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nonclassyparty · 3 months

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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw.

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.

You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios

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controversialhpmemes · 24 days

Note

Obviously hate is never okay and that message is was super shitty, I’m sorry!

But it’s also very obvious that you think canon is superior. Even with the small things— like chocolate chip versus oatmeal raisin in your response. (i know i know it’s silly but…) Based on my experience with your page, you do shit on non-canon ships in your memes and you complain about people who like those ships.

(And before you say that you’re critiquing the ships— it doesn’t feel like you’re doing it in good faith. Good faith critiques come from a place wanting something to improve because you like it and want to be part of it. You’ve made it clear you don’t like these ships and it feels like you don’t want to actually engage in productive discourse)

So It feels like the “if people just tagged correctly” argument is disingenuous. Like how do you tag a character as OOC when they don’t really have a characterization to begin with? Not to mention— I feel like sO many marauders fics are tagged as AUs anyway because they don’t take place in the magical world.

There are also so many other tags you could filter out, such as any of the ships you don’t like. If you don’t like how Jegulus treats Lily and Harry, filter out fics that having Jegulus raising Harry.

To a casual (but deeply invested observer) it feels more like you miss the focus on the older parts of the fandom and are taking it out on the newer members. If you’re annoyed with the lack of content/focus/popularity, you’re not going to change that with anti posts. You just need to find your people (which you’re doing here!) based on what you all like.

To your jokes about marauders fans not understanding or knowing the canon… many marauders fans grew up reading Harry Potter and have since become uncomfortable with how JKRs views come through in the text. Many of us have since distanced ourselves from the original canon on purpose because of the transphobia, racism, and pro-cop content. (This isn’t me trying to say that canon lovers are endorsing this, but it also doesn’t feel right when canon lovers act like they have more of a claim to fandom spaces… so many people would have loved to continue being in those spaces, but feel like Marauders is a safer space)

I don’t get the impression that people are trying to pretend they invented Harry Potter, but to some degree they largely invented the marauders characters. Obviously some characters have large roles in the canon (you post a lot abt Remadora, which makes sense) but others are barely mentioned or are only shown through specific lenses.

Like I mentioned earlier, how do you tag something OOC when there’s no original characterization? But it’s not an OC, because you’re pulling bits of the character from the world and thousands of other people have the same character (or a similar character) in their heads.

This isn’t supposed to be a gotcha moment. I’m genuinely asking bc it doesn’t really feel like tagging is the root of the issue.

One last big point: Your blog talks a ton about misogyny and fetishization of gay men. These are topics that are much-discussed in so many spaces and not even the most fanon-focused marauders fans can agree on them, but I’d like to give my two cents.

There is misogyny. Of course there is. Even as people try their best, Marauders revolves around a group of boys (it’s in the name) and men will continue to be at the center of it. That will inherently attract and breed misogyny.

However, the canon treatment and characterization of women is also misogynistic. Lily, for example, is very flat in the books. She has a few scenes (in Snapes memories, mostly) and is otherwise talked *about*. She is held up as an idyllic mother and student and person, true, but that is not a well-written character. She isn’t really a person in the books as much as she is a motivation/plot device for men around her. And this is entirely a product of JKR’s inability to write women.

Again, all of this is par for the course, and most people would agree that canon marauders-era characters are often single-note.

What feels unfair about your arguments is that fanon has added so much depth to these characters and flushed them out as real fallible humans. It’s fair to point out that fanon does this more for the men, but it feels reductive to oNLY talk about the misogyny in fandom, when canon is just as guilty by nature of the author.

On the topic of fetishizing: there’s this idea that a bunch of creepy white women are sitting at their computers writing porn about gay teenagers… when that is really a straw man argument. Maybe those people exist, and I would be more likely to believe that that’s true in the broader HP fandom… but a majority of the marauders fic authors I know (including the ones who write filthy smut) are genderqueer (transmasc esp) and are actively experimenting with their sexuality and gender. Marauders fics played a large role in my coming out as transmasc.

It’s not fetishizing if the people writing these things are closeted gay men/nonbinary people. That’s just people writing the experiences they wish they could have had.

And that’s also part of why we—I, at least— distance from canon. JKR looms over a lot. Maybe you don’t feel it, which is great! I’m very glad. But please don’t shit on people who do.

Anyway, I know this is super long and idk if you’ll even read/respond to it, but thank you if you do. If you want to engage in more discussion, I will continue to check back and DM you if you want.

Canon is superior to fanon. I do complain about people who enjoy the ships. Not only because of mistagging. Mistagging is a band-aid for the problem. It solves the immediate issue of having a fanon fandom and a canon fandom under one umbrella. That is the tip of the iceberg.

I do not want to engage in productive discourse as you put it. Not on this page. This page serves a specific purpose for me. Venting. I do not start any post with "let us discuss" or "we need to talk about". Any engagement I get is from asks like this one. People come to me to vent. It is ok.

