Update: I'm Like On The Verge Of Finishing It??? There's A Very High Chance It Will Be Posted Later Tonight!!!

update: i'm like on the verge of finishing it??? there's a very high chance it will be posted later tonight!!!

Hey!!! Where are you up to with The Chain? I don’t want to rush you at all, I’m just wondering - I love your writing <3

hi!! i am very aware that i am taking FOREVER on the last part, and for that i do sincerely apologize. after i post this i will be heading to work on that straight away. as of right now i have the bulk of it done, it's just a matter of filling in gaps and fluffing up some stuff. i do have a couple scenes i want to add it that i thought of rather belatedly, so those will take a bit of time. but it's coming, i promise promise promise! thank you for asking so kindly <3

little spencer reid drabble to get me out of a multi-month writing slump!!

warnings/tags: spencer reid x reader, established/secret relationship, swearing, r uses she/her pronouns

summary: after a situation out in the field leaves y/n temporarily blind, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a secret.

"Here she is!"

Y/N could practically feel the hush that fell over the room as JJ wheeled her into the office. The thick bandage covering both eyes ensured that she couldn't very well see it. She did her best to give her most realistic Y/N smile to put them at ease. "Are you guys happy to see me or what? You're gonna have to tell me, cause if you didn't notice, I can't really see..."

She heard a few relieved laughs (thank god) and a mutter of "smartass" from Morgan. Suddenly she felt the comforting presence of Penelope beside her as she took one of her hands. "Can I hug you? I just wanna hug you."

Y/N laughed. "You can hug me, Garcia."

With only a little effort, Y/N stood from her wheelchair. Almost instantly she was engulfed by a classic Garcia hug—it was a little less frantic and intense than usual, but that, she assumed, was attributed to her current state of blindness.

Garcia pulled away and there was a moment of tense silence before her Disney princess-like voice asked, "Are you...is it permanent?"

"No," Y/N said with a shake of her head. "The surgery went really well and this is just the standard recovery process. I have weekly check-ups, but other than that, these bandages need to stay for at least a month."

"A month?" Derek repeated from somewhere on her left. "We're not gonna have you in the field for a month?"

"Oh relax, Derek. I'm sure you'll find somebody else to beat in arm wrestling for a bit."

There was a bit of uneasy laughter at that, but the reality was a bit too disheartening for anyone to really be genuine about it. Y/N hadn't taken more than a week off in her time with the BAU, and that was only due to an emergency. She'd be gone for longer than she'd ever been—and without her sight, no less.

"But who's going to take care of you?" Garcia said, sounding a bit like a worried grandmother. "You can't be alone at home all...blind! Do you have someone who can stay with you?"

Before Y/N can answer, Spencer's voice came from somewhere on her right. "I am."

There was another hush, and this time Y/N was almost glad that she couldn't see everyone's faces. She could hear her heart hammering in her chest. JJ was the first to speak following the announcement of this information. "Spence?"

"What? Her grandma can't make it into town and I've done extensive reading on the recovery process for this—"

"But you're just going to go back and forth between your apartment and hers for a month? Isn't that, like, an hour long drive?"

Spence didn't have a quick answer for that, so Y/N finally forced out the truth. "We live together."

Once again, silence. Emily spoke first. "What? Since when?"

"Three months and fourteen days ago," Spencer said. "But we've been together for seven months and eight days."

Now all Y/N could do was plaster on an innocent smile as she stared (hopefully) into space. "Surpriiiiiiiiise."

Then came the uproar. Penelope and JJ shouted questions at the same time, Rossi seemingly swore in Italian, Morgan muttered some kind of threat towards the both of them. Y/N found her head darting left and right as she tried to find some particular sound to focus on. A comforting hand rested on her shoulders and she recognized it instantly as Spencer. She put her hand atop his and waited out the colossal wave of shock and awe from the rest of the team.

"Hey, hey!" Y/N shouted to get their attention. They quieted down and she pursed her lips. "Look, I know you've all been suspecting it anyway—we're just confirming your suspicions! Not that we have much of a choice..."

"Seven months? You kept this from us for seven months!" Garcia exclaimed—not mad, just surprised. Maybe a bit exasperated.

Spencer let out a little laugh. "Hotch knew!"

Y/N practically felt it as all heads turned to Hotch, who just shrugged. "They wanted to keep it a secret."

And then, of course, the screaming was directed at Hotch, who willingly took the brunt of it and began to guide the outraged hoard of co-workers in a different direction. Y/N heard their voices diminish as they followed him towards the other side of the office. She blew out a large breath, laughing in relief. She let her head fall to her hands, running her fingers through her hair. “Should’ve expected that kind of reaction.”

“Why are they so surprised?” Spencer said. She could practically picture the confused knot between his brows. “Garcia and Morgan already had a bet that we were dating.”

“I think it was the whole ‘we’ve been living together for three months’ thing that really got them.”

“Hm. Possibly.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, tilting her head back in the general direction of where Spencer stood. “Make me a coffee? I would do it myself, but, you know, I can’t see.”

