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symptom of life | rain carradine
pairing: rain carradine x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of blood (that’s not actually there)
summary: in the middle of her journey to yvaga, rain discovers r’s cryopod has opened.
author’s note: I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE I LOVE RAIN CARRADINE THAT’S ALL :) send me rain requests if you want! i’ll be writing about her either way lol also this was supposed to be smut but I changed it last minute LMAOO, lmk if that’s something you guys are interested in seeing!

The first breath felt like a splash of ice cold water.
She was bathed in light the moment her eyes opened—white light, the kind that seared your eyes like staring directly into the sun. Sun. Rain.
Her hands stretched out and found the cold, hard, top of the cryopod. All it took was a little push and, with a hiss, the door swung open. Warm air flooded in. Like a creature reborn from its mechanical pod, she slinked out of her chrysalis and left, leaving only the vague imprint of a body behind as proof she was ever there.
As for Rain, she was on edge the moment she heard clanking from somewhere in the ship. At the sound, her heart nearly leapt into her throat, her toothbrush frozen in midair. At once, her mind was flooded with horrible realities—another Xenomorph had made it onto the ship somehow and was now lying it wait to sink its teeth into her. A parasite had crawled into the ship and was waiting for the perfect moment to spring on her and do its dirty work. Either way, she was screwed. Even worse, so was Andy. So was Y/N. Rain’s heart clenched at the idea of the two of them, helpless, locked in cryopods, oblivious to the terror around them. Even worse, she could picture the moment they awoke to find Rain a cold corpse.
No. Quit that.
Abandoning her toothbrush, Rain crept into the hallway, her fingers itching for a gun or a stick or some kind of weapon. Anything, really. But no, she was on her own. She should be used to that by now. Slow step by slow step, she followed the direction of the clanking, every movement a cautious twitch. She willed her heart to slow, but nothing would help. Eventually she entered the wide room where Andy and Y/N’s pods sat. Except now, something had changed—one of them had opened. Her body went cold.
She practically threw herself across the room to the still closed cryopod, and found Andy’s peacefully sleeping face in beneath the glass window. She let out a breath.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she whispered in relief, both to herself and to him. She looked to the empty pod, half expecting to see a bloody mess where Y/N was lying. But she saw nothing of the sort. The pod was just…empty. As though she’d gotten up and walked out of her own accord.
At once, Rain’s head was on a violent swivel, searching the room for her. She dashed out of the room and down the opposite hallway, her breath coming hard and fast. She was here. She had to be.
“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice sounding starkly unlike her own. She turned corners and searched rooms quicker than she ever thought herself capable of.
After a few minutes she was worried she was going to run herself in circles. She walked and walked and walked, barely keeping track of where she'd been and where she was heading. She searched like a madman, scanning every corner for her. She’s in here, she kept repeating to herself. I just have to find her.
“Rain?”
She froze. The voice was soft, gentle, like the voice of someone who didn’t believe what they were seeing. It made her arms cold and her face heat up all at once. She turned, and there she was, standing at the end of the corridor, her left arm still wrapped in a thick bandage like it had been when Rain put her in that damn pod. The sight of her caused her chest to seize, her eyes to burn, and her heart to pound in her chest.
Y/N, on the other hand, picked up her bare feet and ran at Rain the moment she saw her.
It was less of a hug and more of a desperate attempt to hold on and never let go, their chests colliding with such force that the air was knocked out of both of them. Rain wrapped her arms around Y/N and squeezed, ignoring the burn in her arms and the tears that cropped up in her eyes. Y/N’s shoulders shook with tears that she didn’t know were coming, but in an instant they were there, tracing warm rivulets down her cheeks.
“Hey…” Rain whispered into her shoulder, her voice choked, “you’re okay, baby. You’re alright.”
“I didn’t know w-where you were,” Y/N sobbed. Her voice was muffled in Rain’s shoulder. “I-I thought—“
“I know, I know.”
Y/N pulled away, cradling Rain’s face in her hands. “Are you okay? Where are we going?”
“I’m okay,” Rain said, smoothing Y/N’s wild hair out of her face. “We’re heading for Yvaga.”
Y/N’s eyes widened at that. She sucked in a breath, almost afraid to ask, afraid to jinx it. “Yvaga?” She breathed. “We made it?”
At that, Rain’s face broke out into a small smile.
“Yeah. We did.”
They were heading towards Yvaga. After everything they went through, all the shit that they survived, they were finally getting what they wanted. They weren’t going back to Jackson’s Star, they didn’t have to worry about being forced to work until the day they both died. For once, they were going to see the sun.
Y/N leaned in, pressing her lips to Rain’s. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in that pod—hours, days, months—but it’d been too long since she’d been able to feel like this.
Rain kissed her hard, grappling onto her waist like she’d lose her if she let go. She pulled away from the kiss, leaning her forehead against Y/N’s, her breath coming hard and fast.
“I love you,” she breathed, “so fucking much.”
Y/N felt tears sting her eyes—not the ones of fear and loss that she’d been used to lately. Real fucking tears. Happy ones.
“I love you too.”
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.





NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE
pairing: isabel (bottoms) x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none unless you count intentional lowercase lol
summary: y/n finds a surprise guest after closing night of the musical.

“isabel!”
there could not have been worse timing. y/n was freshly out of the dressing room, her makeup hastily removed and skincare hastily done, leaving her with oddly shiny skin and remnants of mascara left under her eyes. she had already taken off her costume, leaving her in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater. and there was isabel, looking perfect in a flowery dress and smelling like vanilla.
the two had met in fight club a few months prior, and it was safe to say that the events of the huntington game had brought everyone a little closer—y/n and isabel in particular. of course, isabel was still a popular cheerleader and y/n was still a semi unknown member of the drama department, but they smiled at each other in the hallway now, so…progress?
“hi,” isabel said with a little wave. y/n waved back, still a little stunned by her being there. before she could respond, though, isabel suddenly reached for something under her arm. “oh, uh, these are for you.”
she held out a small bouquet of yellow flowers, and y/n felt her face start to heat up. “oh wow, these are…beautiful,” she stuttered, taking them from her. she awkwardly held them up to their nose, smelling them. they smelled like flowers (duh), but there was the slightest hint of isabel's vanilla body spray. she decided in that moment that these flowers were going in a vase in her room and would be watered every damn day. she'd keep them alive if it killed her.
“i had no idea you could sing like that," isabel said, "if i could sing like you, i'd, like, do it all the time."
y/n laughed at that, her face flushing red. "thanks."
isabel opens her mouth to answer, but a guy walked by and hugged y/n, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. "we all good to leave for the party?" he asked. he was another cast member in the show—playing y/n's love interest.
"yeah, go ahead. i got everything set up earlier today."
the guy nodded and headed out with a small group of cast and crew. isabel saw people starting to trickle out and started to wonder if she should leave. "well, i guess i'll see you-"
"there's a cast party at my house, if you wanna join," y/n said quickly, before trying to casually add, "or whatever."
“isn’t that, like, a theater person thing?” isabel asked with a laugh.
“traditionally, yes, but it’s my house and i want you in it.”
isabel paused, considering the request. she didn't have anywhere to be tonight. if it were a couple months ago, she would've been hanging out with jeff at some lame party. she probably wouldn't even know that the school musical was mamma mia, or that y/n was playing sophie. she'd never be here. somehow that made her sad. "sure," she said eventually, "i'd love to."
y/n let out a breath (which she belatedly realized was a sigh of relief). "cool. i'll send you the address."
isabel nodded and the two parted ways. less than a minute later, isabel's phone dinged with a text from y/n, sending her her home address. she put it into maps and pulled out of the school parking lot, trying to ignore the way her hands were shaking on the wheel.
y/n thought she looked like an idiot, waiting by the door for her to show up. the party went into full swing as time progressed, with more people showing up. the pizza arrived, the drinks (soda) were flowing, and isabel was nowhere in sight. y/n was eventually about to give up and accept that isabel had decided not to show, when the door suddenly opened and there she was, looking around the foyer, entirely lost.
y/n tried to emerge from around the corner like she hadn't even known she was there. "oh, you made it!" she said, hoping to god she played that off semi-normal.
"yeah, sorry, i got lost," she laughed. "your house is really nice."
"thanks," y/n replied, "um, let me go check in with mark and i'll give you a tour."
without another word, y/n moved through the kitchen and went to the backyard, tapping mark roughly on the shoulder. "make sure no one breaks anything, i have to go do something."
mark glanced over and saw isabel standing at the door. a smirk formed on his face. "or do someone—"
y/n slapped his arm. "shut up!"
mark laughed and raised his hands in surrender. "i'll hold down the fort."
"thank you. jesus."
"have fun getting freaky with a cheerleader!"
y/n flashed him her middle finger and walked off, heading back to where isabel was standing. "alright, i've ensured the house won't be burned down in my absence. i'll give you the grand tour."
they weaved through the kitchen, the living room, the office, and headed upstairs. y/n narrated as they went (and narrated here means talking until she was out of breath, purely out of nerves, giving isabel zero time to get a single word in).
the last stop on the tour—the one y/n was dreading the most—was her room. she did a quick peek inside first to make sure nothing too compromising was on the floor (socks, underwear, etc.). after throwing a loose sweater in the closet, she invited isabel in, standing in front of her barely made bed like a kindergartener presenting their project.
isabel's eyes drifted to the picture frames on her desk from all her previous musical productions, starting from the time she was five years old. "you've been doing this for a while, huh?"
"pretty much my whole life. my parents put me into every sport imaginable, but those didn't really work out."
"i wish my mom had let me be in plays and stuff. she says all the girls who do theater end up pregnant by college," isabel replied dreamily. then. upon seeing y/n's face, clarified, "but i'm sure that won't be the case for you! my mom says weird stuff sometimes."
y/n laughed, making a mental note to stay away from isabel's mom. she sat down on her bed, watching as isabel floated throughout the room, looking at her posters and pictures, before finally she sat down next to her on the edge. y/n's heart sped up.
"it's really cool that you can get up on a stage and just...sing like that," isabel said. "i can't really sing very well."
"but i can't dance nearly as well as you."
"oh, come on, i saw you during...what was it? lay all your love on me?"
"if you consider crawling seductively on the floor to be dancing, then sure."
"well, you looked good doing it."
y/n's smile faltered ever so slightly at that. isabel was sitting so close she could feel the heat radiating off her, stray hairs tickling her arm. she looked over at her and was met with her piercing grey eyes. and in that instant she lost every inch of nerve she had, leaning in and kissing isabel softly.
and it was great, right up until isabel pushed her away with a schoked look on her face.
"how could you do that?!" isabel exclaimed.
y/n's heart plummeted into her stomach. oh god. oh god, i messed that up bad. "oh my god, i-i'm so sorry, i didn't mean-"
"you have a boyfriend!"
she froze. "what?"
"that guy from the show! the one that kissed you!"
y/n's brows furrowed. "mark?" she asked. isabel nodded and y/n shook her head. "no, no, mark is gay! we're just friends!"
"he is? i mean, you are?"
"yes!" y/n said, a relieved laugh escaping her lips.
"oh," isabel said, feeling slightly embarrased. "sorry. i didn't mean to scare you, i just...i hate cheaters, you know? 'cause of jeff, and all that..."
"yeah, of course, i totally understand," y/n replied. "i hate cheaters too. just, like, on principle."
isabel nods, and they stand in silence for a few moments. y/n focuses on trying to get her heartbeat down from its breakneck pace. that was almost a disaster. well, it basically was.
after a few minutes of silence, isabel speaks.
"so...did you want to kiss me again?"
y/n turned, eyes wide. "hm?"
"oh, sorry, never mind, i thought—"
"no, no i heard you, i just...do you want me to?"
isabel smiled sheepishly. "yeah."
y/n breathed in shakily. "okay," she nodded, before gently leaning in and kissing her again. this time, isabel didn't pull away. this time she pulled her in by the waist and kissed her through a smile.
mamma. fucking. mia.
hi ! imagine Madison Montgomery being frustrated because unlike other witches, reader is super chill, and a little sarcastic, so any time she acts up, reader always replies something witty, but never gets angry at her. so she purposefully tries to piss her off to get a rise out of her, which seems impossible, and turns into a 5+1 type of thing (5 times she tries to annoy her and one time she does). Except that when does, reader gets really pissed at her and it shifts to make-up sex (may i request a soft dom madison). I hope it makes sense because it did in my head. have a good day !
hiiiii!!! omg i love this prompt so much, thank you for requesting it! i ended up only doing 3 rather than 5 because i could only come up with so much HAHA. hope you enjoy ♡