Because it is not productive to argue about canon versus fanon. I have tried. I have failed. In this fandom it is impossible to have a good faith critique of fanon ships. Too many people treat their fanon ships as markers of their morality or personality. A good faith critique of fanon ship becomes an attack on the shipper. It goes like this:

Them: "Jegulus could be canon IF. Or Jegulus could be canon, BUT"

It is the IF/BUT that makes the discussion impossible. I do not want to talk about IF/BUT. I want to talk about what is.

OOC and canon characterisation. There are some characters that have almost nothing. Like Evan Rosier. But what we do know is he was killed by Moody. He was resisting arrest. He blew off a chunk of Moody's nose. That does not sound like a spring flower who loves justice and Muggleborns.

I am angry with newer Marauder fans because they have taken these AUs as canon. Some have not read the books by their own admission and seem to be proud of it. How do you talk about canon James Potter if you only have fanfiction? We know enough to piece together a character. We know enough that he hated dark magic, loved Lily, loved his friends. There is never ever mention of Regulus by James.

To say it again. Mistagging is the tip of the iceberg. It can solve an immediate problem. It does not solve the problem of the whole fandom. I cannot solve that. I do not pretend to try to solve that. I am incapable of solving that. I can make memes that make me laugh, make others laugh, occasionally break containment. I have been blocked by loads of accounts. I expected this and am ok with it. I have also said before I will not do this forever. I am angry and taking it out with memes. Instead of going to individual ask boxes or fics or TikTok accounts or Twitter accounts or Discord servers and harassing individuals.

I do filter. The filtering makes certain tags walls of filtered posts. If you filter wolfstar and go to the Sirius Black tag page it is mostly filtered posts. That means the tag is unusable to me.

Filtering fics. This is easy enough in theory. But fanon characterisation has become ingrained. When I filter out all the ships I do not want, I still find OOC characterisation in fics. Overly-dramatic Sirius. Alpha male Lupin. Do-no-wrong Hermione. Stupid Ron. Those are not tagged. I do the sensible thing. I click out of the fic, do not leave a hate comment, do not engage with the author or fic.

Yet I can still be frustrated and make a general meme that is not specific to an author or fic to the best of my ability. Almost everything is tagged anti marauders fandom, anti marauders fanon, or anti ship, or anti X bashing. I make it easier to filter my controversial takes. This page, one more time, is not for discussion. I open discussion with asks but it is up to the asker to discuss with me.

I will push back on your interpretation of Lily. We know more about Lily than James. You pointed out the problem. By focusing on the Marauders (men) it does breed misogyny. But we know more about the Marauders than characters like Mary Macdonald, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Hestia Jones, Emmeline Vance. If we have almost nothing for Marauders and even less for the female characters, why is fanon incapable of doing as much for them?

We cannot do anything about the internalised misogyny and transmisogyny by JKR. We can and should criticise her and her dehumanising views. It seems hypocritical to me to say "well, the author is guilty of misogyny so we should be as critical of her."

We are. The reason I push harder on fandom than on JKR is that many parts of fandom are declaring themselves morally superior, morally better, more socially progressive than JKR. Which is true in many ways. But if this is the claim, I expect more from fandom than JKR. If you know better, you do better. The Marauders fandom claims to know better. So I push harder on fandom.

It is good that the Marauders fandom encouraged you to be who you are. It is good that you felt comfortable and supported to come out as transmasc.

However we all have our echo chambers. I am guilty of it. This blog is an echo chamber often. I respond to asks like this one that are in good faith and disagree with me.

Fetishisation to me is not about writing genuine experiences or wishful thinking or wish fulfillment. It is about using an identity as an object for pleasure. Only you can decide which one is which. I have been in fandom for a long while. It is not only middle aged white women who do this. White people fetishise POC. Het people fetishise queer people. Young people fetishise. Old people fetishise. Everyone is susceptible to using another person or identity as an object for pleasure. I have seen it all over many years.

You are welcome to DM me. You are welcome to send more asks. I expect you will find my response to be insufficient or lacking. You may even block me. That is ok.

#asked #answered #anti marauders fanon #anti marauders fandom #fandom wank #fandom discourse #fandom etiquette #fandom misogyny #harry potter #fandom critical #fandom criticism #fandom culture #fandom problems

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tiredstressedemotionalmess · 8 months

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okay so. funpoistar kandi cuffs!! theyre mostly based on their guns and im gonna make kobras eventually but rn this is what ive got :D

^party's!! the center of rotates and reads "everybody pay attention to me". i thought theyd like the sparkly beads so i tried to use a lot of those, and the little gemstone kind of round yellow beads were to kind of spice it up a little more- it just needed that little extra but to feel like them yk? oh and the inside patter is meant to mimic the stripes on their gun!!

