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I'M YOUR FIRST ANON <33
...what do you mean it'll happen again... SPARE ME
- N
yes you are thankfully 🙂↔️
listen im TRYING to not make my next fic gut wrenching but i can’t help it
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you ever miss that old community 😞
ofc i do but im ngl considering some of you even remember that account it just feels the same except less chaotic LMAOO but i just started this account so we’ll see where this goes
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how come you stopped writing on there?
got severely burnt out from writing like my writers block felt like torture plus i just wanted to start over with new community
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awwww omg really? so sorry to hear I hope you feel better girl, I hope they didn’t hurt you or anything I literally feel you even though I don’t know how long this was ago <333
hey its all good babe !! it was lowk awhile ago so im just livin my best life atp i hope ur all good tho considering you feel for me 😭
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GIRL IM SORRY 😭 LIKE DIDNT YOU ACTUALLY DATE ONE OF THEM I FORGOT HER NAME aren’t you guys like still together ☠️☠️☠️☠️ if not my badddd
LMFAOOO it’s all good honestly im surprised people from that old blog found me here its cool tho!! but also not anymore nah
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omggggg girl I think I know why you’re so familiar you literally had a crazy love triangle with like two newjeans stans 😭😭😭😭
yoo LMFOAOOO dont even remind me of that it was SO crazy like that summer was something else… 😭😭
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…okay listening to music and writing angst is so real though
Thank you for putting my heart back together 😔 you’re the best <33
Wait hehe can I be N anon 👀👀
deadass like once i got music playing the gears in my head just start turning
you’re welcome i just hope it dont happen again (it will)
and YES YOU CANNNNNN 😝
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y/n need to stand on business bc how you gonna let megan do you like that
shiiittt if i was y/n i would’ve not stood on business either have you seen the woman 💔
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the angst in that megan fic is crazy 😀 wth my heart just like ripped apart... NOT COOL
sorry love lemme put your heart back together real quick hold awn..
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your name IMMEDIATELY gave it way queen
damn deadass?? shit i shouldve gone by a different name then 🏃♀️💨
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user useblond i know what you are (cosmons)
not too much LMAOOO but seriously how do you genuinely remember that account it feels like i made it years ago 💔
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Uninvited─ M.S

ᯓ★ synopsis: megan shows up at your door after months of silence, seemingly remembering you only when it’s quiet.
ᯓ★ warnings/tags: megan x gn!reader, angst & fluff, lowk toxic? idk megan and reader are just on and off, reader also folds easily even though they act tough but yk what it’s megan so its okay! (w.c: 2.7k)
ᯓ★ a/n: i wrote this at like 3 am 🙂↔️

Megan never knocks.
She just shows up.
But that was before.
Before the silence. Before the nights without a single message. Before your phone stayed dark for weeks — then months.
Now, the soft buzz of your phone in the dead of night is a shock. The screen glows with Megan’s name, the words simple but heavy.
Megan: you up?
Your heart drops, cold and sudden, like a stone in your chest. A flood of memories rushes in — all the times you waited, all the times you wondered if you’d ever hear from her again.
You blink, eyes wide in disbelief. Is this real? After everything, after all the silence, Megan is reaching out again?
For a moment, you just stare at the screen, breath caught, frozen between wanting to ignore it and the ache of wanting to know.
Curiosity wins.
Your thumb trembles, hovering over the keyboard before you finally type.
Y/N: door’s open
No questions. No anger. No begging. Just a quiet yes.
Megan steps inside soaked, hair clinging to her face, eyes not meeting yours. She shrugs off her hoodie and places it on the back of the kitchen chair like she still lives here. She doesn't.
You watch from the doorway, arms crossed.
“Bad night?” you ask, voice even.
Megan causally shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”
You nod, and the two of you fall into silence — the kind that stretches, filled with everything unsaid.
Megan sighs, flopping onto the couch and rubbing her eyes, "Tour has been so crazy! I'm so glad tomorrow is our break, it was fun obviously but damn I’m so-"
"Why are you here?" you cut.
The question doesn’t land like a slap. It lands like truth. Sudden, sharp, and overdue.
Megan pauses mid-ramble. Her legs tuck under her, fingers tightening around the hem of her jeans. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” you step further into the room, arms still folded, “why are you here, with me, when you have a hotel suite downtown and a fan account dedicated to tracking your location?”