3 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙜𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮/𝙣 𝙤𝙛𝙛…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 1 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙
pairing: madison montgomery x fem!reader
word count:
warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking, smut

Madison Montgomery has a habit of pissing people off. It's not she goes around trying to ruin people's days (but if she does, they probably deserve it...) but if she doesn't wreak a little havoc before sundown, that pretty much means she's had an off day. Making people angry was her specialty.
Not Y/N, though. Never Y/N. No matter how much Madison bitched and moaned, Y/N wouldn't yell or get pissed off. It was almost like that was one of her abilities. Even Nan would find herself at her wit's end because of Madison some days. But not Y/N.
And so, out of pure curiosity (or enjoyment), Madison decided to do a little experiment.
— attempt #1
"Oh, come on, Y/N! All the cool kids are doing it!"
Already the experiment was failing. Madison had whipped out one of her beloved joints from her stash and propped their bedroom window open to smoke. Y/N sat on her bed, studying. She politely declined to join Madison in smoking, and Madison saw an opening.
"Don't be a pussy."
Y/N just shrugged. "I'm good. Say hi to Scooby and Shaggy for me, though."
"Scooby and Shaggy weren't stoners."
"Please, did you watch that show? They were totally stoners."
Madison didn't respond, taking another puff and blowing it out the window. She looked at Y/N, so calm no matter what. After a few moments, Madison stood and walked over to the bed, taking the book off Y/N's lap and moving it to the side. Before Y/N could protest, Madison threw a leg on either side of her waist and put the joint between Y/N's lips, forcing her to take a hit.
Y/N's eyes went wide for a moment, purely out of surprise, but she quickly recovered. She coughed a bit, smoke spilling out of her mouth. Madison expected her to curse her out, or at the very least yell, but Y/N just looked up at her with a calm expression. "Are you happy now?"
Madison tried to hide her frustration. "Fucking fabulous."
"Lovely. Now can I keep studying?"
Madison just rolled her eyes and muttered a whatever, allowing Y/N to pick her book up and go back to studying.
Well that was a fucking bust.
— attempt #2
The second time, Madison figured a group setting might be best. It all started over breakfast, when a fight broke out between Madison and Queenie. It was about something or other—Y/N never paid much attention to these fights. She usually dedicated her energy to breaking them up when they got ugly.
"Bitch, I swear to God!"
Queenie used telekinesis to send a full glass of orange juice at Madison, who used her telekinesis to send it straight into Y/N's lap. She jumped up as the cold juice splashed all over her legs, a gasp escaping her lips.
"Oops," Madison said with a little laugh.
Y/N let out a deep breath, and Madison was sure she was going to scream. But she straightened up, grabbed a napkin, and dabbed at her now stained clothes. "I'm going to go change," she said as though nothing had happened, "Madison, try not to start a food fight while I'm gone, okay?"
She left, leaving Queenie to snicker in satisfaction. Madison clenched her jaw. That bitch was way too chill.
— attempt #3
"Let's play a game."
Madison was getting desperate. This was proving to be more of a challenge than she previously anticipated.
Y/N, who was levitating a book a few feet in the air, let it drop into her hands. "I'm down."
"Shit, anything's better than this," Queenie said, and Nan hummed in agreement.
Madison grinned. "Forget levitating books," she said, letting her copy of Great Expectations thud to the table. "Let's learn to fly."
With a flick of her wrist, Y/N levitated into the air, a little shriek escaping her lips as she flew. Madison put her down after a few moments and Y/N looked at her in awe. "How the hell did you do that?"
"Please, it's easy. It's just like levitating pens."
"Let me try," Queenie said, focusing her eyes on Madison. Within an instant, Madison was five feet in the air, shouting at Queenie to put her back down. She did so (not before letting her hang a while longer) and crossed her arms in satisfaction. "Huh. That was fun."
Madison flipped her off. Nan looked at Y/N. "Me next," she said excitedly.
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, focusing, and then opened them. Immediately, Nan rose a few feet into the air, an excited smile spreading on her face. Y/N smiled a bit, relieved. Madison saw her opportunity. "Come on, bring her a little higher."
"I think this is good," Y/N said calmly.
"Madison's right," Nan said, "I could knock some dust off the chandelier."
Y/N hesitated, pursing her lips for a moment. Then, with a little upwards motion, Nan began to rise higher into the air. Her grin grew as she floated higher and higher, reaching out to touch the crystalline tip of the chandelier.
Madison's fingers twitched a bit as she brought her focus to Nan. What followed happened in the blink of an eye: Madison took control of Nan and proceeded to put her into free fall, and Y/N, upon seeing Nan start to fall, moved the couch underneath her to break the fall. Nan landed with a thud and groaned in pain, having hit her knee in the fall. Y/N's hand flew up to cover her mouth. She hadn't done that, had she?
Before there was too much of a ruckus, Cordelia suddenly appeared in the doorway, having heard the thud. "What happened?"
"Y/N dropped me!" Nan said angrily, clutching her knee.
Cordelia fixed her eyes on Y/N, an uncharacteristic anger taking hold. "Y/N, you know the rules. No using magic on your fellow witches," Cordelia said sharply, going to help Nan.
"I didn't—!" Y/N began, and Madison perked up, waiting for the blowout. But Y/N just paused, taking a breath. "I know. My bad. Sorry, Nan."
Now Madison started to feel a little guilty—a feeling she was not well acquainted with. "She's fine," she said, gesturing to Nan, "she fell a few feet, big whoop."
Cordelia gave her a sharp look before returning her gaze to Y/N. "I trust it won't happen again," she said pointedly.
Y/N nodded. "Yep."
Cordelia left with Nan in tow, and Y/N just turned back to the group, eyes fixing on Madison. "You owe me, movie star."
There was no malice in her words—not even in the slightest. She just went back to practicing levitation with the book without a fight. It was Madison who was fuming and resisting the urge to throw Great Expectations against the wall as she watched Y/N carry on as if nothing had happened.
— attempt #4 (the 1 time it worked)
The last plan was half-baked, as Madison only came up with it when the two of them were at a frat party a few blocks away and Madison had already had three shots of vodka. A guy across the room had been eye-fucking her all night—well, he was one of them. Madison expected all eyes on her when she went out, so she carefully selected those she wanted to reciprocate eye contact with. It was only when she noticed this particular guy's friend that an idea formed in her head.
"Come with me," she said, taking Y/N's hand.
"Where are we going?"
"Ever heard of a two-man?"
Y/N shouted something that Madison didn't hear. They were deep in the throes of the party now, connected at the hand to prevent themselves from getting split up. Y/N stayed a few feet behind as Madison went up to the two guys and started talking. She couldn't make out a word of what they were saying, but one of them kept eyeing her while the other couldn't tear his eyes off Madison. Eventually they seemed to come to some kind of agreement and Madison took Y/N's hand again, both of them following the two guys up the stairs.
"Their names are Andy and...something else, I don't know," Madison said as they went up the stairs.
"Where are we going?"
She didn't get an answer. They ended up in a bedroom at the end of the hallway—empty, secluded, and only a little bit quieter than the rest of the house. For a moment, the four of them just stood there, staring each other up and down like sizing them up. Then Madison grinned at Andy. "Well? Are we gonna get this started or what?"
Andy glanced at the other one (Y/N felt horrible that she still didn't know his name) and then looked back at the two girls. "You first."
Y/N frowned, confused, but before she could ask for clarification, Madison rolled her eyes and pulled Y/N in to kiss her hard. It took a good few moments to get over the initial shock of the kiss. Y/N noticed that she tasted like cigarettes and smelled like Dior perfume. Madison's tongue briefly swiped her bottom lip, and then she pulled away, fixing her lipstick and turning back to the boys. "Happy?"
They didn't respond.
Now, by this point, Y/N had taken at least three rounds of shots with Madison, so her reaction time was a bit impaired. Before she could really assess, one of the guys (Not Andy) had his lips on hers and was attempting to unzip her dress, and she realized all at once that she did not want to be in this situation.
Y/N pushed the guy off of her. "What the fuck?"
Andy looked at Madison. "I thought you said she was cool with it."
"She is cool with it," Madison replied, "right, Y/N?"
Y/N looked at her like she was crazy. "No, Madison, I'm not cool with this! Oh my God!"
Without another word, Y/N stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and out onto the street. It wasn't until she was down the front steps of the house that she realized Madison had followed her.
"Y/N, Jesus Christ, slow down," Madison said. Y/N didn't slow down. Madison rolled her eyes. "This was your idea!"
Y/N stopped, whirling around to look at the blonde. "No it wasn't, Madison! It's always your idea! It's always your shit that gets me into trouble! I've tried to be nice about it and let things go, but I'm fucking done, okay? I'm done."
She turned and kept walking, and Madison realized she had finally gotten what she wanting—Y/N was truly and royally pissed.
Y/N didn't talk the entire way back to Robicheaux's. Madison trailed a few feet behind her (partially because her heels were killing her), trying not to let on how worried she really was. The longer she was silent, the more Madison realized she had never really seen Y/N mad before. Nor did she really know how long she was able to stay mad for.
When they got back, Y/N went straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Madison stood outside for a moment, wondering if she should ask to talk, but then she heard the shower run. She took that as her cue to leave.
Ten minutes later, Y/N walked back into the room, wrapped in a towel, hair wet. She sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, absentmindedly brushing knots out of her hair. Madison watched her for a moment before getting up and crossing the room. She sat down beside her and Y/N gave no indication that she even registered her presence. She just went on brushing her hair as if no one was there.
Eventually Madison reached out and gently took the hairbrush out of her hands. "Hey, look at me," Madison said softly.
Reluctantly, Y/N looked over at her, her face stoic. Madison took her now empty hand. "I'm sorry, okay?"
"Whatever, Maddie. It's fine—"
"No, it's not," Madison interrupted. "It was stupid. I should've made sure you were fine with it, or whatever. Just...let me make it up to you."
She reached out, moving the wet hair away from Y/N's neck. She leaned in slowly, taking in the smell of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla body wash. Then she pressed a soft kiss to the side of Y/N's neck, right over her pulse point.
Y/N made no objection or attempt to stop her, so Madison trailed kisses up her jaw and cheek. Y/N tilted her head and tried to ignore the pounding in her chest as Madison gently laid her down, placing a knee on either side of Y/N's body.
"Tell me to stop and I will," Madison whispered, but Y/N made no noise, allowing her to continue.
Madison's lips reached hers again, but this kiss was unlike the one at the party. That one had been rushed and performative, trying to stroke whatever fetish Andy and Not Andy were into. That kiss had filled Y/N's stomach with shock and confusion. This one started a fire in her chest, one that sent pinpricks of electricity down to her fingertips. Madison nipped at her top lip and ran her hands through her hair. She was gentler than Y/N expected her to be, but every once in a while she got a little tug on her hair that seemed extremely in-character for Madison.
Y/N and Madison's hands met at the fold of her towel, both of them fighting to untuck it. Soon enough it was discarded on the floor, and with it Madison's shirt. Madison immediately went to work, leaving hickeys on her chest. She came back up and pressed a kiss on Y/N's temple as her hand slowly slid in between her legs.
"Maddie," Y/N breathed, her eyes fluttering in pleasure.
Madison grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Do you forgive me?"
"Yes."
Madison's lips curled into a smirk. "Good girl."