^ghoul's!! the white lines are meant to be like the white zigzag on his gun, and obviously i had to include the "horror" front and center (finding all yellow letters for that was so fucking annoying holy shit). the inside is also meant to be like the zigzag and obviously i had to use as much green as possible. the inside bit also rotates even tho its not the most practical with the lines over it just bc i think ghoul's be pissy abt party's rotating and not his and bc i it looked too empty without it

^aaaand finally jet's!! hers is the smallest bc i NEEDED it to be a star shaped cuff okay? like it was REQUIRED. unfortunately tho bc i followed their guns color scheme i feel like it ended up looking too much like a patriotic america cuff?? which maybe us fitting with the flag on the back of ber jacket and shit but idk im not crazy abt it so i havent actually tied it off yet bc im still unsure. i tried making the inner lives of the star grey to see if it helped but j might just end up replacing all the white with grey bc then it could be like a nod to her helmet. the words are the "because i said so" from her gun and i mean those beads are white anyways soooo *shrugs* yeah idk who knows maybe ill bring more blue in or something ill figure it out later :P

#my art #kandi cuff #party poison #fun ghoul #jet star #danger days #and i promise kobra i WILL start yours soon!! just gotta figure out what im gonna do with jets first

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 months

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tuesday again 2/6/2024

some weeks it's really hard to come up with a snappy little bon mot to put here

listening

Barbarella, by a fuck of a lot of people. yes i DID watch this movie this week! this is the single catchiest theme song i have ever heard. i cannot link the actual opening credits scene bc tumblr will censor that shit SO fast. spotify

youtube

reading

Rebecca Roanhorse's Tread of Angels novella. this is an urban magic old west religious fantasy novella. VERY sangfielle friendsatthetable vibes, there's an old west mining town centered around the body of the demon Abbadon, which is being mined for its powerful properties. demons and angels have sort of interbred throughout the human population. there is some deeply nerdy catholic bullshit and i say that as someone who was in catholic school for fifteen years. actually let's just take Roanhorse's explanation

the setting and premise are not where the novella bites off way more than it can chew. the main character, a cardsharp, has a chanteuse sister being held accused of a murder and she's got 48hrs to prove her innocence. the time limit and general structure is good, and it uses its side characters wisely, there's just a fuck of a lot of them.

in general, this novella does not have the emotional room to make its emotional beats really count. for example, there was a second breakup with an ex after a night of passion that mostly just left me confused. more broadly, the main character has an oldest sister's selfsacrificing nature that has twisted into utter ruthlessness with regards to her sister, and i'm both impressed Roanhorse managed to convey that in so few pages and annoyed bc i really wanted to see more of that in way more detail. due to the nature of it being a novella, the series of escalating decisions she takes feel very jagged in their escalation. i hope that makes sense.

it's got really interesting ideas! i want to know more about the ideas! i wish this was a full book instead of a novella, so the ending hits a little better instead of a Well That Just Happened way. from this interview it seems Roanhorse also wanted it to be a full book, but it was sort of a "i need something short and sweet so i don't go insane while adapting my other book for TV" (which is very exciting!!!)

watching

really a bizarre set of films. extremely unemployed energy in this watchlist this week. largely composed of "what's on my letterboxed watchlist and also available for free on tubi, with brief forays into hulu"

Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons (2013, dir. Chow). loved the overall visual design of the antagonists and the monsters, did not overall love this movie. it is a solid martial arts showcase and the first twenty minutes with freshwater JAWS are the most tightly plotted. it kind of flounders (lol) after that. can't find a gif i like.

INU-OH (2021, dir. Yuasa) genuinely healed my heart a little i think. queer (complimentary, not queer in the western massachusetts housing coop way) feudal anime glam rock opera. i am sooooooo picky about bad dads in movies as a driving force but this really soothed my daddy issues. stuck the landing on both storytelling and visuals.

Barbarella (1968, dir. Vadim) WOW Jane Fonda was hot. this was both sillier and less porny than i was led to believe (if we ignore the softcore porn opening credits). however horny this movie was it was not brave enough to have some girl-on-girl action with barbarella and the evil empress, even though the evil empress never seems to actually learn her name and just calls her “pretty” or “pretty-pretty”. shoutout to the one fic on ao3 that rectifies this situation. certainly a piece of scifi history, i wish modern scifi was as brave with its theatrical set dressing, i think one viewing is good enough for me bc i cannot stop thinking about how all the women on set might have been treated.

john philip law popped up and i said out loud to my cat “hey i know him from cowboys”

Flower Drum Song (1961, dir. Koster) got conned into watching this by the hotvintagemen poll bc i wanted to see what james shigeta’s deal was, and if he did have a sort of ratpack sensibility as the propaganda described. he does! however this movie is unrelentingly awful. it is so so so slow. all of its comedy is racism-based. it feels like a three and a half hour two-VHS set instead of two hours. i like to think i have a stronger stomach for older media and am able to consider things as products of their times but this is my upper limit i think. one brief fleeting moment of cool production with this triple mirror effect

