gracie

on hiatus

[kimpossibly]

WHAT'S THE SITCH?

𝙂𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙄𝙀 ! she/her. twenty. bi. writer. student. on semi-hiatus.

CURRENT OBSESSIONS: RUST COHLE, LEE HARKER, ALICENT HIGHTOWER, RAIN CARRADINE, PAUL ATREIDES, ANTHONY LOCKWOOD, JOHN CONSTANTINE, JOHN WICK, EDDIE ROUNDTREE

— MASTERLIST

SIDE BLOG -> @clementinecowgirl FIC RECS -> @kimpossiblyficrecs

my blog is for everyone!! any smut or 18+ content will be marked properly, so keep an eye out! be nice and enjoy :)

copyright © kimpossibly

[kimpossibly]

Please stand by for a HUGE downsizing of my account...

[kimpossibly]

OK HI IM BACK!!

Sorry for the insane restructuring and deleting of over 75% of my posts (it was scary omg) but I felt that I had really drifted from this account because I wasn't proud of a lot of the work that I'd put out in the past and a lot of it also entwined with interests I don't really have anymore, soooooooo I decided to revamp it all to make it fit me more!!

My DJATS and miscellaneous works are still up on my masterlist (linked in my pinned post) so feel free to look through those if you'd like!! I've also listed my current obsessions on the pinned post so you can see what characters I'm currently into. Thank you for bearing with me during this changearound!!

Love u all!!!!

[kimpossibly]

Please stand by for a HUGE downsizing of my account...

[kimpossibly]

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.”

[kimpossibly]

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.

[kimpossibly]

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."

[kimpossibly]

⋆♱✮♱⋆ 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.

[kimpossibly]

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."

[kimpossibly]

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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[kimpossibly]

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."

[kimpossibly]

Hey guys. I know you're all waiting on the last part of The Chain, as well as all of your lovely submissions from my 300 followers celebration, but I think I might need to step away for a bit. I've recently had a death in the family, someone very close to me, and I need some time away from this website ― and all social media, really ― to clear my head and focus on the people in my life that I'm really grateful for. Of course that includes you all, but I need some time to be with my family and friends. Thank you all for your constant support and love you've been giving me and my stories. They mean the world to me. You guys mean the world to me. I'll be back in a little bit to keep making you guys smile. Much love <3

Note: I'm also very happy to announce that I now have a little over 400 followers less than 3 days into my 300 followers celebration. You guys are crazy and passionate and I love you. All 405 of you <3

[kimpossibly]

oh my god. im in love with "the chain". the whole storyline you planned for her fitting just right with the whole thing? PERFECT. and the "She didn't look much older now than she did then" LIKE OKAY THATS THEIR BABY I REALLY LOVE THIS DINAMIC AND ITS GOING TO HURT SO BAD IN THE END. also her and daisy being bffs *chef kiss*

i always feel the need to let you know how good and enjoyable and sweet your writing is!!!!!!!!!!!!! sending a lot of kisses your way and, again, im very excited for the next part <3

- the same anon from the first ask abt it :]

THIS IS SO SWEET OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SOB.

Thank you so so much for reading and taking the time to message me. And also I WAS REALLY HOPING PEOPLE LIKED THAT LINE SO AHHHHHH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU MWAH MWAH MWAH. Her and Daisy are indeed bffls but kinda toxic bffls?? Who knows where this will go.

Thank you again for complimenting me specifically on my writing ― it's one of my favorite things in the world to do, so I'm glad that you (and hopefully others) think I'm doing it well.

This message means the world to me and I can't thank you enough <3 <3 <3

(Also: I was thinking of having emoji anons? So if you want to be a [insert emoji here] anon then send me another ask with your pick! Just so that you don't have to be "the same anon for the first ask" if you don't want to !)

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART THREE: the six

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: I fear I may have screwed up the timeline, but oh well! Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

SEVENEIGHTNINE (1975-1976)

The recording of their first album tested The Six's strength ― not only as a band, but as friends. And Y/n, who had never really been a part of the band during its songwriting process, was quick to realize that there was friction between the same band members again and again. Most notably, Billy and Eddie.

KAREN: Eddie wanted more freedom with what he was playing, Billy thought that since he was the frontman that his word was law...it's the same old story you've heard before. They were in a constant dick measuring contest and neither one of them wanted to admit defeat.

WARREN: Billy was my friend. Eddie was my friend. But when you put them in a room together and told them to make a song, they were the most annoying motherfuckers you'd ever met.

One day after a particularly harrowing songwriting session, the band found themselves back at the house in Laurel Canyon. The place that was usually filled with talk and music was silent, the telltale sign that they had brought work home with them. but what else were they supposed to do? They worked together, they lived together. The lines between work and home were becoming dangerously thin.

Y/n couldn't stand the silence. At her house, there had always been something going on ― her mom would be talking on the phone, someone would come in injured and she'd fix them up. At the very least, she'd keep the television on so she could get a good nights' sleep. But that night it was dead silent. Sickeningly so.

So Y/n got out of bed and wandered into Eddie's room. She didn't acknowledge his presence as she walked in, stopped in place suddenly, and collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

Eddie watched the whole thing from his bed, his guitar in his hands. He expected that maybe she'd say something, start a conversation and whatnot, but she didn't. She just went on, staring at the ceiling as though she had all the time in the world and a perfect reason to be there on the floor.

So he spoke first. "Hi."

"Why can't you just get over things?"

EDDIE: Out of the blue, no hesitation. "Why can't you just get over things?" I knew what she was talking about. Me and Billy had been at each others' throats for weeks, ever since we started writing the damn album. She wanted to know why I couldn't just pack it all in and take the hits as they came.