Megan shifts on the couch. “I just wanted to see you.”
“You left me, Megan.”
Megan’s mouth opens, then closes, careful with her words.
“I didn’t leave you,” she says, though even she seems unsure.
“You left,” you repeat, voice quiet, but sharp. “And you left without even letting me know. Do you know how that feels? You just disappeared, for god’s sake!”
The words hang heavy in the room.
And for a moment, it’s not night anymore.
It’s August, and the sky outside is that same unforgiving blue — too bright, too cloudless, like it doesn’t know how to grieve with you. You blink against the light leaking in through the window, but you already know she’s not there.
It’s been days since Megan left.
The bedsheets beside you are still messy where she used to sleepover, like part of you refuses to smooth them out. Her scent’s faded from the pillow. The gray hoodie she always wore? Missing. The Polaroid that used to be taped to the back of her phone — the one of you two sitting by the beach, laughing mid-take— isn’t tucked into the mirror anymore.
No note. No goodbye.
Just absence.
Then you texted once, twice, three times.
Y/N: Mei?
Y/N: Where have you been?
Y/N: Your mom can't even tell me where you are, what's going on?
The messages stayed delivered. Not read. Not answered. The day slipped into night, and you sat on the couch until your phone died in your lap, still waiting.
Meanwhile, a quarter of a world away, a dance studio tucked inside the glossy heart of Los Angeles, with black floors, fluorescent lights, mirrors from corner to corner.
Megan was kneeling against the back wall, chest still heaving from the final round of choreography drills. Sweat clung to her jaw, the collar of her shirt soaked. The rest of the girls were spread out across the floor, refilling water bottles, fixing their hair, giggling over inside jokes.
Her phone buzzed.
She didn’t check it right away — too dizzy, too sore — but when the vibrations came again, something in her stomach twisted.
She grabbed her phone off the floor and leaned her back against the cool mirror, legs sprawled out. Her thumb unlocked it, and then she saw it:
Y/N: Mei?
Y/N: Where have you been?
Y/N: Your mom can't even tell me where you are, what's going on?
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her throat tightened like she’d swallowed glass.
She blinked hard, trying not to let her vision blur. But it did. A sting behind her eyes. A tightness in her chest.
“Megan?” Lara’s voice cut through the music still playing faintly from the Bluetooth speaker. She was crouched nearby, sipping a neon sports drink, brows furrowed in concern. “You good? Someone keeps blowing up your phone.”
Megan swallowed, flipping her screen over like it burned.
“Just... someone from home,” she mumbled, wiping under her eyes quickly. “It’s nothing.”
Lara didn’t look convinced. “Is that the same girl who sent you that voice memo last week? The one you wouldn’t listen to?”
Megan gave a breathy laugh, but it was hollow. “Yeah. That’s her.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Lara softened.
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
Megan nodded.
And maybe that was worse — the fact that she wanted to talk about it. That everything in her wanted to scream, "I miss them, I love them, and I don’t know how to stop loving them knowing they probably hate me after leaving out of nowhere."
But instead she said nothing.
Instead, she tucked her phone under her thigh, leaned her head back against the mirror, and let the tears roll down quietly — the only sound now the soft thud of another practice song beginning.
Your eyes are still on her.
“The academy told me I couldn’t—”
"Let anyone know, yeah I know, I watched it.”
“And I supported you,” You continued. "After I found out where you disappeared to, knowing how much you wanted this." Your voice doesn’t raise. That’s what makes it worse. It’s calm. Measured. “I watched every teaser. I stayed up to stream your debut single the second it dropped. And I kept waiting for you to call.”
“I couldn’t—”
“No, you just didn’t.”
Megan looks like she wants to argue, but the words aren’t forming.
“You don’t text for weeks, months even. Then you show up soaked at 2 a.m. like we’re still us. Like the in-between parts don’t count.”
“I missed you.”
You laugh — soft, disbelieving. “You miss me when things are quiet. You miss me when the crowd stops screaming.”
Megan swallows hard. Her voice lowers. “I think about you all the time. Even on stage. I’ll be singing something random and suddenly I’ll remember that night in your room — when I heard you humming it as you got ready for bed because it was your favorite song.”
Your lips twitch, like the memory almost makes you soften. But it doesn’t.
“You remember me in fragments,” you say. “When you’re lonely. When the hotel lights are too bright. When none of the other girls ask how you slept.”
