screech. Scattered upon your nightstand are a couple of half-drunk bottles of water, your vitamins, various necklaces and rings, a couple of books stacked on top of each other, and a drawing Spencer made for you. 

Spencer’s side is a bit less packed, but still unorganized nonetheless. Books (of course), a journal and a pen (you’ve gotten him into journaling as a way to regulate himself when he’s feeling overwhelmed), and when he comes home later tonight his watch will join the rest of his things.

One side of the closet is yours, and the other is Spencer’s. While his style seems wacky to other people, there’s a couple of pieces on either side of the closet that have a sibling on the other side. The clothes that can’t fit in the closet are folded in the dresser drawers. 

The dresser is decorated with a couple of your CDs, the ones you like to see when you’re in the room. Necklaces and rings plucked from various antique and thrift stores are spread over the cherry-tinted wood, mixed in with some of Spencer’s cologne, a tie or two he hasn’t hung up yet, and a bag of candy you’ve both been eating out of. 

Your trinkets mix with his, a display of two people who spend way too much time sifting through shelves in places full of dust and the smell that is unique to antique shops.

“Jesus, why do these shops always smell like that,” you whisper as you enter the store.

“Everything in here is most likely, at the least, over 50 years old. Most older things are made of natural fabrics like linen, cotton, wood— you know, stuff like that— that are extremely good at absorbing smells. I’m sure our clothes now will have a unique smell that people down the line will have the exact same reaction to.”

You smile, and you think your eyes are about as wide as a saucer, that little look of pining you always take on when he talks like that. It’s not your fault, really, he’s just so nerdy and you love his rants so much. 

“I can tell you more about it while we shop,” he offers. 

“Uh, duh,” you answer, looking between him and a cute tie you think he’d like.

In the kitchen cabinet, your bowl is freshly cleaned, as Spencer washed it before he left this morning. Ever the pattern-recognizer, he picked up on your attachment quite quickly and has made that accommodation for you ever since. You’ll use other bowls if you have to, but you haven’t had to for months. 

The record finishes. You pick another one out of your section of the collection, and play that one. Coincidentally, it’s one of your favorites that became one of Spencer’s favorites after you played it for him. One happily and gratefully became two.

[steddieas-shegoes]

oh, that's why

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is showing up when someone doesn't ask'

rated t | 1,533 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, realizing feelings, love confessions, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Eddie was nervous.

He hadn't bothered mentioning Corroded Coffin's first show back to anyone except Wayne, didn't want anyone he knew to see him stumble over chords and lyrics with nerves he'd never had before Vecna. The guys didn't really say anything, but they'd casually suggested some slower songs mixed in to give him a break during the set. They just seemed to know that he didn't have the stamina anymore.

It's not like the Hideout was Madison Square Garden, but news had spread amongst the locals about Eddie's return to the stage and people must have gotten curious. The bar was busier than Eddie'd ever seen it, people lined up against the tiny stage and filling the tables spread out around the room. Every stool at the bar was filled, the door constantly opening to welcome someone new with a chilly breeze from the fall air.

"Hey, man. You ready?" Gareth's hand on his shoulder was meant to be comforting, but all it did was remind him of how much everyone in the crowd probably wanted to watch him fail.

"Yep," Eddie breathed out.

It was fine. This would just be another show, maybe not the best they've ever had, but they did fine during practice. He was fine.

There was no announcement for them, there never was. The bar owner and the main bartender pretty much only invited them back because the regulars would order double the amount of drinks when they performed.

The lights were already dimmed in the bar, and the spotlight stayed on on the stage all night.

It wasn't anything special, but it still felt like a step towards more.

The crowd was loud, and barely paid them any attention during Jeff's introduction.

They started playing Master of Puppets, a shorter version without the solo since Eddie still struggled getting through it without having a panic attack. It was part of "reclaiming his trauma" or whatever the government appointed therapist told him on his second and final visit.

He took the first minute to really look out at the crowd, passed the obnoxious spotlight.

Most of the people were unrecognizable, dressed a lot like Wayne, but lacked the friendly smile he gave him when he managed to make it to his shows. He saw a few people he knew from his first two senior years hanging by the back, probably trying not to be noticed by him.

And then he saw him.

Steve.

His fingers skipped over the strings, missing a note and then two, though only his band and maybe the bartender would notice.

Steve smiled back at him, mouthed 'lookin' good', and gave him a thumbs up.

How did Steve even know about this? None of the other guys had told him, he begged them not to, made them pinky swear that they wouldn't invite anyone they knew for the first show.

Eddie smiled back at him still, happy that Steve was here, realizing now that a friendly face was the only way he would get through this set. He should have told them all.

Most of the set went surprisingly well, and most of the crowd seemed content to watch and sing along. Only a few people walked out when they realized it was mostly metal music, but he figured they weren't really there for any music at all. Watching the freak was the only entertainment a lot of people had in this town.

Steve was nodding his head, nursing the same beer for the entire hour they were on stage, smiling every time Eddie made eye contact with him. He seemed to be enjoying it, despite his usual refusal to listen to any of Eddie's music.

When they got off the stage, Eddie rushed to Steve, not even bothering to put his guitar back in its case first. Most of the crowd had gone outside or settled around the bar anyway, so his sweetheart would be safe.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie bounced on his toes, adrenaline pumping after a successful show. "I didn't tell anyone about this."

"Wayne mentioned it by accident. He assumed you'd asked me to come," Steve shrugged. He didn't seem hurt about not being invited, thankfully, but Eddie still felt guilt bully its way into his chest.

"Sorry. I just wanted to get the first one done before I had anyone here," Eddie nudged his hand. "But thanks for coming. I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I did too. I'll always be here if you need me, Eds."

It sounded serious, less like what friends do and more like what love does.

"How do you always know what I need?" Eddie couldn't help asking. "It's like I think I'm fine, but then you're there with a glass of water because I haven't remembered to drink all day. Or like tonight, when I thought I could do it on my own, but played much better because you were here."

"I just know you," Steve smiled.

"Wait," Eddie started thinking back to all the times Steve was there. All the times he would show up at the trailer after work to make dinner, not knowing that Eddie had been feeling lonely. All the times he sat next to him on the couch while he planned out Hellfire campaigns because he needed someone to bounce ideas off of who wouldn't be involved. All the times he had to brave the general public and Steve always managed to find a reason to be right by his side, silently protective. "Wait."

"I'm waiting," Steve said. And was he sounding smug? What was that smile on his face? "How long am I supposed to wait?"

"I didn't ask you to be here."

"That's true. You didn't even tell me you'd be here."

"I never ask you to come over. Or go places with me. Or anything."

"You do sometimes," Steve argued.

"Wait."

Steve's lips pinched together, but a smirk was starting to tease its way onto his face.

"You're here because you want to be. Because you knew I'd be a mess and would actually want someone here even though I didn't tell anyone. Because you're always there when I need someone even when I don't admit I do. Because you care about me."

"Love, actually."

Eddie stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"You said I care about you. Duh, of course I do. But I actually love you."

"Like...the way you love Robin?"

"No. Like the way I thought I loved Nancy. But with you it's more. It's way more, Eds."

Eddie was grateful for the dim lighting and Jeff's sudden appearance by his shoulder.

"Eddie! We fuckin' nailed it! I signed an autograph for a girl who knows my name!" He yelled before he noticed Steve. "Oh, hey Steve. Enjoy the show?"

"You all did great, man. Glad you're back out there," Steve reached out to grab his shoulder, a friendly gesture that Jeff wasn't expecting judging by his face. "Need any help loading up?"

"Uh. No. I was actually gonna let Eddie know Gareth's dad came by to help bring all our stuff home so we don't need his van." Jeff gave them both a knowing look, then smacked Eddie's shoulder and smiled. "See you tomorrow!"

Eddie waved at him, still in shock from everything Steve had said before Jeff interrupted.

"You should probably put her in her case, Eds," Steve gestured to the guitar still slung across his back. "People aren't that careful in a bar."

"Wait."

"You've said that a lot tonight."

"Because I'm having a stroke or something. I'm having a very lucid dream. Or maybe I got too high." Eddie shook his head and pinched his own arm. "You love me."

"That's what I said, yeah."

"And you meant it?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

Eddie still felt like he might be dreaming, but he decided to lean into it. If Steve loved him, then that meant-

"Wait."

"Oh my God," Steve groaned, but he was smiling. "What now?"

"I love you, too."

"Yeah? You just figure that out?" Steve definitely sounded smug now.

"Yes! I thought I just had this stupid crush on my straight friend. Sorry I didn't realize the way my stomach does cartwheels when you're next to me meant I loved you!"

They both started laughing.

"So, that's why you were staring at me like that at the pool," Steve finally said through his laughter.

"And that's why you asked me to read to you when you had a migraine," Eddie crossed his arms across his chest to avoid doing what he really wanted to do: pull Steve into the most John Hughes-esque first kiss ever.

"We should probably get out of here," Steve said when he recognized Eddie's twitching fingers fighting to not reach out. "Don't think anyone here would like it too much if I made out with you next to the bar."

"Give me two minutes. I'll meet you outside."

Their actual first kiss was just as John Hughes-esque, but it was in the privacy of Eddie's bedroom, and immediately followed by Steve pushing him against his own door and dropping to his knees.

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus with a goth and metalhead reader. Reader is female. Fluff.

TFP Optimus x Fem!Goth/Metalhead!Reader

Heyy so this was pretty cute to write. I had come up with a couple different ideas but I went with something simple and took creative liberty. I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: None, Fluff, reader is human.

Word Count: 1,259

'There's no escape from the thoughts inside my head,

Dark days has taken the best of me,

I can't go on like this.'

Sliding the volume bar up, you relax into the stained lounge not currently occupied with kids bickering for player one. They can be pestering at best. However, you love them a lot, especially Miko. That little rockstar has wiggled her way under your skin more than you would've liked. You can't count how often she's come to you with a new metal song she wanted to destroy your eardrums with, in a good way, much to the chagrin of the rest of Team Prime.

So when your fellow metalhead friend goes home with a big smile on her face and the second guitar she's broken this week, you take the opportunity to relax with your own music. With added earbuds, of course.

'Can you turn back time,

To change what you have done?

To shape who you become?'

Shutting your eyes, you let the rolling drums and metallic melodies flood your senses, the lyrics soothing you better than any therapist you could throw money at.

'DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUUUUU-'

Tap tap.

"GAHH!"

After nearly giving the base a new emergency exit via a Y/n-shaped hole through the roof, you rip off your earbuds to glare daggers at exactly who tapped you on the shoulder in your mid-maladaptive daydreaming.

A very concerned, slightly mortified Optimus Prime stares at you right back.

You have now exceeded your yearly quota for embarrassment in the span of five seconds.

"Oh! Optimus, sorry I-" You fumble for your phone that went airborne to the other side of the lounge, quickly pausing your music and clearing your throat, "Sorry, is there something I can... do for you?"

Optimus recovers from your sudden outburst and clears his vocalizer, "Nothing to be concerned about," He pauses, "I think... but I couldn't help but overhear music coming from your small device."

"Oh, these?" You show him your earbuds, heavily used and on its last string of wire, "Yeah, that's what they're used for. Personalised music only you can listen to from, called earphones."

"Ah, a device that recognises its user," Optimus says confidently, "Would it still be functional if another were to use it?"

"Uh, no," You hold back a soft chuckle. Optimus may be an eons-old robot, but it seems he still has much to learn about human culture, "I phrased that wrong. It sends music directly into your ears. Not only does it sound better, but it's more... respectful to the people around you."

Optimus seemed to understand that, nodding and leaning in to get a closer look at the magical, elusive earphones, "Hm, I see. How interesting, I am not sure if Cybertron ever had these."

You're unsure if you should explain the crucial 'ear' part, but then again, you also had some things to learn about Cybertronians.

"Maybe," You say, giving him an unsure smile, "Would you... like to try them out? I'm not sure how they will fit because, y'know, ears."

The mech perks up at your offer, seeming interested in something other than having a candle-lit dinner and wine with his datapad.

"If you allow me," Optimus holds out a servo, "I would be grateful for the opportunity."

God, he's so sweet. It's like you asked him to accompany you to a high school dance, except it's not. He wants to try out earphones.

"I am sure they will be fine. My comlink had previously been modified to accommodate external inputs."

You smile sheepishly. That's a good enough answer and one you were hoping for. You move from the lounge to step onto Optimus' outstretched servo, and now you realise that you've never actually been held by Optimus. You know he's big, but suddenly becoming inches close to his faceplates and getting a feel for the mech's true size has your mind spinning.

And this piece of heavy metal that holds you like a delicate flower is about to experience true heavy metal.

Optimus studies you for a moment longer, and his optics finally get a proper, up-close look at your unique style, "You look quite... different from the others. Before proceeding with this 'personalised' experience, may I ask why?"

That shouldn't have made your face flush, but it did. Questionable choice of wording, but he's right. You do have a different style even compared to Miko. Instead of colourful streaks of pink and the brash early two thousand' get-up, you chose to adorn yourself with all-black clothing and absolutely no bold colours in your hair. Even your make-up, black lipstick, and harsh eyeliner that would make a Christian mother weep. Optimus would undoubtedly question why you chose a different way of representing yourself.

"Well, I'm sure it's strange to you," You begin, trying to ignore how high off the ground you are, "But it's another way for humans to express themselves. It's more of an aesthetic of sorts, but a way of life for others. I guess you could compare it to Cybertronians choosing their alt modes."

Optimus nods, absorbing the new knowledge like a sponge. For some reason, that was easier to explain than the earphones.

"Ah, so it is a distinct way to present yourself to others—an identity of sorts. We Cybertronians are quite limited in our own modifications, partly due to the war." The mech reaches his other servo to your hair, toying with the ends to admire the softness, "I do not find that strange at all that you would choose to modify yourself this way. It's rather endearing and unique; I admire that about your species."

"That's..." Your cheeks flush once again as you watch him play with your hair, "Kind of sweet." You give him a soft smile, touching his servo near your head. He makes eye contact with you, and that's when your breath hitches, and you clear your throat, "But it's not just clothes or... or other mods we can use - we can use music too."

Optimus nods his helm in familiarity, "Yes, I have become aware of that. Miko can be quite the musician." You're unsure if he's saying that to be polite or if he genuinely means it.

"Yeah, I've been trying to teach her, I promise." You chuckle softly, as does he. You continue, unconsciously gripping his servo, "But music is the pathway to the soul, at least for me. It can help me think and even untangle my emotions or just let them be and only soothe. It helps me live in the moment. Like a... a therapist, if that makes sense."

The Prime seems to have connected the dots, "That is why you spend most of your time resting on the couch listening to your music?" Optimus realises his impudence towards you earlier when he startled you, "I see. I apologise for interrupting your therapy earlier; that was rather brash of me."

God, no, he is exceeding unprecedented levels of sweetness now. His optics' soft, apologetic look nearly obliterates you, thinking he had legitimately interrupted a therapy session.

"No, no, Optimus," You suppress a laugh, "It's okay, really. It's a figure of speech. It feels like therapy. Sometimes it's better."

Optimus exhales a gentle sigh, "Apologies. You humans have such expressive figures of speech I have yet to catch onto."   

"It's alright. Now, speaking of therapy." You try to hide your ever-growing affection for him and retract your hand, holding up one end of the small earbud, "How about that personalised experience?"

[yandere-romanticaa]

Here are some crumbs about yandere mortician! From now on, his name is Viktor. (I'll make a detailed post about him, his personality, looks later, I promise.)

masterlist.

Viktor can often be seen with headphones in his ears, his expression neutral and eyes glazed over with a sheen of nothingness. When he's spotted in public people want to give him the benefit of doubt and say he's just lost in his own world, consumed by the sound of music. Perhaps he's just so in tune with the lyrics, maybe they speak to him on a level which people often seek out when listening to music. His playlist is filled with all sorts of songs - be it long ballads, cheesy love songs, generic pop, heavy metal, screamo, classical music, frankly some songs you wouldn't even expect someone like him wouldn't even listen at all(a la WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion).

Even while working, Viktor likes to have something playing in the background. His co-workers often joke about his music taste but he just shrugs them off without saying anything. It's all just a rollercoaster, a complete mess but he likes it that way. It's fun to be on his toes.

Truthfully, Viktor never liked music. He never bothered paying attention to the lyrics nor the meaning or even the tune of the song.

He simply can't stand the silence.

Viktor is a walking contradiction - he dislikes most people and yet wishes to be a part of them. He wants to be someone. But he doesn't know how to do that. His way of coping became listening to music. He even learned to play some instruments growing up, thinking that maybe someone would take a liking to him.

Even so, no one bothered with him. He was still a nobody.

Some did admire him, from a safe distance at least. His aura was black as charcoal and posture stiff as a board. Even if one dared to look at him for too long it felt like Viktor would pluck their eyes out if he caught them looking.

Perhaps he would. He wasn't sure either.

The sounds had no meaning to him. It was all used to cover up the silence, pure white noise. Nothing more, nothing less.

All of that came to a screeching halt once he met you, his tiny piece of sunshine.

You'd go through his playlist, sometimes scoffing, sometimes liking the things you saw. His eccentric side never failed to amuse you. Amongst that jungle you'd ask him who his favorite artists were, if he had anyone specific he liked.