"Um―"

"Because here's the thing: you guys both have so much pride. Soooooo much. So much it makes me want to slap you guys across the face and remind you that you're human, not gods. And, look, I get it. He walks all over you sometimes and that's not cool. But sometimes it feels like you're pushing back just to be contrarian. Like you don't really disagree with what he's saying, you just disagree with the fact that he's the one saying it. You get my drift?"

EDDIE: Like I said, she doesn't sugarcoat things. She'll tell you what you are and if you don't like it? Tough.

Eddie paused, leaning back. She was right; he knew that much. And maybe he did argue with things just to argue, but so what? They weren't The Dunne Brothers anymore, they were The Six. Implied equal partnership. And still...

"He's thinks it's his band, Y/n."

"Then talk to him about it."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n sat up, a crease formed between her brows.

He wasn't quite expecting that question. But, after a bit of stumbling, he came to what he thought was a reasonable answer: "Because he doesn't listen."

Y/n just looked at him like that was the dumbest thing he had ever said. "Well then make him listen."

"Yeah, alright. and how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

She didn't answer immediately, thinking. Eddie thought for a moment that he might have won.

EDDIE: There wasn't really a way to win an argument with her. Not really.

After a moment she turned to him. "A war isn't just two guys screaming at each other, Ed. They need soldiers, armies. Let me be your army."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like watching you get pushed around. It's kind of...sad."

"Thanks."

"You asked."

They lapsed into silence again. Y/n laid back down on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. When she spoke again, it was so quiet, Eddie wasn't sure at first if she was talking to him or to herself. "I just...I'm on your side, okay? So don't make it any harder to be."

EDDIE: I never quite got that, you know? "I'm on your side." I had no idea why she'd be on my side. Billy was the frontman, Billy was the guy you looked up to. And there she was, trying to help me out without me even asking. I guess I thought, am I really that pathetic? [Laughs] I probably don't want to know the answer to that. I don't know why she was on my side, I really don't. But it was good to know. Made me feel like, aside from all the melodrama that came with rock n' roll, I had something to hold on to.

By the time SevenEightNine was done, the CEO of Runner Records, Rich Palentino, was not impressed. In fact, in his opinion, the entire collection of songs they had collectively poured their hearts and souls into, did not have a number one single among it. Teddy Price decided to take things into his own hands, and that's when Daisy Jones got involved.

The plan was to take 'Honeycomb' ― a song Billy had written about the life he had promised Camila ― and add a female vocal onto it, a sort of call and response duet.

Needless to say, Billy was not happy about the arrangement.

GRAHAM: He had just gotten back from rehab and was finally making things right with his wife and his daughter, and they wanted to bring a new chick in to "fix" his song. I can see why he was upset. I just think that he could've handled it better.

EDDIE: He threw a fit. So, naturally, everybody tried to do things to appease him. Graham had the idea that Karen could sing the female part.

KAREN: Like I said, I can back up a chorus, but I can't hold my own.

EDDIE: Y/n was thrown into the mix.

KAREN: Eddie put "Y/n" and "solo" in the same sentence and she looked like she was going to vomit. We moved on.

GRAHAM: Eventually Billy got the gist that Daisy was what we needed. At least, Teddy thought so. And Billy would take Teddy's word over his own any day of the week.

BILLY: I thought, "Fine. If this Daisy girl wants to try it, we'll let her try it."

Daisy was brought into the studio within the next couple of days, marking the first time she ever officially worked with The Six. She was generally well received by all its members (except maybe Billy) and found a fast friend in Y/n.

Firstly, they were the closest in age, and, when you're thrown into a new environment surrounded by strangers, that tends to be what you gravitate towards. That, and Y/n had the special ability of getting the boys to shut up long enough to let her do her thing. That was especially important.

DAISY: The first time I got into that studio to record, the rest of the band crowded at the window, staring at me like I was an elephant in a zoo. It was unsettling. I was probably on the verge of yelling to them to give me some room to breathe when I saw Y/n and Karen dragging them out by their collars, kicking them out of the room until they were the only ones left. That meant a lot.

Despite Billy's every attempt to complain, Honeycomb was released featuring Daisy Jones. Billy was stubbornly pessimistic about the whole thing, of course. And by the time the recording and mixing of 'Honeycomb' was done, it was completely different from the song Billy had first pitched. He felt that his vision had been trod upon in a most disrespectful manner, so much so that, when it was first played, start to finish, for the entire band, the walked out the second the record stopped.

They all watched him go with confusion ― the song was good. It was great, even, but Billy hated it so much that he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as it. And this was before Camila started coming to recording sessions, so no one really wanted to follow him out. Especially not Eddie.

So after the door slammed, they all spent a tense few seconds looking around, sharing confused and annoyed looks over Billy's outburst, and when it became clear that no one was going to do a damn thing about it, Y/n sighed and got up. "Looks like I have to do everything around here, huh?"

She found Billy outside, leaning on the hood of his car, staring at the slowly heating pavement in the California sun. He had his hands crossed over his chest, not unlike a kid who had just gotten his toy taken from him. He didn't look up when Y/n stepped outside, but he spoke the moment she was within earshot: "We're not releasing it."

The reply that came back was a sharp, loud laugh from Y/n. "Fuck you, we're not releasing it. It's a good song. Probably the best one we've ever made."

"You don't get it," Billy shook his head, "that's my song that she's singing. Mine. The one that I wrote about my wife."

"It's not about your wife, Billy," Y/n said. "It's an apology to your wife. You asked us all to make it and we said yes, so don't go acting like you're the goddamn puppet master pulling all the strings. You asked us to make the song, and we said yes. And it's our band. Your song, our band. Sometimes we have to make decisions that don't please your every fucking whim because it's our band and we want to take it as far as we can. And this song, Billy? This is how we do that."

