Hey friend!! I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH AND YOURE SO TALENTED OM MY GOSH. Could you do one with Josh or Tyler where the reader and Tyler/Josh fight and don't talk for a long time (days) and then one of them breaks down. So like angst but then fluffy?!! HOPE YOU SMILED TODAY :))
TYLER JOSEPH IMAGINE
“Hey,” you say into your phone, “I’m just walking home from work right now. I haven’t heard from you in a couple days and I guess I just realized that I couldn’t remember what city you were in tonight. Newark? Maybe Toronto, I don’t know— wherever you are… it’s far. And I just wanted to say I miss you.” You take a deep gulp before continuing, “Anyway, hope the tour’s good, call me if you get a chance. Love you.”
With heavy fingers, you hang up the phone before returning it to your back pocket. You were hoping to catch Tyler before he and Josh went on stage tonight, but he was obviously occupied with other things. What those other things were, you had no idea. Tyler had been increasingly distant since his new tour started two weeks ago. Other than a couple of phone calls and a few returned texts, you’d barely heard from him.
In your head, you liked to think that you and Tyler were solid. You’d been together for seven years now. You survived the years and years of him and Josh just trying to make it through. You survived the endless nights of gigs in the same venues where the same handful of people would show up. Then, you survived the sudden spike in popularity of his band, and the chaos and madness that came with it. You survived the months and months of him being on the road, sometimes time zones away. And yet, every single time he left, you still got this dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach that scared the hell out of you. Because the more times Tyler left, the more you were able to realize that this gig wasn’t short term. He was in this band for the long haul and life as you knew it when you first met and fell in love with Tyler, had changed.
You held on to the concept that after this tour, Tyler and Josh would have a little break. At least six months was what Tyler had anticipated before they went on the road again. That would give you and him time… much needed time… to rekindle your relationship and make your image of your solid relationship a reality again.
The concept of a long-distance relationship weighed heavy on your shoulders the rest of the way home. You tried distracting yourself, thinking about what you were going to make for dinner instead, but it was no use. Your problems with Tyler pushed their way to the forefront of your brain with force and power, clouding your mind.
In fact, you were so distracted with your thoughts that you barely even heard the music coming from inside your supposed-to-be-empty-apartment.
You stop dead in your tracks, your mind wheeling back to reality as you’re faced with the situation at hand. You hesitated slightly, your heart beating loudly in your chest before opening the door slightly. You recognized the sound as Tyler’s record player.
As you stepped inside, you immediately smelled something delicious.
“Crap!” you heard someone say.
You jumped at the sound of his voice, but turns towards the kitchen to see a surprised looking Tyler wearing mismatched oven mitts and holding a casserole dish in his hands.
“I thought you were getting out at 6…” he says.
You sincerely hope he puts down that casserole dish because you can’t help but fling yourself in his direction, dropping your bag and jacket in a heap on the floor with tears already welling up in your eyes.
(Tyler does in fact set the dish down) before you crash your body into his. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him spin you in a circle before setting you back down.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home for a week,” you say, smiling widely.
“We had the night off,” he explains.
You press your lips to his desperately, trying to make up for the last couple of weeks without him around. When you finally pull away, there’s a smile plastered over his goofy-looking face.
“I attempted dinner,” he says.
It’s spaghetti and sauce, which was about the only thing Tyler truly knew how to cook. You weren’t complaining though. The mere image of seeing Tyler sitting across the table from you was enough to make you want to eat spaghetti for the rest of the week.
“So how’s the tour?” you ask, twirling another bundle of noodles together on your fork.
“It’s good,” he says in between bites. “The venues are insane, I couldn’t believe the size of some of these places, but most are selling out, so it’s all good,” he chuckles.
You nod as you chew.
“We started recording the new album,” he says.
His words are quite and muffled even more so by the pasta swirling around his mouth. But it’s loud enough to catch your attention and make you look up from your plate. He’s refusing to meet your gaze as he focuses on the meal in front of him, but you continue to stare.
“You what?” you ask, keeping your tone as smooth as possible, trying not to let the surprise be evident in your voice.
“Yeah, well I mean just a few songs here and there, but we think it’ll be done soon.”