She heard him laugh quietly and felt a little flutter in her stomach. She always felt that way when she made him laugh.

“How long are you going to use that excuse?” he said, already pushing her chair in the direction of the coffee station.

“As long as it applies,” she replied. “Or until I become Matt Murdock and have superhuman coffee-making abilities.”

“Matt Murdock has radar senses.”

“Still probably allows him to make his own coffee.”

They came to a stop and she heard Spencer shuffling around to make coffee.

“Hey,” she said, blindly stretching a hand out.

Within a second, Spencer’s hand found hers. “What do you need?”

She removed her hand away from his, searching all the way up his arm until she found his tie, pulling him in closer. Within an instant her lips caught his in a slightly off-kilter manner—she kissed the corner of his mouth, really. He adjusted quickly despite his surprise at the sudden action. His instincts told him to pull away, to reduce any risk that anyone saw, but there was nothing to hide anymore. So he kissed her back for a brief moment before breaking apart, a small smile on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked, their faces still inches apart.

Y/N just shrugged, a smile on her lips. “I just realized I could do that. So I did.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

She released his tie and let him get back to making coffee, not needing her sight to see the smile on his face.

holy shit holy shit i’m about to read part three of the chain and AHHHHHHH om goodness i am so excited im sick and this is the only thing keeping me sane i’m so excited to read it keep up the good work!!!!!

YAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYAYYAY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT!!!!! hope you enjoy part four :) <3

⋆♱✮♱⋆ 𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙈𝘼𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙊𝙉 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙂𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙎 !

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀! new theme, new obsession, new me! i'm really excited about this one. i started and finished ahs coven in a few days and holy LORD i love it. i also go to school in new orleans, so it's definitely rlly special to me :) 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: madison montgomery x fem!reader 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: some nsfw headcanons toward the bottom, i'll give a warning before the transition. swearing, use of magic (reader can charmspeak), mentions of death/murder (if you've seen ahs coven you have an idea of what to expect) 𝙍𝙀𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙏: none, this is totally self indulgent haha!

𖤓 she would initially take interest in you if you were from a rich family—maybe the mob or something, maybe you guys just had money. but if we're going with the mob route, she'd ask sooo many times about the fucked up things you've seen.

"have you ever seen someone get shot?" "uh...no." "ugh, boo. what kind of mob family are you?"

𖤓 she'd kinda do what she did with zoe in the first episode—she'd find you kind of interesting and be like well. guess this is my friend now.

"i'm dangerously low on entertainment. and a roommate. i guess you'll have to do." "...thank you?"

𖤓 the first time you guys would hang out one-on-one would be when madison gets cabin fever and breaks you guys out to get your nails done.

𖤓 it's here that madison gets your whole backstory out of you, including (but not limited to) how you discovered that you were a witch, why you were sent to robicheaux's, and what powers you have.

𖤓 i imagine she'd be fascinated by charmspeak. once you tell her how it works and what it can do, she's already imagining all the things she could do if she had that ability—all the roles she'd have, all the money she'd make, all the things she could get. at that moment you become more than just new entertainment to her. you become useful.

𖤓 you'd go shopping after and she'd be grabbing things left and right. dresses, fur coats, jewelry. if she likes it even a little, she's grabbing it and adding it to the pile.

"you're seriously going to buy all of this?" "nope. you are."

𖤓 she asks you to charmspeak the cashier into giving it all to you guys for free. when you refuse, she's not angry, really, just...surprised? maybe a little confused by you. you have this insane ability to get literally whatever you want, and yet you adhere to a strict moral code? she just doesn't get it.

𖤓 while she doesn't make you use your charmspeak, she does set a small fire to distract the employees long enough to let you guys sneak out with all the stuff.

𖤓 which then, of course, results in a massive fashion show back at robicheaux's. severely disappointed by your wardrobe, madison forces you into some of the clothes from your shopping escapade, and even some of her old things. she's surprisingly generous with the amount of things she'll just give you.

"i like this one." "keep it. i wore it to the teen choice awards two years ago, so i can't be seen in it again." "says who?" "says fashion, y/n. the media. the press. rewearing an outfit is like writing 'i'm poor and irrelevant' on your head in permanent marker." "oh. of course."

𖤓 from then on, you guys are attached at the hip, so much so that nan and queenie take to calling you madison's assistant behind both of your backs.

𖤓 one weekend madison forces you to come to a frat party with her (and i mean forces—you'd been to a couple frat parties at home and hated them, so she has to do some hardcore convincing to get you to go with her).

𖤓 and going to a frat party with madison is definitely a unique experience. from the moment you step in the door, all eyes are on her—madison montgomery, the movie star. and there you are, trailing after her like a lost puppy. it's slightly humiliating, but madison does her best to be accommodating.

𖤓 and by accommodating, i mean she navigates you two to the drink table and starts pouring shots for the pair of you. you both take one, then two, and that's where you stop. madison does not. she takes a third, then a fourth, and then drags you onto the dance floor with her.