He said nothing, continuing to stare at the ground.

"We're releasing it as soon as we can, and the world is gonna lose its fucking mind. At least you can go home and tell your wife that everyone loves her song."

Billy looked up then, some of his scowl melted away. Y/n grabbed him by the wrist, uncrossing his arms and pulling him back towards the studio. "Now the least you can do is go be civil to your bandmates and to the girl who just made us a number one single."

Eventually she succeeded in dragging him back into the recording booth, to the surprise of everyone already there.

"He threw a fit; I told him to shut up and get over himself. So, when can we release it?" Y/n asked, looking to Teddy.

BILLY: Just like that, she told me to get my act together and got me back in that studio. It was a little harsher than it had to be, but it worked. She had perfected the art of making someone realize how much of an asshole they were being at that point. I think she used it most on me. Occasionally Warren. If it weren't for her, I don't know if I would've gotten back in that studio. Because I don't know if anyone else would've walked out to get me.

Just as Y/n had predicted, 'Honeycomb' quickly sailed to the top of the charts. It generated national attention, with the whole world seeming to suddenly ask the question, Who the hell is The Six?

Daisy Jones had singlehandedly brought them to the top, and it pissed Billy Dunne off to no end.

The rest of the band, however, was enjoying their newfound celebrity. Their album, SevenEightNine, came out soon after, putting them on the road for their first tour ever. Daisy was set to be their opening act ― which, again, did not exactly please Billy. But she was a magnet. Where Daisy went, people seemed to follow.

As the days counted down before they left, they did what they knew best: partying. Y/n, in particular, found herself spending increasingly more and more time with Daisy.

DAISY: Not everyone was on board with me having a hand in the band's success, I knew that. But I had a place at the Marmont that had a pool. And back then, that was all it took to be okay in Y/n's book.

―

[The following is a transcription from an interview with Rolling Stone. On June 2, 1975, Jonah Berg sat down with Y/n L/n to discuss the band's recent success and life on the road.]

JONAH: Where do you think you'd be right now? If you weren't in a band, I mean?

Y/N: [Pauses. Smiles] Somewhere in the ocean.

JONAH: No thoughts as to a career?

Y/N: You didn't ask about a career. You asked what I'd be doing right now. And that's it ― I'd be in the ocean. And I'd be in whatever career got me there.

[This marks the end of the transcript.]

―

WARREN: The girl is a fucking fish.

DAISY: She'd go under for as long as she could, come up for a single breath, and go back under again. Over and over and over. You can't get a single word in that girl's ears when she's in the water.

KAREN: Y/n had a habit of getting...obsessed. With people, with music, whatever it was that caught her interest and held it. And Daisy...[pauses] Daisy did that.

EDDIE: I'm not so sure it was a great thing that Daisy and Y/n became friends when they did.

In Laurel Canyon, Y/n was often the first to come home. In fact, whenever another band member stumbled in, they could most likely count on the fact that if they shouted, "Y/n, I'm home!" they'd hear her yell "Good. Go to sleep!" in response. But that night, it was not the case.

After all the band members had returned for the night, Y/n was still at the Marmont with Daisy. Her hair and clothes were still drying from when she had jumped in the pool an hour previous ― well, she either jumped or she was pushed. She couldn't quite remember now.

Dozens of people had crowded around the pool, drinking and doing whatever drugs came their way. More than once, Daisy and Y/n would stop their stroll to knock back some pills passed their way or do a line off a pool table. Y/n started to wonder what time she had to get home when she noticed Oh, the sun is coming up. Has the sun always been that purple?

"Daisy, what time is it?" she asked, looking to her left. But Daisy had disappeared. There was a splash, and suddenly Daisy was floating in the pool with her nicest Caftan dress billowing around her. She looked like some kind of mystical sea nymph, or so Y/n thought.

"DJ!" Y/n yelled at her, catching her attention. "I need to go home."

Daisy, of course, wouldn't hear of it. Parties didn't end until she thought they were over. "No, no come on! Just stay a little longer!"

"I can't, I...we have rehearsal in the morning."

Daisy sighed, splashing somewhat disappointedly. "Mkay. Fine," she sighed, swimming over to the edge, "can you at least help me out?"

She held a hand out, which Y/n took. Stupid decision, of course. Daisy just pulled her into the pool, causing an eruption of cheers around them.

As she hit the water, Y/n briefly thought that she had some reason to be upset with Daisy, but she couldn't quite remember why. Within a moment, all discomfort had disappeared, completely forgotten, and she was perfectly ready to stay as long as Daisy wanted.

That was, until she came up for air and saw Billy standing there at the edge of the pool.

For a moment, Y/n just stared up at him blankly. Then, she splashed water on him. He looked at her in confusion and she explained, "I had to make sure you were really there and I wasn't just making you up."

"Y/n, it's time to go." he said.

"Oooookay," she said slowly. "I'll get a taxi in a little bit."

"No, this isn't some kind of courtesy call. It's time to go now."

Y/n huffed in response, swimming over to the side. She was too tired (or doped up) to argue. Really, Billy's presence reminded her that she had a house with her own bed. And she realized right then how much she really, really wanted to be in bed.

"Who told you I was here?" she said as she attempted to hoist herself out of the pool.

"Eddie did," Billy replied, helping her out. "Something about you not knocking."

"That son of a bitch," she muttered. "Where is he?"

"Back at the house. Asleep."

"I want Eddie. Get him here."

"You'll see him in the morning."