Megan stands slowly, barefoot on the hardwood. Her voice is gentle, almost broken. “Everything happened so fast. We were just... us. And then I became her. The one in Katseye. I didn’t know how to be both.”
“You didn’t need to be both,” you say. “You just had to choose me once in a while.”
The room stills. The rain has quieted to a hush now, like even the sky knows not to interrupt.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Megan whispers.
“You didn’t need to mean it. You just had to do it.”
The apartment is dim, lit only by the soft amber spill from the kitchen stove light and the bluish cast of streetlamps filtering through the rain-slicked windows. Outside, the city hushes — cars passing like whispers, the rain now faint.
Megan looks at you — really looks. Her throat bobs. Her hand twitches like she might reach out. But she doesn’t.
“you know, I thought maybe,” she says, “We could just pretend. For tonight. Be like us from before all this.”
She takes a hesitant step closer.
You don't respond, but you don't move away. Your arms are still crossed, back nearly brushing the hallway wall. Your breathing is quiet but shallow, like your lungs don’t quite trust what’s happening.
Megan moves gently. Slowly. She steps until there’s only a few inches left between the two of you. Her eyes flick up, searching yours, but all she finds there is exhaustion — and something else. Anger. Hurt. A wall that’s stronger than before.
Your voice breaks the silence, sharper than you intend. “Why now, Megan? After everything? You think one night can fix years of being left behind?”
Megan flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not trying to fix everything tonight,” she says softly. “I just— I missed you. I needed to be near you.”
You shake your head, bitter laughter escaping. “Missed me? You left without a word. Didn’t call. Didn’t text. Nothing. And now you show up uninvited, soaked and tired, expecting what? That I just forget?”
Megan’s voice sharpens, a flicker of frustration breaking through the sadness. “Then why did you even answer the text? Why did you open the door?” Her breath catches, voice softer now. “If you didn’t want me here, why did you let me in?”
Your fists clench. The anger twists tight in your chest, but Megan’s words hit a nerve — the question lingering between you like smoke.
"Because I'll just leave, tell me the words and I'll be out."
“Don’t say that like it’s easy. Like walking away doesn’t hurt both of us.” you retort.
Megan’s hands lift slowly, palms open, offering peace without pressure.
She leans in a little, voice warm and steady. “I don’t want to fight. Just let me hold you. For a moment.”
You hesitate, breath shaky. And your eyes dart away, then back at her.
Your hands are still at your sides, fists slowly unclenching. You don’t know what you’re reaching for — comfort, closure, or something in between — but your fingers twitch with the urge to try.
Megan’s expression softens. She doesn’t move. She just waits.
There’s a moment — one long, fragile beat — where you almost step back. Almost tell her no. Almost say this is too much, too soon, too raw. But something in her eyes — the way they’re holding your pain like it’s her own — keeps you there.
You take a slow, shaky step forward, your hands rising like they’re remembering the shape of her — not sure where to land until they settle, gently, at the small of her back.
Her hoodie’s still damp, cool against your fingers. But beneath it, she’s warm. Solid.
“This won’t be bad, right?” you whisper to yourself more than to anyone.
Megan leans back just enough to look at you. The city light catches the wetness at the corners of her eyes. She searches your face like it holds the answer to everything she’s lost. Then, softly, she kisses you.
It’s tentative. Shy. A question shaped like a touch.
And you freeze.
Just for a second.
Then something lets go — a breath, a year of tension — and you kiss her back. It’s slow. Careful. Full of heartbreak. Full of every word you wanted to scream but never did. Full of all the pieces of you Megan forgot to pack.
You both make your way to the couch in silence, every movement deliberate, as if speaking might break the spell. You fall into old rhythms — Megan reaching for the same faded blanket you used to share, you curl up on the same side you always did. The scent of detergent, worn fabric, and Megan’s rain-soaked clothes fills the space. The hum of the refrigerator feels louder than usual. The apartment is still — like the world is pausing just for you both.
You lie curled together. Your head rests just beneath her collarbone, her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt like a habit she never unlearned. Your legs tangle easily, like they never forgot how to fit.
And for a moment, it feels easy. Familiar.
But your hand trembles just slightly.
“You can’t just show up like this,” you murmur, voice fragile.
Megan nods, her words exit like a whisper, “I know.”