You shake your head suddenly, putting down your fork and looking Tyler dead on.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand… so you’re going to finish the album up now, then what? Let it sit for a bit?”
“No…” Tyler says, looking equally confused, “We’re going to finish up the album, release it, then tour it… You know the drill.”
“What about the break?” you say, your voice getting more and more heated.
Tyler sighs heavily before putting his own silverware down. “Y/N…”
“No-“ you say, emotion starting to flood into your words, “Don’t ‘Y/N’ me… You said that after this tour there’d be a break. I mean, did you not?”
Tyler sighs, like this entire conversation was becoming a burden.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you…”
“I want you to tell me why you said you were taking a break after this tour if you had no intention of doing so.”
Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly growing irritated as well.
“I never said for sure that there’d be a break, so I don’t know why you’re acting all defensive about this.”
“You did, actually… you said that we just had to make it through this stretch and then you’d be home for a break. Six months with no tour or recording or interviews. Just a break.”
You could feel yourself becoming riled up. Of course Tyler knew what he said, but he’d be damned it he ever admitted to being wrong.
“So, what I’m trying to understand is why you would say that if you didn’t mean it—“
“Just because you’re allowed to sit at home constantly doing absolutely nothing doesn’t mean I can!” Tyler snaps, finally looking up. “Someone’s gotta pay the bills and actually work. Because this is my job, you know? I can’t just take six months off whenever I feel like it.”
You look at him with venom in your eyes, but hurt in your heart. Tyler’s words cut through you like glass, shards of it breaking off and cutting deep.
“I’ve always dreamed of being successful in this band, and now that that’s actually happening, you can’t stand it.”
“That’s not true—“ you try to interject. Your voice catches in your throat as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
“It is true!” Tyler takes a deep breathe, collecting himself before continuing in a softer tone, “You liked me when I was at the bottom because it made you feel less shitty about yourself. Because then we were both losers.”
His words hang heavy in the air and you hold your breath, refusing to swallow them down. You thought that if they just lingered then maybe the reality of their context wouldn’t hit you fully.
But your emotions caught up and you couldn’t hold back the tear that fell silently down your cheek.
You look at Tyler, sitting across from you. He looked the same. Short hair, swallowed eyes, flushed skin. But he was so different from the person you met eight years ago.
People change. That was not a new concept for you. And they say that people who are in love change together, growing closer and working as a team. But as you stare across the table at Tyler, his hand pulled into a tight fist, resting on the table, you realized that the two of you had not changed together. Instead, you’d grown apart.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and bundled up the napkin that had been resting on your lap before standing up. His words still stung as you opened your mouth to speak. Anger, resentment, frustration… all flooded through you. But hurt was the most prominent emotion… the one that made it’s appearance in your words.
“Good luck on the new album,” is all you can manage to say before your throat caught on the lump you’d tried swallowing earlier. You collected your purse from the chair near the door before twisting the knob and hurrying out without looking back.
You made your way down the street, half expecting Tyler to race after you. But you got further and further from home, and heard no protests or calls of your name, so you continued dreadfully all the way to your friends house across town.
They were warm to welcome you inside, and assured you that you could stay as long as needed.
“He should be gone by morning,” you told them, smiling appreciatively. “Thanks.”
No texts. No calls.
No note when you returned home the next morning.
He was gone, the apartment looking exactly how you left it, and the gaping hole inside you seemed to grow just a bit bigger.
The days to follow were excruciatingly painful. Tyler didn’t reach out to you, and you didn’t reach out to him. Part of you wanted to believe that this was just some horrible fight you two were having, but the logical part of your brain made you wrestle with the fact that this could be the end of your seven-year-relationship. The final chapter, written specifically with pain and anguish in mind.
You wanted to call, just to talk and to find out where you both stood in all of this. The break was your one plan to restore the fire that once burned between the two of you, but now that that was gone out the window, you had no idea where to look for hope.
You always thought of Tyler as being the love of your life. But maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
You didn’t call. Part of you was still so angry about the words he said. You were afraid you’d burst into angry, embarrassing tears the minute he picked up the phone. So you just stayed clear. You let the silence speak for itself.
The silence did nothing to help the gaping hole inside your chest.