Y/n, not satisfied with that answer, pushed Billy away, anger curling her hands into fists. "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Billy. I'm a fucking adult. I know when I've reach my limits."

Billy looked at her. Mascara and eyeliner had traced gray lines down her face. Her hair and clothes were soaking wet, clinging to her, dripping onto the pavement. For a second, the hardened look on her face reminded Billy of the day she wandered into their garage and stole the drum sticks straight from Chuck's hands. She didn't look much older now than she did then.

"Just get in the goddamn car."

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No!"

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

She looked down suddenly and noticed a deep cut on her right hand. She frowned at it, but didn't seem that surprised at its existence. "That was there when I got here."

Billy more or less forced her into the passenger seat of the car, where she hung her hand out of the window, letting the blood drip onto the pavement rather than onto the seats.

In the less than ten minute drive home, Y/n talked until she was laughing hysterically at her own jokes, stuck her head out the window and howled at the moon, and finally sat in silence long enough that she started to cry.

Eddie woke up that night to a book hitting him in the face. He jolted awake, looking around wildly. And then, in the dead silence of his room, Y/n's voice came from the doorway. "Snitch."

She shut the door after that, and he heard her stumbling footfalls down the hallway.

And while that should've been the last time Y/n partied with Daisy, it wasn't. She went the next night, and the night after that. The knocks on Eddie's wall became less and less frequent until they stopped all together.

Daisy became her favorite pastime.

"You're in love with Eddie, right?" Daisy asked. They were both lying on the ground outside at the Marmont, letting their heads hang over the pool so that only their hair soaked in the water.

At her question, Y/n shot up, her wet hair drenching her back with cold water instantly. "What?"

"Oh, sorry," Daisy said, still hanging there. "I just thought...you know..."

Y/n did not, in fact, know. She turned to Daisy, a crease formed between her brows. "Why would you think that?"

Daisy sat up then, her impossibly long hair acting like a weight that she had to struggle against to sit up. "You're always lookin' at him when you're rehearsing. At a certain point it was like...I could count on the fact that when I walked into the studio, you'd be right next to him."

As Daisy spoke, Y/n felt herself frowning deeper and deeper. Eddie...Eddie was her best friend. That was for sure. He was the one she went to when she wanted to talk to someone.

Three thoughts emerged as Daisy talked.

One: I am not in love with Eddie Roundtree.

Two: I'm in love with Eddie Roundtee.

Three: It's so obvious it's sad.

Daisy kept talking, oblivious to her sudden revelation. "I get it, you know? If you really like him, you should just go for it. He's a nice guy, and he looks at you as much as you look at him."

Y/n excused herself then, claiming she felt sick. Well, that was mostly true ― she did feel sick. But not the type of sick that drinking generally made her. The kind of sick that came from thinking too hard, too quickly.

But instead of coming back, she left the Marmont, walking home with bare feet. She was still dripping with pool water, freezing her ass off the whole way home, but she was too deep in her own head to really realize it.

She made it back just as the sun was starting to come up, falling asleep on the couch rather than in her room. She slept fitfully, waking up every half hour or so thinking she had said something in her sleep that she couldn't take back.

The next night, she didn't go back to Daisy's. In fact, when Eddie heard Y/n's bedroom door shut before midnight, he frowned, wondering momentarily if she had just imagined it. Then, to test the theory, he knocked. It was the tune to the newest song by the Kinks. He didn't think too long about the song, really, he just wanted a response.

For a moment, none came. He waited patiently, silently, for any response. There was none.

Sighing, he settled back down on his bed, deciding that that was the last time he'd knock. There was no point in knocking to no response.

But a few moments later, the response came ― this time at his bedroom door.

He paused, sitting up, part of him wondering if he'd completely imagined it. Either way, he had to check. He got up, leaving his bass on the bed, heading to the door. He opened it and Y/n stood in the doorway, hair still wet from a shower.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi."

And then, before he had the chance to say anything else, she stood on her toes and kissed him. He was so taken by surprise that he practically froze as he kissed her back, only to be unfrozen by her pushing him further into the room and kicking the door shut behind them.

EDDIE:  [Pauses. Takes a deep breath] Oh, wow. Um. Yeah, sure. Yes. I did…I did love Camila. But, everyone loved Camila, you know? Maybe it was…at one point I thought maybe…[pauses] it’s not important. The love I had for Camila…it was painful. It was so much stuff that had nowhere to go, so it just sat. Weighed me down. And Y/n was the first person who, I don’t know, made it lighter.

The next morning when Y/n woke up, she was clearheaded for what felt like the first time in years. The sunlight didn't make her head pound, she didn't feel nauseated, and she didn't have to check herself to see if she'd acquired any news injuries from the night before.

When she rolled over, Eddie was there, still asleep. Her lips parted slightly at the sudden reminder that the previous night hadn't been a dream. And the reminder of Eddie's presence next to her reminded her that there were, in fact, several other people in the house.

She sat up and saw Eddie's shirt at the edge of the bed. She reached for it, leaning over and tapping Eddie on the shoulder. "Hey," she said. He stirred a bit. She held up the shirt. "Can I borrow this?"

"'Course." he responded sleepily. "You leaving?"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be far. Just down the hall" she said with a smile. He laughed slightly at that, and she gave him a quick kiss on the side of his lips. She tried to get up then, but Eddie caught her wrist, pulling her back down to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pressing his lips to hers. She found herself smiling as he kissed her, a chill running down her spine.

Eventually he let her go and she slipped his shirt over her head. She went for the door, pausing before opening it. "We're going to talk about this later, by the way."

Eddie frowned. "What's there to talk about?"

She paused, thinking. "Maybe talk is the wrong word for it."

