#pov u are a groupie

[noecoded]

#ASMO: r u with the band..? ♡

outfit from this

[bugpoasting]

feels like such a slamdunk fic concept/prompt but. beatles-monkees 4 for 4 fucking at some random party in the 2 or so years when the monkees were relevant. there's soo much that can be done here

[nwheregirl]

Pov: you are Johnny Silverhand’s punk rocker wife with a “rockstar gf” aesthetic. (AU in our reality and not cyberpunk’s?? NSFWish, just a stupid idea don’t take this seriously!! Also, English is not my first language!)

This is your aesthetic:

This is your relationship’s vibes:

being two anarchists who hate capitalism

free, wild, hating any form of racism

donating lot of money to charity

being humble and not money-driven

love to interact with very young fans bc they are so cute!!

adoring each other and being extra loyal, you will probably never have kids tho. johnny doesn’t like the idea of such a big responsibility

VINTAGE SHOPS!!! VINTAGE CLOTHES!!

TATTOOS! TATTOOS! TATTOOS!

PARTIES, ALCOHOL…johnny smokes too much!! smoking joints together!

he teaches you how to play guitar

MATCHING TATTOOS MAYBE?

he loves when you wear short skirts, of course. anything tight and skin showing, to be honest

calling you his little punk, his doll, “doll face”, “baby”…

he makes you laugh so much!

lot, lot of sex

no really, you can’t take your hands off each other

you fucked in his car, on his motorbike, on every surface of the house, in the studio, in the bathroom of your favourite pub…

getting along with all the members of the band and being friends!!

ofc u support every project and you never miss a concert but that’s obvious

being jealous of his groupies…ops…

“you know you are the only one i want, babe”

wearing his shirts around the house, and only that ofc ;)

teasing and making fun of each other because you are two idiots

you both like classic rock especially the beatles and led zeppelin

he sings “michelle” to you ):

speaking of classic rock, you two met some of the still living legends like paul, ringo, jimmy page, robert plant…

he can be a big softie with you but he will never admit it and if you tell him you’ve noticed how sweet he is with you when you two are alone, he will become his mean and sarcastic self again for the whole day! like he is with every other human expect you, lol

ofc you wore vivienne westwood for your wedding

its your fav brand!

DRIVING VINTAGE BADASS MOTORBIKES TOGETHER??!!

he secretly wrote a song about you, but he never told you which one it is

you both like to sleep a lot on your free days, johnny could sleep literally anywhere

ofc you two have a badass dog like a dobermann or anything big and scary

and you wanted a cat!

“i found this bitch in a dumpster” johnny once told you, a small female black cat in his hand ☠️☠️

he doesn’t like social medias so he doesn’t have an account on any social

you do! fans follow you! you post a pic of him or you two together sometimes.

he only uses messages to talk to you and his friends

he uses phones and writes like a boomer, obviously

PLS FEEL FREE TO ADD ANY IDEA OR FEEL FREE TO WRITE ANYTHING ABOUT THIS IF U LIKE IT! 🖤

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

gif credit

Prologue

masterlist | companion playlist

summary: short blurb for the sake of context! this scene takes place in 1989, 3 years prior to the rest of the story.

tags: eddie munson x reader, gn!reader, rockstar!eddie, angst, hurt/eventual comfort, slow burn, pining, heartbreak, all that good stuff

a/n: welcome back to the new kid!verse my friends, i hope you missed me! enjoy the prologue to the angstiest idea i’ve ever had. Please reblog to support the author!

Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Autumn, 1989

Your POV

“I can’t keep doing this, Eddie. I don’t want this anymore.” You’re pacing aimlessly around your apartment, the old wood creaking under your bare feet.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset. You knew this was gonna happen, I told you things would be different.” His voice cracks, but he manages to keep it together. He blocks you as you try to enter your bathroom to grab your toiletries.

“Different doesn’t mean worse. This is worse. I don’t see you anymore, and when I do, you’re mean. You’ve been at ‘practice’ every night this week, not once calling to let me know you’d be home late. I know you guys are working hard, and I get it. I don’t wanna hold you back anymore.” You bite your bottom lip and look into his eyes, for the first time in the last hour. You’re exhausted, hating to have to keep fighting for a relationship clearly on its deathbed.

“Hold me back? Baby, I-“

You shake your head. You’d been seeing it for months, the way he’d hesitate to tell you where he’s going, or all the good things happening for Corroded Coffin. You’d been supportive of his dreams this entire time, while still trying to get Death Dance off the ground. But you still made time for him, only to be stood up for his band, or his new groupies, or his manager-in-training. You felt left behind, but also couldn’t find it in you to fight. He was happy, regardless of how sad you had become.

“I am so proud of you, Eddie. I wanna make that clear. I will never, ever not be proud of you. But I can’t be your plan B. I can’t keep sitting around hoping you’ll still love me when you finally get big, or wait until you give up and resent me forever.”

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“I’m moving in with Robin, she’s already got a room for me.”

You watch as Eddie’s face falls, almost hearing the sound of his heart breaking. “Y/n …” It falls out of his mouth like a rotten tooth, and you can’t bring yourself to answer him. “You’re leaving me?”

You nod once, and shove past him, into the bathroom. You close the door behind you, sliding down to the floor where you drop your head into your hands. Losing Eddie was never the plan, the last thing you ever saw yourself doing. But your relationship had become toxic, bitter on both sides when you should have been supporting each other. It’s not what you want to do, but you’re convinced it’s the only way to heal, to grow into the person you’ve set out to become. But god, does growing hurt like a bitch.