𖤓 the dance floor is where a new side of madison comes out. she dances like absolutely no one but you is there, moving around in an energetic but still graceful way. if you're not a big dancer, she'll put her hands on your hips and gently guide you to sway with the beat.

𖤓 she'll definitely get more touchy when she's drunk on the dance floor, holding your hand and moving your hair for you when it gets in your face. your faces will get so close without either of you even realizing, and then you'll burst into laughter for no reason.

𖤓 but then some frat guy would appear and start flirting with madison and she'd kind of float away to dance with him. your mood definitely takes a bit of a hit at that, but you're buzzed enough that you can dance on your own without feeling lonely.

𖤓 you keep an eye on madison as much as you can, but eventually she and the guy disappear. you stop dancing and move to look around, suddenly worried. eventually you find her, stumbling up the stairs with her hand attached to the guy. absolutely not.

𖤓 you catch up to them, stopping madison before she can get to the top of the stairs.

"hey, madi, time to go." "ha, sure. you go ahead, i'll catch up with you." "no, madi, it's time for both of us to go." "look, i get that it's past your fucking bedtime or whatever, but i'm having a good time. what the hell is your problem?"

𖤓 yeah, she doesn't take kindly to being told what to do. but she's too drunk to be going to some random frat guy's room, and you're too drunk and tired to argue with either of them. so you have no other choice. your eyes turn black as you summon your charmspeak.

"let her go, and stop trying to take advantage of drunk girls. work on trying to be a better person, take up volunteering or something. don't be a creep."

𖤓 the results are instantaneous. the guy lets go of madison's hand, muttering something about being too drunk, and heads upstairs alone. that's the first time madison's ever seen your charmspeak in action, and she's fucking furious.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" "i just did you a favor. trust me." "bullshit! you can't tell me what to do." "technically i can, i just don't. come on, let's go."

𖤓 eventually you coax her out of the party and start walking back to robicheaux's—which is made considerably harder by the fact that madison is still very drunk, stumbling in her heels so badly that you have to wrap an arm around her waist to support her.

𖤓 she's silent on the way back, still fuming at you. but as she sobers up, she comes to a realization she wouldn't normally come to: you were right. she was way too drunk to be hooking up with a guy ten minutes after she'd met him.

𖤓 and the next thing she realizes is that you were just looking out for her. nobody ever really had before. madison had been told no very few times in her life—she used to think that was just a testament to her fame, but over time she came to realize that it just came from a lack of people who care about her. and that's when madison comes to the terrifying realization that you care about her.

𖤓 and since she doesn't really know how to say 'thank you," she gives you one of her joints for your trouble when you get back to your room.

𖤓 you share the joint in the backyard, finally having sobered up enough to enjoy a high. you stay quiet, mostly because you're worried she's still mad at you, partially because you're embarrassed that you used your charmspeak on someone, which you swore to yourself you'd never do again unless it was life or death. you were scared that madison was going to cut you off entirely. most people back home did when they realized what you could do. a voice in your head was telling you that madison was never going to speak to you again.

𖤓 so imagine your surprise when she turns and kisses you.

𖤓 you just back out of pure surprise, completely caught off guard. you have a million question but your high only allows you to stutter a huh?

𖤓 madison just laughs a bit, expertly hiding her disappointment at your pulling away. all of her television and film acting serves her well in situations like this.

"what? am i still too drunk for you?" "no, i just...what?"

𖤓 you're just so surprised. did you find madison attractive? undoubtedly yes. did you maybe kind of sort of definitely have feelings for her? also yes. but did you ever think there was a universe in which she'd reciprocate those feelings? absolutely not. so what the fuck was happening?

𖤓 the second time you guys kiss, you're the one who leans in first.

𖤓 that night, you don't do anything more than kiss (despite madison wanting to), but you do end up crashing in madison's bed in your party outfits and makeup. the hangover the next morning sucks ass, but the memories of the night before get you awake pretty quickly.

𖤓 i feel like it wouldn't be too long after that that you guys start dating. madison's never been a huge dater—she's very deeply ingrained in hookup culture, as most of young hollywood is. but when it comes to you, she doesn't think she can settle for the occasional hookup. for one, you guys are literally roommates, so you're together most if not all of the time. for another, her attraction towards you isn't just physical. she likes being around you. she likes talking to you. and because you had a moral compass, hanging around you made her feel like a better person. she hadn't had someone like that in...well, as long as she can remember.

𖤓 there'd never been an official "do you want to be my girlfriend?" type conversation. you would be out somewhere, someone would start messing with you, and madison would get in their face and tell them to leave her girlfriend the fuck alone. they'd leave, and madison would turn to find you with wide eyes and cheeks flushed pink.

"girlfriend?" "duh. is that a problem?" "nope, not at all." "good."

𖤓 i imagine the pda isn't too over the top, but it's definitely there. she'll hold your hand while you're out and about and occasionally lean in to kiss you (she thinks leaving lipstick marks on your cheek is cute). when it's just you guys in your room, she could be all over you depending on her mood. she also loves cuddling, even f she doesn't act like it. whether she wants to be the big or little spoon again depends on her mood. if you're just lying on your bed reading or something, she could just come over and lay her head on your chest if she feels like it, and you do the same to her.