She gave him a sly smile, causing him to roll his eyes and bury his head in his pillow. She laughed quietly, opening the door as quietly as she could and shutting it behind her. And as she went to walk into the hallways, she saw Warren standing there, a beer can in one hand.

WARREN: She looked at me with this doe in headlights look, and I just knew she was going to ask, so I told her before she had the chance.

"We have thin walls."

WARREN: Man, the look on her face right then. [Laughs] Priceless. I was so drunk the night before, I didn’t hear shit, but one look at her—the messy hair, the smudged makeup—you just knew. I was happy for ‘em. For once it felt like I wasn’t waiting for the shoe to drop, you know? It just…dropped. I was happy for them.

Y/n said nothing to him, simply turning and walking away, causing Warren to chuckle to himself.

Billy and Camila moved out of the house in Laurel Canyon soon thereafter, wanting to have a home to call their own. That left the more, well, irresponsible band members to themselves.

One day, Warren returned to the house to find Graham, Karen, Eddie, and Y/n on the back porch, slumped in chairs, staring at the air in front of them like they were waiting for something.

"What are you guys on and can I have some?"

WARREN: It was mescaline, because of course it was.

"How long does it take to kick in?" Warren asked.

Karen shrugged. "Depends on the person."

A few seconds later, Warren suddenly stood up, stumbling slightly. "Whoa..."

Y/n giggled, then frowned. She moved her head back and forth, side to side, like she was weighing it. "Guys, my head is getting really heavy. Too heavy. How much should my brain weigh? Can brains gain weight? Do I have an overweight brain and I didn't notice it until now?"

"If you had an overweight brain, you wouldn't have failed math." Warren said. "Now, I-I feel on a molecular level, you know, like me and the canyon, we are..." he trailed off, then clapped, "Ha! No, we're the same, man."

Karen laughed. "Warren and Y/n are feeling it, clearly."

Graham laughed, and then suddenly he went slack, eyes wide. "Oh shit..." he put his hand over his stomach, "I can't feel my heart."

As Karen went to make sure his heart was actually beating (which, of course, it was ― he was just looking in the wrong place for it), Y/n turned her attention to Eddie. He was staring at his hands like it was the first time he was seeing them. She looked at her own, waving them in the air like she was trying not to hurt the air.

Y/n and Eddie had kept their, well, for lack of a better word, tryst, from the rest of the band members. Except, of course, Warren who had found out completely by mistake. As Y/n inspected her hands, she let one fall to the side, landing on Eddie's thigh.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

"No, Graham, it's there."

"Karen, I can't feel my heart. It's gone, man."

Y/n slid her hand further up his thigh, trying her best not to giggle at the way he tried to keep his cool under her touch.

"Can-Can we call a doctor or something?"

"Graham. Move your hand up."

Graham frowned, looking down. Then moved his hands to the correct place and, upon feeling his heart beating steadily underneath his palms, sighed in relief. "Oh. Thanks."

Eddie suddenly stood up, startling all of them. Without a word, he took Y/n by the hand, pulling her back inside. Y/n giggled then, already going to unbutton her shirt.

Karen and Graham watched them go in confusion. "What the hell is up with them?" Graham asked as the door shut behind them.

Warren just raised his half empty beer can in their direction. "L'Chaim," the declared, then drank it all in one sip.

Thanks to Honeycomb, The Six had been put on the map. They were touring for their first album with Daisy Jones as their opening act. It was on that tour that they all got their first taste of real fame of screaming crowds and fanatic fans.

Towards the end of the tour, the decision was made that Daisy would join the band, and they would soon become known as Daisy Jones & The Six. After the tour, they were on their way to creating their first album with Daisy on the team.

EDDIE: Things were perfect. Well, I didn’t think they were perfect at the time. I still wasn’t getting along with Billy, I didn’t feel like I had any creative control, I basically felt like a second-class citizen even though I had been there from the beginning. But I had Y/n, and the band was successful. If I had been able to put down my pride and look at my life from a couple steps back, I probably would have thought, damn…this ain’t bad.           I never really guessed how bad things would go downhill after that.

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART TWO: knocks

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, s*xual h*rassment, men being awful, mention of divorced parents, drinking, drugs (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: I didn't expect to have an update ready this quick, but here you go! Enjoy the product of sleep deprivation and sun sickness! Love youuuuuu &lt;3

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

GRAHAM: I think we were all a little worried about her, you know? Like, she was younger and, not to mention, a girl. We didn't really know if she could...hang with us, I guess. Which sounds stupid now, I know. But we thought we were going to be the next big thing. Bonafide rockstars. And you didn't get to be a rockstar by wearing pigtails and overalls.

WARREN: I mean, that van, man. It could get pretty hectic. I think Graham was worried we were going to scare her away, but, I don't know...she didn't seem like the type to get scared away.

Long days on the road were always Y/n's favorite. Back before their van was fancy enough to have actual seats, it was five of them shoved into the back bed of the thing while some poor sucker got forced to drive. It was usually Warren. Or Graham.

WARREN: Every. Single. Fucking. Time. "It's your van, Warren, drive the fucking van." Like, hey, dingbats, I bought this van for the band, not so that I got to be your private chauffeur. But, you know, water under bridges and all that. And I could bully Graham into driving most of the time.

GRAHAM: I didn't get bullied. I...I'm a team player, that's all.

Y/n liked those long drives, mostly because she could find a corner of the van to shove herself in with a book. The boys and Camila would roughhouse until inevitably someone got actually injured, and then Camila would put them all in a semi-time out, and that's when the talking started.