Dirty Dancing (1987, dir. Ardolino). we were trying to find something to watch on either peacock or hbo max, and when i said "oh i've never seen that" out loud my my best friend said "that's insane we're watching it". i did not hate this movie, but i feel like i missed some critical window of development in which i would have had to see this movie to really love it. i had sort of an abnormal high school experience and i am a smidge too old to relate to bildungsroman any more. but it was cute! it was fine! i think patrick swayze’s jawline could cut glass. this film was made after Roe v Wade (1973) and i feel like the backstreet abortion b-plot has done this interesting 180 from sort of a historical novelty to a real threat and terror again. fun!

that’s it for the watching section i promise

playing

im doing the thing where i play a game for ten minutes, put it down, and then pick it back up again, which is probably not terrific for the health of my elderly switch. but whatever. what have i been up to in breath of the wild?

not a ton of progress map-wise, but did make it up to zora’s domain.

i was planning on the camel being the first divine beast, to get that over with bc i had such a devil of a time in my last playthrough, but the thing about the desert is it’s really far away.

dicked around the dueling peaks stables for a while without managing to defeat that guardian and unlock that shrine. so it goes. i think i really need an actual guardian shield from one of the minor tests of strength shrines instead of a normie shield. this line and sidequest made me laugh— it wasn’t terribly hard to find this little cache but it was a tricky bit of gliding.

didn’t realize the horses don’t have that much vertical threat perception, just like real horses. this little band walked right under me and i failed to glide down and land perfectly on someone’s back, which did freak them all out.

i think my new favorite place in a game is this little grove clinging to the side of the dueling peaks. it felt very peaceful and cozy. nothing can get me up there and there’s more than enough room to make a little campfire and cook dinner and not roll off the mountain in a sleeping bag the middle of the night.

also fully kitted out my house bc i had a very successful mining expedition along dueling peaks. EXTREMELY forgiving and generous secondary opening area imo, thanks game

making

i started this glitch sampler pattern by tumblr's own mathysphere (not @'d bc this is a fuck of a long post) at the beginning of the pandemic, june 2020, while thinking "eh let's give this friends at the table counterweight thing a shot" got most of the way through both counterweight and this piece, put it down bc i was so annoyed with all the confetti stitches (random one-off stitches of colors that aren't anywhere near other stitches of the same color. i think i resorted to fraychek at several points in the rover square) and then put it down so long i had to throw it out during the great moth debacle, bc it was partly eaten.

here's what it will look like finished, and a link to buy the pattern

i think this time around i am a much better technical stitcher (the first crack at this i didn't know the loop method of starting, or pin stitches, or really any alternate endings except running the tail under the last few stitches). i usually stitch with three strands bc i like the look, but i think the loop method with three strands is overly fiddly. i have not picked up cross stitch since mmmm 2021, but any mistakes or unevenness in this will simply contribute to the glitch effect. i'm going to go back and backstitch the four "frames" and key portions of the sampler to highlight portions of the glitches (eg the yellow and blue centers of the spiral galaxy, the interior of the eclipse, perhaps add an antenna to the rover).

still not my tidiest back, but hey. it's going to sit in a frame and not have any sort of friction or extra force applied to it ever

i am really looking forward to framing this in a deep shadowbox, i have an idea about how to mat it with little melty cutouts for the drips at the bottom.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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akuma-tenshi · 4 months

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tell me ur theories abt 100 epitaphs

had to go back to get screenshots bc i felt like i was going insane. so:

at the very beginning, during the lyrics "lay your emotions with them like a mourning wreath", there's a shot of kt's face on a headstone. which makes me believe she may have been terminated at some time during this whole thing and there's going to be a twist where yura gets into the facility with whoever the hell decides to join him only to learn she's been dead this whole time and all this was for nothing

my friend pointed this out when the video first came out but there's a shot of yura during the first chorus where he's surrounded by several mostly-unnamed characters when they say "another apathetic epitaph". iirc he's between kolya and nikita, both of whom are dead, and their faces are shown in frames, likely symbolising those photos that are displayed during funerals. which could very possibly foreshadow yura dying, probably during the mission to save kt.

olga being shown with flowers sprouting out of her does not give me hope for her. this is especially worrying considering the fact that she's shown in occam's razor during the line "but some ventures require a sacrificial lamb" - this could refer to her taking the fall for yura after the whole incident in the zone but it's still concerning. oddly enough i'm less confident in this than in my yura and kt dying theories bc it just doesn't feel like olga would die (wouldn't make sense or be satisfying from a narrative perspective) but it's still possible. if she doesn't die then she's definitely not coming out of this the same

this is not the last we've seen of sergei. this may just be wishful thinking (love that square......) and ik he basically just gave up on sanya. but anyone who's tried to help an especially difficult person will tell you it's not that easy to just let them go, especially considering that he's already done so much for her and still has skin in the game even if he does completely drop his sister (*gestures vaguely at that one drawing of him reading a book on "breaking your girlfriend out of jail" or smthn.... ik it's just a silly joke but i'd be fuckin hyped if we got sergei breaking olga out of prison). something tells me he's going to keep trying to influence things from afar without getting too invested; whether he'll keep trying to help sanya or just focus all his effort on olga, i'm not sure.