𖤓 when you guys are alone she can literally be such a softie, but she will deny it to the ends of the earth. like if as a joke you threaten to tell everyone how cuddly she is she'll deadass be like "girl. who tf will believe you" and she has a point because like. no one would expect that from her.

𖤓 she's not a big user of pet names, but i can definitely see her calling you "babe/baby."

𖤓 if you have similar styles, your clothes would be her clothes and vice versa. if not, she'll still give you her clothes to wear. she just loves it when you're walking around in her shirt/dress/shorts/etc.

𖤓 also, madison can be an extremely jealous person. if you're out and someone is flirting with you, she will not hesitate to appear out of nowhere and kiss you.

𖤓 or you would make a little game out of it. for example, if a guy was flirting with you at a bar, you'd entertain him for a while, and then when he got around to asking you for your number or asking you out, you'd give an apologetic look and say "sorry, i only date celebrities," and then madison would appear out of nowhere and put an arm around you, giving the guy a smug little smile. you'd laugh about that for a while.

𖤓 you're one of the only people who can see through her "acting" in daily life. she's more confident than the average person for sure, but a good portion of her not giving a shit is acting. you become so attuned to her mannerisms that you start to recognize what's real and what's fake.

𖤓 it would be heavy grumpy x sunshine vibes with you guys. or like...bitch x sweetheart. when everyone else finally finds out you guys are together, they're so surprised. no one can fathom the idea that you, one of the nicest people at robichaux's, are dating the literal bitch supreme.

"y/n, you're...dating her?" "careful nan, you might hurt my feelings."

𖤓 and speaking of everyone "finding out," i imagine you wouldn't do some big reveal where you announce it to everyone one day. you'd both just stop giving a shit about trying to hide your relationship from everyone else.

𖤓 sometimes you really have to tell her to chill tf out...like she'll be threatening someone over next to nothing and you're right behind her apologizing for her.

𖤓 but when it comes to defending you, she will stop at literally nothing to ruin their lives. if they mess with you, they mess with her, and no one messes with her. so by extension, no one messes with you. ever.

𖤓 you'd be the first person she wants to see after the resurrected. you'd see her and run into her arms crying, and she'd say something like "jesus, calm down, i'm fine," but she's tearing up too because she thought she'd never see you again.

𖤓 you're the thing that gets her to feel again after she's brought back. it's around this time that she first tells you she loves you. you wouldn't be doing anything in particular, maybe just lying around your room and watching a movie or something, and she'd realize that she actually feels okay. and then the words would just tumblr out before she can stop them.

"i love you."

𖤓 you'd look at her, and she doesn't see surprise or fear. just a smile.

"i love you too."

𖤓 there wouldn't be a big fuss about it either, you'd both just kinda put it out there and let it be. it's so un-madison to be so chill about it, but she likes it being lowkey. you're hers, she's yours, and that's it. it's one of the only things in her life that's just simple.

𖤓 and if you somehow died? she would do literally anything to resurrect you. there is no universe in which you get to stay dead. not if she has any say in it.

𖤓 before the seven wonders, she’ll pull you aside and tell you, no bullshit, that you have to make it out. you have no choice. neither of you. she won’t even entertain the idea of saying goodbye to you because she won’t fathom the idea of either of you not coming back.

𖤓 at the end of the day, you are the one she wants to be with. whether that's alive or dead, it's you. that's something that's constant in her life.

nsfw

𖤓 in my head, madison is extremely bisexual—she's attracted to anything that's hot. in a similar vein, she never really had an aha moment when she realized she was attracted to girls, it was always just kinda there and she thought, so what? she knew realistically that she kinda had to keep it quiet when she became famous because the media could be ruthless, but she knew who she was pretty early on.

𖤓 to start, madison loves giving hickeys. it ties in with her being a jealous person—what's better than a literal physical mark telling everyone that you're hers? she'll leave them everywhere too. your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts, inner thighs.

𖤓 when it comes to men, i feel like she'd lean more towards being bratty/submissive, but when it comes to women? she likes to be in control, for sure. she'd like to give and receive, but she adores watching you come undone on her fingers or her tongue.

𖤓 the best way i can think to describe her is rough but gentle. like, she can be vicious with you but then lean in and whisper "are you okay, baby?" and if you say no, she'll tone it down.

𖤓 she'd also tease the fuck out of you. like, anywhere. during dinner, when you're out, anywhere. she'll put a hand on your thigh and just eeeeeease it higher and higher until your face goes red and you have to push her hand away. she'll literally laugh at you when you stop her.

𖤓 at parties, she'll be all over you while you dance. you'll be pressed against each other, moving in sync, until you wander over to the corner and you can't keep your lips apart anymore. if it's dark enough, she'll even sneak a hand up your dress. she'd be so smug if she could make you come while you're literally on the dance floor.

𖤓 or she'll just drag you to the bathroom and make you sit on the counter so she can eat you out. and then afterwards she'd just fix her lipstick like nothing happened.