You take a deep breath and bring yourself to your feet. Everything you own is shoved into backpacks and plastic grocery bags, and you exit the bathroom with another full bag in your arms. Not even stopping to look at Eddie, you snatch the rest of your belongings and head into the chill of the night, the tears in your eyes stinging your cheeks as the wind blows. You don’t look back.

—

It’s short on purpose i’m trying to leave u wondering!!! see u soon for chapter 1!

chapter I

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance | send a message to be added🫶

[princessmisery666]

June 2021 - Fic Recs Master List

Please heed all the warnings on the individual fics. I am not responsible for what you choose read. 

I was in a bit of a Dean Winchester hole this month! 

📚Dean Winchester 

Roots - @percywinchester27 - a sweet and fluffy drabble

Dean Lives Forever - @idreamofplaid - Jensen is having a hard time with Supernatural being over. The reader has an idea to help him deal with his feelings.

Screwing With The Evidence - @flamencodiva - Sam and Y/N face Dean after a one-night encounter.

Bad Days - @peridottea91 - Sam and Dean return from a hunt gone wrong. Sometimes it’s okay to let someone see you hurt.

Not A Dry Pair - @deanwinchesterswitch​ - A fun little glossed-over glimpse into the life of a ‘groupie’.

Cold As Ice - @waywardbaby​ - He has the wrong idea about her. Will he get the chance to change his mind?

Hot As Fire - @waywardbaby​ - What he told her he thought of her wasn’t entirely true. Will she cave?

The Chesterfield House - @idreamofplaid - Working a case together as “newlyweds” leads Dean to see the reader in a whole new light.

Moves - @waywardbaby - It’s basically Reader’s POV on all the things that make this man special and more specifically how his moves affect her

Together We Are The Storm - @deanwinchesterswitch - Angry with the way the brothers have been treating her, the reader decides to take matters into her own hands and fight through the storm that is Dean Winchester.

📚Jensen Ackles

Welcome Home - @there-must-be-a-lock - Got an anonymous request for a praise kink drabble! Here’s some soft dom Jensen and reunion sex. The (drool-worthy) panties mentioned can be seen here.

📚Sam Winchester

Not Exactly Apple Pie - @idreamofplaid - Sam gave up the love of his life to go hell and save the world, but he never got over her.

Save Me - @girl-next-door-writes - gif drabble - Sam saves the reader from a monster. 

The Meadow - @winchest09 - Can you write about Sam taking the reader to a meadow for a sunset picnic?!

Cry No More series link to pt.1 - @fangirlxwritesx67 - The rest of Sam Winchester’s life, stories of what happened between the moments and years the show gave us in the finale.

The Three Times You Met Sam Winchester - @jamielea81 - clues in the title 😜

Alone In The Bunker - @fangirlxwritesx67 - Prompt: First Kiss.

📚Steve Rogers

U + Ur Hand - @cockslut-padalecki - All alone one night, Steve’s thoughts wander.

The Dumb Bet - @deaan - it’s Sam’s bachelor party and Bucky has a bet with him regarding you that ultimately gets you and Steve together.

Two Can Play This Game - @jurassicbarnes - Sunshine Steve Rogers is the type to blush when you sit in his lap on a group movie night only to finger f**k you as soon as the light dim.  

📚Chris Evans

Happy Birthday & Alternate Ending - @jamielea81 - Ouch😢 Chris revaluates his life on his birthday. 

Gone - @jamielea81 - sequel to Happy Birthday (the angsty ending)

Sunglasses - @jamielea81 -  just some cute Sunday morning fluff.

The Bet - @jamielea81 - It all started with a $20 bet with Scott Evans.

📚Clark Kent 

The Nearness of You - @girl-next-door-writes - A heartbroken Clark celebrates his mother’s birthday and finds that sometimes the sweetest moments are the unexpected ones.

📚Bucky Barnes

Welcome Back - @firefly-in-darkness - You welcome back your favourite supersoldier.

Forever - @samwilsons-pillowpecs - A BuckySarah short story

Creams and Comfort - @deaan - You wake up in the middle of the night to a loud noise to find Bucky standing in front of the bathroom mirror, hating the marks on his body

Proof Of Heart - @suitofvibraniumarmor - Maverick and Pepper meet for both business and personal reasons; Dr. Raynor informs Bucky of a new condition to his pardon.

Acapulco - @negans-lucille-tblr - Y/N can think of worse places than Acapulco to be undercover. And she can think of worse people than Sam Wilson to be her fake boyfriend. Even if her friend with benefits is a little jealous watching from the sidelines.

📚Sam Wilson 

Seen - @pinknerdpanda​ - Even when only a flicker of the woman you once were remains, Sam sees you.

Bringing The Cheer - @amanda-teaches - When you’re feeling sad, your best friend, Sam, has just the plan to cheer you up. What over the top gesture does he have planned for you this time?

Last Light - @firefly-in-darkness - Will you survive without Sam?

📚Sirius Black

Imagine being best friends with Sirius Black - @deaan - bffs to lovers that’s what. 

📚Andy Barber

Put You In Your Place - @cockslut-padalecki - Andy is sick of his stepdaughter continuously stepping out of line, and when he catches her spiking the punch at Jacob’s sixteenth birthday party, he’s had enough. It’s time he teaches her a lesson.