Viktor said the names of some random artists he thought you fancied yourself. He wanted you to like him.

His answer ultimately did not matter in the end as you would still recommend some of your own personal favorite songs to him. Viktor promised he'd give them a listen as soon as he could.

Later that evening, he was hard at work. As he was putting on his coat he turned towards his phone and reached towards it, slightly eager to see what you had in store for him. The song played quietly in the background as gently rain tapped against the window, giving the morgue a more tranquil feel than it ought to have. The person on his table tonight was an old man who presumably died of a heart attack earlier this morning.

Poor soul. That was all he could bother to say.

The evening went on as it usually did but Viktor could not stop thinking about you. His sweet little sunshine, he was so touched by the fact that you bothered to go so far for him. He could feel his heart racing as unfamiliar butterflies started to flutter in his chest.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

If he wasn't careful he would be the next one to die of a heart attack.

The music got a bit louder as it reached the chorus, its tune almost perfectly in sync with his heart. He hadn't even realized that he started to sway his hips gently. Left, right, left right.

It felt like the correct thing to do.

Viktor also picked up the sound of a male voice humming which was odd, considering the fact that the singer of the song was a woman. He nearly dropped his scalpel as he realized that the one who was humming was him, not someone else, him.

For the first time in his life, Viktor bothered to pay attention to the song. The singer detailed her undying feelings for her lover, promising herself to them and them only.

Viktor thought about you the entire time. He never fancied himself as a dancer but if he could, he would want nothing more than to dance with you.

Would you want to dance with him?

For the first time in his life, Viktor found joy in the music he listened to. And it was all thanks to his sunshine.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince

[helluvaoutlaw]

Gimme Shelter

((( Warning: The song Striker is singing in this post contains sensitive content. )))

Under the dim, smoky lights of the Sugar Buzzed club, Striker stood on the small, worn stage, gripping his electric guitar. Usually filled with vibrant neon hues, the club had dimmed its lights tonight to recreate a Wrathian country blues atmosphere. The crowd, a mix of regulars and curious newcomers, buzzed with anticipation. Striker's outfit was a blend of vintage charm and rugged style:

Brown trousers, black suspenders, an old mauve-colored shirt with its sleeves rolled up, and a black vest that completed the ensemble. He was enjoying a cigar while arranging his guitar and giving time to the other musicians to prepare themselves.

The two Hellhound vocalists (recommended by Queen Bee herself), were more than excited to perform with him, given the two girls were giggling and whispering to each other, probably commenting his physique.

He adjusted the microphone stand, its metal frame barely reflecting the subdued glow. The club’s atmosphere was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and the low hum of conversation.

He drew one last smoke from the cigar, before putting it out in a metal ashtray.

The cowboy nodded at the rest of the group, before starting to play.

Striker's fingers danced across the guitar strings, coaxing out a raw, soulful riff that immediately quieted the crowd.

"Ooooh, a storm is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

If I don't get some shelter,

Ooh yeah, I'm gonna fade away...

Waaar, children,

it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away."

His voice, deep and gritty, cut through the room as he began to sing a blues rock tune, each word dripping with emotion and authenticity.

"Ooooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Myyy very street today

Buuurns like a red coal carpet,

Mad bull lost its way...

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The guitar came alive, electrifying the room. Striker's skills were evident in every note, his fingers moving with precision and passion.

"Look out!

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Raaaape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away..."

The crowd swayed and nodded, some with eyes closed, lost in the music. The rhythm section backed him with a steady, driving beat that resonated in the chest of every listener.

The vocalists were doing a splendid job, enhancing the feeling of the song with their honeyed voices.

"Ooooh the floods is threat'ning

Myyy very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter!

Or I'm gonna fade away..."

Striker’s performance was a blend of raw talent and heartfelt emotion, the kind that left an indelible mark on everyone present.

True, the song wasn't exactly a cheerful one, but he didn't care. They came to feel the true Wrathian spirit tonight, which was anything but sweet and joyful.

It was crude, merciless and painful, delivering the harsh truth of life.

"Waaar, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

I tell you love, sister,

it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

Kiss away, kiss away..."

His voice rose and fell, his eyes closed as he sang every lyric with ardor, his mind miles away.

As the final notes echoed through the club, the audience erupted into applause, the sound filling the small space with a wave of appreciation.

Striker grinned, nodded, and thanked the public, letting the band to take care of providing ambience music as he left the stage to get a drink.

He would've sang again a bit later, but for now he just wanted to enjoy a glass of bourbon.

(((Song: )))

(((Art belongs to: )))

[radioactivegummyworm]

EMO vs MALL EMO vs SCENE vs SCENECORE

i see a lot of confusion and arguments around what is emo/scene or not so i wanted to make this blog as a fan of most of these genres to hopefully help clarify a little!

EMO this genre is the ORIGINAL emo, although it sounds completely different from the emo music most people know today. it originated in the DC hardcore scene in the mid-80s, spawning from post-hardcore and hardcore and gained more popularity in the 90s. bands include: rites of spring, sunny day real estate, moss icon, cap'n jazz, the get up kids,

if you want to listen to some emo music, here's a spotify playlist i recommend!

MALL EMO mall emo is what most people think of when they hear the word emo. i call it mall emo (not sure if others do or not but i think it's most fitting) because it's the bands whose merch you would find somewhere like hot topic or spencer's(not a dig at mall emo i love this genre so much). it's the music genre(s) associated with the emo style and gained a ton of popularity in the 2000s. bands include my chemical romance, falling in reverse, all time low, panic! at the disco, fall out boy, paramore, pierce the veil, sleeping with sirens, evanescence, escape the fate, flyleaf, taking back sunday etc.

here's a playlist (i know it says actual emo music, i think they mean actual mall emo music as opposed to like yungblud + tx2 type shit)

IMPORTANT TO NOTE: EMO AND MALL EMO ARE NOT THE SAME THING!!!!! however, getting mad at someone for thinking mall emo is real emo is kind of pointless. because of the popularity of the emo style, the word has evolved to more assosciated with mall emo in pop culture than real emo. most people don't know the difference and that's not like a personal failing on their part that you need to be rude about! if/when you explain it to someone, be respectful! i'm looking at you, garrett!

SCENE scene is a subculture within emo, with its own more colorful version of the same fashion elements, that gained popularity in the late 2000s/early 2010s. there are a lot of different music genres within the scene subculture but the ones people most think of is crunkcore, which is a mix between electronic, hiphop, rap, and metal. bands include: dot dot curve, ismfof, attack attack!, millionaires, brokencyde, metro station, the medic droid, kill paradise, chunk! no captain chunk!, jj demon, breathe carolina, 3OH!3 etc

SCENECORE scenecore is a subgenre of hyperpop that originated on tiktok. it uses the aesthetic of the scene subculture a lot, and scene related things are often mentioned in the songs. however, the difference between scene lyrics and scenecore lyrics is that while scene music mostly has lyrics about sex, drugs, love, partying, clubbing etc scenecore lyrics are oftentimes about self harm or other harmful behavior or weirdly fetishize scene people. this is a problem because it's essentially just harmful stereotypes about scene trying to perpetuate itself as actual scene music. bands include: 6arelyhuman, kets4eki, odetari, rebzyyx, d3r, asteria, luvwillow, etc.

here's a playlist

IMPORTANT TO NOTE: SCENECORE IS NOT IN ANY WAY SCENE. scenecore isn't even related to the scene style like mall emo is, it's just hyperpop! if you want to get into scene, do your research!! listen to recommendations from actual scene kids!! 6arelyhuman is not scene!!!!!

[tokiwarcube]

This is gonna be so random, but can we get dethklok headcanons of how they'd react to their s/o being a ghoul/ghoulette in Ghost, please? 😶

Less random than you'd think, actually! This prompt in particular was actually written with a ghoul/ette reader in mind, although it wasn't explicitly stated. I'm actually a huge Ghost fan, myself! Bonus points to anyone who can ID me in the movie, LMAO

I do encourage reading This one for a bit more instrument/element specifics, but regardless, do enjoy!

Nathan Explosion

Despite his fame, Nathan keeps his personal life a secret from the media — or well, as best as he can as one of the most famous men in the world. So in that sense, he kind of admires the anonymity you maintain. Or at least used to maintain, anyways.

He’s gotten sucked into the metal vs. not metal debate, and before seeing you perform, he absolutely lies on the latter half of the debate. But holy shit, talk about stage presence. He’s very proud of where Dethklok stands in a concert sense — seeing Dethklok is truly, a completely unforgettable experience — but Ghost is just… Brutal.

Performance-wise, he likes Year Zero the most — the first time he saw flames erupting over the stage, bathing you in hues of orange and white absolutely took his breath away. Any song where you get to shine is a favorite of his as well.

His favorite song overall is a toss up between Year Zero and Elizabeth, though. He likes the lyrical imagery of both, and really, what metal performer doesn’t have a soft spot for an song about Elizabeth Bathory?

He gets a bit jealous if you’re a little flirty on stage, especially because he can’t just swoop in to make his place clear, but he works through it.

He’s a little obsessed with the Era V outfits — don’t be too surprised if he gets a bit handsy when the mask comes off. Or before.

He fucking hates Plushia with a passion — he is convinced that its cursed, and will not allow him in the house.

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles LOVES Ghost once you introduce him, and not just because you’re in it. The very fun, in-your-face sexuality that comes with rituals is right up his alley, and the musical niche they fall into with regards to genre is just… Listen, he loves the heavy shit, but rock will always have a place in his heart.

Impera enjoyer till the end of his days. His favorite live song is Watcher in the Sky, both for the vibes and for how crazy you’re allowed to be on stage; however, he’s also rather partial to Mary on a Cross, for obvious reasons. It’s not his favorite musically, but he does think that the bit Papa does live is funny as fuck.

Assuming you’re a ghoul with a bit of movement, he likes to hang out with security so he can hit his vape and shotgun you from below. There are MANY videos of this circulating online, and you’ve gotta admit — it’s pretty hot. Sometimes he’ll indulge the rest of the ghouls if they try to jump on the train — he’s not greedy. Also, its funny.

He likes to suggest silly little bits to incorporate into future shows — whether or not they actually get through review is another thing, but he’s got some good ideas. He doesn’t mind if you get a bit flirty on stage either — hell, he thinks it’s hot as fuck, truth be told.

He always steals mummy bucks out of the cannons before they go off. Puts it in a money clip and everything, the bastard.

He thinks the military outfit is hot as hell, but also. You do look like a bug. And he won’t hesitate to rib you about it every now and then.

Misses Cowbell Ghoul every day of his life.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

He loves how camp Ghost is — all of the bits really make the show fun, and he loves that humor is incorporated so well. After catching enough of your Rituals, he starts bugging Nathan to incorporate some sort of spin off the “go fuck yourself” bit, and let me tell you, he’s CLOSE to getting his way.

He absolutely made fun of you when the Era V outfits got revealed… and never stopped. He loves the Era III and IV outfits so much more all around, and will never let them go. (I’m so sure that he’d like it more if he could see past the mask, but he just can’t. Quit staring at him with them big ole eyes!!!)

He still insists on tightening the bolo for you before you go on stage, though. And he secretly saves all of the gifs and videos of you on stage to watch when he misses you. So… maybe the mask does grow on him a little bit, loathe as he is to admit it.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but he 100% develops this weird, pretty one-sided rivalry with Dew. Is it because of the man beneath the mask? Is it some weird lead guitarist thing? Is it because he gets to work with you on stage, and Skwisgaar doesn’t? He’ll never tell you, but either way, he shoots some vile glares his way whenever you two interact on-stage.

There’s one particular video of Dew flashing the “you suck” sticker at him, and Skwis just glaring up a storm in response.

His favorite songs to hear live are either Mummy Dust or Cirice, and he always tries to coax you over to flirt with him a bit… and he’s usually successful He might be in the crowd at barrier, but he’s managed to cement himself as a staple of every ritual. Go figure.

(People online always complain about the giant at barrier though, please convince him to hang with security under the guise of sneaking kisses or something. People are So Sick of his tall ass, even if he does add to the show.)

Toki Wartooth

Ghost ticks so many boxes for Toki, so needless to say, he is ecstatic that you get to work with such a cool act!

His favorite album is a hard tie between Opus Eponymous and Prequelle, funnily enough. The former reminds him of his early days in metal, but he loves the overall vibes of Prequelle — very hard to choose between the two, for him.

After you introduced him to Ghost through your work, he actually delved a bit deeper, and got obsessed with Repugnant. He 100% prods you into prodding Mr. Toblerone Frog into doing more death metal stuff.

He absolutely makes bracelets to trade with fans — getting a bracelet made by Toki quickly becomes as legendary as getting a ghoul pick. Although there’s always exactly one bracelet per show that he makes with one of your spare picks that he hands out to one special person.

He has your ringtone set to If You Have Ghosts :’) He also very much loves the Ghesties bit, and there’s a nonzero chance that he’s changed your contact to be a gh- prefix of some sweet little petname he has for you.

His favorite song is easily Dance Macabre — both live and off the stage! This only doubles after the events of LA.

He saves mummy dust and confetti from every show that you do, and keeps it in his scrapbook.

He thinks the Era V outfit is really cute. You DO look like a bug… but you’re his bug :)

He has been begging for ghoul plushies since he started dating you; although, he is very happy to own a little Plushia. He thinks he’s cute.

William Murderface

Like Nathan, he has also gotten into online debates about whether or not Ghost is metal — except he takes the opposite position of Nathan. Ghost is metal as fuck to him. Listen, you don’t go on stage in front of that many people, make fun of God and everyone who worships him, and come out not being metal. Like the Satanism bit is whatever, but having the balls to go and make fun of that many people on stage? Metal.

He thought the old outfits were really boring, but he is nothing short of obsessed with Era V — for both you and Papa alike. He desperately wants a replica of Papa’s military jacket.

His favorite album overall is probably Infestissumam, but he’s also partial to Opus Eponymous. He’s been begging you to get talk Trickery Feet into getting Idolatrine on the setlist since you got him into Ghost — hell, if he ever gets the motivation to actually record Planet Piss, he’d love to do a cover of it.

Although his favorite songs to see live are probably either Mummy Dust or — after the LA show — Twenties. Twenties slides in very quick as his number one after the LA show.

He gets into arguments online about your characterization in fandom spaces, I’m sorry. He does indeed read fanfic, and he will be leaving “they would not fucking say that” comments.

He likes to banter back and forth at night about what your role would be in the clergy if you know, the whole bit was real. For someone who doesn’t give a fuck about religion, he actually puts a lot of thought into this.

[elbiotipo]

Like in most starships, and indeed like in any kind of ships through history, the mess hall was the heart of the Johann Sebastian Mastropiero. Of course, most of the rest of the ship was propellant tanks, engines, and cargo bays. But what truly mattered was this place, this sacred place with food and drink where the crew could relax after a long day sailing the aether. They were the ones who kept this old bird flying, they were the lifeblood of the Mastropiero, and the mess hall was its heart. At least according to the crew themselves. The cargo's insurance was probably higher than theirs after all.

“Mess hall” might also have been a grandiose name for it. It was basically a table, some especially uncomfortable chairs bolted to it so they didn't flew away in 0g, several handles to walk through while in freefall, an old booth that seemed -and probably was- taken from an abandoned fuel space station, an old fridge/hydroponics combo, some kitchen essentials like an electric kettle and oven, and a counter bearing the scars of poorly prepared food, because you get tired of instant guiso and mushroom chips after a while.

It was Human spacer tradition for the Captain to have a last dinner with the passengers before landing at the destination, so never mind the mess, in a way, the mess hall also needed to show the ship's history. And it did, with the pictures hanging on the paneling. A faded photograph of the crew during the Machine War, and then newer ones, an old captain giving a thumbs up at a newly repainted ship, a group of people wearing smokings doing a comedy sketch, Beto as a kid sitting on the commands with the hat on, an asado under three moons that legend has it bring good luck, and more. The latest picture was just next to the oldest one, with a lanky, angular-faced human male with a mate gourd on hand, a small shark-like girl wearing sunglasses and doing a peace sign, and a cactus-like man with his leaves in a sarcastic attitude, under that same sky as the three lucky moons.

Freefalling, and yet somehow looking busy while at it, Beto arrived at the mess hall to heat up water for the mate and start up his morning shift. As he rubbed his eyes he saw Ragua hanging by her squalene tail on a handle in the "ceiling", her headphones at a high enough volume to tell she was listening to Hermética. Siusini was sitting conspicuously in the center of the booth table -not that he needed to eat anyways-, while holding a bunch of crystals around him that reflected on his leaves in beams of focused light, like glittering rainbows. Beto wondered if Pink Floyd would perhaps be a better soundtrack in this case.

"Mornin', people." Beto yawned as he turned on the kettle, his weightless body hanging as he waited for the water to heat up -not boil, this was mate after all.

"MORNIN', BETO!" Ragua said from the ceiling, her voice more high-pitched than usual, perhaps because of her usual excitement, perhaps because of the metal screaming that seemed to envelop her. Siusini's chromoplasts shifted into a greeting hue.

"What are you listening to, Ragua?" Beto asked as the water began to heat.

"It's that music you told me about last night!" She answered, perhaps a bit offended that Beto didn't notice. "I love it, though some lyrics are hard to understand..." She noted. Beto nodded thoughtfully. He was amazed at how quickly she had picked up Rioplatense Spanish in any case.