⋆♱✮♱⋆ 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.
beneath the ice (peter prior)



pairing: peter prior x fem!reader
summary: sometimes following a lead can be a deadly pursuit with unforseen circumstances. especially in ennis.
wc: 4k
warnings: situations of peril (description of a near drowning), swearing, blood, hospitals, peter and kayla r separated and getting a divorce sorryyy, kissing/making out
author's note: HI SORRY I DISAPPEARED FOR FOREVER HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU. i started college last fall so i guess i just got caught up in the swing of things and really lost my game, but here i am! can't promise i won't disappear again as i still do have to finish up the semester (and i may be writing an original novel *winky face*) but i just HAD to come on here and rant because the true detective brainrot is real guys. so so real. i was literally looking for content after the first ep and i was like wait...it doesn't even exist yet which is SO CRAZY because usually i write for/obsess over characters with so much content already out there so like. i guess i gotta make the content this time??? let me know if you want more peter fics because the brainrot is REALLLL. okay, love you! hope you enjoy!

"This is a bad idea."
"Yeah, probably."
Y/N had had it up to here with Peter's complaints. They stood at the edge of the frozen lake, their flashlights beaming over the glassy surface. It was around three o'clock, the sixth day of dark. Y/N still didn't feel fully adjusted to the constant darkness, especially with the case of the Tsalal station in full force. Sleep was a rare commodity nowadays, and she usually relied on that sleep to keep her sense of night and day in check. She wasn't getting any of that now.
"We're not going to be able to see anything from here," she muttered, squinting out at the lake. She took a tentative step off the snowy edge and tested the ice, putting half her weight on it to see if it would hold.
Peter saw what she was thinking before she did it, and he was going to do his damned best not to let it happen. "You're not going out there."
Y/N looked back at him. "I used to be a dancer, remember? I'm light on my feet."
"You were a tap dancer."
"Same difference."
She put one foot on the ice, taking a step forward. There was a little creaking sound as the ice adjusted to her weight, but it held. Peter caught her arm before she could take another. "Y/N."
She pursed her lips. "You can come with me if you want, but it might only hold one of us. Your choice."
"We'll call someone. We'll call Danvers, or—"
"We're here now. We might as well get out there and start looking."
He didn't like this idea. He did not like this plan. But Y/N had, seemingly, set on it. There wasn't much he could do now to stop her. He couldn't beat her, and joining her would probably make things worse. All he could do now was watch her. "Stay close to the edge."
Y/N grinned. "I knew you'd come around."
She turned and aimed her beam of light at the glassy ice, taking a few, slow steps forward. She could see straight through the glass now, to the rocky bottom below. If her lead was right...something would be here. Awena Lake. Something was here.
She traversed farther and farther onto the frozen surface, the wind whipping her hair around her face. She was far. Too far, in Peter's opinion. He was about to call out to her when suddenly she stopped, staring down at a place in the ice.
What he didn't know was that she was staring down at a face.
She whispered something her voice quiet, terrified. Then, a scream. Y/N fell to her knees, punching at the ice, trying to break through.
"Y/N!"
She heard Peter calling her name, but she could only focus on breaking through that ice. Punched and punched and punched until her knuckles split and suddenly the ice below her was getting painted with blood every time she brought a fist down. She was almost in a trance, beating away at the solid glacial matter that just wouldn't break.
But then, of course, it did.
It happened so quick that Peter couldn't missed it if he blinked at the wrong moment. One second he was taking slow, cautious steps onto the ice, heading to get Y/N before she did something really stupid. The next second there was a sound like breaking plaster and a splash, and Y/N disappeared under the ice.
She felt hands grasping at her, trying to pull her down. And a voice—there was definitely a voice. She couldn't quite make it out. She opened her mouth to scream back, and as the cold water rushed into her lungs, her lips formed one question: what happened to you?
Her vision went black before she got an answer.
Music. The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the music. And the fact that she was warm, when the last thing she remembered being was really f-cking cold. Her eyelids stuck together as she slowly blinked open, the dim lighting of the hospital room slowly coming into focus. She tried to flex her fingers and found them stiff as ice (no pun intended). She saw the white bandage wrapped around her hands, purple bruises around her wrist and near the tips of her fingers. Jesus. She'd done some damage on that ice.
The fucking music. It was some oldie—70s, probably. It was playing softly from the corner, and she turned her stiff neck to see Peter slumped in a chair, staring down at his phone. What a loser. She cleared her throat to test her voice.
"If you're on TikTok right now, I'll fucking kill you."
Peter jumped at the sudden sound, his phone clattering to the ground. Y/N laughed, though it quickly turned into a wheezy cough. She sat up, a bandaged hand covering her mouth as she continued to choke. Peter rushed to her side, filling up a paper cup with the water pitcher on the bedside table. He handed it to her and she waited for the coughs to dissipate a bit before taking a gulp of the cold water. She sucked in a breath and found her ribs fighting back against the stretch. Everything was sore. Which, she reminded herself, was her own fault.
"Do you want me to call the doctor?" he asked, dragging the chair closer to sit beside her.
Y/N shook her head. "Nah. M'fine."
He gave her a look, and she clarified, "As fine as I can be."
Peter looked like he wanted to say something for a moment, but held it back. Y/N noticed a manila file on the other side of her and raised an eyebrow, reaching for it. Even leaning over caused her ribs to scream back in pain, but the snatched the folder anyway, flipping it open to see her own medical chart. "Hypothermia, boxer's fracture in both hands, ventricular fibrillation...Jesus. Okay, so I did some damage. My bad."
"What the fuck, Y/N?"
She looked up from her file. Peter had a look on his face she couldn't quite parse. Anger? Pity? Whatever it was, it was heightened by the fact that his under eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them. He stood up, pacing a bit. "Can you stop treating this like it's some fucking joke? You fell through the ice. I had to call Danvers and tell her you almost got yourself killed following some shit lead. You know what she said?"
Y/N stayed silent, fearing that whatever she said would make things worse.
"She asked me why the fuck I didn't stop you."
Y/N wanted to bite back, to yell that it wasn't his responsibility to tell her what to do and what not to do. But, she reminded herself, he probably knew that. It didn't matter. If Danvers said he should've stopped her, he should've stopped her. At least, that's probably how it went in his mind.
She said nothing. Eventually Peter shook his head, muttering something under his breath before going back on his phone. Y/N stared at her own hands, dragging her finger over a little spot of blood that had begun to peek through it. She tried to shift herself a bit and a pain shot through her ankle. She grimaced, hissing lightly at the sting. She pulled her blanket aside and looked down, her stomach twisting when she saw a purple bruise surrounding her right ankle. Almost like a hand.
"Geez. What, did you drag me out by my ankles?" she said to Peter.
"What?" he replied, not looking up, "no, I grabbed your hand."
"Then what the hell is that?"
She pointed, and Peter's eyes followed where she was indicating. "Maybe you kicked something," he offered, "you were trying to swim back up to the surface."
Y/N frowned, something nagging in the back of her mind. "No I wasn't."
"Yes, you did. I saw you."
"No, I was dragged."
Peter shook his head, as if trying to make the words coming out of her mouth form a logical sentence. "What?"
The memory came flooding back to Y/N. The moment just before she started punching at the ice. The face. "I saw her."
"Saw who?"
"Annie."
Peter stilled, his jaw loosening ever so slightly. He looked at Y/N, and for a moment he wondered if the hypothermia had gotten to her brain. "What?"
"Annie K. I saw her under the ice, so I tried to go down and get her."
"Y/N, Annie's-"
"She's fucking dead, I know," she snapped. "But I saw her, alright? I wouldn't start punching solid ice for nothing."
And now Peter was left in a conundrum. On the one hand, Y/N wouldn't lie about something like this. He trusted her that far at the very least. But what she was saying she saw...that went beyond reasonable explanation. He looked at her hands, remembering how they looked just after he pulled her out of the ice. Raw and bloody and bruised. He saw the way she was punching at that ice. It was desperate. No logical person would fuck up their hands like that for a lie. She was really reaching for something. For someone, if that's what she says.
There was still one issue: Danvers wouldn't hear it. They saw how far Trooper Navarro got when she tried to bring Annie's name into the equation. Zero tolerance. They couldn't expect any more grace from the chief.
"You don't have to believe me-"
"I do, Y/N. I do."
She was a little surprised at that. She'd expected Peter to tell her she was crazy. Nevertheless, she could take his belief and run with it. "Then help me," she said, her voice stern. "Follow this lead with me as far as it can go. We don't have to tell Danvers, and if it leads nowhere it leads nowhere. Just don't make me do it on my own."
Conundrum #2: Does he stay on the sidelines or jump through that ice with her?
Fuck it. It's gonna be cold either way.
"Fine."
Y/N's lips turned up into a small smile. Before she could respond, though, one of their co-workers, Lissy, popped her head in the door. "Hey, Prior. You're relieved of L/N duty."
Y/N sat up in bed, giving Peter a look. "L/N duty?"
He gave a sheepish shrug. "Would it help if I said I volunteered?"
"Get out of here. Smartass."
Danvers came eventually to swear at her and ask what the hell she'd been thinking. She gave Danvers the real, honest answer, which was that she wasn't. She'd probably take that better than a lie.
But eventually, of course, she had to.
"And what the hell made you start punchin' that ice?"
Y/N paused. "I thought I saw something, but it was—it wasn't—"
"Well, what?" Danvers snapped. "What was it? Wasn't it?"
"It was nothing, okay? It was a false lead."
That was hard to say, even if it wasn't true.
The highlight of the whole situation was that, at the very least, Y/N's circadian rhythm had gone back to somewhat normal. She looked over files until around eleven o'clock at night when she couldn't keep her eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. Trying to sleep was a battle for a moment, what with the sore everything and the hands that could barely grasp at the blankets to pull them up to her chin. But eventually exhaustion won out, and she fell asleep to the gentle hum of the hospital's heating system.
And though she never really had in her life, she dreamed.
She dreamed that she was back under the ice, the rocks beneath her feet, crystal clear water swallowing her hole. And there was Annie, beckoning her further and further out. She swam for her until her muscles burned. The further out Annie took her, the darker the water got, and the colder and colder she felt. It got so dark and so cold that she couldn't see Annie at all. It was only when she squinted that she could see her hands in front of her face, and she watched in horror as frost crept over her skin and nipped at her blood.
When Y/N jolted awake, it took her embarrassingly long to realize she was standing on the roof of the hospital. Her bare feet were buried in the snow, the tips of her toes hanging over the edge, five stories above Ennis. A yelp tore out of her mouth before she could stop it, her balance wavering for a single, terrifying moment.
She stepped down from the ledge as soon as she got her bearings, the wind blowing right through her hospital gown and stinging her skin. She stumbled back into the hospital, arms wrapped around herself as she tried to recover from the intense cold, all the while wondering how the hell she got up there.
There was seemingly only one answer: she brought me there.
Peter's kitchen table was littered with crime scene photos. Darwin toddled on the floor, playing with his stuffed elephant, while Peter brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Y/N was so focused that she didn’t notice as Darwin stood and reached his little hand up, grasping for the photos. His fingertips found purchase and he started to pull a particularly bloody photo off the table. Y/N snatched it out of his grasp just before he could be scarred for life and Darwin let out a little giggle.
“Close call, little man,” she said, “that would’ve taken a lot of therapy to unsee.”
Darwin stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck hers out back.
“Kayla should be on her way to come get him. She's trying to beat the storm,” Peter said, scooping Darwin up and carrying him safely away from the photos. They sat down between the couch and the fireplace, and Y/N, suddenly craving a break from the blood and gore, got up to go meet them.
"You guys doing okay?" she asked as she sat cross-legged beside Darwin. "You and Kayla?"
She could tell immediately that she hit a nerve. Peter's eyes darted away from Darwin instantly, his gaze instead setting on the fire. He didn't answer for a moment, and for a moment Y/N thought maybe he was acting like he didn't hear her. "We, uh...we separated."
Y/N frowned. "What?"
"Two months ago. Maybe two and a half."
He picked up the fire poker and stoked the flames—not because they needed to be, but because if he didn't have something to do with his hands he'd go crazy.
Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She remembered when her parents separated, but she was too little to do much about it. Too young to think about comforting them.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Peter just shook his head and shrugged like it was no big deal. "It was coming eventually. We just finally owned up to it."
"Still. It sucks."
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for a moment. Darwin handed the elephant over to Y/N to make way for his sudden interest in picking out the fuzzies in the carpet.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm becoming increasingly concerned that my ice plunge gave me walking pneumonia."
That didn't make it better, but it did get him to laugh.
They played with Darwin and generally avoided the topic of work until there was a knock at the door. A hush seemed to fall over them, reality setting back in. Peter got up, taking Darwin with him, and Y/N went back to the kitchen table. She made herself busy (or, at the very least, she made herself look busy) with files.
Peter opened the door with Darwin in one arm, Darwin's weekend backpack in the other. Kayla stood there on the other side. She grinned and cooed as she took Darwin, but the grin faded when it became clear that she had to interact with Peter.
Look at the files, Y/N. What's happening at the door is none of your business.
Ugh, but eavesdropping would be so fun.
"What's she doing here?" she heard Kayla say. Both she and Peter looked over to where Y/N was sitting.
Well, at least I don't have to eavesdrop.
Y/N looked up, raising an awkward hand in greeting. "Hi Kayla."
"Hi Y/N," Kayla replied. She wasn't cold, but it was clear that Y/N wasn't her favorite person in the world.
Peter said something about work, but Y/N couldn't decipher it. She went back to work, trying to block out the distant sounds of what seemed to be a heated conversation. Eventually the door closed (not slammed, luckily) and Y/N looked up. Peter stared at the wooden door for a few seconds after it had closed, like he thought it might open again. Y/N rushed to look away as he finally turned and headed in her direction. She tried not to shift as he took a seat on the side of the table closest to her, taking his own stack of files and beginning to sort through them.
After a moment, she spoke. "Aaaaare we gonna talk about that?"
"No we are not."
"Got it, got it."
They studied crime scenes. They looked at the facts. They asked a lot of wrong questions and maybe a few right ones. They got so deep into the case of the Tsalal men that they didn't realize when the clock struck three in the morning just as Peter was about to brew a new pot of coffee.
"Huh," was all Y/N could manage to say when she saw the time.
"Huh," Peter agreed.
She looked outside, which at this time of night was a greyish blur of falling snow moving at too many miles per hour. This was the type of storm Y/N's mother told her to watch out for. People who drove out in these either ended up wrecked or freezing to death before they made it home. "Mind if I stay the night?"
Peter nodded. "'Course."
Ten minutes later, Y/N was curled on the couch with a down comforter draped over her to block out the chill (with the help of three layers of clothes and another blanket on top). The lights were out and all she could hear was the sound of whistling wind as she drifted off to sleep.
And for the second time in years, she dreamed.
She was back under that water, cold seeping into her bones. She saw the surface just a few feet above her head, close enough to touch. She reached up, but before her frozen fingers could make contact with the frozen sheet of ice she could use to pull herself up, a hand seized her ankle and dragged her down. She screamed, but only bubbles escaped her mouth, the sound absorbed by the freezing waters that enveloped her. She rushed to suck in a breath and the water flooded in to meet her screaming lungs.
She was dying.
She looked down at the one who was dragging her, and saw someone she knew to be dead.
"Y/N..."
"Annie?" Y/N said. More bubbles. Annie just looked at her, and somehow she knew: Death was coming.
"Y/N!"
Peter's hand landed roughly on her shoulder, enough to shake her out of the dream and make her realize that she was standing outside in the swirling snow, which was getting worse by the second. She turned, and their faces were so close that their matching frozen, red noses were inches away from touching.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Y/N made no reply, trekking back towards the house as quickly as her bare feet could take her. Annie’s eyes were still flashing across her mind every few seconds, as if trying to come back to the surface and consume her again. She wouldn’t let that happen.
As soon as the door shut behind her, the wind howling and doing its best to pry it back open again, she collapsed against it, trying to stave off cold and paranoid visions. She vaguely heard Peter mutter No, come here, as he pulled her up from the floor and guided her to the fireplace, which he promptly lit. He draped a blanket around her, then two, then three. She must’ve looked like a floating head with all the fabric covering her from the shoulders down as she curled on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest. He sat down beside her after he was satisfied she had enough to warm her up. She was shivering slightly, but the horrified look in her eyes made him wonder if that was totally from the cold. He didn’t ask. He sat, staring straight at the fire with her. That was all he could do.
“It was Annie,” Y/N said finally, her voice hoarse. “She took me out there.”
Peter didn’t respond—he was sure the explanation she would give, if she gave any, would go entirely over his head.
Y/N swallowed hard before continuing. “She’s involved in all this. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. But something about Annie is still alive. Because what happened to her? That’s what happens when men get angry. But when women get angry? You end up out in the snow in the middle of the night with no idea how you got there.”
Silence.
“She’s angry. We just have to figure out why.”
Peter looked at her, color starting to bloom in her previously purple lips. She stared intently ahead as she talked, almost as if she were in a trance. When Peter reached out and took a lock of her hair gently between his fingers, she didn’t flinch. She glanced over at him, her eyes illuminated by the fire he’d set.
“Your hair froze,” was his only explanation.
Y/N looked down and saw that he was right. Little ice crystals had formed in patches of her hair. She wondered how long she’d been out there in the cold.
She wasn’t sure who leaned in first, or when the images of Annie disappeared from her mind, but in an instant Peter’s lips were on hers, and all visions of Annie floated away, replaced only by the feeling of his lips and hands.
It was only a moment before he pulled away, his eyes shut in a way that suggested he fucked up. For the second time in a week she’d nearly found herself in a life-threatening situation, and here he was playing with her hair and kissing her like a besotted middle schooler. She would be mad—she had to be.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
“Don’t be,” Y/N said, pulling him back to her and kissing him again.
That was all the okay Peter needed. He pulled her to him again, this time a bit rougher, but still careful not to accidentally push any blankets off her. It was Y/N who eventually shed them, pulling him onto the couch with her. It was still too cold inside for either of them to remove any more layers they already had on (which they both found extremely unfortunate), but that didn’t stop Y/N from crawling atop him and straddling his waist to better kiss him.
After what felt like hours (but was probably only twenty minutes), they wound up that way, with Y/N laying her head on Peter’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her to hold him to her. Her heart rate was just starting to slow down when Peter spoke.
“You know I’ll help you see this through, right?”
Y/N looked up at him. “Yeah.”
He ran a soft hand through her hair and she laid back down.
“This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, probably.”
But, funnily enough, neither of them cared.
THIS IS SAUR CUTE OH MY GOD.
you never miss 💗
hi again! so sorry my last request didn't work out ― but i do happen to have another :)
maybe a rivals to lovers with jim halpert? very sarcastic rivals, of course lol. thank you so much! and congrats again <3
𝐣𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥.