BILLY: Camila was always the one who could get her to talk. One of us would ask her a question, and she'd give a bullshit answer that we knew was bullshit. Five minutes later, Camila would ask her the same question, and she'd get a real answer. [Laughs] It never failed. Cam always said she thought Y/n was scared of us at first, but I don't believe that for a second. She just didn't want to give us any reasons to mess with her. I get that.

"Whatcha reading?" Warren asked, kicking his shoe in Y/n's direction.

"Toe-curling erotica. Written by your mother."

CAMILA: Toe-curling erotica.

EDDIE: Written by your mother.

WARREN: She said the most outlandish shit, man. No filter. [Laughs].

That caused a howl of laughter from everyone ― even Warren, who was the epitome of a good sport, even when he was the subject of ruthless teasing.

WARREN: I just found it funny. I didn't care it was supposed to be a dig at me. It was funny.

After a few more minutes of chatter, Camila leaned over and moved the front cover of the book Y/n was reading to catch a glimpse of the title. "Lolita."

Y/n nodded. "My school library had it banned, so I decided to read it. I asked our librarian for a list of the banned books and I've been making my way through them ever since. What's the endgame here?"

She said the last part to Billy, who was only half-paying attention until Camila nudged him. "What?"

"What's the goal, what are we trying to do? Are we going to play local for the rest of our lives or are we going to go out there and do this like a real rock band? What's the endgame? How far are we taking this?"

Everyone went silent, looking to Billy for an answer. No matter how much some of them might have disliked it, he was the frontman of the band. The one with the answers. But he fell silent with the rest of them because he'd been wondering the same thing himself.

After a moment, he shrugged and turned to her. "We go as far as it takes us."

A look of understanding washed over Y/n at his words. She gave him a single nod and went back to her book, though now she wasn't quite sure she could focus on it.

EDDIE: You could tell right then that that was when she started respecting Billy. She didn't have to like him, but she respected him. They had the same goal without even having to talk about it. For better or for worse, they had that in common.

A few minutes later Y/n spoke without looking up from her book silencing everyone. "You do know that if we want to succeed ― I mean, really make it ― we need a keyboardist, right?

EDDIE: Yeah. [Laughs] He didn't really have an answer for that one.

That Thursday, the night they were set to open for The Winters, they found what was going to be the answer to their (or, rather, Y/n's) prayer. Their keyboardist was a girl about the same age as Graham. Y/n hung out backstage during their sound check, watching her with interest. In her mind, she was the only one worth watching. Not just because she was pretty ― though she was, admittedly, gorgeous ― but because she was the only one up there who seemed to be really interested in what she was doing. And yet, the half-talented half-wits in her band had shoved her to the back, practically out of sight.

Y/n clapped when they finished, earning her a nod of appreciation from the guitarist and a wink from the bassist. As they all walked off stage, she saw the drummer grab for the keyboardist's ass, laying a rough hand on her. Immediately, she turned and slapped his arm, cursing at him. And the drummer seemed completely undaunted, laughing and holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry Karen," he muttered as he skirted past her.

The guys disappeared, laughing amongst themselves, but the girl ― Karen ― stayed there, looking like she was ready to spit fire. She noticed Y/n after a moment, at which point the younger girl spoke.

"They treat you like shit."

"They do, don't they?" she replied, as if it was the first time she had thought to say it out loud. "Are you in a band?"

Y/n nodded. "The Dunne Brothers."

"Yeah? Are they like those guys?" she said, nodding to where her band had just been.

Y/n paused. Thought. "I'm not totally sure yet. But, from what I've seen, no. Not at all."

KAREN: I told those assholes I was out the next morning. I couldn't handle their shit anymore. Plus, I liked Y/n. She had a nice vibe, and, honestly I felt like she just needed a friend. One that she knew wouldn't try to harass her. I didn't care how nice those guys in her band were. Everybody needs that. And anyway, they needed the help. Like, there were six members of their band by then, and they still called themselves "The Dunne Brothers." Only two of them were Dunne Brothers. it was ridiculous.

"What about...Shaggin'?" Warren suggested as he ate a fry. The seven of them ― the band and Camila ― had been attempting (and failing miserably) to come up with a new name for the band, at Karen's insistence.

There was a chorus of Absolutely nots and Hell nos, mostly from Karen, Camila, and Y/n. Warren rolled his eyes at them and sarcastically apologized for being a "forward thinker."

Graham spoke up then. "Or what if we combined words, like...like Dipsticks?"

"Dipsticks?" Eddie repeated. "I love you man, but no."

Y/n was getting impatient. "Come on, our combined intelligence makes up, like, three and a half high school diplomas. The six of us can come up with something."

And as another chorus of arguing broke out, Karen suddenly had a look of intrigue on her face. "I like that."

Y/n frowned. "Like what?"

"The Six," she clarified.

KAREN: It was quick, it was snappy. The Kinks, The Whos, The Six. It fit right in with all these bands we were inspired by. It was a stroke of genius in the middle of a sentence.

EDDIE: We all knew it was the one, I think. None of us could really argue with it, you know? It's what we were; the six of us. And Y/n was pumped that it was sort of kind of her idea.

Y/n raised her glass, which at that point was filled with her third Shirley Temple. "To The Six," she declared with a smile. "And to our stage mom, Camila."

There was a smattering of laughter as they all raised their respective glasses, meeting in the middle with a collective clink.

And then, instantly, things went back to normal.

"All right, who the hell just kicked me?" Warren said. "Y/n?"

"It wasn't me. But maybe it should've been." she retaliated, sending a kick back in his direction.

Of course, she missed, instead hitting Eddie's shin. He groaned in pain, then kicked her back. She fought back by throwing a crumpled up napkin at him. And then it was an all-out war of kicking shins and throwing napkins that not even Camila could put a stop to.