"Yeah, I told you, they talk a bit about the things that happen in my history tapes..."

"Of course you like them because of that." She grinned while narrowing her eyes playfully. For various reasons, perhaps because she was part of it, history just didn't sit well with her. "But that's the fun part. The voices go... like all low and deep like yours..." Ragua did a frighteningly good rendition of Ricardo Iorio, "...and then it goes all like YEEEEEEAHHHH." Ragua did an even more frightening impression of Claudio O'Connor. Beto just smiled, amused.

"I don't sing like that."

"You don't sing. At all." Ragua teased back.

"Shut up." Beto said. It was true, he couldn't sing at all.

"But what I like the most is the controls." Ragua continued as the album rocked on, her fins shifting to the music.

"You mean instruments?" Beto corrected her word use, helpfully.

"Yeah! Those! It's just so AWESOME... Like, I love the sound, the noise, it feels like when prey moves on the ocean, when you're about to just bite on it? You know? So nice." She said, a bit too giddy, kicking her finned legs against the ceiling.

"That's cool man." Beto answered in a monotone as he poured water on the thermos. 

Perhaps not wanting to awaken her predatory instincts, he turned to Siusini.

"What about you, you finally gave up engineering to become a table decoration?" Beto bantered in friendly confidence. Siusini didn't seem to listen through his sound translator. His leaf patterns shifted in ways that were difficult even for the experienced Beto to decipher.

"Sius'?" He asked again. The chromoplasts reacted.

"GOOD DAY BETO." The patterns of colors said. Beto knew how to read them, and he'd better, since Siusini was his engineer after all. Not a good relationship for miscommunications.

"Testing out the crystals you bought the other time?" Beto said while pouring himself a mate.

"RIGHT."

"Are they, uh, good?" Beto asked, not sure how to put it.

"VERY GOOD." the leaves answered, as Siusini shifted the crystals to what Beto assumed was a more pleasant light show for him.

Beto sipped his second -always the best one, after the yerba is settled- mate of the morning and watched the crystals dance in Siusini's tendrils. Being a heterotroph himself, Beto didn't quite get what was so interesting about the focusing crystals that many photosynthetic species enjoyed, but visually, they were very striking.

"You know." Beto said with his usual curiosity, "You never quite told me what does that light show feels, exactly." Siusini's color shifted to one of amusement, and Beto sighed, wondering what he was gonna say.

"EXPLAINING IS DIFFICULT. WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS." the leaves said.

"Oh come on. You can explain how a dark-energy inductor works, but not that?" Beto bantered back, knowing he won the argument.

"WILL TRY THEN." Siusini said, his color still in an ironic hue.

The communication leaves of Siusini shifted a bit in some patterns Beto didn't recognize. "IT IS LIKE. GOOD FOOD. VERY GOOD FOOD. NARCOTICS[?]. [?]."

Beto blinked a couple times, trying to understand. The last two patterns looked familiar, but... Then he noticed Siusini's leaves and tendrils shifting in a rather strange way... and he groaned.

"You dirty motherflower, I shouldn't have asked..." Beto groaned again in the tone of someone defeated while Siusini's leaves shone brighter in their amused state. He just grabbed his thermos and mate and decided to go to the cockpit.

Ragua, always up for some good gossip but who wasn't keeping up with the conversation because of her headphones, followed Beto with a teasing smile. "Wait, wait, what did Sius’ say?" she asked.

"Never mind, you don't wanna know." Beto said as he made his way to the cockpit.

"Come on, tell me, what was it?!"

"Ragua, no."

"COME ON, TELL ME!" Ragua insisted as she hovered on 0g after him, grabbing his leg while he grumbled. "BETITO, COME ON, TELL ME, WAS IT FUNNY? I KNOW IT WAS FUNNY!" She was not gonna let it go and he knew it. But never mind, first it was time to do trajectory corrections and get to work.

And so, another day started in the good spaceship Mastropiero, 614 years after Gagarin.

[l0vergirlatheart]

can I get a twst Dorm leaders headcanon with a student that wears their headphones a lot bc they're sensitive to loud noises?

Have this image too

this is so me wtf (both the req and the image lmfaooo)

didnt do anyone esle because im lazy and tired and its nearly midnight AAAAAAAAAAA

anyways as always, start under cut

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he is old

mentally

im not a hater i swear

but when he sees you with things hanging out of your ears, he's slightly concerned.

whether it's normal headphones or earphones or earbuds, it just doesn't seem normal

so of course, he informs you of this

you stare at him for a second before you take an earbud out and stare at him again, with a following "what'd you say?"

he thinks it's harming your ears for a moment because you couldn't hear him

please reassure baby that it's not an infection or something

he'll be confused for a moment but he gets the hang of it rather quickly

SHARE AN EARBUD WITH HIM!!!

SHARE YOUR MUSIC W HIM!! HE WILL FALL AS HARDER, IF IT'S EVEN POSSIBLE

he jus luvs any classical tunes but..

i actually honestly think he's also like hard metal... don't ask me why

OH!! AND TV GIRL

HE LOVES TV GIRL!!!!

LISTENING TO LOVERS ROCK AND CIGARETTES AFTER SEX TOGETHER MAKES HIM MELT :((( <3

overall 10/10 good boy

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

he KNOWS what it's like to have sensitive ears

so believe it or not, he totally understands u wearing earbuds an (probably) won't rip on u for it

he might start talking to you w/o u knowing because you have your eyes closed and youre just vibin w ur music

and he knows that so he takes that chance to say some sappy shit w/o anyone hearing him at all

he could never say it to your face

so he opts for this instead

fuckin big ass ego mf /affectionate

he'll probably never ask to listen to the music w u no matter how much he wants too

so if you wanna have a silly lil romantic moment w him, you'll have to ask him first

he'll probably scoff an roll his eyes before he sees you pout and he just turns away as one of his ears flicker

that's your sign to put the earbud in

imo i think he'd really like MSI, POPPY, and for some reason Mac DeMarco

mindless self indulgence because their music jus slaps

POPPY because i think he'd like the guitar in the background and the solos and her voice

Mac DeMarco because he's nice to listen to when you wanna pass out fr

overall 8/10 good boy

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

okay dont come at me but at first i have a feeling he might try to use it to rope u into some kind of contract...

but later on he just accepts it

he's sometimes annoyed when he's talking to you an u havent heard a thing he said

but one confused look from you makes his annoyed frown turn into a small, hard-to-keep pout

has to remind himself that your hearing is different from his

he tries his best to keep monstro lounge quiet at times and lets you stay after hours when it's all quiet and empty

it has a certain comforting charm

i swear the first time you asked him to listen to music with him

he turned into stew i swear his face was extremely red and he was just like

???

he accepted ofc, tried to play it off, (failed)

i have a feeling he'd like Ricky Montgomery, Steve Lacy, and girl in red

Ricky Montgomery because he's got a nice voice and his lyrics are really relateable,

Steve Lacy because the instrumentals are just so!!!

and girl in red because he finds it romantic listening to her w you

lean against him as you two listen to music i promise he'll explode

overall 9.5/10 good boy

KALIM AL-ASIM

oh boy

this boy is super loud (/affectionate)

but once he learns about you and your sensitive hearing, he tries his best to keep it down

from lowering his voice a bit to trying to make "quiet times" at his dorm,

he tries his best to make sure you're as comfortable as possible and it's not too loud for you

he likes to talk to you even if you're not listening to him, he could ramble for hours

as long as you're next to him, he could talk until his voices dries out and withers away

he'll probably be the one to ask you to listen to music first

i think he'd also like Mac DeMarco, Alec Benjamin, and Conan Gray

all of them because of the instrumentals and vocals!

but he doesn't mind listening to anything as long as he's with you

he might fall asleep while listening though

he's smiling all the way through though :)

overall 15/10 good boy

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

theres probably some bs rule about music n shit but like

lets pretend there isn't

he'll probably be trying to reprimand you for doing some stupid shit

and then you'll just take out an earbud and be like "huh??"

he'll just stare up at you, face slowly getting redder from slight anger but mostly embarrassment

like?? how dare you ignore him???

but either way, you're his favorite so you get a pass

he just sighs and shakes his head

but then you tell him why you wear your earbuds so often and he immediately gets it

he himself used to really sensitive to loud noises before he just got used to them (thanks to his mom)

so he does his best to go easy on you about it

he WILL NOT EVER ASK YOU TO JOIN HE IS WAYYY TOO SHY

hand him an earbud, he'll be confused for a moment or two

but he puts it in w a red face and vibes w u

i think he'd like Mitski, Tally Hall, and Pastel Ghost

they all are just so... soothing yet relatable

fall asleep listening to Liquid Smooth with him, hug him as you listen to Hidden In the Sand, just hold his hand as you two sit in the garden while listening to Silhouette...

he loves it sm

overall 9.3/10 good boy

[munsonsreputation]

Thinking Of You

eddie munson x fem!reader

inspired by "Thinking Of You" by Katy Perry

word count: [14.6k]

warnings: no use of y/n, angst (a lot of it), yearning for one another, cursing, a tiny bit of physical violence at the end (like two bits), fluff ending (i don't do sad ending here...i'm not sane enough, sorry).

summary: breakups were never easy, especially when you knew that eddie was your soulmate. even when you get a new boyfriend you can't help but think about eddie every time you're with him. so you write a song dedicated to eddie, based on flashbacks comparing your relationships, but not realizing he's there listening...along with your current boyfriend.

“Thank you, everyone!” 

The youthful girl's squeaky voice pitching through the exceedingly powerful microphone and its speakers jerking you out of your blank stare at the stage.

Hands naturally clapping as did everyone else who watched her wave and exit the stage through the back, then come down and take her seat somewhere in the front row. 

This afternoon was Hawkins High’s annual song contest. Few participated due to the particular criteria that the board of administrators created, but those who did had a chance at winning a five hundred dollar scholarship to use towards any college tuition. 

Something you needed. Especially knowing that you wanted to get into a music art school out of state. 

But just thinking about where you found your passion for music and the reason why you were here made your heartbreak a little. Or more like a lot. 

Eddie Munson. 

The metal head with agile fingers striking over the guitar strings and its frets to Metallica or Ozzy was the whole reason you were here in the first place.

He was the one who helped turn your love of writing into music. 

“You could make this into a song you know?” He had said to you, passing back your peer reviewed poem to you with his red markings on the page. 

But really, they were all just compliments in the margins. Commending your use of metaphors and imagery, writing devices he knew made a good writing and even better songwriter. 

Somehow that afternoon, after creative writing class you two found yourself in the drama room, him teaching you how to pick at the strings on the acoustic guitar and coming up with notes and melodies that matched your poem. 

It was love, instantly.  

The way he’s fawned while you played the guitar and sung out the pure lyrics to him that came to you out of now where throughout the day, every afternoon. 

In his bedroom.

In your garden. 

In the drama room. 

Over the phone. 

Your music had no confines and his joy for listening to you, became joy for talking to you, laughing with you, stuttering over notes with you, to being with you wholeheartedly, and thinking of you constantly.

And so it wasn’t unforeseen when he asked you to be his girl by writing you a song. Lyrics laced with pledges of forever and how he’d write songs with you for the rest of his life if it meant spending restless mornings and nights trying to come up with a catchy song together. 

You wanted nothing more than that. Finding comfort in doing the simplest things with him, even if it was just scribbling lyrics into a mangled up journal and fumbling around guitar stings until your fingertips bled. 

But just like every other love story, there always seemed to be something that would spoil the love that you thought you’d never lose. 

“Hey honey.” You shivered, fingers gripping the arm rests when you shifted your head around and spotted the eyes of your current boyfriend Don along with some of his friends who were sitting nearby in empty seats in the small auditorium. 

“What are you doing here?” You quietly hissed harsher than called for, palpable disturbance covering the looks of his friends and specifically your boyfriend, who tilted his head at your remark. 

“To support you! That’s what a good boyfriend is supposed to do, right?” He claimed, as if that would make you feel any better and forget about the agreement you made them make, which was now broken. 

You hadn’t wanted any of them to show up and especially not Don, because the original song you had written for the contest was far from nice towards him. 

In fact, it did nothing but smear his name with the notion that he was second best and was always going to be in your eyes. 

Disenchantment spread on your face, narrowing your eyes at him, “You promised me, Don—you all promised me.” 

“I came all this way to support you and now you’re acting out.” He tried to look even more hurt than you, but you knew it wasn’t right for him to lie and break the one thing he was supposed to keep. 

You were going to counter, to snap back and tell him you didn’t want his support and nor did you ask for it, but your name being announced interrupted you. 

Only giving him a stern look before you stood up, your voice telling him no lies, “Leave before you get your feelings hurt.” 

Eddie sat in the far corner of the auditorium with his legs hiked up on his chair. A hat covering his head and for once his distinct leather jacket in the middle of summer now traded in for a flannel he had borrowed from Wayne—trying to blend into the rest of the audience who were watching in on the open event. 

Before the two of you had separated last summer, you went on to tell him about how during your senior year you were going to take part in the song contest so that you could use the money towards your tuition if you had gotten accepted into your dream school. Sure, it wasn’t no Juilliard, but it was something…something you could afford even if you didn’t end up winning the song contest. 

“Well, that didn’t look too good.” Max muttered faintly, separating her eyes away from you and Don on the other side of the room where you looked rather agitated.

Her best friend El bowed wistfully and propped her cheek on Max’s shoulder, peeking over at Eddie, who looked tense. Following you walk up the stage with your guitar in hand. 

The one and only guitar you had owned.

The one Eddie had gifted to you with your name carved on the back along with butterflies and flowers. The mahogany wood he could never mistake and especially the bright colors of your guitar strap that you had picked up with him at a garage sale. The leather material seeping with nature’s creatures, bumblebees, fireflies, and a whole species of different bugs. 

“M-maybe we should leave.” Eddie considered, swinging his head at the thought of him throwing you off your game if you had caught him here, not knowing if it was ok for him to even be here even if it was a public event. 

He was about to stand up, try his very best to secretly leave without making any large movements or sounds, but El and Max, both reached out and placed a hand on top of his that rested on torn up velour upholstery, “Stay.” 

Eddie gulped, seeing you finally take the stage, settling onto the stool and adjusting the mic stand to your height, “O-okay.” 

You cleared your throat, beaming mildly at the three judges who sat in a row with clipboards and pens in their hands. The women who seemed like the less intimidating one, returned a smile after she had written your name on her piece of paper and reached for her mic sitting on the table. 

“Thank you for participating, dear…why don’t you tell us a little about your song?”

Feeling less nervous than before, you tried to organize a mental outline of what you would say, despite realizing that your boyfriend was going to hear just a smidge of what the song actually meant. 

“I wrote this song actually, just a few days ago…y’know breakups are hard and it’s even more difficult when we know that we lost someone who we couldn’t imagine life without. And, umm, I guess, we kinda all have that one person that we’re never really over, and they’re never really over us too, because there’s always going to be something between you guys.” 

Eddie felt his heart spur, the murmurs of El and Max’s voices dying on his deaf ears as he proceeded to listen to you speak. 

“Holy shit, she’s talking about you.” Max pinched Eddie’s side, but he never tore his eyes away from you, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“No…no she isn’t, she’s not.” 

El groaned, giving Max a roll of her eyes towards Eddie who didn’t seem to catch it, as he was too busy listening. You swallowed, pursing your lips and shaking your head to yourself, a habit that you did when you were having trouble trying to find the right words. 

He knew you only needed a few seconds. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

“An—and you’re always thinking of them, no matter who you’re with…romantically or platonically. It’s like this pain and reminder that never goes away and no one can ever take away, because you—you just know that they’re the only one for you…and sometimes it’s better to be alone just thinking of them instead of being with someone else who you know will never be them…you’re kinda just holding out this hope that the one you’re thinking of will find their way back to you.” 

You were rambling at this point and maybe even over sharing, but the judges seemed to like the vulnerability, nodding their heads as they looked down and wrote…good things, hopefully. 

For the first time since you took the stage, did you meet eyes with Don, his friends murmuring to themselves behind him where he sat, hands intertwined together and resting in his lap. Not sure what he was thinking. Perhaps a mixture of confusion and discomfort…but you tried to warn him. 

“…anyway, umm, yeah, this is my song, “thinking of you.”

Comparisons are easily made once you’ve had a taste of perfection. 

Two knocks bellowed against the wooden door, your head turning to see who it was, “Busy?” 

You nodded apologetically, but gestured him in, planting your guitar off to the side when he came close and pressed a kiss to your lips, “How’s writing going?” 

“Still nothing. My brain must be racked or something.” You replied tiredly, drawing open your notebook and handing it over to him. 

The pages filled with sentences, and words that had been crossed off and scribbled over. A case of writer’s block that wasn’t new but absolutely troubling when the song contest was only a week away. 

“Maybe I can help?” He offered with a gracious grin, picking up a pen, tapping the butt of it against his chin, thinking.

“You can write about me and how great of a boyfriend I am?”

Maybe Don was joking, and you were taking it out of context, but he was far from the greatest boyfriend you’ve ever had. 

You knew deep down who that title belonged to and how if he were here right now, he’d offer to take you on a crusade around town to get your mind off of writing. 