𖤓 i feel like if she had an inexperienced partner, she'd be really excited to be the first to do certain things to you, or to figure out what makes you tick. and if you were anxious or nervous about anything, she'd find it soooo cute. she'd be quick to put your worries to rest, though.

"relax, baby. let me take care of you."

𖤓 but sometimes, of course, she'd be more than happy to have to take control—she'd tell you exactly how she likes it and tells you when you're doing a great job. and she is loud. she's got no shame when it comes to that. she doesn't care if people hear her moaning—in fact, sometimes she'll purposely be so loud that she knows everyone can hear her. she doesn't care if people hear how good you make her feel. she also likes seeing the way your face flushes red whenever she does it.

𖤓 she's not exceptionally kinky, but there are deffffinitely a few things she likes. she'd be into breath play and temperature play—as in, she likes choking and sucking on an ice cube before eating you out. while she can be rough, she would never do anything to actually hurt you.

𖤓 we also saw how she was when zoe walked in on her and kyle—she loves the idea of getting caught. she has no clue why, but the idea of someone walking in when she's between your legs gets her so turned on.

𖤓 she'd also give you permission to use your charmspeak on her sometimes. you're hesitant at first, but eventually you indulge her.

𖤓 she'll use a healthy mix of praise and degradation and she likes getting both back. some days you're a good girl and some days you're a slut, there's no in between lmao.

𖤓 she's conflicted when it comes to adding a third person into the mix. on the one hand, the idea of anyone else getting to touch you the way she does makes her furious. on the other hand, she likes the idea of watching/having someone else watch. you'd probably have lots of discussions about it to see what you're both chill with, and it'd probably end with you both flirting with a guy at a party and having a threesome. it's not spectacular, it's not awful, it's just fun.

𖤓 before you, madison never really understood aftercare. mostly because she never got it, so she never expected it. she was used to hooking up and leaving either right after or in the morning, so she's pretty surprised when you ask her if she wants to shower with you after the first time you guys have sex.

𖤓 taking a shower or bath together becomes the norm after you have sex, but if you're too tired you'll just fall asleep tangled up in sheets together.

cherry coke (d. jones)

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader summary: after an exposing news article is published in rolling stone, daisy and y/n have to figure out how to deal with the world knowing the truth. warnings: swearing, homophobia (not a lot, just mentions and implications for plot reasons only, but nothing explicit), drugs, drinking, s*x (mentioned but not described), mentions of addiction (past and current), daisy wanting to commit h*micide (vengeful wife vibes)

author's note: so this is what i was doing while demotivated to write the chain. I PROMISE I WAS TRYING but this idea also appeared to me and i just. i had to guys. i HAD to. i'm glad you guys have enjoyed the final part of the chain (and by that i mean yelling at me in the comments for making you guys cry. no i am not sorry, this is what i was going for all along) but seriously, i love that you guys loved it. yes it was sad but i'm glad you all felt that with me, because boy was it difficult to write. so here's a happier one! i saw someone say that daisy jones gives iconic lesbian energy and i was like you know what???? i VERY much agree! like, she set so many trends and broke out of the box in so many ways...so like why not by being gay yk?? anyway, this one gets a lil angsty and then supa cute again so enjoy! i love you guys <3

DAISY JONES: You're famous long enough, you start to ignore the rumors. They're always gonna be there―some of 'em will surprise you when they're true, but most of the time they're just plain bullshit. You have to let them roll over you without a second thought. [pause]. But when that Rolling Stone article came out...it scared me. It was like Jonah Berg had stumbled on the gold mine of his career that could ruin mine in a second.

Y/N L/N: [holds up magazine] Inside Daisy Jones' and Y/n L/n's Torrid Love Affair. Quite the headline, huh? At the time, though, it kinda felt something like a death sentence. [pause] Look, the seventies were great, right? The parties, the music, the nightlife...but there were things that society just wasn't ready for yet. And that was what we were.

DAISY JONES: We were both so far deep into our denial then that it just...well, it made me want revenge [laughs]. But Y/n wasn't like that. She had her own things to deal with.

Y/N: Let me just tell you this one thing: never take your best friend on tour.

"You guys sold out this entire place?" Moody said as he looked around the giant stadium.

The band was in the middle of soundcheck in Henderson, but Y/n still found a moment to throw an arm over her childhood best friend's shoulders. "You sound surprised. If I were in a worse mood I might be offended."

Moody chuckled as Y/n wandered away to where Daisy was singing quietly into the main mic. Y/n knocked her foot into Daisy's boot as she passed, giving the girl a quick sly grin. Daisy returned it (not without a cleverly placed eye roll) and went on singing.

After a moment, an arm wrapped around Y/n's waist, pulling her back. She let out a shriek that melted into a laugh as Daisy pulled her back to the mic, saying, "Get back here and sing some harmonies with me!"

Moody watched with a quizzical look as Daisy and Y/n sang into the same microphone to test. Neither one of them could seem to really take it seriously; if their eyes met for even a second they'd laugh through the melody, effectively accomplishing nothing in the way of sound checking.