pairings ; jim halpert x gn!reader
warnings ; collegues, rivals to lovers, sarcasm and teasing the whole way through, make out part - not sexual.
word count ; 814
additional notes ; loved this idea, thank you my love!

“can we move onto the topic of phyllis losing five of her clients this past year? considering it’s phyllis, that leaves her with little to no clients left,” jim looked up from his yogurt at dwight’s words. lunchtime in the office was never boring despite the eye-scraping job it was.
oscar and pam’s prior conversation about the new release of meryl streep’s ‘the devil wear’s prada’ is cut short as the whole room tunes in. glancing at phyllis, jim notices her dejected slump of shoulders before she replies, “that’s not fair dwight, there’s a reason i’ve told michael why that happened.”
the group watch them like a tennis match, heads swinging back and forth as dwight knowingly jabs another response, “is it because your incompetent?” with a beat, dwight glances amongst the row of tables – prideful in his quick wit as he continues, “because you’re incompetent phyllis.”
jim perks up in his seat, desperate to derive the conversation before phyllis gets bob vance and causes dwight to threaten violence with his office-hidden samarai sword ( that he always assures he’s a professional at handling ), “speaking of loss of clients…”
you look up from your lunch and to jim who sits beside you, groaning knowingy while the office atmosphere changes from tension to more playful. he smirks at you, “y/n and i had a competition of new clients, and guess who won?” he leans back in his seat proudly.
“only because you offered them much more than you needed to, where’s the profit, halpert?” you quip back, both of you unaware of the exchanged glances from everyone but dwight around the room who just fills his expression with disgust.
“you were hardly offering them anything, i wouldn’t have joined if i was a client myself if you were the one pitching to me,” you gasp with a choked laugh at his words – while dwights one-liners were incredibly offensive and sad-inducing aimed towards phyllis, both of you knew the words between each other were less hurtful and more teasing.
totally not flirting.
“you two make me sick, why don’t you go into the printer room and make out so you can get it over with and we don’t have to watch this insufferable tension?” you both turn to dwight as he stands, jim’s cheeks turning a shade pinker while your jaw hits the ground, “us? make out?”
“don’t pretend, jim,” dwight states, adjusting the belt on his trousers before trudging out of the office, leaving silence behind while you are both unsure what to do.
both of you laugh, nervously more than anything, and only convincing each other of the denial of something being there while everyone nods knowingly, the pining going on for far too long and the bets ongoing as they waited on the ‘we’re together’ statement.
you found yourself in that very printer room later on, a large sum of papers to print in the queue while you press a load of buttons upon a printer in hopes it works without needing to call pam over.
the door clicks and your head snaps round to the tall, scruffy-haired man who lips press into a thin-line smile, which you return before awkwardly turning back to the whirring machine. jim walks to another printer, the one directly beside yours and you pretend you can’t see the continuous glances.
“so that was crazy, right?” jim starts before letting out a nervous huff. “what?” you faux, pretending you’re too immersed in the printing world to care – but your head is dizzy with the prior statements your colleague made. you weren’t sure how much longer you could deny your attraction for jim.
“what dwight said. about us?” you force a laugh out in response, agreeing with his statement but pretending the ache in your heart is apparent and pushing against your chest. “well, do you want to just forget about it?”
you didn’t, but asking the question meant it looked like you did. you could both move onto your normal selves – making teasing and totally not flirtatious quips to each other and hidden tension.
he doesn’t answer, the only sound is the buttons beeping with each press of your fingertip, “jim?” you ask again into the quiet cramped room. again, no reply. you furrow your eyebrows, turning your head to check on him but he’s facing you, eyes which fall on your eyes quickly change to your lips.
before you knew it, your fingers were pulling the strands of hair at the nape of his neck while jim had you pressed against the printer, leaving tingling traces against your lips each kiss. he doesn’t stop, and you don’t want him to – pressing closer to him and allowing him to lean down so his arms can wrap around your back, kisses moving to your neck affectionately.
“i’ll take that as a no.”
you can’t believe dwight was right.