Eddie knew you the way Don didn’t.

“Hey, c’mon don’t worry, it’ll come to you in no time…let’s just take a break and go for a ride. No music. Just the two of us talking with the windows down, yeah?”

Eddie was excellent at just knowing what you needed without every trying to pry or offer resolutions that would only leave you feeling more perplexed and frustrated. 

How he could just tell what gears were turning in your head as he stole glances at you throughout the car ride. How you’d stare at the lump of grey clouds and stars in the sky, making himself to slow down so you could build a mental picture to look back on and write about by the time you got back home. 

It was something so special that Don could never achieve. Not the level of perfection that Eddie ever was to you. No matter how generous or thoughtful Don thought he was being, it would never measure up to Eddie. 

Like an apple hanging from a tree, I picked the ripest one. I still got the seed. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t attracted to Don the first time you had saw him or even when you started dating. But it was never entirely about looks when it came to you. 

Don attracted many women in Roane county and here in Hawkins when he started coming for you, but you were never affected by the adoring eyes that swept over him. Strangers coming up to tell you how lucky you were to have such a good-looking man all to yourself. That you had picked the most perfect boy and that they would die to have him like you did. 

You never understood that logic because while yes, Don was a handsome man, it didn’t mean you were satisfied being with him. Instead, it only endorsed the conclusion that you had picked the most perfect boy in the eyes of the others, yet you ended everyday feeling empty and alone.

Nothing but a pit of loneliness. 

And the pathetic part about recognizing this was knowing that no matter who you chose, whether it would be after Eddie or before him, that there was no one in this town, this state, and even in the entire universe that could fill that pit of uncomfortable solitude. 

You said move on, where do I go?

You and Eddie weren’t perfect by any means. You’d both argue; shout a little too loudly at each other or just not talk at all. But that was life and it was normal for couples to go through minor bumps like this—if anything every fight made you and Eddie stronger. 

But it was only a matter of time before strength became weakness. 

“So that’s it?” You stood in front of him with your hands held out, practically gesturing for him to give you something. 

Anything. 

His face was buried in his palms, his back hunched where he sat at the foot of his bed with a million thoughts spiraling in his head. 

“I-I don’t know…I don’t know, alright!” He exclaimed, mopping his dry hands across his face and turning his eyes back up at you. 

Yours were bloodshot from the crying, and you looked a wreck. Tears staining the collar and sleeves of your shirt that you had used as a tissue and exhaustion in your limbs when you felt like sinking to your knees and bawling on the trailer floor until you had to be carried out. 

“How can you not know? I—I don’t even know where this is all coming from…I thought that you said we were going to figure things out when the time came and—and now you just change your mind out of nowhere.” 

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to your aspirations. Dream of which were bigger than this small town, passions that were far too massive to ever stay bound in this state. He knew that were dead-set on moving out of Hawkins as soon as you had that diploma in your hands and an acceptance letter from Cleveland. 

You promised him that you two were going to figure out plans. If Eddie could stay with you a couple months out of the semester and you two could head back to Hawkins to stay with Wayne and Eddie when you had a breaks. You weren’t going to just leave Eddie behind in the dust. There was no way you could do that to him, and you never wanted your heart to go through that type of suffering. 

Eddie stood up, prompting you to step back and give him space, “Figuring it out later isn’t realistic….we need to figure it out now!” 

You furrowed your brows, stepping back into his space. “And who said that? Who made the rules, Eddie?” 

“I did, alright! I did because I know that you’re going to hold yourself back if you stay with me any longer.” He shouted, brushing past you and leaving his room. 

You followed right behind him, tugging at your scalp, trying to get through to him, “Who said anything about me holding myself back? The only person who can make that decision is me!” 

Wayne rose up from his place on the couch where he was watching television on his only day off that week, just to be disturbed by the sudden invasion of his nephew and you, “Hey, hey, come on now…settle down, you two.” 

He got between the both of you, looking at Eddie calmly telling him to cool down, “You tell her that! She doesn’t understand where I’m coming from!” 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, tugging on Wayne’s arm so you could get a clear view of Eddie, “You’re right! I don’t understand because if you loved me, then this isn’t how you would get about the situation.” 

Tears began rushing down your cheeks while the yelling and argument persisted through the turmoil. Wayne did not know the full story, yet trying his best to diffuse the situation, draping his arms around you in a hug, seeing as though you were hysterical, not hearing any of Eddie’s comments. 

“Stay inside, Eddie!” Wayne hollered, leading the both of you out of the trailer door and onto the porch where you cried into his shoulder, his uncle rubbing your back comfortingly. 

“I—I just don’t…don’t understand.” You told him through harsh sobs, throwing your head against his shoulder where you were sure his shirt was now soaked with tears. 

Wayne didn’t speak for a few minutes, tuning in to your cries in one ear then Eddie’s frustrated shouts from the inside of the trailer. 

“What…what am I s-supposed to do? Where do I go from h-here?” 

You couldn’t move on. Not this easily and not this abruptly. 

But you knew Eddie. He was headstrong. When he made up his mind about something, there was a tough time trying to change it. So you forced yourself to leave without ever going back inside and talking to Eddie one last time. 

I guess second best is all I will know

Days were lonely without Eddie. Months were even more brutal knowing you couldn’t pick up the phone and call him to save your gloom. But the new record store that opened in town seemed to fix some issues you’d been having. Killing most of your time there browsing through vinyls and looking for new records to add to your collection that Eddie had started for you. 

ABBA, Bon Jovi, and even a few Metallica records he picked up for your birthday a few months prior. All of them now sitting on a shelf with dust collecting on the outer sleeves, as you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy those records that you and he used to play together. 

It hurt too much to listen to. 

“Is this band any good?” 

“Huh?” You peered up and across from you was the boy whom you picked to be your next boyfriend, Don, holding up the new KISS record that was released early that year…you hadn’t had the chance to listen to it yet, but you knew it must have been good if Eddie liked the band. 

You smiled apologetically and nodded, reaching for the same record and reviewing the tracklist on the back of the cover, “Oh, yeah, KISS is great…my ex boy—an old friend of mine really likes that band.” 

Catching yourself already bringing Eddie up, you cursed silently to yourself, placing the record back on the shelf and stepping away from the metal section of music that you had mindlessly found yourself in for the last twenty minutes. 

Don was intrigued by you, leaving the KISS vinyl behind and following you into the next shelves into a different genre of music, “I wasn’t actually interested in KISS…I just needed an excuse to talk to you.” 

Looking over your shoulder, there the man was, stiffly holding himself up against the racks with a sheepish smile on his face. He was far off from a metal head. He actually looked quite preppy, sporting khaki slacks with sneakers that definitely didn’t match his outfit, nor were dinged up from wearing them for so long, and an oversized sweatshirt with the bright geometric shapes stamped across the material. 

You laughed, “Well, it’s nice to meet you…stranger?” holding out your hand for him to shake and so he did, keeping your hands together for a few more seconds before he finally let his hand fall back to his side. 

“Don, you can call me Don.” He finally told you his name, urging you to do the same. Him making a corny joke about how it was such a coincidence that a pretty girl like you would have a pretty name to fit. 

Such a typical flirt. 

“So are you from Hawkins?” He asked you, eyeing the green and orange lanyard hanging around your neck where your keys and small collections of charms dangled. 

You followed his eyes down your chest and nodded, drawing up the jumbled mess and rattling it. “Yeah, I’m going to be a senior next school year. Are you from here too? I’ve never seen you around school before.” 

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to do, but you practically knew every person at Hawkins High because you and Eddie would make fun of all the stuck up and preppy students who stuck their noses up at you two. Surely Don looked to be a part of that crowd, yet you never saw his face in the halls or in the yearbook. 

He shook his head, pointing out the window of the store where his car was parked with some of his friends lingering around chatting, “Me and my friends drove up from Roane. Wanted to check out the store since I saw the grand opening ad in the paper last week.” 

“Oh, cool! Well, it was umm, nice to meet you, but I’ve actually got to head out so—“

You gestured your thumbs behind you where the exit door was, not really up for anymore conversation and actually needing to go run errands for the rest of the day, “Maybe you’d like to go out sometime?” 

Gulping you stopped mid-sentence getting cut off by his sudden proposition and hesitated for a bit, “I actually just got out…of a really long-term relationship so maybe not—I don’t think right now is a good time.” 

He looked disappointed, but still confident, “We don’t have to go out go out…we could just like, see each other casually? If you’re up for that.”

A hookup basically. 

You groaned, pursing your lips and shaking your head no, “Nope, not interested…goodbye.” 

Turning on your heel, you were striding out of there as hurriedly as possible, having a sense that he was still trailing behind you by the sounds of the footsteps, “Ok, I’m sorry! That came out weird…I swear I’m not a tool!” 

You rolled your eyes, not answering him as you pushed the door open and walked to your car, parked a few stalls away from where he pointed at his. Fingers instantly clicking the unlock button on your key fob, almost nearing your vehicle when you felt a hand reach out and seize your shoulder, ordering you to turn around and push Don with full force, nearly knocking him over. 

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but don’t put your fucking hands on me!” You shouted furiously, with your finger pointed at him sharply. 

He held his hands up in defense, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the commotion, and thankfully bystanders were too immersed up in their own lives and conversations to notice the slight disturbance. 

“I’m sorry! Sorry! I just—I didn’t mean to insinuate that we could hook up. God, that was stupid of me to say in there,” He shut his eyes rigidly, opening them back up to your still livid face, “Really, I’m really sorry…I’m an asshole and I should’ve just passed you my number then this could have been avoided.” 

You furrowed your brows, shaking your own head, following his hands that went into his pocket and pulled out a yellow post-it note with blue ink scribbled down on it. He fiddled with it between his fingers before holding it out to you. 

Sighing, you took it, unfolding the paper and reading the ten digits that were written, “It’s my number…if you’d ever like to give me a call, and maybe I could make it up to you or something—again, I’m sorry…for saying dumb shit in there and grabbing you.” 

You looked up at him for a second, raising one of your brows highly as you examined his remorseful expression, before crumpling the paper in your palm, “Yeah…whatever, goodbye, Don.” 

He slumped his shoulders, watching you get into your car and drive off without batting another glance at him. Leaving him behind in the parking lot to thinking about how he just possibly screwed up on the girl who caught his eye. 

Eddie would never do such a thing like that to you even if he was interested. 

If you had told him no, it meant for him to back off and let you be. He was always great at respecting your boundaries that you created and he knew it wasn’t anything personal, it just was something that you established because you wanted to get to know him first. 

So Eddie didn’t go into guitar lessons with you with any gleam of hope that he would be yours and you would be his. When he offered to help you get better at songwriting and playing the guitar, he did it because he knew you were something special. 

It was just that simple. 

He never pushed the idea of a relationship towards you, nor did he ever make a move on you until you both were on the same page that a relationship was something that you wanted. And to be quite honest, the connection that you and Eddie shared was deep-rooted—you had spent time with him, each talking about your lives and your friends before even plunging into the relationship thing headfirst. 

You liked it that way because it gave you a reason to really appreciate Eddie for not only a man that you were beginning to fall in love with, but just on that human level where vulnerability and empathy was laid out for the both of you to notice. 

There was never a guy like that out there for you anymore, so for some reason you settled for Don. You called Don on that same day, later in the night, accepting that there was no man out there willing to show you his true colors like Eddie did. And definitely no man stronger enough than Eddie to hold the weight of your deepest fears and insecurities. 

‘Cause when I’m with him, I am thinking of you

You tried to not look so uptight in the candlelit restaurant where classical music played softly in the background while waiters in suits walked around with large silver platters in their hands—but this wasn’t something you usually did on a Friday night. 

“Do you like the food?” 

Your fork twirling the pasta around the tongs, while you seemed rather distant worried Don. But only momentarily as you snapped out of the uncomfortable stare of your dish and looked up at him with a small grin, bending your head convincedly, “Y-yeah, sorry, just didn’t expect you to take me here.” 

He frowned, setting his fork down and resting a hand against your wrist that laid flat against the white tablecloth, “Hey, you deserve the best. If I have to take you to a fancy restaurant every weekend to show you how much you’re worth it, then I will.” 

You did your best to smile, nodding your head and mouthing a thank you before you two proceeded to eat the pricey food that didn’t nearly fill up like the burgers and fries at Benny’s did. 

Eddie would have known not to bring you to a place like this for a date. He knew how much you hated all things formal.

For Valentines one year he tried to take you to Enzo’s after hearing how much all the girls loved getting taken out for a date there to spend the 14th of February. He caught on right away when you kept fidgeting in your seat, apologizing for brushing the fork and knife too roughly against the porcelain dishes making a high-pitched scratching noise that echoed throughout the restaurant, and how you, like the night you and Don went to that upscale restaurant, barely spoke a word to him. 

“Are you sure you like your food?” Eddie confided, leaning closer towards you as you exhaled, giving him a sorrowful look and shaking your head. 

Eddie’s expression fell, dropping his hands under the table to hold your hands where you had been fiddling with the stupid lace of the table runner. His thumbs smoothing across your knuckles, “You can have mine if you want, baby…or you can order something new. Whatever you want, sweets. Not gonna force you to eat something you don’t like.” 

It was an encouraging and comforting smile he sent your way, never making you feel bad for not liking what you had ordered or worrying about what you two would be charged at the end of the night. He just wanted you to have a good time. 

“It’s not the food, Eds.” You told him, squeezing his hands as you relaxed your eyes and skimmed around, assuming he was following, “I feel weird…like I don’t belong—don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful in here, but I just, I feel like I’m fucking up this whole night—“ 

He shushed you lightly, shaking his head with a relatively affectionate expression laid out right in front of you, “Let’s get the rest to go then, we can even get a slice of cake or something, then we can eat the rest at Lover’s Lake.” 

You laughed gently, a relaxed sigh leaving you, noticing his hands squeeze yours now, “I wish you would’ve told me sooner…don’t want to make you stay when you feel uncomfortable.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” You apologized, slanting forward the rest of the way to peck his lips kindly, “I just knew that this probably took a lot for you to plan out and everything and I just didn’t want to throw all that out because I’m in a mood.” 

He pecked you again, an “uh uh,” crooned out on your lips before he drew away and smiled, “You’re not in a mood, baby. And don’t you dare feel bad—as long as we’re both together having a good time, I don’t care where we are, alright?” 

“Alright.” You assured him, smiling as he let go of your hands and called the waiter to your table, asking for the check, take out boxes, and a slice of their famous berry cake with mascarpone and extra whipped cream on the side. 

You shouldn’t have been thinking of your ex-boyfriend as you sat across from your current one, but in hindsight you’d had to accept the fact that Eddie would never leave your mind. He was always the top tier, exemplary, example of the expectations you were looking for in a relationship. His ability to read you like the back of his hand and express a profound semblance of understanding that could never be replicated. 

You were always thinking of Eddie when you were with Don. 

What you would do if you were the one who was spending the night?

Lover’s Lake wasn’t as nearly a popular hook up spot as Skull Rock was but there was no doubt that there were going to be couples having more than enough fun in the back of their cars on this valentines day night. But nevertheless, Eddie drove round and round and round until he found an empty spot, parking his van and helping you out of the passenger seat.

The two of you finished the rest of your dinner in the back of his van, giggling as the ducks in the lake quacked noisily, demanding more of Eddie’s garlic bread that he had been tearing and tossing into the water. Feeding them despite the sign that was posted that highly discouraged the act. 

“But what if their duck family doesn’t have any food to eat!” Eddie questioned, still throwing what was left of the baked dough into the pond until he had no more left to give. 

You giggled, at how ludicrous yet understandable Eddie’s argument was, his genuine care of nature and their creatures you found something so attractive. 

“Should we stay here or do you want to head over to mine and you could spend the night?” 

Eddie had never spent the night at your house. It wasn’t because your parents were strict or anything; it was just the fact that you both preferred the privacy of Eddie’s trailer knowing that Wayne wasn’t home to tell you two that it was too late to be up cooking a whole meal or bugging you both about being careful…but Eddie and you had both gotten that talk already. 

He scooted closer to you, covering you up in his arms while he pushed kisses in random sequences across your shoulder and arms. “I’ve never spent the night at yours before.” 

“Yeah,” You nodded knowingly, snaking your hands up to push his curly hair back behind his ear, giving you ample space to kiss his cheeks, “I figured you’d want to come over ‘cause my parents aren’t home, but we can go to yours too, but like, we don’t even have to do anything…sexual y’know, that’s not the reason why I want us to go to mine because—“ 

He scrunched his face, brushing nose against yours. An abrupt laugh coming from him, making you feel relieved that he wasn’t weirded out by your ramble, “Baby, you know I don’t expect you to spend the night or ask me to spend the night just for sex, right? I want to be with you because I enjoy being around you…I feel like I’ve told you this before.” 

Eddie squeezed his arms tighter around you, pushing his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to snicker, “Mmmm Eddie! You’re gonna squish me!” 

“Squish you with love and kisses,” He added, slacking his arms giving you enough room to pull him away from where he was hiding and press your forehead together. “What a way to die, huh? Make sure you put that on my death certificate.” 

He closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of you so close to him, “Shut up, you’re not dying anytime soon, dummy—If anything I demand that I go first!”