GRAHAM: I was the one who kicked Warren. It pissed him off and I thought it was funny.

WARREN: It was Graham? Of course it fucking was. That little shit.

BILLY: Around 'seventy-one, we'd booked a couple shows in New York, which was huge for us.

EDDIE: New York was how you knew you were somebody. Getting out of your hometown was one thing, but New York was an entirely new plane of existence. To say we were excited would be an understatement. We lost our minds.

Their first show was set to be at the Bowery, a bar towards Time Square. It was there that The Six first came into contact with Rod Reyes.

"Obviously, you got to write your own material," Rod said, lighting up his second cigarette in the last ten minutes. He, Billy, Graham, and Y/n were sitting at the back door of the Bowery after their show, smoking. Well, Y/n didn't smoke. Neither did Graham. But Billy had seen Rod Reyes and pulled them away.

GRAHAM: He saw Rod Reyes, grabbed me and Y/n by the sleeves and said, "We're going for a smoke." And Y/n and I looked at each other and I said, "We don't smoke." Billy just pointed to Rod Reyes and said, "You do now."

"I do," Billy responded. "Most of it's not good enough...yet."

"What are you writing about?"

"I have this one song called 'Nevermore,' about the Catonsville Nine..."

"Nooooo," Rod said, cutting him off. "Are you Bob Dylan? Are you Buffy Sainte-Marie? Enough with the political shit. It's a new decade! No one needs reminding that the world is a mess."

"He has a point." Y/n said, causing Graham to mess up her hair and push her away.

Rod continued on, "People want to feel good again. They want to feel hope," he said. "You can write a love song, can't you?"

GRAHAM: Rod was the first person to offer us any real criticism. In fact, at first, it seems like that was all he really had for us.

ROD REYES (manager, The Six): I may have been a bit harsh with them in the beginning.

"You need to cool it with the solos, brother," he said, turning to Graham. "Nobody cares about your technical guitar skills. They want to sing. They want to dance."

KAREN: Rod told me to wear low-cut shirts. I told Rod to eat shit, and that was that.

"And you," he said, looking over at Y/n. "You gotta start putting on some makeup, kid. No one wants to show up for a rock show and then feel like they're at Sesame Street Live."

Y/n wrinkled her nose, giving Billy a look that said, You're really just going to let this happen? But Billy just shrugged.

"Oh, and one more thing," Rod said. "Keep eyefucking the bassist. You guys got that perfect 'Will they, won't they' thing going. It's perfect."

Y/n felt like the air had been knocked out of her.

EDDIE: Graham was the one who told me what Rod had said. Y/n never mentioned it.

"The last thing I'll say, and this is key," Rod said, bringing them in. "You need to get the fuck out of Pittsburgh. New York is one thing, but if you want to be signed to a label, you want to work with Jimmy Miller, Tom Dowd, Teddy Price..."

And the name Teddy Price, they all exchanged excited looks.

"You gotta get out west. They're all in LA now. Not London, Not New York. California, my friend. That is the place you gotta be."

BILLY: We knew it was a big ask. For all of them to put their lives on hold and move out to the opposite side of the country. Graham and I were in it from the get-go, one hundred percent. It was up to the rest of the guys to decide if they were coming or staying.

"I'm in," Eddie said without a second beat.

"Me too," Karen said.

Billy let out a surprised chuckle. "Yeah?"

"Guess I better gas up the van. You think she's gonna make it?" Warren joked.

"I think she's gonna make it," Eddie laughed as Billy slung an arm over Warren's shoulder. "Y/n? You in?"

They all paused, looking to her.

EDDIE: She was in it from the beginning; we all knew that. But out of all of us, she was the only one with a really good relationship with her parents. She was seventeen then, and I don't know if or when she really planned on leaving her mom behind.

But then, she smiled. "As far as it takes us, I'm there."

And there it was, they all howled with cheers of celebration, jumping around and giggling like kids. They were heading out west, chasing their collective dream, all because some man wearing sunglasses in the dead of night told them to.

GRAHAM: It was that sort of last minute, flying by the seat of your pants stuff that got us amped up. It was like this guy had held out the golden ticket and all we had to do was take it. We all felt it right then ― we were gonna be rockstars.

It took almost five days for them to pack up and drive from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles. Camila joined at the last minute, bringing the total of licensed drivers up to six. In actuality, Y/n was the best driver out of all of them, she just wasn't legally able to.

There was no time in between reaching their destination and performing their first gig. In fact, they were so pressed for time that they skipped going to what would be their new house entirely, heading straight to the Troubadour for their first gig.

GRAHAM: I don't know if it was all the exhaustion and drugs kicking into eleventh gear, but...that was our best show to date. The one we had the least time to prepare for. We were all in it, you know? Didn't matter that we'd just been in a van for four and a half days. We had a job and we did it. We kicked ass that first gig.

ROD: Teddy Price was a producer with Runner Records at that point. I saw him halfway through the set, just listening. So afterwards, I went up to him to talk. He told me his assistant had seen them back in Pittsburgh and thought they were something worth watching.

BILLY: Rod introduced us to Teddy Price after the show. The first thing he asked me was, "Where do you see this band in five years? Ten years?" And it was all I could do to say, "We'll be the biggest band in the world."

Shortly after meeting Teddy Price, The Six was invited to Runner records, where they signed a recording and publishing deal. Their debut album would be produced by Teddy Price himself.

"You're fucking with me," Y/n said.

Billy had just broken the news that Teddy Price ― the same Teddy Price they had spent their time idolizing ― wanted to create an album with them.