sanya is becoming another yura. she's getting more hopeless and desperate, not to save kt but to protect / help yura. she's doing crazier and crazier shit and has managed to stay in contact with him even though sergei tried to stop them from meeting. the shot of her laughing surrounded by candles, the shot of her sitting so nonchalantly against the wall talking to dima, the shot of her standing up to sergei to protect yura... she feels very yuracore and it worries me. also the shot of her strangling her past self, the one that was much more optimistic and bright yet sheltered.. any writer will tell you that having a character literally harm / kill their past self is the number one way of indicating that they're completely cutting off their past and moving on.

this is a very stupid theory but kolya isn't actually dead. he plays way more of a role in 100 epitaphs than he ever did before. and yes nikita has content too but there are just.. so many shots of kolya (the one that stands out most to me is of him sitting in the center of the screen with headphones on). he may not be the same person but like. what if the grinder didn't kill him?? what if he's alive, just far away from all this?? what if he comes back?? changed and injured but still kolya. ((god i hope i'm talking about the right person here if that isn't kolya i'm going to look like such a dumbass))

also the title "100 epitaphs" and the prominent presence of two (supposedly) dead characters.... it doesn't inspire confidence in a lot of these characters' chances of surviving.

sorry if some of this is incoherent or just downright weird, i've been up for a while. but i will always take up an opportunity to rant about this video it's had me positively ill. i was literally fucking shaking while typing this

#happy one month to 100 epitaphs #came out at a time i really fucking needed it tbh #rambling #thanks for the ask!!#pafl #parties are for losers #pafl theories #100 epitaphs

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evans-heaven · 2 years

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Scene ; Joseph Quinn

Leave it to me to see one comment asking for a full fic based on one of my Moments drabbles and actually write that shit 😭 I've been working on this piece for weeks and I'm pretty happy with how I left it so here it is for your reading pleasure ;)

Before we start, a couple of things:

This is pre-Feelings (tho reader is very much in love here but doesn't realize it)

The death scene is from the POV of Stacey, your character, and is mostly my dialogue bc i tried watching the actual clip and got less than 10 seconds in before i started crying 🙃 so I'm not gonna torture myself like that y'all sorry lol

Reader is portrayed as having anxiety and overthinks a lot, kinda like in Feelings. I write her like this bc that's pretty much how I am in real life about my own thoughts, feelings, and basically everything else. Aaannnd that's basically it lmao

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings: Unedited content, strong language, ANGST, description of Eddie's death scene, mentions of blood, mild depictions of anxiety, some fluff, and touching, duh ;)

wc: 3.6k

I already linked the other two fics so read Touch here

Pt 2 here

Prior to this day, you had your assumptions that actors filming a death scene would be pretty tough.

But, now that you were in a position where you yourself would be at the borderline center of one, ‘tough’ was kind of an understatement.

‘Tough’ wasn’t nearly a suitable enough word to describe having to cradle your co-star who was covered in prosthetic wounds and fake blood as he sputtered out I love you’s and goodbye’s, and then ‘died’ in your arms.

Maybe ‘tough’ would be the appropriate term here, if said co-star wasn’t your best fucking friend and the person you were undoubtably closest with on set. Him dying in your arms, even if it was just for the screen, was still an experience that would feel way too real-even if you tried to remind yourself that, at the end of the day, it wasn’t. No matter how true to life it would seem. No matter how damn realistic those wounds looked (why the fuck did Amy and her team have to be so talented?), and no matter how fucking incredible Joe Quinn was at pretending to die.

The words ‘calm down’ echoed in your head like a broken record all day. They had blended into one, to the point where they were incoherent and didn’t seem to make sense. Thus, they did very little to offer comfort.

The day had been frustrating, to put it lightly. But, at least you had Joe.

That morning, during your daily-or hourly-sanctioned bear hug, your heartbeat was so strong he practically heard it pulsing in his ears. That alone told him your anxiety would be working double time that day. It was a serious pain in the agss sometimes.

You and Joe had always been attached at the hip over the last year and some, always hanging off of each other in some way or another. And today, it was with good reason attached to it-not that (consensual) physical touch ever had to have a purpose other than wanting to be close. Having that gentle contact, even if it was just a hand on your shoulder-was more than enough to ground you and halt the overactive thoughts-even if for a couple of minutes.

Although he’d say he was only trying to comfort you, it was obvious your embraces and touches held mutual benefit. Just as he was able to sense your anxiety, you could sense his. The sweaty palms when your fingers laced together during breakfast and lunch weren’t from you, nor were the goosebumps you felt against your collarbones when he held you from behind after you got your makeup done for the scene. This showed you that, despite acting his ass off during rehearsals, it didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

But, in typical heartthrob-from-a-90s-novel-written-by-a-woman fashion, all his energy was put into making you feel better, comforted, and assured that everything would be okay. Even if he had no idea what the true driving force was behind your anxiousness.