You laughed harder, finally connecting your lips in a kiss. His hands covering your back, pulling you into him closer, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever like this, even if it meant the stupid metal part from his trunk poking into his side. 

But he knew eventually he’d have to pull away, longing to breathe you, memorize how the moon shone against your skin and take a mental picture to look back on every night before he went to bed with or without you laying next to him. Though he definitely preferred when you spent the night as opposed to going home and waiting until the next morning to feel you again. 

He loved passing the late hours doing anything with you.

Watching reruns of sitcoms that were definitely more of a sleep aid than a laugh fest. Looking through your childhood photo albums and making fun of the missing teeth little you. Strumming the guitar while you read him lyrics. Hell, he wasn’t going to lie…sex with you was amazing, the best he ever had and the only one he wanted for the rest of his life. But his all-time favorite was just the purity of you laying your head on his chest while he watched you sleep.  

The two of you finally began the drive back to your house, the soft engine roaring from the outside of the car. You watched pedestrians cross the streets every time you came to a red light, yearning to know if what they were going through in their lives. If somehow by chance, anyone of these innocent passersby felt the same way you were feeling and lived their lives the way you were. 

Quietness wasn’t necessarily a bad thing on this drive home, and you were pleased that it was. It gave you time to reflect, think about something other than what was happening in your life, especially when you could never seem to do that. 

And so when your house came into view, you were relived, craving nothing more than to get into bed and dream the night away, “Here we are.” 

He announced with a merry tone, parking outside your home where the porch light was flickering yellow with a few moths swarming around its candescent, hoping to ward off any predators that maybe tracking them. 

You unbuckled your belt, nodding your head towards the driver’s side with a look of sincerity, “Yeah…thanks for tonight, again.” 

“Of course. I can’t wait to see you again.” He said, resting his forearms on the steering wheel, leaning forward with flushed cheeks when he turned your way. 

“M-me too,” you agreed less assuringly, hand reaching over for the door handle so you could exit, but the hand coming down to squeeze your knee told you otherwise. 

“Mind if I came in?” 

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, swallowing and finally finding it in yourself to shift back towards him. When you opened them, he was already staring at you, an intense and subdued gaze coating his eyes. 

You shook your head, peering back at the living room window where light waded through the curtains and blinds, “My parents are home…so probably not.” 

“Oh,” He said saddened, nodding his head understandingly, “Well, next time maybe?” 

You only shrugged, bottom lip cover the top, as you weren’t sure if you ever wanted him to spend the night with you, “G’night, Don.” 

Giving him no time to even ask or try to kiss you, you opened the door, flinging it shut and rushing to find the keys in your bag to unlock the door. Not even glancing back at him to wave him goodnight, just walking through into the four walls and slamming the heavy wooden door shut. 

Spending that night, and every other night alone, wondering what could have been. 

Oh, I wish that I was looking into your eyes.

Maybe it was your way of trying to not let the uneasiness and shame bleed into your soul while you were up on that stage, focusing on two things; singing and strumming the guitar.

But your eyes had avoided two spots in the crowd…the judges’ table and where Don was sitting. 

You just couldn’t help yourself, nor avoid it, while your eyes sailed over to different people. It was obvious the Don was realizing what you were singing about, his face hidden in his hands while one of his buds took a seat beside him, lying a hand on his shoulder, buzzing something in his ear that you were too busy to make out. 

The judges’ table actually was less daunting than you had expected. When you stole a glance at them during the pre-chorus, they had smiles on their faces, even one of them tapping their foot to the beat of the song. 

At least you felt like something was going right. 

And so now with a quarter of the student body sitting the crowd, you had many people to let your eyes drift over for what was left of the song, knowing that all of them were complete strangers you’d never see again after you graduated, so they didn’t really make you any more nervous that you already were. 

But blindsided you were when you saw that familiar face in the left corner of the crowd, wholly staring at you. Actually, there in front of your eyes, hearing the song that you had written about him. 

He was all face. His hair pulled back into a bun with a hat onto of his head. He wasn’t wearing anything from his wardrobe it looked like—and if you weren’t looking hard enough, you probably would never be able to tell it was him. 

But you’d never mistake Eddie and those captivating eyes that were burnt images that you saw every time you closed yours. 

Yet now it wasn’t imaginary.  

Eddie swallowed, quietly clearing his dry throat when he knew he had been found by you. The way that your eyes remained on him a little too long and stared too passionately. How he could literally see your feet, pressing into the support legs of the stool, trying to keep your cool. 

He was supposed to be subtle, keeping his hat low to conceal his face, but he couldn’t. Not when you were here singing to him and he knew it. You wanted to break the eye contact, to dart your eyes to the other side of the crowd where one of the students were nearly falling asleep, hoping maybe it would make you forget that Eddie was here.

Deep down, you were terrified that Eddie would’ve gotten up and left the second he got spotted, and you prayed on everything that he didn’t. All that you ever wished was to look into his eyes once again, and so you kept them there.

Not only singing about him, but singing to him. 

He didn’t leave, and he never broke eyes with you, only you doing so every so often to look at the frets you were changing over before quickly finding him again. 

Signing to him everything that you remembered about him that you could never bear to forget. 

You’re like an Indian summer in the middle of winter...Like a hard candy with a surprise center.

When you had first met Eddie, you knew that he was a bit of a guarded individual, for good and personal reasons that you respected, of course. He always claimed that life was better, having no friends at all if it meant that no one he let into his life was making him feel like shit, and you understood that. 

Eddie didn’t have friends…he had family, or at least one that he claimed as his own. 

Hellfire, the little group that caused a lot of talks in the halls were essentially Eddie’s close circle of people. All the upperclassmen in his club were a part of his band, Corroded Coffin, one that you saw being advertised on flyers taped on road signs and restaurant windows. He also took the freshman in his club, as well as their friends under his wing, offering them a seat at his lunch table when it seemed like no one else would. 

Eddie just had this extraordinarily welcoming quality to him, that only a few would know if they dared to step into his life. So many people perceived the wrong things about Eddie based on what he enjoyed and what he dressed like. These attitudes spoiling everyone’s opportunity to have an actual conversation with him to learn how pleasant and imaginative he actually was. 

That the strange boy covered in patchwork tattoos, leather jackets, and ripped denim wasn’t all mean and scary like everyone had thought. Beneath that, he was like a teddy bear with actual capabilities of making you feel like being different wasn’t such a bad thing, because it wasn’t. 

“Why’re you shaking?” Eddie inquired, contemplating your bouncing knee that braced on the chair in the drama room. 

You stopped your leg’s movement, peering over at him where he sat on his throne, organizing the papers in his binder before his attention was captured on you, “Nothing…just a habit.” You waved off with what you attempted to be a convincing smile. 

“Hey, c’mon.” He spoke gingerly, setting his binder down on the table in front of him, and leaning over to wrap his ringed fingers around the leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him, “What’s going on in that head of yours, babe?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, picking at the underside of your nails and flicking the debris off, only to feel Eddie reach for your arm and guiding you up and into his lap. 

Your legs slung over his thighs, getting comfortable with your side dipping into the left side of his body. You could feel his breathing now fanning over your face when he nudged your chin to meet his, “You ought to know, sweets…just lay it on me, don’t be shy.” 

Flinging your hands back into your lap defeatedly you groaned, “I just hope they like me, I mean they mean a lot to you, and just by the way you talk to me about them, I know that they really look up to you and everything like that and so I just hope I make a good impression.” 

His alleviating palm traveling up and down your arm, along with his chuckle let you know that you more than ok, and you were just too much in your head about it, “Baby, they’re gonna love you…and if they don’t they can suck it.” 

That’s all that you needed to know and hear that made you feel like everything was going to be ok. He always had that weirdly insane intuitive way about him—how even in your most uncertain moments, he was able to make you feel certain. He was always sincere and comforting, that homey feeling that could insulate your worrying your little heart and thoughts, attacking off the chill. 

You poked his side, muttering into his neck where you found yourself slotted comfortably once again, “Where are they? Didn’t you said it starts at three?” 

As if his friends had impeccable timing, before Eddie could glance down at his wristwatch, the door to the drama room bursted open with a group of people that you knew were Eddie’s friends. They were wearing thick jackets and boots to fight the winter cold and teeny flecks of white dredged on their shoulders and hair. 

Pulling yourself away from where your face was buried, you and Eddie both sat up, your arms swathed around his neck and his arms caging your body still close to him. 

“It’s snowing!” Dustin Henderson the curly-headed boy quipped, approaching you and Eddie with a palm full of snow in his hands. 

You screeched, forgetting that this was your first time meeting them all, and absolutely fascinated by the ice crystals, moving out to touch it, “Oh my gosh!” 

Another boy stepped forward, Lucas Sinclair, who was bundled up from head to toe, “Max and El are outside. That’s why we were late, they dragged up to help them make snowmen and angels.” 

“There’s gotta be like twelve inches of snow out there! No one can drive or bike, so we all walked here.” Will Byers animatedly spoke, bringing his hands up and down to estimate the amount that had accumulated.  

Another excited squeal left you, shaking Eddie’s upper half with eagerness. “We’ve got to go and see the snow Eds!” 

He let out a bogus fuss, “We see snow all the time.” 

Eddie was undoubtedly right, it snowed like hell during the winter, but most times all the white fluff either melted away before anyone could jump around and freeze their asses off having fun in it or it just became pure ice that was too hard to sculpt. 

“But this snow snow! Like actual snow, c’mon, pleaseeee.” Your doe eyed pleading expression along with your hands clasped together with your bottom lip jutted out was just for theatrics. You both knew that Eddie wasn’t going to turn this down. 

“Yeah Eddie,” Mike Wheeler snorted, making kissy faces towards the both of you, altering your attention to him where you giggled and Eddie flipped him off, patting your thigh, “Shut up Wheeler…everyone meet my girl.” 

You stood up, smoothing your hands down the front of your pants, before sticking your hand out to meet theirs. “Nice to meet you all by the way…sorry for the PDA you walked into.” 

Dustin dropped the snow at his feet, realizing for your hand first, the frosty cool skin brushing yours making you flinch a bit before laughing, “Eddie tells us great things about you…we almost thought you weren’t real until he showed us a photo of you two!” 

As you continued meeting them, along with hearing why the upperclassmen weren’t present because they didn’t want to trudge through the snow on a Saturday—Eddie had swept the snow that the little shit Dustin dropped, not wanting to hear it from the drama teacher who graciously gave him the keys to the classroom for weekend campaigns even if it was prohibited. 

Now he had somehow found himself sifting through the trunk of clothes used in past plays, searching for the thickets jackets to cover you up with, realizing that the sweater you had on now wouldn’t keep you from freezing to death. 

He found one, a fuzzy army green zip up, many many sizes too big for you, but it would work, “Put this on, please.” 

You paused your conversation with Will, peeking back over your shoulder to where Eddie was holding the jacket out for you. Your limbs extending themselves as he fitted the garment over your body and reached forward to zip it up for you. 

“If any of you catch hypothermia, I’m not responsible.” He joked, grasping your hand as you all made your way out of the classroom and out the double glass doors of Hawkins High where you could see two figures in the distance, throwing snow up in the air and jumping. 

The brisk air roused over your face, much crisper than hours ago when you and Eddie walked through the same parking lot, thought then, only a few inches of snow were already beginning to melt on the sidewalk. Now there were piles and piles of it. Eddie’s van sprinkled with the white flecks, probably going to be an inconvenience later on, but right now Eddie wasn’t focused on that. 

“Eddie look!” The ginger yelled out as you all got closer, her finger pointing to the right where a snowman stood unbalanced, but still a snowman nevertheless. 

Eddie snickered, nodding his head and squeezing your hand. “Red! Brunette! This is my girlfriend.” 

With your freehand you shook theirs, beaming at their rosy flushed snouts and cheeks, plus their deep breaths that were fogging in the air. 

“Nice to meet you!” You shook hands enthusiastically. 

The dark-haired girl who Eddie had described to you as timid but clever smiled broadly, then looking up at your boyfriend, “She’s beautiful. How did you get her?” 

You stifled your laugh, swaying your head, as Eddie, El, and Max bantered like brother and sisters for a bit, no malice in their words but only pure laughter as the three poked fun at each other. 

“Here,” Eddie stated, sticking his hand into his pocket where he had crammed two beanies he found in the classroom. He held it out for the girls, asking them to put them on, “You’ll freeze your brains if you don’t cover up.” 

You didn’t have much time to stare at admiration for his thoughtfulness, as he had bent down to pick up a wad of snow, chucking it delicately into your abdomen, making you whoop. 

A snowball fight ensued. You, him, and his friends, racing around the parking lot like lunatics, trying not to get hit by the snowy spheres hurling your way. The campaign was now long forgotten by everyone, just basking in the Indiana sleet, and glee that sweltered through the frosty air. 

Eddie stuck by your side, trucing his promise that he wouldn’t throw anymore snowballs at you, just wanting to stay close and near. To feel your breathing and to have your voice hit his ears in proximity like it was the sacred sounds of his favorite song. You were his favorite song, his favorite voice, his favorite type of laughter—his favorite everything. Even if meant being yanked through the cold or the midsummer heat, he’d happily follow wherever you strayed. 

How do I get better once I’ve had the best?

Eventually, you all were convinced, by Eddie of course, to head over to Mike’s house to spend the rest of the afternoon drinking hot cocoa and warming up. The campaign would have to wait until tomorrow or at least until the snow stopped, and he’d come by the put back to borrowed garments and retrieve his van. 

“Mike, are sure your parents won’t mind?” You proposed again for the millionth time during the walk over to his home. 

You had just met the kid, and you didn’t want to seem like you were invading his space just because your were the girlfriend of his friend, but nevertheless he responded, politely, “I’m sure dude…Nancy’s friends are over too, maybe you know them.” 

Steve. Robin. And her boyfriend Jonathan. 

You knew about them because Eddie was also friends with them, plus you had shared a few classes with Nancy and Robin but had yet to have an actual conversation with them. The other two, Steve and Jonathan, you hadn’t met yet, only hearing stories from Eddie about them from time to time. 

When the young boy unlocked the door, hailing out to his parents that his friends were staying over for a while, he led you to his basement, everyone already knowing that’s where they were going. And the noises of the rickety wooden stairs leading you down, notified the older teens who were sitting on the couch watching an old VHS. 

“Oh, geez, come on here, take this blanket.” His older sister, the one that you knew got up immediately, flinging the blanket off of herself and enveloping it over your body that was attached to Eddie’s side. 

“Guys, this is my girlfriend—“ 

The boy sitting beside Robin with gelled hair spoke, “The one you won’t shut up about?” 

“Who else you dingus!” Robin and who you assumed was Jonathan smacked his arm, a repentant look on their face when they turned to you, “Sorry about him, he was dropped many times as a baby.” 

She was more than delighted to greet you, rising and sweeping past Eddie to give you a hug, one that you weren’t expecting, but gratefully returned. 

“Come sit. Jonathan and I will get some more blankets upstairs.” Nancy suggested, caressing your shoulder as she pulled her boyfriend off the couch and jogged back up the stairs. 

The kids had settled on the floor, instantly ejecting the VHS tape despite Steve’s protests and plugging in their gaming console where they all fought for a turn. Eventually, Steve had properly introduced himself to you, apologizing for his joke at the beginning, which you never really took with animosity, just assuring him that it was all jokes and fun. 

When Nancy and Jonathan returned with a handful of blankets and warm cups of cocoa in their hands, you were already getting to know more about Eddie’s friends. Robin reminding her friend about the class that you three all shared together back in sophomore year before any of you knew who you were. Jonathan and Steve, pulling Eddie into their own conversation, something about his next performance at the Hideout and if he would be able to get them free drinks throughout the night. 

Soon enough, it was just you and the girls, plus the kids who were still busy with the game left in the basement. Eddie and the two other guys headed out with shovels and mittens in hand, hoping to get Eddie’s van out of the school parking lot before any staff would get suspicious of the lonely vehicle parked there or worse, towed. 

You beamed when Nancy, refreshed your cup with the rich liquid, toasting up your hands when Eddie wasn’t here to warm them up himself, “Eddie really loves you, you know…he literally doesn’t shut up about you.” she smirked cheekily, observing the way your eyes twinkled at the mention of his name. 

“I’m just as head over heels in love with him as he is with me…he’s the best.” 

The two girls met eyes with each other, smiling giddily at hearing that admission. They knew that Eddie was truly content with you, like a sudden wave just washed up over him once the two of you started dating. He became softer, not in a whipped way, which he totally was for you anyway, but he was just different. A more peaceful and together version of himself. 

He talked highly of you before he introduced you to them. Telling them all about this mystery girl, who was in fact real, and enjoyed the time you had spent together. Talking about the many songs you had written, so enthralled by your ability to paint a picture with just a few words and how the guitar was just an accessory to what you were singing.

They were happy for their friend, even more so happy for you for meeting someone you knew was the best person who you deserved. 

But that was before you had lost the best you’d ever know. 

You said, there’s tons of fish in the water, so the waters I will test.

Robin’s hand reached for your shoulder, shaking it mildly. “Are you ok?” she asked with troubled eyes at your quietness.

You snapped out of the memory, blinking slowly as you found yourself standing in front of a rack of clothes in The Gap store, while Nancy and Robin conversated among themselves before noting your absent state. Now the both of them standing on either of your sides, watching you slowly come back with a heavy sigh brewing in your chest. 