It made it hard to sleep. On day three, you laid in bed, your arms wrapped around your frame in an attempt to hold yourself together. But your mind raced for hours about what was going to happen. Exhaustion finally took over, crashing over you and sweeping you into an uneasy sleep.
You were woken up abruptly in the middle of the night, your clock reading 3:56 a.m., by a loud noise. You would have thought it was in your dream had it not been for the continuing footsteps that followed the noise.
You sat up in bed, your heart racing at the immediate thought of an intruder in your apartment. You slipped off from your bed and grabbed the baseball bat Tyler kept hidden under the bed, ready to clock whoever the robber was when the door creaked open.
You almost screamed as the moonlight coming in from your open shade illuminated Tyler’s sunken face.
“Jesus Christ!” you gasped, dropping the bat and clutching your chest.
“Sorry!” he says quickly, holding his hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”
“What the hell are you doing here, it’s 4 a.m! I could have bludgeoned you to death!” you say in your loud-whisper voice.
“I came straight from a show—“ he explains. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but I had to see you—“ you’re half sure you hear his voice crack. “It’s like I couldn’t function these last few days. I left so mad, but once I got out there and started playing, I couldn’t thinking about anything but you.”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, letting Tyler continue.
“I just kept thinking what if the next time I come home…” this time his voice definitely does crack, “what if— what if the next time I come home, she’s not there?” you hear him break and your chest heaves from the sound of it.
“I couldn’t stand thinking about coming home and you not being here— I couldn’t stand it, I had to come home. I had to see you,” you see his silhouette shaking violently in the doorframe, tears evident in his voice and you want to run over to him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you hesitate. You’re unsure and afraid and nothing makes sense in your mind right now.
“I said awful things,” he continues, sniffling hard, “Awful things that make me deserve to be alone. But I didn’t mean any of them. Not a single one. I was tired and upset about the fact that our break got postponed again and I knew you’d be mad about it, but there’s nothing I can do— I got locked in without realizing and I just don’t know what to do.” He pauses, watching your face, and trying to gage a reaction. “Just tell me. Tell me what you want from me. Do you want me to quit?” he asks, his eyes glistening with tears. “Because I will. I just, I don’t know how we got here— I don’t know what happened. We were strong and we talked and now… I just don’t know what happened.
And I have no idea what to do. All I know is I want to stay here, right here— with you. I have the tour and the music but you, you’re all that matters to me. The other stuff is nothing. It’s nothing without you. But I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to figure it out, but I don’t know— and I just… I need you to tell me what to do, because I don’t know. I have no fucking idea, I just need you to tell me,” Tyler’s voice is frantic and desperate. There’s tears running fluidly down his cheeks as he pleads in front of you.
You can’t help it anymore as your heart breaks in front of him. You rush over, taking long strides before opening your arms and crashing into him. He’s still shaking violently, whispering the same phrase over and over, “Please… I need you to tell me, just tell me what to do—“
“Shh,” you whisper, rubbing his back.
He finally hugs back, wrapping his own arms around you and burying his face in your hair. You can feel him heaving as he sobbed into your shoulder and you held on tight.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, wrapped up in each other, both scared about the future and what it might bring. It was long enough to make the back of your heels burn from standing there. It was long enough for your light gray shirt to be stained dark from Tyler’s tears. It was long enough for his familiar scent to wrap you up and make you feel at home again.
When you finally untangle, you’re quick to grab back on to Tyler’s hand, desperate to keep touching him for as long as you could. You led him over to the bed where you both climbed in silently. As you curled into his side and rested your head on his chest you sighed deeply, feeling exhausted equally mentally as you did physically.
But Tyler felt like home. His embrace, his smell, the sound of his voice. It was all things that made you feel loved and valued and important. And you knew you’d both changed. You knew you’d both grown slightly apart. But this was not how your story was going to end. This was not the final chapter in your book, because Tyler was still Tyler and you were still you and your love still had some spark left in it.
“We’re gonna make it,” you whisper into the dark room, clutching to the fabric of his cotton shirt.
Tyler squeezes you gently before kissing the top of your head. “We’re gonna make it,” he repeats.
The promise was sincere and bursting with love. It caught the spark. Your love would continue burning.