[nolanhollogay]

'exchanging looks in a crowded room' for ant. are u picking up what im putting down

if ant is a groupie no he isn't <3 also outsider pov ! everybody say hiii moe

-

Moe had been pretty sure that Ant was joking when he claimed he was Sunset Curve's groupie during their first meeting, but now he wasn't sure.

The way he'd been trading glances with Reggie for the entirety of Sunset Curve's set was certainly muddying the waters.

The tension was palpable even as Moe stood on the side of the side, watching Ant in the swaying mass of the crowd. There was a line of gasoline between their gazes, waiting for a match to be lit and ignite it.

Reggie sent him a wink, making the girls in surrounding him shriek. Ant rolled his eyes, even though a smile was tugging on his lips.

Moe smacked Monty on the shoulder to get his attention. "Are Bambi and the bassist fucking?"

Monty looked into crowd and let out a sort of manic witch cackle. "Oh my God. He wants to eat that loser alive."

"I wanna see too," Paul said, coming up behind them. With all the drama of a 1950's actress, he fanned himself with his hand. "Oh, if they're not banging already, they are tonight."

Dana scoffed, as she stood beside Monty. "Why do you care about someone else's sex life?"

"Because if Monty can't fuck him, someone else should. That's just good manners," Paul said. Monty nodded in agreement.

"I'm just nosy," Moe admitted. "And look at them. It's like.. indecent the way they're looking at each other."

He watched Dana watch Ant watch Reggie push his sweaty hair out of his face.

"Oh, yeah, that's a lot."

[ao3feed-gallavich]

on forming rainbow squads, awkward as it may be

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3erM3bO

by teenbeachmoviestanaccount

Ian's getting married to Mickey, the love of his life. Trevor was not aware of this.

-

my imagining of how geneva got the former groupies to help protect the wedding in 10x12

Words: 1610, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Shameless (US)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Trevor (Shameless US), Geneva (Shameless US), Ian Gallagher (mentioned), Mickey Milkovich (mentioned), Carl gallagher (mentioned)

Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Trevor

Additional Tags: Minor Ian Gallagher/Trevor, Past Relationship(s), POV Outsider, Season/Series 10, Missing Scene, Attempt at Humor, i think it's funny okay, it's just mentions of a past relationship don't worry, trevor haters this isn't for u, geneva haters if u exist this is neutral, gallavich haters this most certainly isn't for u

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3erM3bO

[slxyangel]

Analogy (Izzy Stradlin’ x Reader)

Summary:  So it’s completely up to you with how u end it n all.But my idea was an almost toxic relationship with Izzy like him and I are very on and off with each other yk,basically the only time we get along is when we’re high sort of thing. This was requested by @holyjunkie AGES ago, honey I’m so sorry (for everything, you’ll know). Despite all things, I hope you enjoy it, love.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: Swearing, drug use and abuse, toxic relationship and the slightest mention of sex.

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to post something, but I’m working on future fics now I swear you’ll be compensated. Also, it’s the first time I write a reader insert from the POV of the other character, I hope it went well. This has a little easter egg towards the end, let’s see if someone catches it :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

This needed to stop. This dynamic was gonna end up killing her, killing us. And to be frank, I wasn’t sure if what I scared me the most was the literal meaning of it, as in actually dying; or the rhetorical one, as in “the end of us”, of what we have. They might have been blurring into one same thing.

It was complicated, very complicated, especially the last few weeks. How do you put it in words when your unspoken other half is killing herself with drugs? More so, how do you do it when it was you who kept her in that position for so long you don’t even remember?

At first it was really fun, really smooth, really good… like a heroin high. Well, that’s precisely what it was, a heroin high. Even the day we met at one of Slash’s parties we were already smacked. I think we spent hours and hours just talking, I was so switched off I can’t recall it. All I know is that, the next day, she surprised my sober ass standing at my door with two needles and a small bag.

- I guessed you had teaspoons at home.

After that day, it became a cycle in which we were pretty comfortable. We saw each other often, and everytime we did, there were drugs involved. We had the type of conversations one has when high: long, profound talks about existence and its oddities from which, later on, you remember the feelings but not the words. Bottom line is, with each day that went by I liked her more and more.

The problem, yet the very essence of our relationship, started when I invited her to see me and the guys in one of our concerts instead of just staying home drug-buddying. I was scared that she wouldn’t come. But she did. And holy shit, she looked radiant in that dark dress. During the whole set, my fingers twitched just from looking at her, and thank God I was a guitarist and not a frontman, cause the boner would have been visible from the last row.

When I came up to her, except for a couple of beers, we were both pretty clean. Shortly after, though, I introduced her to my bandmates, except for Slash, who she already knew, and she became this bitchy little brat who only had snarky comments for everyone. She was a lot more mean than I remembered her, but as her bitterness spilled from her mouth, she teased me mercilessly. Her hands were persistently on my body in front of everyone. I had never, and I mean NEVER been handsy with a girl that wasn’t a groupie in public, it made me uncomfortable. But with her not only I didn’t mind it, I was enjoying.

The whole thing was messing me up so bad that I HAD TO get out of there, so I dragged her with me to the backstage:

- What the fuck are you doing?

- What? You don’t like it? - she said, sliding her hand down my torso.