You couldn’t have asked for a better on screen boyfriend. Stacey Miller-Rhodes was a damn lucky gal. Well, up until her boyfriend got chunks of his flesh ripped from his body by demobats. Meaning he died. Meaning Eddie was gone.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

A sharp knock on your trailer door interrupted your useless mantra, as you jolted, just a little, before giving permission for whoever to enter.

In walked Matt and Ross, warm smiles on their faces. It didn’t do much to ease you, because you knew why they were here.

“Hey, Y/N, you ready?” Ross asked. Matt stood by the door keeping it open, since it was time to go.

You nodded. “Yep,” your voice was even, masking the heavy feeling in your throat. You were not ready.

“Figured we’d come get you ourselves, Joe’s busy with makeup on set, for, you know-”

“I know. Thanks,” you said quickly, cutting Matt off. “Let’s get going, then,” you said, standing up and walking past Matt, exiting your trailer. You heard the door shut softly and their footsteps following behind you.

You were being short with them, but that was because you really only wanted Joe at this moment. Unfortunately, he was currently being ‘deadified’ on set, which is where you were now headed. You two had a little cuddle session in your trailer, where he held you tight and layed kiss after kiss on your forehead, cooing that it would be okay and that you would both be fine. After that, he had to go to the makeup trailer to get his prosthetic wounds applied. The process had taken hours, and then he had to film the scene where Eddie actually got attacked by the bats. This meant it had been a while since you saw him last. So, his mamed and mangled appearance awaited you, when the last time you saw him, he was totally unharmed and at ease.

You entered the building, in which there were only a chosen few people. It was a closed set, just you, Joe, and the necessary crew members. The Duffers believed that because a death scene with a couple was so intimate, you and Joe were the only actors that should be on set.

That, you were thankful for. You were your best self when it was just you and Joe, so you could be your best ‘acting self’, when it was just the two of you as well.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the ‘Upside Down’, a set made to look like the particular spot in the alternate universe where everything would go down. It was tinted blue and almost sent a chill down your spine to look at, from how cold uninviting, and eerie the general vibe of the scenery was. And a little depressing, which was pretty fitting. The backdrop was a blue screen, which would be used to add the background of the setting, to make everything look as real as possible.

You spotted Joe in the middle of the set, the makeup team applying fake blood to his very real looking wounds.

“C’mon, we wanna talk to you and Joe for a second before we start,” Matt told you, and as much as that made sense, you wished Joe was more than just a few feet away so you could prepare a little more for seeing him….like that, outside of the context of the scene.

“Okay,” you said as you three began walking towards him just as makeup finished up their job. When you got to him, you felt yourself tense up at his appearance as you lingered back, just a little bit. He stood awkwardly with his arms slightly hovering away from his body, clearly not wanting to disrupt the fake damage. You could tell from the sight before you that with how much fake blood the team used, those demobats would really do a number on Eddie.

You hated those little CGI bastards.

“Hey,” Joe said, gaining your attention, though his tone was light. You met his eyes, narrowly avoiding the blood streaking the lower half of his face.

“Hi,” you said back, feeling just a little bit of air release from your lungs, not even remembering when you took a breath in. You wanted to make a sarcastic quip to lighten the mood, but words failed you. You didn’t really feel like being funny right now.

“So, you guys remember how the scene goes, Eddie just sacrificed himself and got attacked by the bats, and Stacey runs up to him afterward and sees his body laying there, barely alive, covered in blood and wounds,” Matt began.

You curled your lips in and nodded stiffly, feeling the slightest of shocks run through your body. Calm down.

“I know you two are gonna kill this scene,” Matt continued. “No one understands or could have brought to life Eddie and Stacey better than the two of you,” he said warmly, clamping hands down on both your shoulders. Yours was tense under his touch and Stacey’s clothing.

You had to admit, though, he was right. You had a lot of input into Stacey’s character, taking her from Eddie’s shy girlfriend who was just a tool to enhance how eccentric he was, to a girl with a backstory and reasons for her reserved nature. Knowing Stacey’s history would make the scene even more gut wrenching to film. A girl raised in a household with a domineering step-father who believed women should be seen and not heard, who made her life a living hell under the watchful eye of her mother who did nothing to stop it. Upon turning 18 she left him and his toxicity behind, but carried the burden of years of being forced to subdue herself. Eddie got her to open up to him, but she still carried herself quietly around others. The fear of judgment was damaging.

Because of how much you put into Stacey and the influence you had on her storyline, you knew none of your nervousness had to do with how you’d perform in the scene. You were confident in your abilities as an actress and knew you could carry this scene with the help of Joe perfectly.

“Thanks, guys, that means a lot,” you said to them, gripping the moto jacket you wore, canonically taken by Stacey from Eddie’s closet.