my masterlist . my taglist . my 100 follower celebration
© mangchai 2023 ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.
babe your theme is so mesmerizing <333
aw thank you so much love <3 and YOUR theme is absolutely stunning. i found your account last night and just could not stop scrolling. your account is amazing 💌
cheers to us being mutuals!! 🥂
@kolsmikaelson : headcanons for peeta mellark comforting the reader after a bad day (300 followers celebration)
hiiiii........so this took me twenty-eight million years to write.....pls ignore that.
i'm so sorry, after spring break i had to hit the ground RUNNING with directing my one act and finals, so thank you to all my followers for being so incredibly patient with me. i really am doing my best but just...bleh. i have gotten through 12 hours of graduation practice this week and i have three more tomorrow!!!!!! as well as starting a new job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
but i DO feel that i am doing this at a good time with the fnaf teaser dropping and the josh hutchinson renaissance being upon us :)
i love you caitee. and i deeply apologize for the fact that this took me millenia to write. i hope you still enjoy it ♥

peeta comforting the reader after a long day



We all know Peeta...he is the Softest Boy literally ever
He's also such an empath. Suuuuuuuuch an empath.
And thus I believe firmly that when you've had a bad day, he knows immediately. The second you walk through the door, he can sense that something is wrong.
He will stop whatever he is doing (he's actually accidentally let things burn in the oven before) to come over to you and ask what's going on
And if you're not really in the talking mood, he's good with that too
He won't prod, he won't press for details, he'll only ask what he can do to help
If you want time to yourself he'll 100% respect that. He'll leave you be and go back to whatever he was doing before you got home, probably making dinner or doing some other odd chore here and there. When it's time for dinner he'll bring it to you and you'll eat together in bed if you're up for it
If you want company he's totally up for that. Even if you don't want to talk, he'll sit with you, hold your hand, run fingers through your hair, let you cry if you need to. Every once in a while he'll check-in and ask if you feel up to talking.
If you want to talk, Peeta is a great listener. He will let you rant and vent as looooooong as you need to. He won't interrupt until you're done and he'll hold your hand the entire time.
If you want advice, I have a feeling that he's not the greatest at that sometimes? I feel like sometimes he mentally lives in a world that's very optimistic and sunshine-y, so sometimes he thinks problems can be solved wayyyy easier than they actually can be. But his overall message is that he is there for you 100% and he will be there to support you through whatever.
At the end of the day, he just wants to do whatever he can do to make your awful day a little bit better :)
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."
Perhaps a ‘Regret Me’ blurb with Graham Dunne + the song Sex or Robbers by The 1975 😭 🙏
If not no worries at all!
Thx!
So I love this with all my heart?? I saw The 1975 in concert in November and cried my little eyes out, so this is just the epitome of some of my favorite things ever. I would do Robbers, but I simply cannot imagine Graham Dunne committing crimes, so Sex it is! (Yes, I'm aware that that last bit out of context sounds extremely odd. I also do not care.)
tw: slightly sexual content, but nothing graphic at all



Neither of you were quite sure how it started.
One moment you two were in the back of the van, waiting for the others to get back from the venue so you could head back home. You were in the process of sliding off your knee-high boots, which you had regretted wearing halfway through the set when you realized you couldn't feel the bottoms of your feet.
Graham sat beside you, twirling one of Warren's drum sticks between his fingers. He glanced over at you as you threw your boots across the back of the van, slumping down.
Only a few hours ago you had been in the small music hall performing a set. Your boyfriend had been in the front row, beaming at you throughout the entire thing. At least until he saw how you acted around Graham.
As the two guitarists (lead & rhythm) you were bound to have some interaction during the show. He just didn't think that meant the whole show. Anytime you and Graham played at the same time you would stand close to each other, sometimes with you laying your head on his shoulder. One time your faces got so close that your boyfriend wasn't entirely sure that you two hadn't kissed.
So when you bounced backstage to meet him, you weren't entirely surprised at the hardened look he had on his face. The two of you had ended up in a screaming match, heard in part by the entire band as they loaded everything up to get on the road.
Eventually you left, slamming the door to the venue behind you as you crawled into the van, where Graham was already helping pull stuff inside. You mumbled angrily under your breath as you unzipped your boots, throwing them.
You felt Graham's eyes on you and you looked back. He immediately looked away, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes. "Graham," you said, voice low and quiet.
He looked back over. "Yeah?"
And then you pulled him to you by the collar and kissed him hard. Graham, entirely caught off guard, found himself staring at your blurry eyebrows for a moment before he really realized what was going on. And when he did, his eyes fluttered shut, kissing you back.
Your fingers crept to his belt, toying with the hem of his jeans. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and that was when you pulled away, a devilish grin on your face. Now Graham had a very obvious hard-on, which only made you grin a little wider.
"Think you can wait until we get back to the house?" you asked in a low whisper. Graham just nodded, eyes wide and surprised. You pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips and sat back, moving to help Billy haul the last of the guitars into the van.
And as Graham sat there, trying to comprehend what the fuck had just happened, all he could think of was one, single, repeating thought: She's got a boyfriend, anyway...
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
I love love love your account so much your an amazing writer keep up the good work💙
AW THANK YOU SO MUCH <3 I have gotten so behind on my asks, some even left over from my last follower celebration, but I will be getting on those. Thank you for the kind message <3
THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART FOUR: aurora



PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: HIIIIIIII HI HI HI HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE FOURTH AND FINAL INSTALLMENT OF THE CHAIN! I'm so sorry this took me ten million years to write, it was really hard both time-wise and emotionally, as you'll see later...but HERE IT IS!!!!! This little story has gotten so much love since I posted the first part and it is absolutely insane. I'm almost at 800 followers now, compared to the 300-and-something I had before. It is absolutely crazy how this little plot bunny turned into something that you all really love. I'm glad that this story has brought you guys joy, and I hope I can do that one last time. So, here you go! Part four of The Chain!
WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

AURORA (1977-1978)
EDDIE: It started with little things, you know? The drip before the dam breaks. She would have these moments of...of absentmindedness. She'd say "I think I'm going to wear the red sweater at tonight's gig." And I'd say, "I love that one." And she'd say. "Me too." And then she'd pause, and go back to whatever the hell she was doing ― strumming on the guitar, packing for tour ― and all of a sudden she'd say, "Oh, Ed, I'm going to wear the red sweater at the show tonight." I thought maybe she was telling a joke, but she'd look up at me, waiting for a response. So I'd say, "Baby, you just told me that." And she'd say, "I did?" And I'd say, "You did." And then she'd pause again, thinking. And then she'd shrug and just say, "Oh." Oh. Like it didn't even matter that she'd just said the same thing twice and forgotten she'd even said it in the first place. I don't blame her for it. I mean, she was like the opposite of a hypochondriac. She could stitch you up when you got hurt, but she thought she was indestructible. It was all I could do to get her to see that everyone has a breaking point. Everyone has that point that they can't come back from. And I didn't know it then, but she'd already crossed it.
KAREN: The first time it happened ― the first time we really started to realize that something was up ― was during a rehearsal. I think...I think we might've been recording, actually.
Aurora was coming along better than any of them thought it was. The songs were recorded in six days. The band was in the middle of the fourth day, mid-recording of "Kill You To Try," when the drums came to a sudden halt at the song's peak.
And Billy, whose only goal was getting the album recorded so that he and Teddy could take over on the mixing, was on the verge of losing his mind.
It took him a moment to realize the drums had faded away until they were completely gone. The rhythmic guitar faded next, next the bass, and then Billy caught up, his voice breaking off and his headphones pulled away from his ears.
He turned around, an angry knot forming between his brows. "Y/n?" he said impatiently. When there was no answer, he said it again. "Y/n."
She was staring straight forward, arms fallen limp to her sides, a blank look on her face. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, more half-blinks than full stops.
Karen, who was closest to her at the keyboard, walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, are you all right?"
And then it stopped. Y/n blinked one last time and her eyes went still. She looked around at all of them, a crease forming between her brows. "What?" she asked, looking back at their stares. "What did I do?"
DAISY: We just...we didn't know what to say.
"You zoned out, dude." Warren replied.
"I did?" she asked. There were nods. "Oh. Sorry."
They went back to recording then, mostly at Billy's insistence, but Eddie couldn't help watching Y/n through the corner of his eye for the rest of the day. She seemed fine enough for the most part, but he couldn't get rid of the sneaking suspicion that something was very, very wrong.

"Okay...okay. Mom, go, I don't need Dr. Medina getting mad at me. I'll call you in the morning. I hope the surgery goes well. Be the best damn nurse the world has ever seen. Okay, bye. Love you."
Y/n hung up the phone and jumped over the top of the couch, lying down and laying her head in Eddie's lap. Everyone else had left the house in Laurel Canyon by now, making them its only two residents. It was quieter than it was before, sometimes unsettlingly so, but they liked it. With the band becoming more and more chaotic, they both needed the quiet. Plus, they could make out in the kitchen without worrying about anyone walking in on them. That was a definite plus.
Eddie stared off into space for a moment, absentmindedly running a hand through Y/n's hair. "You ever think about getting married?"
Y/n sat up, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Getting married. Out of the blue. Just like Camila and Billy."
Y/n stuttered, "Camila and Billy have been together since, like, the beginning of time. We've only been together for...we can't..."
She trailed off, and Eddie's face fell. He covered it up with a shrug. "No, it's fine."
"Eddie, hey."
"No, no it's fine, I get it," he said, getting up from the couch. Yes, it was a risky thing to say. And he hadn't exactly known what to expect, but it definitely wasn't that.
Y/n got up to gently grab his wrist, stopping him in place. "Eddie, Eddie," she said gently as he reluctantly turned. He looked somewhat dejected ― it hurt her to see, so she put on her sweetest smile as she laced her fingers behind his neck. "Camila and Billy got married at three in the morning because she got knocked up. That's not me. That's not us."
He said nothing, but his features softened just the slightest bit.
"It can't be out of the blue, okay? Call me old fashioned, but I want the planning. The pretty cathedral, the stupid vows, the white dress...I want it all. And being in a rock band doesn't really coincide with that, yeah?"
Eddie just rolled his eyes at that, but there was a slight grin on his face as he did so. "Come here," she muttered, pulling him closer and hugging him tightly. He held her back, his chin resting atop her head like she'd fly away if he didn't try hard enough.
"Give me some time. We have a world tour coming up, but after that..." she trailed off with a smile. "That sound okay?"
"Yes ma'am," Eddie responded with a shit-eating grin. Now it was Y/n's turn to roll her eyes and push him away, smiling.
"Why are you in such a rush to get tied down? Aren't rockstars pretty flighty people?"
"I'll let you know you when I see one," Eddie said, and pulled her in to kiss her.