“I’m proud of you, Megan. Really. You’ve done things I never could imagine — you’re out there chasing your dreams, making it happen.”
Your breath falters, a flicker of sadness breaking through. “But I’m also disappointed. Disappointed that you left me behind. That you thought silence was the answer. That you chose to disappear instead of fighting with me.”
Megan’s eyes flash with pain and frustration. She shakes her head, voice breaking but firm. “What was I supposed to do, Y/N? Get caught? Get in trouble? I was trapped between losing everything I worked for or losing you. I didn’t know how to be both.”
She swallows hard, voice softer now. “I thought if I stayed quiet, it would hurt less. But I know, I'm an asshole for not saying shit." She rubs her face with both hands.
You swallow the lump in your throat, voice barely a whisper. “I just want to know if I’m still part of your dream too.”
Megan’s hand finds hers, squeezing gently. “You always have been.”
“and I need to know you’re not going to disappear again.”
Megan sighs, voice catching. “Listen I wanted to text you. So many times. But every time I started, I thought about what could happen. The academy watches everything. If they saw, I’d get in trouble — maybe worse. I was terrified I’d lose this chance. Lose everything I worked so hard for... even if it meant losing you too.”
“But I love you,” Megan whispers. “Gosh, I love you. That never changed. It was just... complicated. I didn’t want to risk this breaking completely."
You cry quietly, and Megan holds you tightly — kissing you softly, tears spilling from her own eyes.
But Megan sniffles again, brushing a stray damp strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your forearm, hesitant but seeking comfort. “You know,” she says softly, voice still shaky, “I never got to finish telling you about that night I stayed up trying to write that stupid song for you.”
“The one where you cried because the lyrics sounded like a bad soap opera?”
Megan laughs—small, a little broken. “Yeah. I spent hours scribbling nonsense, then deleted it all because it didn’t feel real enough. I guess… I wanted it to sound perfect. Like us.”
You shift, fingers tightening around Megan’s hand. “Perfect like us never was. But maybe that’s okay.”
Megan’s head lifts just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple, eyes closing briefly. “Maybe it is.”
You dissolve into quiet laughter — the kind that doesn’t need to be loud to be real. The kind that tiptoes around the cracks but still finds its way in. Your shoulders shake gently, and the tension in the room begins to loosen — like exhaling after holding your breath too long.
You feel it first — the moment Megan relaxes against you. It’s subtle. A shift in weight. The way her body softens, no longer holding itself up, no longer bracing for rejection. Just… settling. Trusting.
But you never fully relax.
And your right not to.
You fall asleep tangled together, tucked under the weight of old memories. Megan talks about how she kept the missing polaroid in her makeup bag, how she never let the other girls borrow that hoodie, or how she still hums your favorite song when no one’s listening.
But you don’t talk about tomorrow.
The light is soft when you wake up. You reach over. The bed is cold.
You sit up slowly.
Megan’s hoodie is gone. So is her phone charger. Her shoes. Her scent.
On the kitchen table, folded in half, is a note:
i am so sorry. i wanted to stay. but wanting and being able to are not the same thing. youre still apart of my dream, the one I'm determined to reach next. god, i love you. i never stopped. don’t wait up. — M
You stare at it for a long time. The words don’t surprise you.
They hurt anyway.
You fold the letter carefully — once, then twice — then crumple it in your fist until the corners dig into your palm.
You don't cry this time. You just stand there in silence.
This time you walk to the door, locking it behind you.
And you don't even check your phone.
Some things never change.
Like the rain.
Like the silence.
Like waking up to find Megan gone —
again.
#katseye x reader#katseye imagines#megan skiendiel#daniela avanzini#lara raj#manon bannerman#sophia laforteza#jeong yoonchae#megan x reader#megan skiendiel x reader#katseye scenarios#katseye#katseye fic#katseye megan skiendiel#katseye megan#megan icons#megan skiendiel katseye#girl group imagines#wlw#megan skiendiel thoughts 💭#girl group x reader#girl group scenarios#katseye fluff#katseye angst#katseye x you
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do yk user cosmons? you sound familiar lol was that your old acc
damn people actually remember that account 😭 but yes thats me !
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holy shit over 100 notes on this?? thank yall so much!
Figure Me Out ─ D.A
ᯓ★ synopsis: one night at a dimly lit bar, a quiet connection sparks between you and a girl dressed in all black—hiding behind mystery, her eyes tell you a story you want to pry into, drawn in by the weight of unspoken truths.