- I…

But my dick spoke for me. I swear that little bastard has a life of its own. Long story short, we fucked. Our first time was in that changing room in the back of a den, and after that, it was a ride. We became addicted to each other, she was my speedball: heroin and her.

We felt the kind of deeply rooted connection that you can't explain with words because you don't really understand it either, it just happens. The problem was that its timeline mimicked our first weeks together. It worked something like this: when it was just the two of us we were mostly stoned, and when we were with other people, even though it wasn't as blatant as the first time, she was really petty, which led me to give her the silent treatment or something along those lines. That way we feeded the bomb that later, alone and sober, exploded. Then we would spend days without talking to each other and feeling miserable. Then she would cry and apologize. Then I would cry and apologize too. She usually apologized to the band as well, I think they must have taken a liking to her, cause they sometimes helped her get me back when I was being difficult. Then we would fuck and then we would get stoned and then… well, then back to the start. We were addicts in the highs and, oh God they were the highest. But as addicts, not even the lowest lows seemed like a good enough reason to quit.

That doesn't mean there aren't reasons to quit, though. About drugs, what did for me was the lockdown. It had been a while since I started feeling trapped in them, constraint. I didn’t like it anymore, it wasn’t fun, it wasn’t worth it. But then again, there was her. I had tried a lot of times to make her see that what we were doing was wrong, but she didn’t listen. She would just cling onto me or do anything in her power to distract me from the purpose. Honestly, a few times she almost convinced me that it was no big deal, but every time we fell into our original path I saw it more and more clearly: it was eventually going to kill us. Cause it does, it kills people all the time; at some point, your heart’s gonna pop or your mind’s gonna snap. I had to stop it, but I wasn’t gonna leave her stranded, she’d have to come out with me.

So there I was, driving to her house after she refused to pick up the phone and talk to me for the third time this morning, probably because she thought I was gonna start the hassling again. Well, she was right.

I rang the door and waited. I had a key she gave me like two months before, a few days after I gave her one of my own house, but I didn’t like to use it as much, it felt like invading her privacy. After a couple of moments there was no answer, so I rang again. Nothing. Now I rang and knocked the door several times, increasingly worried. Still nothing. After giving it a second thought, I took the key from my pocket and opened the door; it wasn’t locked, so she forcefully had to be at home.

The first thing I noticed was the darkness. All of the windows were closed, and the air was thick as if they hadn’t been open since forever. I called her. Twice. Three times. No answer. Ignoring the pounding in my chest and in my temples, I went upstairs. Something was terribly wrong. With a shaky hand, I opened the door to her room, where we had spent so many hours this last year, and when I turned on the light, I saw her.

She was on the bed, on top of the wrinkled sheets, wearing just her panties and a tank top. Her bones, peeking from below her skin, were more noticeable than the last time I had seen her. Her skin was as white as snow, with bluish lips and dark circles under her eyes. But, unlike the past few months, she didn’t look tired. Her lips weren’t contracted into a grimace of disenchantment; and as to her lids, instead of half-opened and revealing two weary eyes, they were closed, just closed; her expression was ultimately neutral. Her hair was sprawled all over the pillow, and her limbs, bent in an impossible way, framed her torso. But what striked me the most was the thin red line that crossed her forearm, all the way down to her hand; a stream of dried blood that started at the same point where a needle was hanging from.

Like an automaton, I walked to the bed and sat there, really carefully, as if I was trying not to wake her up. When I touched her with my own hand I had to pull it away immediately. She was cold. Very cold. And very still. I grabbed the blanket from the edge of the bed and placed it over her. She was still really cold. Slowly, without taking full consciousness of her, of me, of my surroundings, I put my head on her chest and laid there, looking at her doll-like face.

All I could hear was a hammer. It was all over the place and nowhere at all, I couldn’t place it anywhere. Was it her chest? Was it mine? Was it my head? Was it the clock in front of us? The sound swallowed me whole as I stayed there, unable to process, with my eyes open and a single tear sliding down my chin and to her body.

[thefangirlingbarista]

top 5/bottom 5 kudos fics

tagged by @thelittlefanpire. This was surprisingly fun for me, thanks for tagging! 

What are your five most popular works by kudos? (in descending order)

Shot in the Dark [188 Kudos, Complete, 1655 Words] For the tumblr prompt: Can u write a drabble based of the "I've been trying to flirt with you for the last 6 months?" Prompt?

And Maybe I’ll Grow Into You [186 Kudos, Complete, 58095 Words] Together they survive the first year. Bellamy spends less time at home, choosing instead to stay with either Miller or Murphy, and occasionally falling asleep on Clarke’s couch. Those nights were his favorites, and it only had a little to do with waking up to Jake making them waffles and omelets every morning. Sometimes on those mornings, Abby would have the day off, and she would give him a look that seemed like she saw something in him that he had yet to figure out. On those mornings, he couldn’t enjoy his breakfast or Clarke’s company nearly as much. A Bellarke Friends to Lovers AU 

Idolizing the Light in Your Eyes [183 Kudos, Complete, 1821 Words] All Clarke wants is for her boyfriend to meet her roommate, but everyone seems to think that Lincoln is just going to scare Bellamy away. Part 1 of the Once In A Lifetime Series 

Snow White [143 Kudos, Complete, 3995 Words] Bellamy isn't sure when his life became a Disney film, isn't sure what he did to make animals believe that he is some kind of safe place for them, but he doesn't really have any choice but to go with it. And if he uses this as an excuse to get with Clarke, well that's his business.