“Y-yeah…sorry, just thinking.” You waved off, shaking your head, and raking back over the hangers, not at all interested in the clothes that were displayed there. 

Nancy looked over at Robin, her eyes quietly indicating worry while you were too busy trying to act like you were fine. Her delicate hand coming to stop your movement, pulling your eyes to hers again. “You know you can talk to us right? Even though we’re Eddie’s friends, we’re also your friends…we care about you.” 

It had been months since you and Eddie had officially broken up. You had already begun seeing Don, and you had fully expected that Eddie’s friends would stop speaking to you even casually if they had found out. After all, they were all Eddie’s friends before they were yours. Despite how close you got to them throughout you and Eddie’s relationship, their loyalty laid first with Eddie—you understood and respected that. 

However, they had other plans, continuing to call and check up on you after hearing the news from Eddie himself. Robin and Nancy were specifically supportive, always taking you up on the opportunity to go out to get your mind off of things and to keep up with what was going on in your life now that you didn’t spend every weekend in the Wheeler basement just hanging around. 

It was harder on the younger kids. Max and Dustin liked to joke and say, “We’re children of divorce,” knowing that their favorite couple had split suddenly in the middle of the year. They did their best to hang out with you too, tagging along with Robin and Nance when they’d say they were heading over to your place or over to Benny’s meeting you for lunch. 

Clearing your throat, you ground your lips together and peeped at Nance and Robin, “H-how is he? Eddie, I mean.. Has he been taking care of himself?” 

They each took a deep breath, side eyeing one another, then nodding at you. This was the first time in a long time that you had asked about Eddie. He was a sensitive topic that no one brought up if you were in listening distance, knowing it could trigger you. You didn’t want to seem bitter, to act as if you didn’t care about Eddie anymore, because quite honestly that wasn’t possible for you to ever feel. 

You loved Eddie with your whole existence, but you just couldn’t face the fact that you were living life without knowing it wasn’t beside him anymore. And you definitely didn’t want to hear if he had another woman already taking your place…even if that made you a hypocrite. 

“He’s umm, he’s good actually…on track to graduate, thank god.” Nancy told you freely, giving you a thumbs up that you accepted with a nod. 

Eddie wasn’t dumb, far from it. He just didn’t have a lot of discipline when it came to school. You had helped him through that, encouraging him to find more time to study and take notes so that he could take tests and pass with flying colors.

It worked.

Somehow he learned to enjoy sitting with you in the library, a comforting silence between you two as you read your textbooks and he would look over notes from class. You’d do anything if it meant helping Eddie get out of this hellhole of a school where he was trapped in for far too long. 

Robin spoke next, bouncing on the heels of her foot up and down, while she bit her lip, “He heard that you’re going out with Don now. He’s happy for you.” 

You knew Eddie was bound to find out sooner or late. It wasn’t hard to spot the preppy car and pretty boy to match it, coming into Hawkins more and more the longer you two started seeing each other. 

“Oh…” your heart shook, forehead wrinkled up as you learned about Eddie’s new knowledge about your life and how he still wished you well. 

Nance tilted her head to the side, seeking to detect what you were feeling—a mix between confusion and discontent, she supposed. 

“But—but you know, he also said that he umm, that he wants you to search the whole pond.” She inadequately tried to explain, nudging Robin for help. 

You looked up at them plainly perplexed at what the older girl was trying to explain. Thankfully, Robin stepped forward, “Yeah the pond! You know…there’s so many guys out there, and he wants you to really search it and find someone you deserve!” 

Deep down, you didn’t even want to dip your toes in that stupid pond they and Eddie were talking about.

To you it wasn’t about searching because it was useless to do so. There couldn’t possibly be anyone out there that could have been more perfect for you than Eddie. You didn’t care about money, status, or looks…any of that materialistic and superficial bullshit that everyone wanted for notoriety. 

You wanted Eddie, but you settled…you barely even searched that pond before testing out the second best you found. 

He kissed my lips, I taste your mouth

Nancy and Robin tugged you out of The Gap store, the three of you visiting a few more shops that were on the second floor before taking the escalator back down to visiting the food court. With summer approaching, the shopping center was packed with students getting a head start on basking in on the freedom and fun that came with the semester coming to a close. So it wasn’t surprising to find Max and El sitting at a table all by themselves, talking amongst one another. 

“Heeey chicas!” Robin singsonged, knocking her fist on the metal table, grabbing the young girl’s attention causing them to smile and stand up. 

Immediately they went to hug you three, urging you to take the empty seats beside them, “We missed you!” They both directed it to you specifically, resting their chins on their fists. 

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you caught up with them, “School and life are just a lot right now—I’m telling you, don’t take freshman year for granted because upperclass will kick your ass.” 

They laughed, while the older two girls agreed with you, noting how much grades and extracurricular meant to your record, which would ultimately decide if you were going to get into college or not 

“Where’s Lucas and Mike?” Nancy sought, looking around and not seeing them anywhere in sight. 

El giggled, shrugging her shoulder, while Max smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up the figure behind you, ignoring the question. 

“A strawberry snow-cone for the prettiest girl in Hawkins?” 

Hands were now covering your eyes, feeling the cold rings resting on the bridge of your nose and the high points of your cheeks. The laughter surrounded you and the voice who spoke made it obvious who it was, “Eddie, you dork!”

“Awww you caught me sweets!” He bubbled, withdrawing his hands from your eyes and you immediately tilted your head back, seeing an upside-down version of him. 

He was wearing the same t-shirt that you saw him in before you left his trailer that morning. And now he traded his basketball shorts for the classic black denim that he said matched everything in his closet. 

The smell of yesterday’s blunt still lingering on him from where you cuddled into his side, and kept him company while he smoked and you freely wrote in your journal, outside on the porch chair. 

You felt his hand guide your neck back up slowly. The chair beside you being dragged out where he sat and placed down the sweet treat in front of you, “I thought you had a campaign today?” 

You stuck the spoon into the red painted snow, taking a bite as you watched him watch you eat, “Yeah, but these dweebs wouldn’t stop bugging me about the mall.” 

He ruffled the hair on Max and El’s heads, causing them to scowl, hitting his hand away jokingly as they fixed it back into place. 

“Well, shit Mr. Charming, you got her a snow-cone but not us?” Robin tsked playfully, rolling her eyes along with the other girls for dramatics. 

You giggled at their antics, watching Eddie cackled and reach into his pocket, tossing them a $10, producing a round of ovations to erupt from the four girls who gave up on their act. 

Robin instantly palmed it, mouthing a thank you to Eddie who pretended to roll his eyes, shooing them away to give you two privacy.  

“C’mere.” He grinned, repeating your favorite simple action of him pulling your chair closer to his, knees just about hitting each other now and shoulders pressed together. 

You blushed, hiding your cheek in his shoulder, pushing the bowl and spoon towards him to take a bite, which he happily did. 

“When did you find me here?” You proposed, eyelashes flutter up at him, watching him chew the icy snow and swallow before responding to you. 

He intertwined your hands together and then spoke, “I was gonna get a corn dog, but then I noticed the girls talk to some people and I saw you and I wanted to surprise ya!” 

You melted, aweing up at his sweet gesture, kissing the skin below his jaw, “Well, consider me surprised.” You told him, wringing his hands appreciatively. 

“Can I get a proper kiss?” He radiated, eyes clouded over with longing, knowing it had been hours since he last got to kiss you. 

Your eyes drifted up, bluffing to think for a few moments, a silly game you liked to play with him to keep him on his toes, though he always knew it was just a facade too, “I suppose you do deserve a kiss.” 

Eddie crinkled his nose, a content, “yes!” spewing from him as if you’d ever decline him a smooch.

“Lay it on me, pretty.” He puckered his lips, making you giggled, wanting to pinch him and tell him to kiss you right, but any kiss from Eddie was good enough from you. 

Your lips planting against his slightly chapped ones that you had tried to coat in your chapstick, yet he hated the feel of the product, unless it was transferred from yours to his. You could still smell the blunt he had been smoking before you left—a hint of earthy. Yet notes of sweetness, the artificial kind from the strawberry syrup that coated the shaved ice and his mouth. But every kiss was swarming with Eddie—just him. The way you wanted every kiss to feel and taste like. 

But this kiss wasn’t Eddie. 

“Oookaay, wow, hello!” 

You pushed at the chest in front of you, breaking your lips apart embarrassingly quick and seeing Nancy and Robin holding the snow cone you had asked them to order for you while you took a breather and sat down alone at the table. 

But that was before Don had taken it upon himself to surprise you, greeting you with a too loud of a hello and laying an unexpected kiss on your mouth before you had gotten the chance to say hi. 

You stood up, pushing your chair out, “I’m sorry! Guys umm…this is Don. Don, these are my friends Robin and Nancy.” 

Stiffly you gestured between them, your two friends, passing him a half smile that didn’t look at all convincing to anyone, but Don was too caught up to think otherwise. 

“Cool…here’s your, uh, strawberry cone.” Nancy handed over your small bowl, keeping her eye on you and never towards Don. 

“Thanks.” You muttered, before you all took a seat, waiting to see who was going to speak first. 

It was Don. It was obviously going to be him. 

They tried, they really really tried to like him for the sake of you. But it was blatantly obvious how different Don was from you and how he made you feel. You were reserved when you were with him. You barely put a word into the conversation, instead you kept your eyes on your snow cone, not wanting to feel the eyes of your friends silently asking you what you saw in him.  

The comparisons they were making between Don and Eddie were coursing through their heads, and you could feel that. You knew that you weren’t the only one who would do such a thing. It might have been wrong to hold that expectation over Don’s head, but it wasn’t something that you were ready to compromise with. 

You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to live seeing and feeling everything that Don wasn’t when you were with him because you’d only ever want Eddie. 

He pulled me in, I was disgusted with myself

Uncomfortably, the conversation between your new boyfriend and your friends went on for a while—mostly from Don’s side. Him telling the girls about his life in Roane county, asking if any of them wanted to meet his friends in hopes of snagging themselves a boyfriend like you had…as if Nancy and Robin didn’t already have someone special in their lives. 

It was obvious that you were entirely done for the day, not having much more social battery left in you to shop in anymore stores or talk about life. You just really wanted a break from life if you were being honest with yourself. 

“You guys wouldn’t mind if I headed home early, right?” You asked them gently, pushing aside your now finished treat and looking across the table at them. 

Nancy and Robin both shook their heads, smiling tightly at you, “No, yeah, that’s fine…are you ok?” 

You genuinely smiled when Robin and Nance both placed a hand onto yours at the same time, obviously concerned, “Yeah, I just feel a little tired and I actually need to work on the song contest thing.” 

“Don, do you think you could give me a ride home?” You peered over at him and he nodded, smirking and already standing up. 

You shimmied your hands from under your friends, now placing yours onto of theirs and giving them a consoling squeeze, “Have fun you two, I’ll see you later.” 

With that, you stood up, grabbing the two shopping bags you had and looping them over your wrists. They waved goodbye to you, watching as you and Don walked side by side towards the exit of the mall, not a single reach of your hand trying to find his, but only his arm draping over your shoulders by the time you had walked through the double glass doors. 

A small crowd of people sitting on the concrete benches next to the bike rack caught your eye. And for obvious reason, because you knew it was the kids. Their bicycles were never hard to miss with the plethora of stickers that were stuck onto the metal tubes and they’re even more bright colored clothes that they sported. 

You felt like you were in a movie; the scene happening in slow motion while they followed you pass by with a guy that was not Eddie hanging over your shoulder. The man you were thinking about sat between Dustin and Will, the cigarette that was hanging from his fingertips, dropping to the floor where his foot immediately stomped it out.

Eddie went pale, despite the slight tan he had developed from being dragged outside by his friends these days. The curses and whispers coming from the young teens echoing in his ear, as he monitored your figure. Watching the way you twisted your head to try to avoid him, something he was going to do as well, to pretend he didn’t see you, possibly make up a lie and say that it wasn’t you. 

Maybe your doppelgänger. 

But he could never mistake the way your hair fell over your back, and how you took each step from heel to toe like some sort of model…a joke he like to make because it made you blush every time he brought it up. 

And most importantly, he knew your face from every angle. Having woken up beside you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. To having you staring him deeply in the eyes right in front of him, and you throwing your head back to look at him with a dopey smile upside down. 

He knew it was you no matter what illusions his brain was trying to make up, his eyes did not deceive him. 

They sure as hell didn’t deceive the way that Don pulled you into him closer, saying something funny that made himself laugh before you, then kissing your lips. 

God, you felt sick.

It was horrible enough that this was the way that you and Eddie had to finally see each other after doing so well at dodging one another at school. But this was a whole other feeling of disgust. Revulsion at yourself for being in this situation and having the guts to walk around with a man you knew didn’t deserve you. How could you be so naïve to think that the feeling would go away? Like you’d wake up one morning and forget everything that you and Eddie had…now that truly made you sick. 

And yes, I do regret how I could let myself let you go

Subtleness was never your forte. If anything, you prided yourself on being easy to ready, especially by Eddie. So it was no surprise when you were singing on the stage that you had gradually been breaking down with each verse. Your eyes welling with salty tears that traveled across your cheeks every time you wrung them shut, looking back on memories of you and Eddie that brought you here. 

Part of Eddie wondered what would have happened if you would’ve just stayed at the trailer a little longer that afternoon. Or if he called you and asked to speak about what had happened. Or just maybe if he would’ve gone about the situation differently. To tell you, he was terrified at the fact that you were so sure of hightailing it out of Hawkins after graduation. 

That he didn’t know if he was bold enough to follow you. If he’d drag you down or hold you back from your big dreams. That maybe Hawkins was really all he had to give his life to, afraid of what else the world had to offer. If outside of this town that he was already accustomed to scrutinizing him, would be the only one he could ever get used to. 

That maybe, just maybe, if you could at least be happy without him with only your dreams in sight, that he would be able to live the rest of his life soundly, in this town forever, knowing at least you made it out and did something for yourself. 

At the end of the day, it was selfish—a selfish decision that led to so much heartache and longing for one another. Never being able to keep your sights off of one another, just hoping that either one of you would burst through the door and take all the pain away. No more mistakes or being apart. That’s all you both ever dreamed of at the end of the day. 

Now, now the lesson’s learned, I touched it, I was burned.

You could have accepted everything for what it was, all that surface level shit that went down between you and Eddie. And you had tried your very best to forget him. To clear your slate, and start from scratch when it came time for Don to enter your life, but that just wasn’t practical nor realistic.

You had spent every waking moment thinking about Eddie, comparing Don to Eddie, dreaming about Eddie, crying about Eddie, damn near dying over the fact that you didn’t have Eddie anymore. 

You tried, and it hurt. It hurt too much to ever think that Eddie was just some random boy you fell in love with one day and could forget in a snap of your fingers. Eddie was this burning everlasting light that would never be blown out, not by you, not by Don, and not by any other man. 

Oh, I think you should know…

By now, you could tell you were a mess. You could sense the tears crashing on thighs where they fell from your eyes, rolled down your cheeks, and dripped off your jaw and chin. The crowd watching was now more awake than ever, sitting forward to legitimately listen in on what you were saying and how passionately you were singing the words. Thinking that it was just because it was a really meaningful song for you, but they didn’t quite understand that the meaning was sitting in the room with you. 

When I’m with him, I am thinking of you

Finally, you looked at Don. He was impassive, hands covering his mouth as he glared at you, but only before your eyes went back to Eddie’s. 

The words dripping off your tongue, when he knew that you were really trying to talk to him in this moment. To make him understand all the things you had been feeling for him and never stopped feeling for him since the day you broke up.

You’d been a constant thought in his head throughout those grueling months, yet he was too scared to ever talk to you, let alone write you a song, but here you were, doing it. 

Cause in your eyes, I’d like to stay.

The strumming of your guitar deliberately died with your last whisper like word. Eyes never threatening to shut, even with the cloudiness of tears that obscured the sight of Eddie standing up and being the first person to clap his hands together, followed by the rest of the crowd who did the same. Don and his friends were the only ones still seated in the crowd, but you didn’t care, not anymore. 

Wiping your hands across your cheeks, you stood, lowering your head in gratefulness by the kind gesture of these stranger and most notably the person who the song was about. The judges also clapped, but tried to be unbiased, not standing up and instead, letting the same woman who greeted you speak. 

“Thank you dear…that was beautiful, really. Thank you.”

You nodded your head at the judges as everyone began to settle and sit back in their chairs, while you walked off the stage and back up the ramp where you unwrapped your guitar from across your body, placing it on your chair. Don’s hand didn’t waste anytime, snatching at your wrist, and hauling you outside of the auditorium where all shit was going to hit the fan. 

Your back was against the rugged wall, watching Don pace back and forth in front of you. His hands pulling at one another, huffing obscenities under his breath that you knew were directed towards you. He eventually ceased, keeping his distance from you on the other side of the wall, looking into your eyes. 

“I don’t understand…wha—what does Eddie have that I don’t?” 

You felt almost sorry for him, the fact that he was questioning his worth rather than just understanding that it had nothing to do with him and entirely everything to do with the person you wanted. 