ᯓ★ warnings/tags: daniela x fem!reader, angst, fluff?? (but a pretty minimal amount), drinking, daniela also goes by her middle name for like almost the whole story, (w.c: 2.5k), lowercase intended, lmk if i missed anything else
ᯓ★ a/n: coming back to tumblr after deactivating my previous account so first fic in AWHILE !! rushed the story just a lil guys.. i just really wanted to post dawg so sorry if this is lowk ass </3
you lay stretched out on the playground bridge, the world quiet around you. the wood—or maybe the rope beneath you—gently shifts with the breeze, cradling you like a hammock suspended in the sky. above, the stars scatter across the night like glitter on velvet, and the faint hum of distant traffic mixes with the soft creaks of the playground settling into silence. the air is cool, brushing your skin just enough to remind you you’re alive, but not enough to make you move. it’s peaceful here, between two slides, halfway to nowhere, with nothing pressing but the rhythm of your own breath and the feeling of the night holding you still.
your phone had been turned off, shoved into the pocket of your jeans as you blink away the tears that begged to come out your eyes.
the cause of your emotions?
andrea.
she was someone who came into your life spontaneously, without any warning, the girl had practically graced you with her presence at the bar in which you had always been. she was all alone, dressed in all black in hopes she wouldn’t be seen, yet you saw through the hat, those eyes that lured you in.
you were leaning against the bar table, half lost in your drink, when you notice her slip in through the side entrance. you didn’t pay any mind at first, despite her all black outfit being stuck out like a thumb. but nonetheless it was just another shadow moving through a dimly lit room. but then she glances up. just a flicker. and through the shadow of her hat, you catch her eyes dark, steady, and quietly electric. they don’t ask for attention, but they hold it anyway, like they’ve been watching long before you noticed. there’s something about the way she carries silence like a secret, like a dare. you don’t even know her name, but you already want to know what those eyes have seen, and if they’ll ever look at you the same way twice.
you push yourself off the table and walk carefully, toward the woman who continued to look at you. you crack a smile but she doesn’t return one, only looking at you with a blank stare.
“hey ive never seen you around, whats your name?”
she tilts her head, “is this a local bar or what?”
“well sort of, everyone kind of just knows everyone here.” you awkwardly stand in front of her, fiddling with the drink in your hands, “so uh your name?”
“buy me a drink and i’ll let you in on my name” she smiles but it wasn’t genuine, more like the kind of smile you wear when you know something no one else in the room does—quiet, unreadable, and laced with a secret she had no intention of telling.
she turned her gaze back to the bar, fingers tracing the rim of her empty glass, she slides it towards you and you laugh, awkwardly again.
“sure.. if that what’s gonna get you to tell me” you turn your back to her and quirk a brow at how unusual the situation was. buy you a drink just to know your name? you scoff in disbelief, is this some sort of a trend now to pay less at a bar?
even if your in disagreement with it, you still walk up to the bar. you didn’t want to, but something about the girl intrigued you.
the bartender eyes you as you approach, gives a small nod like he’s seen this kind of thing unfold a hundred times. you order whatever she was having, even though you don’t know what it is. it feels like the kind of decision you’re supposed to make quickly around someone like her—like hesitating would give her the upper hand.
you slide the drink back to her and she accepts it wordlessly, the glass barely making a sound as she lifts it. she takes a sip, then finally speaks again—low, like she’s telling you something she shouldn’t.
but she hesitates before speaking, “andrea,” she says, setting the glass down. “but names don’t really mean much, do they?”
you blink. that was it? after all that?
“you made me buy you a drink for that?”
she shrugs, eyes glinting beneath the brim of her hat. “i didn’t say i'd tell you everything.”
you laugh softly, “yeah i- i guess your right.”
she hums, “and yours?”
“its y/n”
“cute name y/n, suits you perfectly” she cracks a smile, “i suppose this is the part where we get to know each other?”
you nod, “so,” you say, trying to sound casual, “what brings someone like you to a place like this?”
she swirls the drink in her glass, watching the liquid catch the light. “same thing that brings most people,” she answers vaguely. “a night to forget, or maybe to remember. depends on how it ends.”
her eyes meet yours again—steady, unreadable. the music hums low behind you, the murmur of conversation blurring into background noise.
you glance down at her drink, then back up at her. “so, are you always this mysterious, or is it just for show tonight?”
she raises a brow, lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh. “maybe I just like watching people try to figure me out.”
you chuckle under your breath, leaning just slightly closer. “well, it’s working.”
that’s when she tilts her head, eyes narrowing with amusement. “and what makes you think you’ll figure me out in just one night?”