“Yeah, truly, we’ve come a long way from me thinking I would completely ruin the show,” Joe chuckled, the smile on his face juxtaposed by the blood caking it. It was actually kind of off putting.

“Alright, well, let’s get this show on the road!” Mat clapped his hands and walked with his brother offset.

More like let’s get this over with. You were about to walk off to get in your spot, when Joe grabbed your hand gently, stopping you. You turned to face him, brows raised expectantly.

“You good?” he asked.

Deciding to keep this short and sweet, you settled for a quick nod, and a soft ‘yeah’. Satisfied, he released your hand so you could go to your place, just as one of the Duffers yelled “Places!”

When you got to your mark, you looked over to Joe one more time, who was already looking your way. You could feel the intensity of his stare from where you stood, those gorgeous brown eyes and the way they sparkled no matter the lighting or setting. He gave you a smile, and you returned one, unable to ever not do so. It managed to give you a new found confidence you lacked just seconds prior. He took his position on the ground, and then, it was time.

There was no turning back once it began. Unless you swiveled on your heels and ran in the opposite direction, which was tempting.

Once it happened, everything you were worried about could become a possibility to follow suit.

You sucked in an unstable breath and closed your eyes, savoring a final moment of calm before those two little word were uttered-

“And….ACTION!”

You took off.

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

Stacey’s heart was ramming against her ribcage the moment she re-entered the upside down, but when she saw her boyfriend lying limp on the cold, wet ground, she swore her legs would give out as her heart seemed to cease in its entirety.

He had gone back. He wanted to be a hero. He didn’t want to run anymore, but God, she wished he did.

“Eddie!” Stacey called out, voice unstable and legs threatening to give out from underneath her as she sprinted towards him. Somewhere in the corner of her mind that was swarming with fears of what would happen to him, she began to pray to whoever there was that could hear her and help him.

Please let him be okay. Please. Please. Please.

“Ed, babe, oh my God,” Stacey whispered, and fell to her knees before his broken down form. His torso was torn to shreds, his Hellfire shirt almost completely soaked with blood from his wounds. She took hold of him and pulled the upper half of his body into her lap, feeling the red substance begin to seep through her jeans.

The demo bats surrounded the two of them, incapacitated, laying limp on the floor of the upside down-taunting you. Blissfully unaware that they had probably just taken the love of Stacey's life away from her, brutally, with no remorse, as he tried so desperately to be the hero, not the coward he convinced himself he was.

“Ed, are you with me? Can you hear me?” Stacey asked him softly, not wanting to scare him. She brushed his hair from his face and tried to meet his eyes, his gaze unfocused and teary.

Eddie’s voice came out shaky and weak from his blood coated mouth, his cheeks smeared with it. “I did it,” he choked out. “I didn’t run anymore,”

There was no denying he felt some semblance of pride at what he did, and because of that, Stacey couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though the tension in the noise was palpable. “Yeah, yeah baby, you’re so brave,” she told him.

The proud smile he bore was distorted by a look of pain as he shifted slightly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he groaned, in clear discomfort.

One of her hands applied pressure to one of the many wounds that marred his torso as he shivered in her arms. “No, no babe, it’s fine, you're gonna be okay,” she stumbled out, trying to sound as confident in her words as possible, when everything about the situation told her that her words were not the truth. “We just….we just need to get to you to a hospital and everything’s gonna be okay, Ed, don’t worry,”

“No. I think this was it, baby,” he met his girlfriend’s gaze, his jaw trembling as more blood dribbled out the sides of his mouth as he took in barely there, labored breaths. “This was finally my year,”

Stacey choked out helpless cries, caressing his face, and shaking her head. This couldn’t be his year, this couldn’t be the way it ended. He was supposed to finally graduate and the two of them were supposed to get the hell out of Hawkins together, away from all the bullshit media propaganda and pearl clutching PTA moms. They were going to get out of there and be happy together. That was how it was supposed to fucking be, goddammit.

“No,” Stacey gritted.“This isn’t over yet, you’re gonna be okay, Ed,” she nodded stiffly, lips trembling as salty tears flowed into the seam. “We’re just gonna wait a little until the others get here, then we’re gonna carry you out of this hellhole and take you to a hospital, and the doctors there are going to fix you, baby, they’re going to make the bleeding go away, and stitch you up and give you some meds, and then you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she chanted weakly as her cheeks became soaked with tears. She wanted to speak it into existence, even as reality clawed and fought its way to the front of her mind.

“Baby,” he cooed. He placed a cold hand on hers, the one that still pressed against one of his wounds, gripping it weakly. Always the one who wanted to comfort her, even if he needed it way more in this situation. “I’ve fulfilled my duty as Eddie the Banished, I didn’t run, and I saved the town,” he told her.

“That town doesn’t deserve your sacrifice, Eddie,” Stacey argued pathetically.