Eventually Y/n pulled herself away from the mic. She sang backup and harmonies on some of the songs off Aurora, but she never really liked having her own voice front and center. Besides, she was perfectly content to listen to Daisy sing. Daisy had a voice that demanded to be listened to. And Y/n loved it.

Billy passed by, impatiently shoving a guitar in Y/n's hand. "You gonna keep staring at Daisy, or are you gonna play?" he said in passing. Y/n stuck her tongue out at him and shouldered the guitar, still watching Daisy out of the corner of her eye as she plucked out the starting melody to Honeycomb.

Moody went to join the crowd when the first few concertgoers began to file in. From there it was a steady stream of fans, the chatter in the room growing louder and louder until thousands of people stood in the room, cheering and chanting for the band.

Moody had to admit it. He was impressed with what Y/n and the band had created for themselves.

The show began when Daisy walked onstage, red hair aglow in the pink and blue lights. There was glitter on her cheeks and dark makeup smudged around her eyes. And when Y/n walked onstage behind her, Moody noticed that she too had glitter on her face and lipstick smudged around her mouth.

The show was fantastic. When Daisy was at the mic (which, at that time, was always) she was electric, attracting light and eyes wherever she went. Whenever Billy stepped up to sing with her, it was like there was some instant kind of chemistry between them. They looked at each other, sang to each other, and it all made it feel like they were the only two in the room.

But there were times―few and far between, but still times―when Daisy would pick up the mic and go by Y/n as she played the guitar. In those moments, Daisy and Y/n would meet eyes, and the fits of laughter they'd had during soundcheck were nowhere in sight. They were focused on nothing but each other and the music. It seemed to suck all the air of the room in a single breath.

And during a particularly intricate guitar solo, Daisy got down on her knees in front of Y/n and sang up to her, setting the crowd ablaze with cheers and chatter.

Moody met back up with the band after the show, at which time Y/n leapt into his arms and stayed there, holding on and riding around as he greeted the other members of the band.

Daisy passed him last, and he gave her a short nod of his head. "Great show, Daisy."

"Why, thank you," she said in a very Daisy-way. As she passed, she gave a quick squeeze to Y/n's side, never taking her eyes off the girl until she was on the other side of them. It was an almost imperceptible gesture, but he saw.

Now, in that era of rock, shows didn't just stop after the set. The parties that followed were infamous for being the wildest place to be. Drugs and alcohol everywhere you looked, sex swimming in the air. If you wanted to dance a little too close to the devil, that was where you needed to be.

Moody got about as far as the entrance and tapped Y/n on the shoulder. "I'll meet you at your room."

She nodded, then bounced into the party without another word. I'll meet you at your room was code for their regular post-show routine. Y/n would go off to some party with Daisy and get shitfaced while Moody settled into Y/n's hotel room with a book. Around four or five in the morning, she'd stumble into her room, giggly and high, sometimes with Daisy at her side. Then Moody was in charge of sliding off her boots and making sure she sure got in bed and slept on her side. Then, he would go back to his own room for a few hours of well deserved sleep. Sometimes Daisy left, sometimes she didn't. Moody didn't put up much of a fight when it came to her.

Despite the fact that the party was nearly two floors above him, Moody could hear and feel the music through the ceiling. Hotel security never did much, mostly due to the hefty security deposit made by Rod and management. Hotels learned to expect this kind of thing when a rock band as famous as Daisy Jones & The Six came in town.

Meanwhile, Y/n was two floors above, stuck to Daisy's side, greeting everyone she saw and doing any drug she stumbled across. Her glass kept getting refilled, though she wasn't sure quite how. She allowed Daisy to pull her from group to group, keeping themselves latched together by the hand. And, around two in the morning, everyone was too faded to notice them slip out of the front door together.

The knock at Moody's door came at around 4:58. It was one, single sharp rap, then the dull thud of Y/n's head hitting the door. A soft giggle floated through the wood, "Let me in, Michael," she said, and he could practically hear the smile on her face through it.

He opened the door to see her leaned on the door frame, shoes in her hand, makeup smudged, hair messed up, clothing askew. Even then he thought she looked so beautiful, standing there, looking like she had just been blown through a tornado. Even then, she seemed to glow.

"G'morning," she greeted with a nod, stumbling in through the entryway.

Sure enough, she tripped over her own feet and nearly collapsed within a few seconds, sending Moody lunging to catch her around the waist. "Okay," he groaned, "no more of...well, anything for you tonight."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "If I had known you were going to be such a buzzkill, I woulda left you in Pittsburgh."

He guided her to the bed and sat her down. She slumped over, face half squished in the pillow. He held out a hand. "Give me all you got."

Y/n gave him a childish glare before digging in the pocket on her coat and pulling out half a dozen little baggies of pills and powders. She reluctantly smacked them into his hand, shifting further onto the bed to starting getting comfy.

"Thank you," he pocketed the drugs and started unlacing her boots. "You know, one of these days, all the parties are going to catch up to you, and you're either going to regret it, or you'll be passed out in the gutter. Just think about that."