“what makes you think i wont?”
she laughs, “you’re real funny”
“im serious.”
“then go ahead y/n, figure me out.”
you glance around the dim bar one more time, then back at her. the way her eyes catch the low light—like they’re holding some kind of secret you almost want to ask about but don’t dare. you shrug, finally leaning in closer, letting your voice drop.
“alright, i’ll play along. but only if you tell me one thing, why don’t you want to be seen?”
“how come you say that?”
you scoff, “do you see yourself? your in a all black outfit in a room filled with people practically dressed in sparkles and glitter”
she lets out a soft, almost amused sigh. “maybe I’m afraid of what people see when they look too close. or maybe… i just don’t want to get too close to anyone.”
you nod slowly, understanding more than you let on. “so the silence, the distance—it’s protection?”
“for the most part,” she says, eyes flicking to the glass in front of her, “but sometimes, it’s just easier to disappear.”
“disappear from what though?”
the words hang between you, heavier than the music or the chatter. you hesitate but reach out, gently brushing a stray lock of her curl from her face. her skin feels warm beneath your fingertips—real and fragile.
“you know you can tell me, i may be a stranger but its not like i'll just out you for whatever it is your hiding, even if you committed some crime.”
for a long moment, she doesn’t answer. then, finally, she looks up — directly at you, no shadows behind those eyes. for a second you see her eyes soften at your words, her curl coming back to hide her eye again.
“hmm it’s nothing special, i just live a life thats chaotic, sometimes i yearn for silence from it.” she answers, vaguely.
“what do you do for a living?”
she smiles, shaking her head, “that’s what you have to figure out.”
“oh come on! you cant even tell wether your some doctor or like a lawyer?!”
“well it’s none of those things i'll tell you that”
you look at her, but she doesn’t look back this time. her gaze stays on her glass, watching the way the ice melts and shifts like something far away and familiar. the smirk on her lips fades as quickly as it appeared.
“…you know,” you say after a moment, “you’re really good at not answering questions.”
she finally glances at you, eyes softer now. “maybe i just like making people work for answers.”
“maybe,” you say, “you’re just scared to tell the truth.”
something about that lands harder than you intended. but she doesn’t snap back. doesn’t tease. she just nods, barely, like you touched a bruise without meaning to.
you both go quiet again.
the music behind you fades into something slow and hushed—something a little sad. no one’s dancing anymore. the bar’s thinning out. conversations have lowered into murmurs. but you stay.
she leans back, finally lifting her head, finally looking at you like she sees you. not the stranger trying to unravel her, not the person she has to dodge. just someone who stayed longer than most would.
“you ever feel like you built a whole life that doesn’t even belong to you?” she asks. “like you’re borrowing it from someone else?”
you blink. “yeah,” you say. “sometimes i feel like i’m watching myself do things. from far away. like i’m in a story i didn’t write.”
her gaze lingers on you, and you think—no, you know—that you just said the right thing. maybe not the cleverest thing. but the honest one. the only one she needed to hear.
she exhales. “god, that’s exactly it.”
a long silence stretches between you after that. and you let it. because maybe that’s what she came here for—not attention, not a drink, not even to flirt. just to sit across from someone who might understand even a sliver of what she’s trying to hold in.
you both sit with it, and it’s strangely comfortable.
finally, she pulls a small ring from her pocket and spins it once on the table. “i tend to wear this on stage,” she murmurs.
“so your what? an actor? a singer?”
“its one of the two this time” she smiles, “but this ring was bought on an impulse, thought it was cute until i bought a better one, this one practically just holds trauma from when i used to be a little girl who trained her ass off.”
you don’t ask why. you don’t ask what happened or what went wrong.
you just reach out, gently stilling the ring with your fingers.
“well you’re not on stage tonight,” you say. “you don’t have to perform here.”
that’s when she really looks at you again—no walls, no sarcasm, no games. just tired eyes and a quiet kind of gratitude.