Billy and Daisy were nowhere to be seen. Daisy Jones & The Six's World Tour of Aurora was set to begin in less than a month, and their main attraction was missing from rehearsal. The rest of the band sat around like sitting ducks, fiddling with their instruments like they had no purpose. Well, right then, it was like they didn't. Without Billy or Daisy...practice almost wasn't worth it.
And eventually, Eddie had had it. "Okay," he said, standing up, "this is bullshit. Just because Billy and Daisy aren't here, we have to sit with our thumbs up our asses?"
Warren paused. "Yeah, basically."
Eddie shook his head, giving a bitter laugh. "Yeah, fuck that. Up."
He slung his guitar over his shoulder as they all reluctantly got up, groaning in exasperation. Y/n took her seat behind the drums, Karen got behind the keys, and Warren picked up his guitar. And Eddie headed for the mic, causing a few confused glances between the other band members.
"Hey, Ed?" Y/n called. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing? We're going to rehearse."
"Yeah, but...you're not going to sing, are you?" Graham said.
Y/n threw a drumstick at him. "Dude."
Warren and Karen held back laughter. Eddie looked around the room, eyebrows raised. "Fine. Anyone else want to volunteer?" he asked. "Please, someone else take over."
No one moved to take his place. Eddie nodded. "That's what I thought. Okay, let's start with Regret Me."
"You're going to sing Daisy's part?" Y/n said, eyebrows raised.
"Nope," Eddie responded. "You are."
Y/n froze. For a moment she thought that might've been a joke.
KAREN: She looked like a deer in headlights. I knew Eddie wouldn't ask me, probably because he was still a little scared of me. But Y/n always hated being front and center. She looked like she was going to be sick.
Eddie beckoned her forward. She looked at the others for help, but all she got in return was wide-eyed looks and desperate shrugs. She looked back at Eddie. "N-No! I-I have to do the drums!"
"Teddy can play the drums. Right, Teddy?"
Caught off-guard, Teddy pressed the speaker button. "Um, sure?"
As Teddy came from the booth into the studio, Eddie walked over to where Y/n sat behind the drums. She had shrunk down as if to hide herself. She stared up at Eddie as though he were about to lead her to the slaughter. "What the fuck are you doing?" she said in a harsh whisper. "I'll kill you, you know. The second we get home, I'm taking the bat and crushing your fucking kneecaps."
Eddie just laughed as he took her hand to guide her to the mic with him. "I know you can do this," he muttered, quiet enough so that only she could hear, "I've heard you sing it."
"In the shower."
"Still counts."
She resisted the urge to slap him right then, looking around at the rest of the band. "If any one of you ever bring this up ever again―"
"Yeah, yeah, save the death threats," Warren said. "Can we all just shut up and rehearse?"
"Oh, now you have a sense of urgency." Y/n muttered.
After one final look around, Graham counted them in, and the song began. And Y/n who had no instrument to play, only stood a solid foot away from the mic, her heart beating so quickly that she could feel it in her skull. Eddie gently took her hand to pull her closer. When he opened his mouth to sing, hers stayed shut.
"You regret me and I regret you," he sang alone. "Except I don't care what you're feeling and I don't need your reprove."
He squeezed her hand, trying to encourage her with only his eyes. And then, quietly, she joined in on the next line.
"I'm a slippage in the system with a natural gift, how I move," he found himself starting to sing through a smile, "So go ahead and regret me but I'm beating you to it, dude."
The chorus was approaching, making Y/n feeling more and more like she was going to throw up. The logical part of her knew that she wouldn't burst into flame if her voice cracked. But the other part? The other part of her wanted to punch Eddie in the face for ever bringing her within a five foot radius of this mic.
"You regret me and I regret you!"
WARREN: They had that chemistry that Billy and Daisy had, but it felt more…lived in. Daisy and Billy were like two pieces of flint that you’d knock together. Sparks would fly and hey, maybe something would catch on fire. Eddie and Y/n were like a bonfire. Controlled. And, if you stood a good enough distance away, you could see how nice it was. It wasn’t as exciting, but it sure was good enough to take the place of the real thing.
She gained confidence the more that she sang. Whether it was the fact that her voice held on or the fact that she got to stand so close to Eddie, she didn't know, but she felt okay.
"Go ahead and regret me, but I'm beating you to it, dude." Y/n finished the song with a smile at Eddie, her face flushed. It took her a moment to realize that the room around her was silent.
Her smile fell. "What?"
"Nothing," Graham said. "That was great. Um...what about Honeycomb?"
Everyone nodded in agreement, going back to their instrument. Eddie pulled Y/n to his side, pressing a kiss to her head. "Told ya."
She suppressed a smile. "Shut up."

EDDIE: The lead up to the tour, I think. That was when things got really weird. She was tired all the time, no matter how much sleep she got. I mean, yeah, we were recording an album and getting ready for a world tour, but it wasn't like normal. We'd come home and she'd go straight to be, sleep until the morning, wake up, and an hour later she'd be yawning again. For a while I thought she might've just been tired of me [laughs].
"Y/n, come on. Time to get up," Eddie said quietly, crouching beside their bed to be at her eye level. Her eyes blinked open reluctantly and she groaned, rolling over.
"My head is killing me."
"I'll get you some Advil."
"No, no, I got it," she said, and then proceeded to lay in bed, eyes shut, curled under the blankets.
After a few moments, Eddie spoke. "Y/n?"
"Five more minutes."
He laughed quietly. "Come here," he said, sliding one arm under her back and one under her legs, scooping her up into his arms.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders gratefully, burying her head in his neck. "Wow, you're so strong," she said with a little giggle.
"Yeah, yeah. I can still throw you down the stairs."
"Ooh, I'm counting on it."
They went to rehearsal―where, luckily, Daisy and Billy were already located―and got to work. Eddie kept an eye on Y/n out of the corner of his eye. Her headache had worsened on the drive there despite her taking more pain pills than was probably necessary. She played just fine, but she cringed ever so often at the punctuated hit of a hi-hat. He thought about taking her off the drums for a bit and putting Teddy in her place, but she'd just get angry at him.
In the middle of Let Me Down Easy, the drums stopped suddenly, drum sticks clattering to the floor. Everyone looked up to see Y/n sprinting out of the room, a hand clamped over her mouth. Eddie froze. Karen was the first to move, running after her to make sure she was all right.
They all stood in silence for a minute or two, unsure of how to proceed. Karen came back, running a hand through her hair. "She just got sick. She's fine now, but I think we should give her a minute."
"What, does she have the flu or something?" Graham asked.
"Maybe she's pregnant," Camila suggested. Everyone turned to look at her at once. She blinked. "What?"
Eddie left the room then, feeling like he was about to be sick himself. The bathroom door was ajar when he got there. Y/n was sitting on the floor when he walked in, knees tucked to her chest, her head propped up by one palm.
"Hi," she croaked.
"Hi. You okay?" he asked, sitting beside her.
"Fucking fabulous," she replied with a slight grin.
He smiled and kissed her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. "D'you think that maybe it's time you see a doctor? I mean, the headache, you're tired all the time, and now this?"
"No, no," she waved her hand to brush that away. "I get like this sometimes. It's like allergies. It's whatever. I'll ask my mom on the phone later. She's never failed me."
Eddie nodded, going silent for a moment. "Are you maybe...do you think you might be pregnant?"
"No, I'm―" Y/n began, then cut herself off. She paused for a moment, thinking. Then she turned back to Eddie, eyes wide. "Um."
Cut to the two of them in the bathroom at midnight, Eddie pacing and Y/n staring at a little pregnancy test on the counter. It had taken them nearly half a dozen drug stores to find a regular pregnancy test, not to mention the fact that they grew more and more panicked with every second that passed.
"What if―"
"Nope, no," Eddie cut her off, "We are not playing the What If game right now. Whatever happens happens, and we'll deal with it."
Y/n nodded, pursing her lips. "But, what if―"
"Y/n, no."
After a few minutes of anxious silence, Y/n exclaimed. "Look, I see a line!"
Eddie quit his pacing to rush to her side, looking down at the test. "What does that mean?"
"Two lines means I'm pregnant."
"There's only one."
"I know that, Eddie."
"Well, what does that mean?"
And then they were scrambling for the box, looking for the instructions they worried they might've accidentally tossed out. Once the box assured them that one line meant Y/n was definitely not pregnant, they both let out a sigh of relief, Y/n slumping over the counter in exhausted victory. "I feel like we should take several rounds of shots right now."
Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thank God, I was about to call Karen's priest."
She laughed, feeling giddy.
"Would it have been the worst thing In the world, though?" he asked.
Y/n turned her head to look up at him. "Sweetheart, we're about to leave for a world tour. The timing isn't exactly ideal," she paused. "But no, it wouldn't have been the worst thing ever. I mean, I would have a lot to explain to my extremely Catholic grandparents, but no, I wouldn't be entirely devastated."
Eddie couldn't stop a smile that spread out of her sight. "First you want to marry me and now you want to have my children? God, are you obsessed with me or something?"
She gasped in mock offense, tearing herself from her grip and glaring at him. "You precocious son of a bitch."
"Careful, you might accidentally turn me on."
She narrowed her eyes, staring at him for a moment. Then, quick as a flash, she turned and ran to the bedroom. Eddie chased after her, their screams of laughter floating up through the ceiling as he slammed the door behind them.