“Everything.” You swallowed thickly, sniffling softly and tearing your eyes away from his serious gaze, know you shouldn’t even be looking at him after the cruel words you had sung his way. 

He tried to approach you, his arms held out, like he wanted to give you a hug or something, but you stepped aside, moving against the wall, adjacent towards the auditorium doors, “Stop it, Don…you already know what this means.” 

You and him were over.

There was no way that Don could still possibly want to be with you after you had just publicly broken his heart and confessed your undying love for your ex-boyfriend that he didn’t even know was in the crowd watching. 

“But I just—I thought you said you liked me!” He lost it, roaring it out vulgarly, forcing you flinch with every word that emerged. 

Liked. 

Not loved. 

Not the way you love still loved Eddie. 

Your arms bound around yourself, demanding the guarantee to feel like you were going to be ok, when he turned and punched the bulletin board on the wall in front of you, “I don’t get it!” 

“I—I never stopped loving Eddie, Don! I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel…the things I feel for Eddie, the only person who made me feel that way—Ow! Stop it! Let me go!” 

The next performance hadn’t even started yet.

The auditorium was dead silent, faces turned towards the door where they could hear the screaming match happening between you and Don, though nobody knew that except his friends, Eddie, El, and Max. The judges weren’t even quite sure if there should be another performance after the one you had put on—no one showed as much emotion and vulnerability when it came to their original song like you did. 

Nevertheless, they sat, a little guilty eavesdropping, as the man’s shouts were more clearly discernible than your muffled replies. Not before you were screaming in pain, that is. 

On instinct, Eddie had shot out of his chair the moment he hard you say “ow!” Not caring if he was stepping on other people’s toes and feet when he stumbled his way through the cramped rows, and rushing up the slender ramp to thrust the door open. Looking right and left… to only seeing Don holding your arms against the brick wall. Based on the way his muscle bulged while he had his hands on you, let him know that Don was being more than rough with you. 

“Get your fucking hands off of her!” His feet took him directly beside the two of you, shoving at Don’s arm, forcing him to release the forceful grip he had on your wrists. 

You found yourself behind Eddie, fingers twisting the material of his flannel, wanting nothing bad to happen to him, “I see,” Don snorted numbly, clenching hos jaw, “Of course he’s fucking here to save you…did you guys plan this or something?” 

“Leave.” Eddie spoke seriously, pointing out the door when he knew that getting into a fight with this boy wasn’t something he was looking for at all. It was making sure that you were ok and not hurt.

Don just grunted, trying to look past Eddie’s figure to see you, but he didn’t allow it, not even a shred of you to be seen or touched by him ever again. Using his arms to create a barrier between you and the guy, you felt safe knowing that Eddie wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. 

The poor guy just huffed out an even heavier breath than before when his friends finally walked through the doors with him. Never looking back at you and Eddie. 

Once you two were in the clear, he turned around, bending to your level to see your face clearly, “H-hey, are you ok?” 

He was hesitant to put his hands on you.

To hold your cheeks in his hands like he did many times in the past when you were feeling too sad. Or even just giving you a hug. He didn’t know if he was allowed to do any of those things anymore, not if he didn’t know if you wanted him to. 

So when your arms instantly reached out to wrap around his body and your face buried in his chest, he knew that everything was going to be ok. His arms tucked around your body, securely holding you close, feeling your tears seep through the fabric of his shirt and press into the bare skin underneath. Your breaths warming the skin where you breathed into him. His heart thumping against your ear, the only heartbeat you were longing to feel for so long this close again. 

You two weren’t just thinking of each other anymore. 

“I missed you…s-so much.” Your voice broke finally splitting away from his chest and looking into his eyes.

He smiled, a sad yet hopeful smile, nodding his head, “I missed you too…I’m sorry for everything.” 

You closed your eyes, letting the tears run again, relishing in the feeling when he finally moved his hand away from your back to brush the drops aside with his thumbs. A peaceful smile on your face despite the contrast of your crying…fortunate that you were here with Eddie even if it meant crying pathetically like this. 

“Can—can we talk about what h-happened?” 

You hoped he would say yes, to finally work things out and maybe rekindle everything that you two still had. 

He hummed, “Yes,” with a sniffle, thumbs still working the waterworks falling until you opened your eyes.

Looking straight into him with distractions around anymore. 

His orbs were like freshly melted chocolate with pebbles from Lover’s Lake surrounding the iris. 

His cheeks flushed the same berry red as the snow day you shared together a few Decembers ago. 

His warmth that radiated off onto your body like the summer he was to your winter. 

His gentleness with you never faltering like you never had spent time apart at all. 

The pit in your stomach slowly dying from where you had thought you were to be stuck with the second best who could never amount to the perfection that Eddie was. 

And when his lips finally came down to yours, the disgust you’d been punishing yourself with leaving the moment you tasted your favorite after smoke of a blunt, combination of phoney strawberry—and Eddie. 

The lost time you had spent away thinking about one another now replaced with the reality that you no longer had to solely daydream or spend the hours reminiscing about each other and your love. It was now about making it right, standing here and not taking a damn second for granted ever again. 

You both pulled away, lips swollen and cheeks just as flushed, still staring with no words spoken, not before the auditorium doors freed with El and Max standing there with a smile, “You won!” 

Now you just needed to win someone.

A/N: all credits to katy perry for writing this beautifully heartbreaking song. I shed a few tears writing this...maybe this was a bit of a projection thing, but I was able to write this in two days without stopping. craaaazy right. anyways, please let me know what you guys think...i hope the flashbacks weren't too confusing, but if it is just inbox me and i'll be more than happy to explain!!

taglist (if you would like to be added just leave a comment!): @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world

[colorisbyshe]

July 2024 Monthly Music NYAA

Current (within the last month... or so):

"Joyride" by Kesha. We've all heard it. A return to form and a celebration of Kesha's freedom <3

I finally listened to Cupcakke's album. I know people love to harp on her obscene lyrics and humor but can I just say her instrumentals are one of a fucking kind? Some notables off the album: "Water Balloon," "Aura," "Backstage Pass," "Rock Paper Scissors," "Dora," and "Dementia." If you like these, maybe give "Catman" by TeaMarr as well.

"Skyscraper Starlight" De De Mouse. City Pop sensibilities with a modern groove factor.

"Chasing Low Vibrations" Foster the People. Not as good as previous stuff but... idk... what it is what it says on the tin. Low vibrational.

"Corazon" & "Switch It (ft Cakes da Killa, GAWD). Glossy, disco-y, and MADE to get you on the fucking dance floor! Glad to have accidentally found the latter song through Cakes Da Killa and their song "Da Dat Baby" with its gay, flashy rap. If you like those, PIVOT WITH ME, and try out "Nowhere" by Shotaro Aoyama.

"Kiss" Penicillin. Just some Visual Kei rep on this list. The sound is very nostalgic for Jrock, at least vocally. Like 1998 vibes.

"Low Threshold" Navy Blue. A rap that feels like the intersection between a confessional and a sermon.

Looking at my "Share with Tumblr" playlist... this is longer than expected so uh... kpop dumping ground?? Which is bad because these are all WILDLY different genres but... I feel like the same group of people will give them a chance so:

"Hot Mess" Aespa (chaotic, bad but compelling). "Sabotage" & "Bad Blood" KWON EUNBI (Dancey, Loona-adjacent somehow?) "Dont" Lee Chae Yeon (Bop for the girlies) "Pricey" & "Rain Drop" NCT 127 (Songs I re-imagine as Exo demos) "Sweetie" PRSNT (Jiyoon from 4minute!! In a co-ed group!! Bubbly) "XO (Only if You Say Yes)" Enhyphen (I'm obsessed with the instrumental) "All Day" Onew (I SAVED THE VERY BEST!! GORGEOUS, ENTHRALLING, musically complex and great)

Jpop and mid-2000s AMV core... I'm here for "Underground" by F5ve and its semi-viralness.

I don't think its their best album, by a long shot, and I miss how weird they were but Glass Animals did have a bit of a comeback from that HORRIBLE lead single. Notables: "How I learned to Love the Bomb," "Wonderful Nothing," "whatthehellishappening?" Indie pop / alt rock.

"Super Breath" Karen 0 & Danger Mouse. MTV Teen Wolf era ass song. For the peeps who liked older Metric but also MTV's curated playlists for their teen dramas.

"Stupid (can't run from the urge" underscores. If hyperpop intrigued you but kind of scared you, if you ran back to like... madeon but gayly... this is the song for you.

If you like previous recs of Alex Anwandter's music, give "Mi Corazón" by Tango Astral a shot. Similar vibes, perhaps more basic.

Kinda generic rock song but "Delusion:All" One OK Rock scratches an itch. Still don't think they've ever done better than "Clock Strikes" but I don't follow them much

Older songs to shout out: "Passive" A Perfect Circle (Used to listen to this and think of Sasunaru, alt rock, nu metal... ish), "Last Smile" Love Psychedelico (Jrock from 2000, close your eyes and bop your head), "Eureka" Sakanaction (more Jrock, more energetic and poppy), "Something Good '08" Utah Saints (Kate Bush Sample and made a great AMV)

[the-fiction-witch]

Serenaded

Media Nowhere Boy

Character Paul

Couple Paul X Reader

Rating Smutty!

I lay in bed, a wide smile across my lips. 

My body lay on the squeaky old mattress, the springs rough and slightly spikey, the soft cotton sheets layered and cradled around my warm bare body. The soft pillow laid under my head with the cotton cover over it red plaid the same as the duvet cover but that was mostly covered by the grey blanket. The room was set up as always with most of the faded wallpaper covered with posters and magazine cutouts of guitars and songmen, and various people of note that... I'll be honest I didn't know by their faces but I'm sure I would if I heard them, and then on top of those where notes and papers, lyrics and cords that I'm not sure I'd ever understand all written on ripped mismatched paper, some with lines, some with girds, some with flower boarders, but all with the same handwriting having scribbled away the notes needed and a colourful push pin forcing it in place.  Clothing littered the wooden floor and the old faded rug my own and his mixed in a medley of cotton, silk and wool. The Ceiling above me had a sweet scallop pattern to it letting shadows dance around it. The door to my side locked up tight for the evening and I knew a signal had been put on the outside, a do not disturb for those in the know, The window at the end of the room let light flood in, the early morning sun still an orange flow not yet enough to force the sun through the clouds, with the curtains blocking a fair bit but not all of it. The curtains blocked by the body of a figure sat at the little metal stool for the desk, his movements causing the dancing shadows of the room. The ticking of the bedside clock and the water moving in the pipes of the house sounded as inconsequential as the plucking, plinking and strumming of the guitar strings that came from the foot of the bed. 

I smiled as I turned a little clutching at the sheets to keep my body concealed as I looked at him, 

He sat there barefoot his feet on the rug, wearing only a pair of cotton boxers long enough they reached his knees lose around him with three or so buttons down the front, his trade mark guitar in hand his bare chest pressed to it as he cradled it in his arms, for a moment I was almost jealous to see how he held it, how he stroked it, how he pushed himself against it without a need to conceal himself, but I knew how foolish such a thought was. His callus fingers worked on the strings to make the gentle sounds, his face closed as he listened in, his eyes barely even fully open, his hair in its usual parting and slight quiff but messy from being in bed as well as the marks in his hair where he had greased it yesterday not removed it before bed and I, of course, had ran my hands through it almost leaving him with tracks in his hair from my nails. 

I giggled, a little as this beautiful song I was listening to him play... 

It occurred to me...

He was tuning the damn thing. 

He heard my giggle and looked up almost like he forgot I was there and a smile broke across his lips.

"Hiya Love."

"Hi, Paul," 

"You sleep alright?"

"Mhm..."

"Good," He smiled and he blew me a kiss across the room, so I blew him one in return. 

"why am I such a lucky girl?"

"Humm?"

"Why is it I get you to sit a the foot of the bed and serenade me a sweet song as I wake."

"Serenade?" he chuckled, 

"Mhm..."

"Because I love ya," he shrugged, 

"I love you too," I giggled, "But still, why do I get serenaded?"

"You like being serenaded?"

"I do,"

"Then that's why Love." 

"Will you play me a song?"

"Oh? Of course." He smiled, "What would my lady like to hear this morning?"

"Anything you like," 

He smiled and began to softly play a sweet song, his foot tapping along like his personal metronome, his fingers moving artistically and skillfully down and across the threat board strings, to create the sounds that sounded almost LP perfect. It only made my heart freeze up listening to him play for a good while, and I softly sang along with the song for him. 

Until the song was over, "You sing so beautifully,"

"I do?"

"You do, You could be a headliner with that voice and a standing Mic you know that." he smiled crossing his arms over the guitar and leaning his chin on his arms, 

"So could you, with just a mic, and your guitar."

"You flatter me Love."

"I mean it,"

"I know you do, so do I."

"I'm not a singer, and I don't wanna be."

"No?"

"No."

"Alright, if that's what you want love," he said, "But... One day you have to promise me, you'll let me write a song, I'll play, you sing, and you let me record it."

"Knowone will listen to me-"

"I will. That's all I want it for, just for us to sit and listen to. Even if no one else ever hears it." 

"You mean it?"

"Course I do,"

"I'd like that,"

"Alright, I promise. So long as you promise me something, Paul?"

"Ohh? Go on then."

"You'll serenade me waking up, from the foot of our bed every day."

He smiled, "You got a deal Y/n,"

I giggled opening my arms, he smiled and set his guitar down on its stand before he came and crawled into the bed looming over me and wrapping his arms around my waist, I stroked my own across his neck and into his hair pulling his lips down to mine, I happily kissed his sweet lips and he kissed my own with the same loving attentiveness as always, but as the kiss only intensified over time our grips on one another tightened and as any young people locked up in their rooms would, things turned... Intimate. 

My fingers knotted with his hair tugging on it slightly, stroking the soft skin of his neck, his hips rubbing on my own as his boxers tightened and his stiffness grew, his hands that had begun at my waist began to explore forcing the sheets away from us and wonder squeezing my ass and even fondling my breast as we kissed, till he pulled back a little. 

"I think I wanna be serenaded by you now love," He cooed rubbing his nose on my own,

"Ohh? I'm not sure I'll be able to serenade you as well as you serenade me." I giggled, 

"Ohh you'll serenade me perfectly love, I'm sure of it." he smirked as he moved down between my legs and began kissing my clit holding my thighs and stroking his callus fingers across my tender skin, 

"Ughhhh!" I moaned twisting my fingers in his hair fully aware I was about to be making an utter melody for him... 

[onlinekitsune]

Hello! May I request hcs of the RFA + minor trio for a reader who is a not so obvious metalhead? At first glance you wouldn't even notice they're into that music genre, since they usually collect merch, speak and even go to concerts of kpop artists, but after listening to one of their playlists on Spotify all of a sudden they get jumpscared by a heavy metal song. (It'd be funny if before that the most cutesy, cheesy, cheerful or relaxed song was playing ><) Thanks!

Just so you know, you can make the reader fem or gn, it's up to you. ^^

a/n: omg hi, of course!! i actually love this hc as a metal and kpop enjoyer! your brain is huuuge for this. I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING THIS DONE SO LATE!! thank you for requesting and for your patience!! i hope you enjoy! ;w; ♡

The Not So Obvious: Metalhead MC

♫ ₊˚.♡ — JAEHEE KANG

jaehee asked you to put on some music while the two of you cleaned up the cafe, you were a bit hesitant since your music taste was a bit... different, she had heard songs you specifically put on, having your music on shuffle and not being able to curate it made you a tad bit nervous, nonetheless you played your playlist, a handful of kpop and easy going songs played putting you in a false set of comfort, until all of the sudden an heavier song played right after, your face turned bright red and you turned to see jaehee's reaction, she placed a finger on her chin while giving you a look up and down, she flashed a soft smile as she continued to clean, while locking up you asked her about it, "I was surprised, at first. But it ended up being good music to finish up to. So, thank you."

♫ ₊˚.♡ — JUMIN HAN

you decided to play some music while making yourself a snack, you were in your own little world as your playlist echoed through the house, jumin was out seeing business at c&r leaving you to have the house alone, you loved jumin but you did appreciate the time to yourself as well, as you continued making your snack you were surprised to see jumin come home so early, his arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into an embrace, you leaned into his lost in bliss until the brashness of the guitar in the next song broke you out of it, you tried to wiggle out of his grasp clearly embarrassed from the song playing, he tilts his head as you tried to squirm out of his grasp so you could turn off the song, he was clearly surprised from the shift but leans into you, he says he'd never expected this from you but was intrigued. "Seems like you still have sides of you that I haven't seen before. Please, show me all of them."

♫ ₊˚.♡ — JIHYUN KIM (V)

while lounging around with jihyun you decided to put on one your playlists, you didn't realize it was one that you didn't organize until it was too late, an heavier song made its way on the queue list, startling the both of you, jihyun jumped slightly in his seat breaking him from his daze, you apologized and quickly went to switch it, but he stopped you, holding onto your hand as he took in the song longer, he pulled you into him, his chin rested into the crook of your neck as he continued to listen, the more he listened the more the lyrics drew him in, helping him heal parts of him that he didn't know needed healing, you spent the rest of the day showing him your favorites, "There's something about these lyrics... Would you mind showing me more songs from this band?"