“thank you,” she says.
you nod.
you begin to talk much more after that. sitting beside her while the night thins out and the bar lights get a little brighter. she eventually grabs her coat and says she should go, and you offer to walk her to her car. she lets you.
outside, it’s colder than before. you both walk slow, the kind of slow that doesn’t want to end. her steps are quiet, her hat pulled low again.
you shiver from the cold, mentally cursing at yourself for not bringing a jacket. until you feel a jacket hanging around your shoulder, you look up to see her, “hey it’s fine i dont need-”
“take it y/n, last thing i want is a pretty girl like you catching hyperthermia.”
you thanked the stars that she didn’t catch the faint blush that coated your cheeks.
at her car, she pauses before unlocking it.
“you were easy to talk to,” she says. “that’s rare.”
you smile a little, not quite sure what to say.
she opens the door but doesn’t get in right away. she turns back to you, hands in her pockets. “you need a ride home?”
instantly you nod, and she opens the door of her car wider.
the city lights blur softly through the car windows as she drives you home, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between you.
every now and then, her gaze flickers your way, and you catch a fleeting smile before she looks back at the road. when you pull up to your building, the world outside feels colder and more distant than the warmth between you in that quiet ride.
she parks the car just beside the building, and sighs. “thank you for today, i needed that.”
“youre welcome” you simply say, shrugging off her jacket but she stops you, “keep it.”
“why?”
“so you can remember this night and the moment you decided getting me a drink was worth it.”
you tighten the grip of her jacket but tilt your head, “your not gonna give me your number?”
she smiles, stepping out the car and opening the door for you, “wheres the fun in that?”
you raise an eyebrow. “oh?”
“i want to. you know, get your number and all. but if i do… it won’t feel real anymore. and I liked this. i liked… not being so out there for a day.”
you nod. you understand. even if it hurts a little.
she hesitates again. then, quietly: “maybe i’ll see you around.”
you don’t say anything. just give her a soft look, one that says me too.
she gets in the car, and before she closes the door, she looks at you one last time and says, “oh and my name’s not andrea.”
and then she drives off.
you stand there in the cold for a while, dumbfounded, while clutching onto her jacket, her scent, trying to hold onto what just happened.
and the next night, you go to the same bar. just in case.
she’s not there.
so you end up at the playground. the one near your apartment, where you used to sit when the world felt too heavy.
the tears that begged to escape your eyes managed to, the jacket she gave was what kept you warm because your mind had been filled with nothing but the girl you had talked to at the bar.
your phone buzzes in your pocket. not a message. just the time.
midnight.
you sigh and open it anyway. out of habit more than anything. you scroll through your apps, through old photos, through the contact list you’d hoped she’d be in.
then, on impulse, you open google.
you type in a few words, not expecting anything to come of it.
“actor with long black curly hair, cat like eyes and a sliver ring”
you scroll.
click.
scroll.
but nothing.
you sigh, trying again but replacing actor with singer.
you scroll once again.
click.
scroll.
click.
stop.
there she is. and she’s not alone.
a photo taken from the side—hugging a group of girls with a smile spread across her face, one that was different from the bar, it was more brighter. although that same silver ring on her finger, is what caught your attention. the article beneath it lists a name.
Katseye celebrates Daniela Avanzini’s 21st birthday.
you look closely, the picture is her. the hat, the curls, those eyes. the stillness in her posture that you remember so clearly. but the name… daniela.
you blink. stare. the pieces fall into place.
and just like that, the girl you met is everywhere—and somehow, more unreachable than ever.
you lock your phone.
and look up at the sky.
because you don’t know how to find her again without losing the version of her you met that night.
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Useblond’s RULES !
okay first things first all works are made for fun and are entertainment purposes only!
most important thing: if you're requesting, specify the idol and the plot (dont be vague!) please be as detailed as you possibly can!
as of now i only write for katseye!
i dont write for male readers (sorry) i only do female readers or gender neutral.
i do not write smut related content, i can though write slightly suggestive themes but will not go as far as writing smut.
nothing too gore-y or weird yall !
please be kind and respectful <3
honestly thats about it, ill add more if anything later!
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ׂ╰┈➤ LAI!, she/her, 18+, i luv music and writing (obviously), a literal yappatronic 3000 so never be afraid to strike up a convo with me !, black and white theme bc i think it’s cute but i have color in my life guys trust… (i change themes alot)
- masterlist - recent work - rules - requests: open! -


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