AURORA WORLD TOUR (1978-1979)
WARREN: Tour life was crazy, man. It always had been, but that one was insane. Daisy and Billy had it out in Rolling Stone, and everyone wanted to see their little shitshow. I'm not saying that their blowup was what rocketed us to the top...but it fuckin' was. Drama, man. The people eat it up.
Daisy Jones & The Six was the shit. Everywhere they went, massive crowds followed. Record sales were at an all-time high. Everyone knew the band. They were on top of the world.
Eddie thought every day about taking a knee and proposing to Y/n. In the middle of a show, even. He'd do it in the dead of night. They never tired of each other, no matter how long they were together. They were attached at the hip until they were forced away, which, now that they were on tour together, wasn't often.
They had made a routine. Wake up, rehearse with the band for a couple hours, and then go walk around whatever city they were in. Then they'd play the show, go to a party, and go back to their hotel room. They clung to each other through all of it. Eddie wasn't quite sure what the terms of common law marriage were, but he was sure that they would meet all of them. But he'd wait until the tour was over, just like she said. And then he'd marry her. That much he knew.
When they got to Chicago around early July, it was set to be their biggest show of the tour.
KAREN: Tensions were high. I don't think the two of them noticed, or they were too in love to care.
They stood backstage, the sounds of the crowd growing louder and louder as more people arrived.
Camila turned to wish her good luck with a smile, but it quickly faded. "Oh, honey, your nose."
Y/n frowned, then felt a drip. She swiped her thumb underneath her nose and it came away slick with blood. "Oh," she muttered, "oops."
"Are you alright?" she asked in a very mom-way.
"Yeah, feeling okay," Y/n nodded. "Goodnight, Julia."
Camila rocked her daughter, "Say bye-bye, Julia."
Julia lifted a hand and made a grabby motion in farewell. Y/n giggled and did the same back, still holding her nose. "Bye, Squishy," she said, poking one of Julia's little dimples. The girl giggled and clung to her mom, disappearing out of sight.
She staunched the blood as best she could once she found tissues, stashing bloody tissues in her bag rather than the trash can so as not to worry anyone. She swiped on some glitter anywhere that would catch the light. Eddie came in as she was tying her hair up. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder.
The moment her eyes closed, she got this feeling like she wanted nothing more than to let them stay closed, to drift away into sleep right there. She was tired. There were thousands of screaming people out there waiting for her, and all she could think about was getting to sleep as soon as possible.
"Maybe this tour is it," she muttered into Eddie's shoulder.
"What?"
She paused, trying to form a thought into words. "After this. I don't know if I can do it again."
They pulled apart and Y/n saw a crease between Eddie's brows. "What makes you say that?"
Before she got a moment to figure out what exactly made her come to that conclusion, she was being pulled forward onto the stage by Warren. The crowd came to a deafening roar as they appeared, and Y/n waved and smiled like she had done a hundred times, taking her place behind the drums.
They all picked up their instruments, and then Billy turned and gave Y/n the nod. The first drum hit of 'Aurora' rang out, and the show began.
EDDIE: The show was great. We all played great, the crowd was great, it was all...[pauses] it was great.
The set was coming to a close. They had played through nearly the entirety of the album, throwing in some older songs of theirs. But the crowd had ceaselessly been chanting for one song in particular, one that had purposely been left off the setlist for the entirety of the tour: Look At Us Now.
Everyone looked around at each other, then at Billy. He glanced back at them as if asking permission. They each gave a nod, and Daisy turned back to the mic. "Who wants to hear Honeycomb?"
The screams of the crowd that followed were enough to answer that question. Billy looked back at all of them again. "You know what to do."
Billy picked up an acoustic guitar from the side of the stage and came back. He tapped his foot a couple times to set the pace, and then he began to play.
The crowd sang every word with them, for them at times. And Y/n selfishly thought she had the best seat in the house. From the back of the stage, she could see it all. The crowd, the band, and everything in between. How could she let this go? This tour couldn't be the end of it all. She decided right then that she wouldn't let it. Not when there were views like this in the world and she was one of the few that got to see it.
And in an instant, it all went haywire.
Daisy and Billy were so caught up in the song for a moment that they both failed to notice as the drums grew more and more muddled until they stopped all together. Drum sticks clattered to the ground, heads snapping in their direction. Thousands of eyes saw as Y/n slumped out of her seat, collapsing on the ground beside the drums.
Instruments were dropped haphazardly as everyone on that stage stopped what they were doing to rush to the drum set. Rod left his spot in the wings to see for himself as Y/n laid stiff on the ground, seizing.
What followed was a rush of colors and light, of ambulances and ceilings, none of which she could really see or understand. But Eddie could. Eddie saw and understood all of it. And that, possibly, was the worst part.

Y/n woke up not long after, feeling as though she had just woken up from restless sleep. She asked quick questions, which were answered in short, quick words by Billy and Camila. Who she really wanted to speak to was Eddie, but he was laser focused on whatever needed to happen next. All he could do was hold her hand and squeeze back.
By the time she was in her hospital bed, she was convinced that she was perfectly fine. The part she was most upset about was ending the concert early―which, she assured them, would not happen again.
"After I get treated for whatever this is, I can come back, right? Rod?"
"Calm down, kid. You just had a seizure. Give yourself some time to be overdramatic before you get back on the road," he said with a slight chuckle.
"Miss L/n, have you ever had a history of epileptic seizures?" the nurse in the room asked. Y/n shook her head, and the nurse gave a nod. "I'll be right back with the doctor."
She left, and Warren suddenly gave a shiver. "Fucking hate hospitals."
Y/n shrugged. "I basically grew up in one."
"Ah, so that's why you're...you."
Several people had to dodge as Y/n hurled a pillow at him. Then, realizing it was the only one she had, she pouted. "Give it back."
"Oh, this pillow? The one you threw at me?" Warren said, being annoying as usual. "No way, sister. This is my property now. Bequeathed to me by your sorry arm muscles."
"I'll beat you up as soon as I get out of this bed."
"Sure you will, honey."
The door to her room opened and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, older, and graying a bit at the ends. "Hi there," he greeted. "I'm Doctor Lawrence."
Y/n waved, and he suddenly seemed to realize how many people were in the room. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid only family are allowed in here," he said.
Y/n immediately grabbed Eddie by the wrist. "He's my husband!" she said. Everyone quieted. "And they're my brothers," she looked at Billy and Graham, "sister-in-laws," she glanced over at Camila and Karen, "he's my cousin," she nodded to Warren, "and he's my weird uncle," she said, looking at Rod. Then she looked back at the doctor. "They're my family."
The doctor didn't believe a word she'd said. But after a moment of silence, he nodded to the group. "You can stay."
Y/n sighed in relief, lacing her fingers with Eddie's. If anything were to happen that night, she'd rather have him by her side.
Doctor Lawrence asked her a couple menial questions, then rambled a bit about what exactly seizures are (which, of course, she already knew) and suggested a CT scan to better understand what was going on. She agreed.
The next few hours were rather boring. Silences were punctuated with pain, as Y/n grew to realize how stiff her neck was. Her arms and legs were sore, but that, she assumed, was from the seizure.
"It's too bright in here," she commented when she was returned to her room. "Can I turn the lights down a little?"
People milled about. Camila had to go to be with Julia and the twins. Graham and Karen got coffee. Warren and Rod sat around her hospital room, competing to see who had the crazier stories (the winner, of course, was Rod). Eddie sat beside Y/n on the hospital bed the entire time, talking to her as she came in and out of consciousness
One of the times her eyes blinked open, she frowned, looking around in confusion. "Where the hell am I?"
Eddie paused. "You're in the hospital, Y/n."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"You...you had a seizure."
"Oh," she said. He felt her flex her fingers in his. "My hands feel weird. I can't feel your hand."
Eddie began to panic. She was treating every new horrible thing as though it were a new science fact she had just learned. "Y/n, what―"
Doctor Lawrence returned then, Karen and Graham trailing behind him. Billy returned not soon after. The only one not pale and freaked out was Y/n, who seemed content braiding small strands of her hair.
"The CT scan came back. She has a severe case of encephalitis."
Everyone looked around, most of them either hearing that word for the first time or not knowing what it is. Y/n did. "How? Meningitis?"
"Hard to say. It probably started out as a virus, something that triggered a strong autoimmune response."
"Can I take an antiviral to treat it?"
"Sorry, can someone explain what the fuck you're saying?" Warren finally asked.
Y/n sighed, letting go of her third braid. "My brain is inflamed, and it's swelling. It's pressing on my brain stem and it caused the seizure."
"That sounds...bad?" Graham said.
"Yeah, but it can be treated," Y/n said with a shrug. "I'll need to take antivirals for a bit, right?"
The doctor paused. "Yes, you would for a less severe case."
Her eyes narrowed. "So, what do I do for my case?"
He went silent. Y/n froze. Everyone looked to the doctor, who seemed unsure of how to continue. "I'm sorry."
Y/n understood what he was saying. She felt her sore muscles stiffen up again, this time from panic. "You're saying there's nothing? Do I just have it let it go away on its own, or...?"
"A case this advanced won't go away on its own."
"Well, if it won't go away on its own and we can't treat it, then...then what?" she asked, her voice becoming more panicked. "What do I do? Tell me what to do, I'll do it."
Lawrence just shook his head again. "I'm so sorry. I'll give you all a minute to figure out how you want to proceed."
He left then, and everyone was silent.
"Y/n," Eddie said, his voice quiet and careful, "what does that mean?"
She was staring at the blanket over her legs, eyes blank. "Can someone please get my mom on the phone please?" she asked quietly.
"Y/n, what does it mean?"
"It can't be treated. It's not going to go away on its own, it'll just get worse," she said in a quiet, calculated voice, like she was reading from a textbook. "It'll put more and more pressure on my brain stem. And the brain stem regulates circulation and breathing, so..."
Karen let out a sob, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth. Y/n couldn't bear to look up at the faces around her, because she knew she'd see a reflection of exactly what she was feeling right then: hopelessness.
It meant that she was already gone.
"Someone get my mom on the phone. Please."

The night that followed was awful. Camila returned, having finally found someone to watch Julia and the twins. Y/n had watched as Billy told her the news. She teared up, tears streaming down her face within minutes. But she shoved them away as she walked into the room to give Y/n a hug. She chatted about how Julia missed her. She did a good job of keeping the conversation off of the obvious. Y/n was glad for it.
Eddie ended up beside Y/n on her bed. She curled into his side, floating in and out of consciousness. She seized twice more, once just past one in the morning, once after the sun had just started to come up.
Her mom arrived on a flight from Pittsburgh at two. The first time Y/n cried was when she saw her walk into the room.
The morning brought some sense of comfort. Karen and Billy went out to get coffee and bagels for everyone. They all sat around and talked about something other than music, which they hadn't done as a group in years, maybe in forever.
Y/n glanced up at Eddie at some point during the conversation and noticed that he had a strange look on his face. "What?" she asked, nudging him.
Eddie looked down at her, a million thoughts in his head at once, all of which combined to form one coherent sentence.