Coffee Kiosk [122 Kudos, Complete, 2951 Words] Bellamy is a security guard for the hospital; Clarke is a barista at the coffee kiosk. Harry Potter and Marvel discussions ensue.

What are your five least popular works by kudos? (in ascending order)

Affogato [5 Kudos, Complete, 1777 Words] Jasper 7:13 am Are u with bellamy Can u do be a solid And beg him not to kill me?Clarke 8:01 am ?? What? Part 3 of the Shot in the Dark series 

Without Fear Now [33 Kudos, Complete, 1751 Words] Clarke's POV for part 4 of AMIGIY

Plants are Friends [98 Kudos, Complete, 1965 Words] The one where Bellamy likes to name his plants, and Clarke manages to kill every plant she comes in contact with.

Doppio [104 Kudos, Complete, 1031 Words] Texts exchanged throughout the year between Clarke and Bellamy while they are at work. Part 2 of the Shot in the Dark series 

Devil in Your Smile [121 Kudos, Complete, 2029 Words] Lincoln has to somehow tell his best friend's boyfriend that he's dating his little sister. Linctavia/Bellarke. Part 2 of the Once In A Lifetime series. 

tagging: @marauders-groupie @kindclaws @bookwormforalways  and whoever else wants to do this! 

[lookbluesoup]

OC Interview Meme

Tagged by @tarberrymentats and @wastelandwandererstuff​ B)

SORRY IT TOOK ME A WHILE TO GET TO THIS GUYS spring break kept me busy xD But I AM BACK NOW AND READY TO ANSWER THESE TAGS THANK U ALL <33 It’s been a blast getting to read about everyone’s Fallout characters ;w; I’m trying to get braver about leaving comments/reblogs but in the meantime just know I SEE YOUR AWESOME CHARACTERS and I APPRECIATE THEM.

This was actually a challenge answering from Nate’s POV xD There’s stuff that I KNOW ABOUT HIM AND WANT TO SHARE but he wouldn’t volunteer or he wouldn’t view the same way so… take it for what it is! And feel free to ask questions! ;w;

It is long. Long long long. Not sorry. 16, 19, 28, and 33 are my favorites c;

1. What is your name?

Oh. Wow. We’re starting this interview off with some tough ones, hunh? Uhh… hm. My name. My name… Let me think. (overly dramatic pause) Nathaniel Christian Ronan? Yeah. That sounds right.

2. Do you know why are you named that?

I was told my name means “God has given,” because my parents didn’t actually think they’d be able to have a second kid. That and Pops was an army chaplain - wanted me to have a name reflecting the faith. He was very literal in his approach. Ronan is an Irish surname, which seemed a lot more important 200 years ago than it does today. It means… uh, oh, shoot, I used to know… Don’t worry, it’ll come to me.

3. Are you single or taken?

(chuckles) Sorry folks, my roving days are over. Got a nosy reporter waiting for me back in Diamond City... whatever time I’ve got left I’m giving it to her.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

Powers? What, like, superpowers? That’d be awesome but, hah, no. Though I’ve been told my ability to talk myself out of trouble is uncanny. My martinis were legendary, and still would be if I find the ingredients for them in this apocalyptic wasteland. Friends say I’ve got a good ear for music… Oh, and ventriloquism. That’s always fun.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

I know you are but what am I?

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue, like my grandmother. (blinks dramatically several times for emphasis)

7. How about your hair color?

Coal back. (runs a hand through it almost nervously) And holding up better than the rest of me, considering the complete lack of well-deserved grey hair.

8. Have any family members?

I have a son, Shaun. Piper gave me roots, and Nat’s pretty much my little sister, too, at this point. The Railroad’s been more family to me than most of my own blood ever was.

9. Oh? How about pets?

Legs Washington, an orphaned radstag I brought to the Castle. He’s a bit of a mascot for the men, follows Shaun everywhere. Yeah, it’s adorable.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

You guess? Look, after this interview, I’m taking you to the Castle to meet them yourself. Your life will be changed. There’s plenty to dislike about the Commonwealth, enough to go mad over. It’s not exactly the charming old homestead of days gone by. But we’re making it better one day at a time.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Hah! “Duck and Cover” is a big one. Got me suspended from Railroad HQ once, though. I still say that was Deacon’s fault. I like long walks through the woods, playing baseball with Shaun, and a General’s work is never done but it does bring fulfillment. I like all those activities infinitely better when Piper’s around. Is that mushy? God, that sounds mushy. (smiles shamelessly)

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Yeah. Some deserved it… some I’m still trying to make up for.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

(stops smiling) Yeah. I have. You want a kill count? Six-word soundbites about all the blood and screams and the way men look when they realize they’re about to die? It’s not a fun fact. It’s not fun. Next question.

14. Name your worst habits?

I’m afraid that information’s classified. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. OH! LITTLE SEAL. That’s what Ronan means! Yeah, you know, like, selkie babies.

15. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Aha… seriously? I’m Pipersexual, end of story. Unless you count the undying affection between my best mate Deacon, and me, which I’ve been told occasionally inspires jealousy. Honestly, I never gave putting a name to my romantic inclinations much thought. It’s always been women, but maybe I just never met the right man.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Piper, for sure. She’s - the way she sees the world? It gives me hope. She’s brave, brave enough to fight for what she believes in. No matter how bad it gets she always finds a light to hold onto, somehow, and keep going. And she’s genuine. I didn’t know what courage really was until I met her. Scribbles’ friendship is… a hell of a lot more than I deserve. I wouldn’t be the same without it. And, God, she’s funny. Sweet, and - a-ha, hm… we’d be here all day if I tried to list all the reasons why I love her.

I also have immense respect for Nick Valentine. He’s a good guy. Without ‘im, I might still be chasing my tail out in the woods somewhere. Or worse. Nick was a friend to me when I needed it most, put everything on the line to help me find my son - didn’t even hesitate. I’ll never be able to repay him for that.

17. What kind of animal are you?

One of a kind. (winks)

18. Do you go to school?

The Commonwealth has a way of schooling everyone, doesn’t it? I’m a bit too old for arithmetic and hall passes, but I never stop learning, if that’s what you mean.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

I’-ve… been down that road before. (breaks eye contact abruptly) Times were uncertain enough when Shaun was born. Now? Scribbles and I roll the dice every day of our lives. Asking her to marry me – starting over – was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. A baby would be, uh, a really big change. (smiles briefly, uncertain) Maybe if – no, I don’t know. Piper’s never shown any desire for something like that. If she did – even if she did... (sighs) I – look. Let’s just move on, okay?

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Oh yeah, I have an ensemble of groupies that follow me around the wasteland with a pack brahmin and an eyebot.They pitch my tent for me and cook all my meals. I pay for services with my autograph instead of caps. (rolls eyes, but keeps a smile)

21. What are you most afraid of?

Losing someone I love. I know we don’t get any guarantees out here in the wasteland, but… loss never gets any easier. It makes it hard to open up, y’know? I spent a long time keeping folks who cared about me at arm’s length, and some days it’s still a challenge.

22. What do you usually wear?

What you see is what you get! Derbys, slacks, a shirt as white as I can get it in these conditions, and a black vest, because that never goes out of style. My favorite hat is - take a look at this. It’s a bicorne. Has anyone worn that since the French Revolution? It’s great. I love it. Piper doesn’t.

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

You know what I miss? Chocolate. I’d kill for chocolate. … kidding.

24. Am I annoying to you?

Hah! I married a journalist. This is just another Tuesday.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Look, if I’m not back by seven…

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I mean… it’s not like anyone’s ‘wealth’ compares to what it was like before the war. I’m not living off charred molerat, but I certainly won’t be moving into the Upper Stands anytime soon. Most of what I have, I made myself.

27. How many friends do you have?

More than I deserve. Piper and Deacon are probably my two best friends though. Nick, Preston, and Kent oughta be mentioned, too.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

You mean those damn perfectly preserved slices stuck in the Port-A-Diners? God, I’ve tried everything. I spent an entire afternoon trying to break in. What is the glass even made of? I couldn’t put a scratch on it. You have to just keep pushing the button. Over and over. I’m convinced it’s all some Vault-Tec conspiracy. There is no pie. The pie is a lie. Piper says she managed it once, but I don’t believe her.

29. Favorite drink?

Nuka cherry! No question.

30. What’s your favorite place?

There’s a spot up at the top of Diamond City. I mean the top top, even higher than the Stands. Clear night with a full moon? You can see for miles. Can’t be beat.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

You’ve - been listening, right? Aha, was I unclear about being madly in love?

32. That was a stupid question…

You’d be surprised how often it gets asked. (chuckles)

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

Lake. Definitely. I’m marginally less likely to get eaten there. That being said, I was up in Maine once, went out to pick lure weed. You know, those radioactive yellow flowers that grow in muddy ponds? Bad idea.Terrible idea. Maine is a terrible place and I will not be building a summer home there e-ver.

34. What’s your type?

Kickass reporters with the brightest hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, hair like Aphrodite, and a smile to make you melt.

35. Any fetishes?

Look, you’re very nice. Really. And I appreciate the interest, but ah, this isn’t any of your business. Only one person gets to ask me about those and - you aren’t her.

36. Camping or outdoors?

Camping? Oh man, those were the days. An RV trip would be the bomb. It’s not much of an option these days. But I’m used to sleeping rough, and I gotta admit, it has its charm.

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter IX: In The Morning You’ll Be Gone

masterlist | playlist | chapter viii

summary: Friends is a heavy word for you and eddie. things are off to a weird start as you spend some time reconnecting after your show in vegas.

tags/warnings: slow burn, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, gn!reader, angst is slightly lighter this time, but obviously still there!! these two are horrible at feelings btw if that wasn’t obvious.

a/n: let me know what you think! i have a loooot of ideas swimming around right now, but i wanna hear ur input! love u guys sm, thank u for reading! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

September 1987

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie kicks the door to your shared apartment open, the old wood creaking under his heavy boots.

The ruckus summons you to the entryway. You speed walk from your master bedroom, where you’ve been spending your nights without your boyfriend. The house already feels warmer with him inside. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, running into his arms. He lifts you into the air, spinning you around like a husband home from war.

When he places you back in front of him, you refuse to let go. You lock your hands around his neck, and pull his face into yours to connect your lips. He relaxes against your touch, finally settling the yearning in his stomach. It’s been two long months of Eddie on tour, and you had refused to come because you didn’t want to be his “groupie.” You still haven’t told him how stupid that decision was. Regardless, it doesn’t matter now. He’s home, and he’s in your arms, exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“How are you, love of mine?”