"I've passed out in a gutter before. Not the best experience I've had, but not the worst."

He chuckled, sliding her coat off her arms. As he was pulling the covers over her, Y/n giggled. "I have a secret," she sang in a taunting voice.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, crouching down to her level. "Hit me."

"Nuh-uh. It doesn't work like that."

"Really? How does it work then?"

Y/n paused and thought for a moment. Then, she laughed again like she had just thought of something really dirty. "No!" she squealed. "No, no. I can't tell you. Nuh-uh."

Moody crossed his arms, giving her a pleading look, and then she sighed. "Fine," she relented with a grin, "Come here."

He leaned in, and she beckoned him even closer, until her lips were nearly pressed against his temple. Then, she spoke in a dreamy whisper, "I slept with the It Girl."

Moody pulled away, eyes wide. Y/n just giggled again like she couldn't believe it. She laid down on her side, eyes fluttering closed as she hummed the tune of Tiny Love. "Big eyes, big soul, big heart, no control, but all she got to give is Tiny Love."

She giggled like a maniac, seeming to find humor in those words then, and Moody went unnoticed as he stumbled out of the room, mind reeling at a million miles an hour. Y/n's giddy giggles floated up through the hallway after him, chasing him, until they finally came to a sudden stop.

The next morning she was awoken by Rod knocking at her door, yelling something about the bus leaving in ten. With a heavy pounding in her head, Y/n got up, and found she was unable to recall anything from the night before. Well, all except one thing―a thing that brought a little smile to her face when she recalled it.

After a sluggish bout of packing, the band was off to the next city―Sacramento, they told her. Good. She missed California.

All was normal for the drive. All except Moody. He hardly spoke to her, despite being a very talkative person normally. And when she did address him directly, he responded in as few words as possible. He was angry with her―they had been friends long enough for Y/n to be able to recognize that much. Eventually she gave up on trying to coax him to conversation and sat by Daisy, leaning her head on the girl's shoulder to try and get some sleep.

They made a stop before the hotel at some dinky dive bar to meet with Jonah Berg, a reporter for Rolling Stone. They sat around a table and drank, talking a little about the album and a lot about where they were headed next.

When things began to wind down and the band started to pack up, Jonah noticed Moody standing at the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at no one in particular. Something about him looked like a story waiting to happen.

"Are you with the band?" he asked.

"Sure, you could say that."

Jonah lowered his voice. "Then what's got you looking all stormy?"

Moody paused, grappling with his next decision. He could either say it was nothing and tell Jonah Berg to buzz off, which, in all respects, would be the better choice. Or, he could tell the truth. And that, of course, would be disastrous. But people often made the disastrous choice when their feelings were involved.

Then he looked back at Y/n and Daisy, swaying together as Karen played a bluesy tune on the piano, and his heart constricted in his chest.

And then he made his decision.

DAISY: February 12, 1976. The day I almost committed murder.

Y/N: Okay, it wasn't that dramatic.

DAISY: [silence]

Y/N: Okay, maybe it was.

When Daisy walked into sound check that day, an hour and a half late, she did not find the band playing their instruments and practicing songs. Instead they all sat around atop their amps and chairs, with Rod standing at the back. All eyes turned to her the second she walked in. Well, all except Y/n's. She was sitting on the stage, legs tucked to her chest, tears streaming down her face. Karen and Warren sat behind her, each holding a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. And even though she had no idea what was going on, Daisy could only think about how it should be her comforting Y/n before anyone else.

"Are you just going to keep on staring, or am I allowed to know what's going on?"

And then Billy held out The Rolling Stone. "See for yourself."

KAREN: When Y/n read through that article, it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. She got all teary and quiet, and then she just shut down. She wouldn't talk to anyone. But Daisy? Daisy got mad. So mad it looked like she was going to burn the world down.

Daisy gripped The Rolling Stone with white knuckles. It had everything. From the time they met, to that night in Henderson. It was like they had ghosts following them everywhere, whispering in Jonah Berg's ear. Daisy didn't dare look at Y/n now, mostly because she couldn't quite be sure yet that this wasn't her own fault.

After she had finished reading, she threw down the article and stomped towards the phone in the corner. "That son of a bitch."

Rod stepped in. "Daisy, hold on―"

"No! If that bastard thinks he can just ruin my career for the sake of his own, then he can hear it from me exactly what kind of hell his life is about to become."

"Look, Daisy, if it's not true, we can call Jonah and work this all out."

Daisy stopped, the receiver floating in her hand, her chest heaving.

"Daisy?" Rod said, "It's not true, is it?"

The band went silent, looking towards Daisy. Her head was dropped, red hair shielding her face from them. Slowly, the hand holding the receiver dropped, and Daisy turned to them, her pale face flushed red. And instead of angry, she just looked hopeless. That was all it took to make them understand.

After a moment of silence, Y/n finally spoke up, "Who would do this?"

"Whoever it is, they know everything," Billy said, "that's a pretty short list."

Graham frowned. "Hang on, you're not saying that one of us did this, are you?"