♫ ₊˚.♡ — SAERAN CHOI

saeran was used to hearing you listen to your favorite kpop artists on repeat, and even went with you occasionally to pick up the newest albums and such, what he didn't expect was for you to be also in metal, when you played your music while in the shower, he could help but pause in front of the door listening in to the song playing, he asked you about it when you were finished, you were a bit embarrassed but he quickly followed it up with he actually liked it, even though he was shocked, he was also pleasantly surprised, especially since he wasn't a stranger to this type of music, he used to listen to it often, "I didn't know you also liked this type of music. You should have told me... I would have showed you some of my favorites."

♫ ₊˚.♡ — SAEYOUNG CHOI

while accompanying him on a drive, saeyoung suggested that you be the one to play your playlist this time, going as far as not starting the car until you played something, knowing his determination you ultimately gave in, as the first handful of songs played your guard got brought down, joking with him between songs and red lights, until after a cutesy song ended a heavy song played immediately after, you glanced at saeyoung nervously, you tried to read his face but failed, he quickly glanced at you squinting his eyes before returning his gaze to the road, he then dramatically asks why didn't you tell him sooner that you liked this type of music before rambling about this band in particular, "How could you keep this a secret from me! I have to show you their first album, but it's not available on any streaming devices.. I promise I got it morally!!"

♫ ₊˚.♡ — YOOSUNG KIM

you had spent the better half of the night gaming with yoosung, a daily tradition you guys shared most nights, as you went to grab a quick drink between games, he decided to surprise you when you came back, he cutely posed with your cat headphones as he waited for you to return, however you forgot to pause your music as you left, you were a bit surprised as you came back to see him be so cute but he got a surprise himself as the cute song transitioned into a much dramatic and heavier song, his expression was a dead giveaway, he slipped off the headphones and handed them to you, asking if you actually listened to that, he didn't mean any harm, he was just very surprised by your duality, "Sorry, ah! I didn't mean for it to come off that way... I was just surprised. What are your favorite songs from them? Maybe, I'll like some too!"

♫ ₊˚.♡ — RYU HYUN (ZEN)

while waiting for zen to be done with promotional stuff for his newest role, you decided to pass the time by listening to music, you were lost in your own world, admittedly you were half asleep, zen eventually joined you on the sofa in the lounge room, he gently pulled your earphone out, listening in to your music, you turned to look at him surprised, even more so when the next song to play was an heavier one, he quickly shifted beside you, zen's eyes widened as he smiled at you, he was thrown off guard but in a particular way, he teased you playfully calling you his 'sweet metal babe', though he was caught off guard only knowing your love for kpop songs, he loved seeing your duality, "This is why we're perfect for each other, my love. People have this idea of us in their mind but we're completely different in reality."

♫ ₊˚.♡ — VANDERWOOD

vanderwood entered your shared apartment as an heavier song played out from your phone, his eyes slightly furrowed looking at you, not in anger but as if he was studying you, you froze in place taken aback by his surprised arrival and being in a vulnerable state, you continued your stare off before he sighed and walked over to you, he pulled you in his arms, he muttered that he didn't really expect you to be listening to music like that, especially with the appearance you kept up, he joked that maybe you should of been a secret agent, "You really don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed. It's just music, nothing too serious. I do adore that look on your face, however."

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Witch In The Crowd

Summary: Musa loves all genres of music, Icy is a musical snob. They find each other at a show and get into a rather heated debate.

The vocals are harsh and aggressive. The lyrics are brutal and violent, unapologetically raw and accompanied by an extremely heavy and distorted bass. It beats at a volume that sometimes overtakes the vocals almost entirely. 

Towards the center of the venue bodies collide and fists flail. People fall, get back up, and plunge themselves back into the pit. There are bloody lips and brows and broken eyeglasses on the floor. Bruises and skinned knees. And pierced lips curled into smiles, coming off of adrenaline highs.

It isn’t her usual scene, that’s for sure, Musa prefers softer genres. Hip hop and rap are her favorites. Cloud rap and drill music in particular have her attention at the moment. She enjoys trap and its off-shoots now and then and has recently found herself enjoying phonk. There isn’t any genre that she won’t listen to, but there are certainly genres that she listens to less; power metal and death rock to name two. 

But a concert is a concert and she had nothing to do tonight and so she finds herself lingering at the back of the venue with a clover club cocktail in one hand and her camera in the other. A show like this, she decides, is enjoyed best from a distance.

Tonight’s crowd is lively for sure and there is liberal use of marijuana. She keeps away from the clouds of it but she can’t quite escape the smell. Par for the course, she supposes. The lights strobe in time to the beats blasting through the speakers. The strobe lights seem to fragment and segment motion. Headbanging, hands moving up, bodies running in a circle it all seems to happen in clips and snapshots beneath the lights.

Musa can’t be certain of when she had stopped paying attention to the musicians and started paying attention to the fans. But at some point, she catches a flash of silvery-blue. At first she doesn’t recognize her and she thinks that she owes that to simply not expecting to see a witch here, let alone this particular witch. But it is definitely, unmistakably Icy. Still she has to do a double take because she has never seen the woman with her hair loose, likely so she could fix a black beanie atop her head. Musa had also never thought that she’d see the witch dressed in such baggy clothes, mostly baggy anyhow; the body of the crop-top sweater fits rather tightly over her chest while the black and white striped sleeves of it cover most of her fingers. Save for the choker around her neck and the chunky studded bracelet on her left arm, it is an entirely different aesthetic for her. But she does wear it so well.

She stands at the center of the moshpit with her arms folded. She and the ten or eleven other people around her create a human island that the moshpit circles around. Now and then Icy slips herself into it and when she does it is devastating as far as pits go. For someone so slender, she is particularly aggressive. Most of the people on the ground find themselves there because of her. 

Clearly she has done this before. It doesn’t seem to both her any when she finds herself on the receiving end of a carelessly flailing arm or a particularly rough shove. 

For all of the concerts that Musa has attended, she can’t say that she has ever part taken in a moshpit. She watches Icy make her way out of the crowd, likely heading for the bar. Or perhaps to lean against a pillar or a wall. Her hair is tangled and her make up has smudged, her clothes are disheveled and, even from a distance, Musa can tell that she is breathing quite heavily. 

The witch closes that distance and props herself up on the pillar across from Musa. She checks the messages on her flip phone and slips it back into her pocket. She looks up and catches Musa’s eye. Musa gives her a small nod. 

Only because she hadn’t expected Icy to take it as an invitation to come over. 

“I didn’t realize that you listened to this kind of music.” Musa opens.

“I like what I like.” Icy replies plainly. “This is more of Stormy’s scene but she couldn’t make it tonight and didn’t want to let her ticket go to waste so…”

“With the way you were throwing those men around, I’d say that you’ve done this before. You were kind of terrifying to watch.”

“Don’t go to many metal shows, do you?” 

“Not really, no.” Musa confesses. “This isn’t really my scene either.”

“Pop?” She guesses.

Musa shakes her head. “More traditional forms of rap and hip hop. The kind with less guitars.”

“If it doesn't have guitars then why listen to it at all?” Icy shifts her weight from one foot to the other. 

“For the rhythm and flow of clever lyrics.” Musa replies. “Because the vocals are impressive. Just because it doesn’t have a guitar doesn’t mean that it’s not good.”

“I guess you can say that…” She slinks her way over to the bar counter. “If you have no taste in music.” She turns to bartender and orders herself one blue devil cocktail.

“Are you aware that you’re talking to a music fairy.”

Icy shrugs. “I don’t discriminate; music faeries can have dreadful taste in music just like anyone else. Usually they do.”

“Maybe you’re the one who has terrible taste!”

“Have you ever listened to the kind of music I do? Or do you just listen to generic pop, rap, and that techno shit?”

“What do you have against techno!?”

“It takes no real talent to produce. It’s all machines and synth…or something. I don’t know how it’s made.”

“But you can say that it takes no talent to make?”

“Confidently, yes.” Icy replies. “I imagine that it only takes hitting a few buttons.”

“And arranging beats, and picking a good pitch, finding a good tempo, and you have to equalize and compress the track correctly, and…”

“And I don’t really care. I just know that I don’t like it and techno doesn’t require nearly as much talent as death rock and post punk.”

Musa sighs, she really shouldn’t have drawn the witch’s attention. She should have known that she would come around just to pick fights and take jabs. “Well it was great talking to you but that pillar I was leaning against was much better company.” Musa is satisfied to see that Icy looks at least a little shocked or offended. Perhaps a good and well-deserved touch of both.

“I’m a great conversationalist!” She declares.

“Yeah, maybe if you’re talking to a troll or something.”

Icy blinks.

“I come to concerts because I actually enjoy the music and I’d like to get back to that.”

“I actually enjoy this music.” Icy insists. “The lyrics resonate with me.”

“They’re singing about beating someone up right now.”

“Exactly.” She takes a sip of her cocktail. “And it has guitars so the music is listenable. Have you ever listened to death rock.”

“I’ve listened to a whole lot of genres but not all of them…”

“So that’s a no then?”

“That’s a no.” Musa reluctantly confirms.

“Well you should try it.” She gives her glass a little twirl and watches the ice settle. 

“Are you trying to get me to become a witch?” 

Icy shakes her head. “Just trying to get faeries to listen to real music so that I don’t have to hear shitty pop tunes everywhere I go.” 

“Maybe you should branch out and try new genres.”

“No thanks. I like what I like. I have no interest in liking more things.” 

Musa nearly snickers out loud. No wonder the witch is so disgruntled all the time; she drastically restricts the amount of things that she is allowed to enjoy. “Well, I for one, enjoy finding knew things to enjoy; what death rock bands would you recommend?”

Icy hums, likely she hadn’t anticipated Musa actually inquiring. “I like MossGrave and Edwin The Crow.” She throws the rest of her drink back and sets the empty glass back on the counter. “You know where to find me after you’ve given it a listen.” And with that, just like the melting of winter snow, Icy slips back into the crowd.

.oOo.

She doesn’t know why, but she actually does take the witch up on her offer to listen to ‘real’ music. And she has to admit that she kinda digs it. Edwin The Crow  is darkly enchanting and his vocals are lovely. Like wine and black roses. It is classical music with a twist and his voice is so deep. MossGrave is more abrasive, their songs have a good degree of distortion.

She decides that she can appreciate this kind of music especially when she looks at their vocal techniques. It is all really well put together. 

She is strangely eager to share her opinions with Icy and perhaps ask for more recommendations.

But it isn’t for another two weeks before she runs into the witch again.

By which time she has delved deeper into the genre on her own.

“Maybe we can see a show together.” It is a pretty unconventional greeting so she can’t blame Icy for tilting her head and furrowing her brows. “I listened to MossGrave, they’re pretty rad.” She clarifies.

Icy crinkles her nose. “You want to attend a deathrock show? And you want to attend one wearing that?” She gestures to Musa’s baggy blue jeans, white sneakers, and her red sports bra. 

“I can throw on a bomber jacket. I’ve got this cool one made of red silk, it has a record and a music note embroidered on it.” She supposes that she should be happy that Icy is even humoring her interest.

Icy rolls her eyes. “You can’t attend a deathrock show wearing that.” She scoffs. “There’s an aesthetic. Some clubs won’t even let you in…”

“Then I can borrow some of your clothes.” Musa shrugs. 

Icy pinches the spot between her brows and Musa can’t fathom why. “You can’t just slap on a choker and a black shirt and call yourself goth…”

“I’m not going to call myself goth, I’m just going to wear one goth outfit to one show and…”

“Throw my reputation under the bus for bringing a poser.”  Icy fills in.

“So let me get this straight; I can listen to the music but I’m not allowed to see it live?” 

“That’s right. You can enjoy a few songs but you aren’t a real death rock fan if…”

“Oh so you are one of those people.” Musa quirks a brow to accompany her half smirk.

“One of those people?”

“Musical snob.” Musa shrugs. She should have known that the woman would be. “Always prattling on about what is and isn’t real music. Or how I can’t be a real MossGrave fan if I can’t name ten songs and the name of the bassist.” She pauses. “For the record, I can. I listened to their entire self-titled album and their Yellowed Bones EP. Their bassist’s name is Crypta.” 

Icy opens her mouth and closes it again. “Yes well, it isn’t just music it’s…”

“A lifestyle?” Musa laughs. “You know that casual fans exist, right?” 

“Whatever.” Icy folds her hands across her chest. “You know one deathrock band and you think that you’re part of the scene.”

“I also listened to Wilona and the Whispering Witches, The Velvet Capes, and Vivian’s Cobweb.” 

“Big deal, anyone can name the three big names.”

Honestly, Musa isn’t sure why she is even trying to make nice with the witch. Maybe it is because she can tell that, in her own way, Icy  is trying to be more social. Trying to pick up the pieces of her life now that she has been released from Light Rock. Really there is no better way to connect with someone than music. It probably makes her feel normal to be arguing over music and fashion instead of battling over the fate of Magix. And so Musa engages. “A Misty Tendril Unfurled At Midnight.” Musa replies finally. And is rewarded with Icy sputtering. She adds, “I know, super underground, right? Do I get to be a real deathrock fan yet or do I have to wait a year or two?”

“Ugg, whatever.” Icy mutters again. “This is why we don’t let faeries into the scene.”

“Because you’re worried that they’ll know more about the music than you do?” Musa knows that she should stop jesting now before the witch gets truly angry and retracts her invitation. With a sigh she amends, “look I just want to go see a show with you, I know that you, Darcy, and Stormy have been trying to…get used to being in the real world again.” 

“So you’re trying to make a charity case of me?”

“Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed talking to you at the Lil Brxken Sxul show, even though you were super condescending. You seem to care a lot about the types of music you enjoy and…I don’t know, it’s kind of nice to meet someone else who is passionate enough about music to argue over it. I was hoping that we could do it again sometime but with music you actually like.”

“What makes you think that I don’t truly enjoy trap metal?”

“Because plenty of people say that trap metal isn’t real metal and that you aren’t a real goth if you like any subgenre of rap music.”

Icy folds her arms across her chest. But Musa swears that the witch is at least dully amused at her wit. “Fine. But only because you are my charity case. Your current taste in music is terribly sad, but there’s still hope for you. Unlike Stella…and Stormy.”

She’ll take it. “What’s wrong with Stormy’s taste in music?”

“Have you ever heard an ogre try to sing?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about a duck?”

“I…no.”

“Well Stormy has. And I had to suffer it too. Of course, Stormy actually enjoys Knut’s musical endeavors. It’s quite dreadful.”

Now she is intrigued. “You’re going to show me that song, right?”

“Even I’m not that cruel.” Icy grimaces. 

And Musa laughs. “But you will let me raid your wardrobe?”

Icy sighs. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to look like an idiot when I bring you as my plus one.” Before Musa can ask she adds, “yes, this is an invite only event.” She pauses. “Don’t make a fool of me.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She promises. She can’t, however, promise that it won’t happen anyways. She does want this to go well. Whether she’ll admit it or not, Musa can tell that Icy is happy to have someone else to talk to aside from just Darcy and Stormy. She has been struggling much more than the two of them to branch out and make connections.

Musa slings her arm over Icy’s shoulder, she tries to anyways, she can’t reach that high. The witch doesn’t shake her off. 

That is as good a sign as any.

[leonsleftbicep]

i dont like random guys at least ten years older then me coming up to me to test if im a fan or not…

the description i put: based on an actual conversation i had with a guy at the reinfaire. it was so bad (bad in the way he brushed past the fact i said i liked the first two ep’s and then started talking about possible prior projects) that i slipped into my work voice. dude was flaunting his stupidity.

the full story is fucking goofy and full of me not wanting to talk to this man hold on

i was going to go walk somewhere (i think it was to go dance to the viking metal band playing) and some guy (who i now guessed his name was ryan because he looked like it) comes up to me to say he loved my vessel costume says hes been into the band a while and asked me “whats your favorite album?”. i answered tpwbyt because the one and two ep’s aren’t albums. he then asks me if i listened to the newest album, which yes i have.

(major factor in this conversation is that i didn’t start with my usual “ive been a fan for almost two years” like have every time someone starts to ask questions about the band)

he then lists off his favorite songs (all of are in tmbte). saying specifically “the summoning which everyone one loves the summoning” i straight up burst out with the most aggravated tone “the summoning is good, but everyone calls it baby making music. which haha no they are very very wrong. and it only got popular because of astarion”. as if that wasnt a dead give away as to how i feel about people that don’t do their research on the band. or even go read their wiki at least once.

he then asks me my favorite song, my favorite is distractions.

dude looks at me were my eyes would be in the mask and goes “ive never heard of it” and then says hes heard high water which is “like the last track” and then says ive heard mine and some other song.

at this point im a little tiffed about this because im having to deal with a guy and now his girlfriend who is just watching this.

then my voice completely changes and i go “yup its on there” i almost told him “its in their 2021 album, this place will become your tomb, its track 8 titled distractions”

then he asks “have you heard of [fandom know previous project]?” and i just go “uh huh i have” and just look at this man with a death glare full of please dont say the mans name.

he didn’t luckily but he did say he thinks because of one of the lyrics and i just go. “dude, hes just putting down the coordinates for you to find him”

and then he knew, i know way to much about the band.

and i didn’t fully see it but his girlfriend definitely looked like she knew he fucked up

this was also in front of both my siblings and my sisters husband who know me very well