“Never better, now that you’re home.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It’s probably the best he's ever performed, much to his own surprise. He's played Las Vegas before, but something about his own energy has brought the best out of the crowd. By the end of the set, Eddie’s shirtless, drenched in sweat, and practically deaf, but the excitement roaring through him makes it all worth it. He’d caught you watching too, standing on the side of the stage right up against the barricade like you’d used to when you were dating. He couldn’t help stealing glances throughout the show, catching you singing and dancing along like you were still his biggest fan.

Back in the band’s dressing room, Corroded Coffin light cigarettes and joints while beer bottles are cracked open, an atmosphere of relaxation settling in after what feels like years of being on edge. Much of that probably has to do with their frontman being in a good mood. Eddie sips his beer as he chats with Gareth, who’s puffing on a joint dangerously close to frying his hair.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” Gareth jokes, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. “You finally get laid or something?” Eddie snorts in response, ignoring the question. “C’mon, you gotta let me know what’s got you performing like that again. I haven’t seen you this in-the-zone since— “ Gareth stops himself, but Eddie knows where he’s going. He hasn’t performed like that since you broke up with him. Gareth doesn’t push him, but his eyes communicate his question.

“We aren’t back together, don’t freak out like that.” Eddie answers the unspoken inquiry, indulging his friend. “But we talked. Amicably, even. We decided we’re gonna try the whole friend thing. For real, this time.”

“And you’re okay with that? Just being friends?” Gareth’s concern is written on his face, and for good reason. You and Eddie tried being friends after breaking up, but it was always falling apart, probably due to not giving yourselves time to heal.

Eddie nods. “I am. It’s bound to be better than not having them in my life at all. I know it’s gonna be difficult, but I’m selfish. I don’t wanna be without them again.”

Gareth nods, taking another swig of his beer. “Good luck, man. Seriously. They were so good for you, I just hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

He has, he’s almost sure of it. If given the chance, Eddie’s gonna show you just how grateful he is for you, just how much he cherishes you. He fucked up, badly, when you were together, but now that he knows what life without you is like, he’s sure he never wants to experience it again.

He's pulled from his thoughts when the dressing room door opens, and you enter with Steve and your band, dressed down from your set. You’re wearing sweatpants and, what Eddie is almost sure, is his old Metallica t-shirt. It’s faded, worn beyond recognition even when he had possession of it, but you still look incredible. Your hair is piled on top of your head, with little stray pieces hanging in front of your face. You catch him looking at you, and give him the smallest of smiles. He returns it with a gleaming grin, one that makes his cheeks ache, but he doesn’t care. You’re here, willingly, in his dressing room, hanging out with him and his band. Almost like nothing has changed in the last two years, even though you’re on your way to being one of the biggest bands in the world. Bigger than CC, even.

You shuffle further into the crowded room while Steve corrals the stragglers standing out in the hall. He’s about to give another rousing Manager Speech, so Eddie kicks his feet up on the small table in front of the couch as you place yourself on the arm closest to him. Your bandmates make themselves comfortable, and he dares to look at Robin, who lets a smile slip from her lips, and it’s like the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders. You must have filled her in by now. Maybe he has a chance to get all of his friends back.

Steve finally approaches the rest of you, standing in the middle of the room while the excitement dies down. “Alright!” He claps his hands together, summoning everyone’s attention finally. “We’re hitting the road for Oregon shortly, I need everyone back on their bus by 2AM. You guys were incredible tonight, I’m so proud of all of you.” Steve looks to Eddie, then you as he says this, his praise directly targeted at his front people. “Til then, do as you please, and call me if things get out of hand. Thank you!” The room erupts in chatter as Steve approaches the couch, followed closely by Robin. “I would love an explanation for this, by the way.” Steve wags his finger between you two, still sitting close enough to touch, without actually touching. “Whenever you feel like telling me.” He looks to Eddie, who bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He almost breaks until he feels a hand on him. Your hand, gentle and warm, rests atop his bare shoulder, like the most casual thing in the world, and he can’t bring himself to move, worrying the moment would be broken.

“Don’t worry about us, Stevie. We’re being good.” Your voice is teasing, and clearly worn from your set. Eddie fights the urge to look up at you, knowing one glance will break his fragile composure. Your fingers tap against his clavicle, sticking to him slightly due to the sweat. He clears his throat as quietly as he can, trying his best not to let your touch send him into a spiral.

Steve shrugs. “Alright! Be back by two, please.” With that, Steve leaves the dressing room.

—

Your POV

By now the room is empty, save for you, Eddie, and Robin. You desperately hope they can’t see through your confident facade. Inside, you’re shaking, having felt Eddie’s skin on yours for the second time today. Everything is confusing, you have no idea where the two of you are headed. It feels new and exciting now, getting Eddie back, but it also feels fragile. One wrong move will send you back to square one, and you’re not willing to start over again.

It’s Robin who breaks the silence first. “So, we goin’ out tonight? Or do you two forget how to party together?”

You squint your eyes at her joke, and turn to finally look at Eddie. “You wanna party?” You hope desperately that this isn’t the worst idea ever.

Eddie nods, beaming. You get off the arm of the couch, stumbling less than gracefully to your feet. “Awesome. I’m gonna go change, meet us in the back in like, twenty minutes!” You and Robin scurry out of the dressing room, giggling to yourselves.