"No, I'm just saying that it's not like we have a very long suspect list."

"Oh! So we're suspects now!"

"Graham―"

The door opened and the band looked over to see Moody walk in. All at once they fell silent. And as Y/n watched him walk in, it all clicked. A gasp ripped through her throat and she covered her mouth, sickness swirling in her stomach.

Moody seemed to understand too. "Guys, hang on―"

Daisy muttered something under her breath and ditched the phone, stomping towards Moody with her hands curled into fists. Rod and Billy just about leaped off the stage to hold her back. None of them wanted to witness the bloodbath that was sure to occur if Daisy got her hands on Moody.

"Did you do this?" Daisy demanded. Moody stayed silent and she laughed. "Come on, you might as well own up to it now!"

"Guys!" Karen shouted. Daisy turned, ready to scream for everyone to stay the hell out of this, but her words died on her tongue when she saw Y/n run backstage, followed by the deft slamming of a door. Everybody looked back at Daisy. She looked back at Moody, fury blazing in her chest like a dozen white hot suns. She wanted to throttle him and stomp on his head.

But she didn't know where Y/n was going. And she'd rather know that before she killed her best friend.

Daisy turned on her heel, stomping away in the direction that Y/n left. Moody let out a sigh of relief when she disappeared, the door slamming behind her. "Crazy..." he muttered, looking back at the group. He was met with six steely glares, and that's when he realized he was in a room full of people who probably hated him now.

Daisy saw her at the hotel bar, sitting alone. She was so quiet and still that it almost made her want to cry. Y/n was hurt. And worst of all, she was hurt by one of her best friends. That had to sting like hell.

Daisy quietly sidled up beside her, taking the seat next to her. "Whatcha got there?"

"A cherry coke," Y/n responded. Daisy gave her a look and she just shook her head. "Believe me, I'd rather be drinking something that would make me forget. But it's not even noon and I've been thinking about quitting."

That was a lie. The quitting part, not the part about it not being noon yet.

"So that's what it is then, huh?" Daisy asked with a wry grin, but there was something behind it. Something a little sadder. "Just a stupid news article?"

Y/n turned to her immediately, eyes softening. "Daisy," she said softly, "of course not. You know that."

"Well, now so does everybody in the world."

She quieted, nodding and taking a sip from the glass. She sat it back down, sighing. "So, do we..."

Y/n trailed off, her eyes drifting behind Daisy. Daisy turned her head and saw Moody leaving the theater. He stopped in place, looking at them as though he were watching open heart surgery. Y/n murmured something quick to Daisy and let her go, heading in towards Moody.

For a moment he thought she might slap him, and for a moment so did she. But instead she stared him dead in the face with the same eyes he'd seen on every birthday, every holiday, every good memory. And right then, they looked so hardened that he could barely recognize them.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asked, her voice laced with warning. He gave no response. She continued. "I have spent my entire life trying to figure out who I am―you know that better than anyone. For the first time...I think I did. I think I finally understand."

She glanced back at Daisy, then back to Moody. "And you had to fuck that up for me."

He again said nothing.

"I think it's best if you go home," she said. "If you try and get on that bus tomorrow, I'll have Rod call the cops. Better yet, if I get back to my hotel room tonight and you're there, I might just throw you out the window. And I'm on the tenth floor, so I wouldn't take that chance."

Daisy couldn't hear a word she was saying, but the look of horror on Moody's face told her all she needed to know. And with it she felt some sense of pride.

Y/n walked away, leaving him frozen in place. She held out a hand to Daisy. "Come on."

And Daisy just grinned, taking Y/n's hand and letting her pull her out of her seat and guide her away. She cast one last fiery glare at Moody before he disappeared from sight, immediately melting into a smile while Y/n drew her to the elevators.

He had been her best friend for over two decades. And right then she couldn't bear to be around him.

DAISY: I was ready to burn him at the stake. Unfortunately, my wife is a little more forgiving than I am.

Y/N: He was in our wedding party, on my side behind Karen and Eddie. I knew he felt bad for what he'd done, and he apologized about a million times. He'd been one of my best friends since I was little. It would've been hard to cut him out of my life, and it was hard to keep him in it. But time healed the shallower wounds, society warmed up to some things, and life got easier. I just feel glad that I got to a point in my life where I could find it in myself to forgive him.

Less than twenty minutes later, the pair were in Daisy's hotel room, arms wrapped around each other, each lying comfortably on the spacious king-sized bed. They'd talked for a while, then lapsed into a comfortable silence, where they just held each other. That was all they felt they could do.

But they were happy. As Daisy ran fingers through Y/n's hair, it occurred to her that right then, she felt less complicated than she ever had in the past. It felt like the sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds to shed some life on her life and who she was. So Daisy, finally feeling like she was bathed in spotlight, smiled. "Fuck Rolling Stone."

And Y/n, who felt like decades-old wounds were healing, laughed. "Fuck Rolling Stone."

The uncensored interviews came out and it's confirmed. He does indeed say "eat my pussy bitch" to Gerri 😂