"I'm not fucking with you," Billy replied, the widest smile any of them had ever seen on his face. Everyone had been stunned into silence, other than Y/n.

She walked up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Because if this is a joke and you think you're being funny, I'll chase your ass all the way back to Pittsburgh. With a shotgun."

And Billy just shook his head. Y/n's hands flew up to cover her mouth, the breath suddenly pulled from her chest. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my God!"

She threw her arms around Billy, and that was when the rest of the band started screaming.

BILLY: One night in LA. One. I...[Laughs. Shakes head] I don't know what else there is to say.

Once in Los Angeles, the band settled in a rickety old house in Laurel Canyon. The front door was off its hinges and it creaked whenever someone took a step, but, to the seven of them, it was home. They just needed to adapt.

And adapt they did.

Every once in a while, Graham would pick up a spatula, toss it from hand to hand for a moment, and then point it at Warren and declare, ‘En garde’ in a shitty French accent.

And then all hell would break loose.

Graham would whack Warren with the spatula until he grabbed the fire poker from beside the fireplace. And then Eddie, realizing a fight had broken out, would grab a wooden spoon from the kitchen and join in.

Y/n would try to speculate, but it didn’t quite work like that ― inevitably she’d get used as a shield by one of the boys until she elbowed them in the nuts to get free. And then she’d have no choice but to grab the plastic baseball bat from the closet and fend all three of them off.

Karen had perfected the art of staying out of their way when this happened, retreating to her room and blocking out the noise by blasting a record.

Billy and Camila kept mostly to themselves. Y/n chalked it up to "playing grown-up," but she admired their commitment towards each other. And when they decided to up and get married at four in the morning? She was the first one to start decorating the backyard for the ceremony.

KAREN: I think it all excited her. Camila was pregnant, she and Billy were getting married. I never expected that from her. She just lit up at the idea. And she was the kind of person that, once you woke her up, she was up. It was all we could do to stop her from going overboard with the decorations. Aluminum foil in the trees, Christmas lights over the back porch. Eddie had to tell her to chill out when she started pulling out the plastic flamingos. [Laughs] I don't know, I still think they could've made a good aisle to walk down.

CAMILA: I got married in a white t-shirt and jeans. Karen and Y/n were my bridesmaids. The boys were the groomsmen. And we had a little wedding in the backyard with this ordained minister that Karen knew.

EDDIE: Y/n was crying through the whole thing. I mean, bawling. I'd never seen her cry like that.

WARREN: Eddie kept making faces at her, trying to make her lighten up. Nothing worked. The kid was inconsolable.

"You gonna be all right, babe?" Karen asked during their makeshift after party, which involved blasting music from the one record player in the house and making an impromptu dance floor in the backyard. Karen, upon seeing that Y/n was still crying after the ceremony, asked her to dance in an attempt to make her feel better.

"I'm fine," Y/n insisted, wiping away the latest bout of stubborn tears that had begun to trace their way down her cheeks.

EDDIE: Her parents got divorced when she was nine. She saw all of it. Billy and Camila's wedding was the first one she'd ever seen. It was just...a lot for her, I think. And we were all half drunk and sleep deprived at the time, anyway.

Eventually she dried up and was able to fully join in the all-night party. They drank champagne like there was no tomorrow and slow danced with everyone ― which, when there were only seven of them, didn't take too long.

BILLY: I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was some sort of veiled threat about how she'd bash my kneecaps if I ever hurt Camila. Call her what you want, she was creative. Especially when it came to threatening people.

CAMILA: She told me that if Billy ever hurt me, she'd bash in his kneecaps. [Laughs] I told her I'd keep that in mind.

KAREN: To this day, it was the best wedding I've ever been to.

The party faded out around six in the morning, as the sun began to peek out over the horizon.

WARREN: I got so drunk I didn't know which way was up, so I was the first one to leave. I'm not much fun once I lose my sense of direction. Or so says my wife.

EDDIE: Y/n passed out in a lawn chair around five, so Billy carried her back to her room. From there everyone just kind of filed out to either get what sleep they could get or get ready to rehearse.

The backyard would be decorated to the nines for the next several weeks, as most everyone in the house was too lazy to take them down unless forced. By Camila. With the plastic baseball bat.

They truly settled into life in LA after that. They played shows, partied, and did whatever drugs were handed their way. But, more often than not, they all found their way back to the dinky house in Laurel Canyon, the one place that was theirs. Or, rather, the band's.

Eddie and Y/n's respective bedrooms were separated by a single wall ― and a thin wall at that. Y/n got into the habit of knocking on the wall every night to the tune of whatever song came to mind. Eddie would have to knock back to finish the beat.

She started with simple songs like Jingle Bells, or even songs they had made ― stuff they both knew. But gradually she started knocking out more obscure, complicated beats for Eddie to finish. It quickly became a language; if Eddie found that he needed her to repeat the melody, he’d knock three times. If he needed a hint in the form of a little more of the beat to go off of, he’d knock three times, then once. Sometimes there would be minutes in between knocks. But Y/n would sit on the floor, her head pressed to the wall, waiting for the knock back. And it always, without fail, came.

Unfortunately for him, Warren's room was behind the other wall, meaning he could hear the knocking clear as day.

WARREN: You stumble home, you're drunk as shit, and all you want to do is go to sleep, right? And then you hear these two knuckleheads knocking in Morse Code right next to your fucking ear. What was I supposed to do?

There was the sudden slam of a book getting thrown against the opposite wall, making Eddie jump.

And then Warren's voice came through the wall: "Will you two please shut the fuck up?"

Eddie heard Y/n laugh, and then there were two quick knocks: goodnight.

He smiled to himself and knocked back twice.

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