“I saved you,” he stressed, making it known that this act was with only one person at the forefront as motivation, the rest of the town behind her. “And you’re worth it, Stacey. You’re so. Fucking. Worth it,” he said to her, lacing their fingers together, pulling the back of her hand up to his lips, and pressing a bloodied kiss to the cold, dirty skin.

“I love you so much,” he said as firmly as his shutting down body would let him.

It hurt her to not say those words back, but she knew why he said them, and she didn’t want to accept this as the end.

“Ed, don't you dare say goodbye,” she told him through her tears, trying to sound strong and sure, but it wasn’t possible. “This isn’t the end for you, this isn’t the end for us,” she said.

“Stacey, baby, I want you to listen to me,” Eddie began, the wobble in his voice impossible to ignore now as he tried to raise his head as much as he could, wanting her to truly take in his next words. “When you go back, I want you to go home and pack all of your shit, as much as you can carry, and I want you to get on the next bus out, because you’re gonna leave that shithole Hawkins. You’re gonna tell that place to kiss your ass and you’re gonna run like hell out of there without so much as a single glance back,”

Stacey shook her head, understanding where this was headed, not wanting to hear a word more. “Ed, no-”

“You’re gonna find some place for the both of us, somewhere where the people aren’t shallow minded assholes, where we can be whoever the fuck we want to be with each other, and I want you to live your life everyday as you would have if I was there,’

“Eddie, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. I don’t want you to cave back into yourself, baby. You’re the most beautiful, brilliant, incredible human being I’ve ever met and everyone deserves to know you and appreciate you as you are. Do you hear me?”His proclamation to her ended with that simple question, and he left no room for argument.

She absorbed all his words, every letter, every syllable, struggling to accept that the life they wanted to have together, would have to continue on without him. The life she wanted with him would totally and completely absolve her from the one she had growing up. Could she do it? Could she move on?

Those answers remained to be determined, but the one thing she absolutely couldn’t do was argue with him anymore. She just didn’t have it in her to deny him his dying wish, or keep fighting what he had already accepted.

Closing her eyes, more droplets fell, mixing with his blood. She felt herself nodding before she could even consider another response in her mind. “Yeah,” she whispered in a watered down voice. “Yeah, baby, I hear you,” she opened her eyes and met his own once more.

“Good,” he replied. “Good,” his voice was noticeably more floaty that time.

They fell silent. They just looked into one another’s eyes, exchanging so many words and feelings that would completely consume what little time they had left together. His hand was still laced with hers, pressed against his chest, where she could feel his weakening heart beat.

“I love you so much,” he repeated his words from earlier, breaking the hauntingly peaceful quiet. It was barely above a whisper practically mouthed, but she heard him, loud and clear. And as soon as those words came out, he looked ahead blankly, his eyes slowly beginning to lose the light in them Stacey loved so much.

“Eddie, no, please,” she gritted, tears dripping from her eyes uncontrollably. “Stay with me, baby, please,” she pleaded urgently, brushing more of his damp hair out of the way and patting his cheek lightly, trying to get him to remain alert….alive. She just wanted one more moment with him. Just one.

But then, she felt it.

His body stilled.

His grip on her hand went limp.

His eyes lost any life left in them.

“Eddie,” she whimpered, hand remaining on his cheek. Her body shook uncontrollably as she let the tears fall freely onto him, her agony and pain taking over as she held his lifeless form close to hers. She repeated his name through her cries, trying to wake him, trying to make this nightmare end. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, wanting to feel him as close as possible, for what was the very last time.

“I love you, too,” Stacey whispered, her lips touching the skin between his eyebrows. If those words meant anything anymore, she wanted it to be at this moment.

Because she truthfully didn’t know when-or if- she would ever say them again.

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

“CUT!”

It was like a switch went off in you, as reality made its presence known once more.

The scene was done, the Duffers yelled cut, it was over.

However, the moment fully sank in when Joe rose up and took your hands in his, pulling you upright and bringing you into a warm embrace. You didn’t care about the fake blood that would get all over your front or the fact that his back was soggy and caked with damp dirt, you threw your arms around him and held on tightly, rivaling the hold he had on you.

“You did so incredible, babes, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear, his long fingers running up and down your sides lightly, almost tickling, but you reveled in it and his touch. You closed your eyes blissfully as you came down from your high, feeling the tears drying on your face, thankful makeup used waterproof eye makeup.

“Yeah, you too,” you said back for his ears only, as the Duffers and the rest of the crew approached you both. You let each other go, though his arm remained on the small of your back, as everyone began delivering their praise. The voices became so jumbled you could barely register who said what. So, you just smiled and nodded and gave your gratitude along with Joe, whose hand rubbed soothing circles against your waist.

Now, to face reality.

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

Part 2 where Joe and reader discuss why she was so nervous coming Saturday 🥰 it was originally part of this fic, but it was getting way too damn long, so a split was needed lol. Stay tuned Joe girlies 😘

#joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x actress!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn writing #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc

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