EDDIE: I told her right then and there that I wanted to marry her. I didn't care how much time she had left. I wanted to call her my wife.
KAREN: When I looked at Y/n, I could just tell...he didn't have to say it twice.
GRAHAM: It all happened so fast from there. Karen called the minister that had done Camila and Billy's wedding ― once we told him the circumstances, he was pretty quick to agree to officiate. That guy was metal, man. He'd done two last-minute weddings for a rock band within two years. Show me another priest who could brag about that. Not that priests brag, right? Jesus was humble and shit. But you know what I mean.
CAMILA: Eddie left to get a tux. He said he wanted to do his part, even if Y/n was wearing a hospital gown.
EDDIE: I think I said something really cheesy about how, if she could look that good in a hospital bed, then I could at least do my best to look the part of a groom. She loved it.
KAREN: Graham went with him, for "style advice," is how I think he phrased it. Really I think he just went to make sure he had someone there with him. None of us really wanted to leave Eddie alone.
GRAHAM: I think we got the first one that fit. He wore it as we left the place. Eddie wasn't screwing around. He was giddy the whole time. He would go dead silent for a few minutes and then talk my ear off for another few. All in all, I think we were gone for maybe forty-five minutes. An hour, tops. We didn't know...we didn't realize they couldn't call us if something happened.
KAREN: It happened so fast. She was so excited, she was talking so quickly I could barely understand her. But she was beaming at us the whole time. You couldn't help but be happy for her.
BILLY: Twenty minutes after they left, she asked for something. Ice chips, I think. The nurses gave them to her all the time, she was kind of addicted. She asked if we could get her some, and Karen said something stupid like, "I'd get you a private jet if you asked for it." And she laughed and said "Don't tell me that ― I might ask, just to see you sweat."
DAISY: Billy left the room to get her some ice and then...I'm no doctor, I can't tell you exactly what happened.
CAMILA: She started seizing up again, so Karen and I tried to put her on her side, but she started fighting us. Like, smacking us away whenever we tried to touch her. I don't know if it was her or...[Pause] something other than her. That's the kind of thing that keeps me up, you know? She was so happy to get married. So happy. But when she hit us away...it was almost like she knew exactly what she was doing.
KAREN: The doctors came in and shooed us back out into the waiting room. Camila didn't want to let go. Neither did I. They practically had to pull us off of her. Billy found us out there, still holding the ice chips, and Camila just started bawling. She didn't say anything, but I think he could piece together what it was that'd happened.
DAISY: Karen sat down. Billy stayed up with Camila, holding her while the ice in the cup started melting down to water. We couldn't have been out there more than ten minutes when the doctor came out. The look she gave us...we just knew. We knew.
BILLY: Camila was almost screaming. Karen left; we didn't ask where she was going. All of a sudden, it was like...like the first time I ever took a punch. You know, you've heard about getting in a fight and taking a hit so hard it makes your head spin. And then there's the first time it really happens to you, when you take your first punch. And there's this brief moment in between the hit and the pain. You know it's coming, but there's that delay before it gets you. In a second, you get the air knocked out of you, and then...[Shakes head] and then it hits you. It didn't feel like losing a friend, either. I lost a sister.
KAREN: I was just completely blindsided. I walked out, not really knowing where I was going. I felt like I was going to puke, and I didn't want to do that in front of everyone. I think we all forgot, you know, that Graham and Eddie were out...
CAMILA: I remember looking over Billy's shoulder, seeing the car drive back up and Eddie stepped out in the tux. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands, talking a mile a minute, and I just...[Chokes up] I couldn't tell him.
BILLY: He walked into the room, and he saw her, and...God, he just...he pulled out this little box from his pocket. He took her hand, opened the box, and put the ring on her finger. He kissed her on the forehead, and then he left.
KAREN: Camila was his first love, yeah. But Y/n? She was the love of his life, man. He had something people would die for, kill for. And the minute he realized it, the minute he realized what he had, the universe snatched it away from him. Life is un-fucking-fair, man. Always has been and always will be.
CAMILA: God, he really loved her. He really did.

When Eddie got the call, he was surprised to hear that she wanted to speak to him directly. Even more so, he was surprised to hear that someone wanted to write a book about the band. He had always been a firm believer in leaving the past in the past, but she was persistent. Plus, he couldn't say no. Not to her.
They met in a park near the coast. They chatted about life, what she was doing, what he was doing, and it was the general consensus that all was good and well.
"So, where should I start?" he asked as she hit record on the camera.
Julia stepped back from the camera. "Just...tell me about Y/n."
He paused, caught off-guard. And then, he smiled. "This might be a while."

EDDIE: It's not all bad anymore. I got time with her. I'll always wish I had more, but the time I got...it was great. It was the best time I've ever had. But I was able to move on, meet someone new. I think about her every day, and I always will, you know? A person like Y/n...that doesn't leave you. And Jesus Christ am I grateful for that. Julia...I'm really glad you're doing this. Your Aunt Y/n would've loved it.

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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
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
i just added roman roy to my characters i write for list, so send in any and all requests!
yes this is my new hyperfixation. yes i am still writing the chain. but yes i do lovehate roman roy.
The uncensored interviews came out and it's confirmed. He does indeed say "eat my pussy bitch" to Gerri 😂
this caught me off guard so bad i had to text my mom to tell her about “shivorce.”
Okay but why did Greg laugh so loud? Like baby I know you’ve got thots and feelings on the shivorce, please share them with the class
if roman roy were real i would hate him so bad. but since he's not i just want to sleep with him
reblogging this reblog because yes.
haunted (k. sirko)
summary: after watching a horror movie, y/n starts to believe that the rumors that her room is haunted are true. pairing: karen sirko x fem!reader warnings: swearing, mentions of all things horror movie-related (brief mention of gore and paranormal activity) word count: 1.4k



𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒. Since she joined the band, it's been no secret that whenever there's a new scary movie coming out, she's the first to buy tickets and the first to get in line at the theater. Most of the time she'll go alone―the thrill of seeing a scary movie by herself is something that she actually enjoys (adrenaline junkie is how Eddie chose to put it)―but that morning she walked into the kitchen during breakfast and turned to the full table to ask, "Anyone want to see Dance of Death tonight?"
Everyone went silent, sharing glances. Karen frowned. "No one? Really?"
"Sorry honey, I've got a hot date tonight. Enjoy your demented movie, though," Warren said, getting up to put his cereal bowl in the sink.
"I agreed to watch Julia while Billy and Camila are out on their date," Graham said. Eddie offered no excuse, but it was a well-known fact that horror movies are not his thing. The last time he sat through one he ended up staying awake for almost two nights straight, thinking that the second he closed his eyes some malevolent spirit was going to possess him. It was hilarious.
"I'll go," Y/n said, shrugging. "I've got nothing better to do."
"Would you look at that," Karen replied with a smile, "Y/n's got the biggest balls of anyone in this room."
The boys rolled their eyes and scoffed at her comment as Y/n grinned smugly, finishing her bowl of cereal with a flourish.
Later that day, Y/n dressed for the movie in her tiny bedroom, settling on jeans and a dark sparkly shirt that Camila had helped her pick out. As she tied her hair into loose braids, there was a knock at the door. "Come in."
The door opened and Eddie stood in the doorway, looking amused. "You getting ready for the movie?"
"Yep," Y/n replied, refusing to look his way.
Eddie glanced around him before walking in and mocking her. "I'll go to the movies with you, Karen. Can you hold my hand if I get too scared? You're way too obvious."
Y/n threw a hairbrush at him. "Will you shut up? I don't...it's not like that any more, okay? And besides, Graham's been eye-fucking her for months. I figured I'd give him a chance."
"Give him a chance, okay, sure."
Y/n ignored him, swiping another coat of mascara onto her lashes.
"For the record, I think this is very brave of you."
"It's a horror movie, not sky diving," Y/n replied, putting the tube down and heading out the door.
"Okay, just remember that your room is that one that's haunted!" Eddie shouted down the hall at her, making her roll her eyes.
Karen was already in the living room, sitting on the couch, waiting to go. She looked up when Y/n walked in. "Don't you look pretty?" she said in her casual Karen way. Y/n tried her best to ignore how i made her heart beat faster. "Come on. Let's go get scared out of our minds."
Y/n hadn't seen enough horror movies in her life to know whether she liked them or not. Sure, she'd seen bits and pieces of the ones that played on the television when she was younger, but she'd never quite sat down to watch one. Dance of Death was not at all what she was expecting.
She spent half the movie curled into a ball in her seat, nervously passing back and forth the bottle of tequila that Karen had snuck in. The more buzzed she got, the more prone she was to scream at jumpscares. The more buzzed Karen got, the louder she'd laugh at Y/n's reactions.
When the movie was done, they tossed the empty bottle in the trash and left the theater, heading back in the direction of the house. Karen sighed as they stepped into the cool night air like she hadn't a care in the world. Y/n could still feel a light sheen of cold sweat on the back of her neck, not to mention that her hands were sore from gripping the seat.
Karen turned back to look at her, her lips parting in surprise. "Come on, it wasn't that bad!"
Y/n looked at her like she was crazy (which at that point she thought she was). "The ghost picked the guy up and threw him through the window. And then he set the house on fire."
"I've seen worse."
Y/n just frowned at her, then turned and walked away. Karen giggled and raced to catch up with her, hanging onto Y/n's shoulder and interlacing their fingers. "I'm sorryyyyy," she apologized, "I should've warned you."
Y/n said nothing.
"Y/n," Karen said, getting no response. "Okay, fine. How can I make it up to you?"
Y/n glanced at Karen's hopeful face leaning on her shoulder and a small smile broke through the grimace. Karen smiled wider and tugged on her hand. "Come on, what?"
"Next time, I'm picking the movie. And it'll be a comedy. Or a romance. Or a romantic comedy." Y/n said, unable to wipe the smile off her face.
Karen nodded. "Done. Anything else?"
Y/n paused, thinking. "Never tell anyone that I nearly threw up in that theater."
Karen just laughed, swinging their interlaced fingers. "Blame it on the booze, babe. Blame it on the booze."
The house was quiet when they returned. Warren had returned from his date and was lounging on the couch, a beer in his hand. "How was the movie?" he asked when they walked in.
"Great!" Y/n answered, stumbling over her feet. "Not scary. At all."
She and Karen glanced at each other and burst into laughter, shoving each other as they made their way up the stairs. "Goodniiiiiiiiight!" Karen sang.
"Goodnight, lovebirds!" Warren shouted back, then laughed to himself. "They're so shitfaced."
When they made it up the stairs, Y/n paused in the middle of the hallway, her face falling. "Karen," she said, voice suddenly serious, "my room is haunted."
Karen laughed in response. 'What, seriously?"
"Yes. Remember the previous owners said the thing about the lights flickering and the door opening by itself?"
"Okay, well have you ever seen it do that?"
Y/n paused. Thought. "...No."
"Then it's not haunted. Problem solved!" Karen declared, then hopped away to her room. Y/n was still stuck frozen in the hallway, dreading the half dozen steps leading to her own bedroom.
She got ready for bed, putting on an oversized shirt and shorts, trying not to think about the possibility of an evil spirit coexisting in the same place she slept. God, she felt just like Eddie probably had. It almost made her feel guilty for bullying him mercilessly.
And then, finally, she laid down in bed, shutting off the lights and staring up at the ceiling above her. A few moments passed in silence. Okay, this isn't bad.
And then the door creaked. Y/n sat up, eyes wide, heart racing. She heard the click of the bolt on the door sliding out of place, and then, slowly, the door began to creak open.
"Nope, nope, nope, fucking no goddamn way," Y/n muttered as she slid out of bed, not giving herself time to be afraid as she grabbed her blanket and left the room, padding softly across the hallway to Karen's
Y/n slowly pushed open her door, casting a beam of light onto the floor. Karen sat up, frowning. "What's wrong?"
"It's haunted. It's so, so haunted," Y/n said in disappointment.
Karen just smiled slightly, and then held out her arms to Y/n. "Come here, honey."
Y/n hurried forward at the invitation, throwing the blanket over and crawling under the covers. Karen didn't waste a second before wrapping her arms around Y/n pulling her close. If Y/n hadn't been so drunk, she might've been on the verge of losing her mind. But, again, she was very drunk. So she just held onto Karen, letting herself believe that she'd protect her from whatever ghost was haunting this house.
And Karen held her back, silently vowing that she would.
After a while, Y/n muttered, "I don't think I like horror movies."
Karen laughed quietly, pulling away and brushing a strand of hair out of Y/n's face gently. "I know, Y/n. I know."
i love reading my own writing this bitch would be my favorite writer if he ever managed to write
one of these days i’ll write the requests in my inbox i swear