“So,” Robin starts as you rush to your dressing room, where Sylvie and Lilith sit chatting on the couch, the small TV providing background noise. “You gonna tell Steve about you and Ed?” Her question silences the rest of the band.

“You better tell us first!” Sylvie shrieks, getting to their feet. “What the hell was all that, even?”

Lilith joins them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you two were almost being friendly in there.”

You lift your, well Eddie’s, t-shirt over your head, swapping it for a tighter, smaller black one, and change out of your sweats and into some light wash, baggy jeans. “There’s nothing to explain, really.” You turn to face your friends. “We talked about what he said. He apologized, and we’re trying the friend thing.” Lilith rolls her eyes, and Sylvie shakes their head. “What?” you ask, exasperated.

Robin speaks for them. “We just know how that’s gonna go, babes. One of you is gonna… I dunno, slip up? Like last time?” When you don’t offer her an answer, Robin continues, pouring both of you a pre game drink. “You guys just aren’t meant to be friends. You’d tear each other apart before you could get to genuine, platonic friendship. You’re not, well, Steve and I.” The last bit is meant as a joke, you know, but it stings a little. You hope they’re not right, that you can be friends with Eddie without destroying you both.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You shrug, and yank your boots on. “For now, I just wanna drink.” You take your vodka soda from Robin and throw it down your throat, as if to emphasize your desperation.

—

You, Robin, Eddie, and Steve pile into the back of a cab, all of you already tipsy. Steve’s decided to chaperone, and you can’t really argue considering the circumstances. He sits between you and Eddie, a knee against one of each of yours. The four of you are in casual attire, on your way to a club on the Strip you’ve never heard of. It feels like high school, almost, minus the whole “being in a band touring with a household name” thing. It feels comfortable, sitting between Steve and Robin, with Eddie on Steve’s other side, on your way to get drinks and finally just hang out. No drama, no worries, no screaming fans. A break.

When the car pulls up, Robin climbs out and holds the door for the rest of you. You link your arm through hers, and she links her other arm with Steve. You look at Eddie, standing next to you with his arms firmly at his sides, and offer your free arm. His lips split into a smile, and he links his arm with yours, causing your heart to surge. Friends.

There’s some truth to Robin’s words. You know you’ll probably love Eddie forever, way more than you just would a friend, but you can’t force yourself back into that relationship. You don’t know what your feelings for him are anymore, you just know you have them. And having them is dangerous, especially now that you’re both terribly successful and there’s no way you two could ever work it out.

—

Eddie’s POV

All he’s aware of is your shoulder against his as the four of you squeeze through the dark nightclub. The music is deafening, Jump Around by House of Pain shaking the whole building. He wants a drink. Really, he wants to leave, and go watch a bad movie on the bus, or reread The Hobbit for the fifth time this year. But those things don’t have you in a really tight t-shirt, so instead he’s waddling uncomfortably between sweaty bodies, following closely behind you as you make your way to the bar.

“What’re you having?” He reads your lips more than hears you, squinting to make out what you’re saying in the dark room.

“I’ll take a beer, whatever they have.” Eddie feels his voice rasp as he shouts over the music, but you nod like you’ve heard him anyway. He watches as you order, leaning on the bar so the tender; a good looking dude with salt and pepper hair, a good body, and tight fitting clothes, can hear you over the ruckus. You flirt with your posture, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as you lean in to speak to him. He nods, winking at you before walking away to retrieve your drinks. Eddie can't help the burning in his chest as he watches the interaction, fighting every urge to jump over the counter and beat the guy senseless. Not that he’d be able to, the dude is jacked.

It takes almost no time for you to turn around, coming face to face with Eddie, your nose far too close to his chest. “Here,” you hand him his bottle, and he reads the label.

“They had Red Stripe?” Still his favorite, and only ever found in the crevices of the dingiest liquor stores.

You shrug. “Vegas has everything! C’mon, let’s go find the others.” You take his hand, and Eddie looks at it, a fraction of a second too long before taking it.Despite his hesitation, holding your hand still feels right.

The two of you finally find Robin and Steve, drunkenly grooving on the dance floor, both with a drink in hand. Eddie scoffs at their shamelessness, and looks at you. He’s on edge, unsure of what your next suggestion will be.

“You wanna dance?” Is the last thing he’s expecting.

—

Your POV

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but it doesn’t deter you from slapping a hand over your mouth.

Eddie’s head whips in your direction, like you’ve startled him. “What?” This is your chance, your way out. Say something else, say anything else. “Do you wanna dance?” Shit! You watch as a smile threatens his tight lipped expression, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards despite his hold on them.

“Sure.” Sure?! Guess we’re doing this! You realize neither of you have let go of the other’s hand. You look from your clasped fingers, to his face, and back again before exhaling, and dragging your ex boyfriend to the dance floor. Robin and Steve see you and wave you over. The walk to them is dreadfully long, your hand sticking to Eddie’s with your sweat. Gross.

“Look who decided to join us!” Steve slurs as he twirls Robin under his arm.

“Steve, I thought you were chaperoning?” You tease, rolling your eyes as you feel Eddie’s fingers let go of yours. Your hand feels cold again.

“Chaperones can have fun too, y’know!” He pokes your arm jokingly, like he’s trying to tip you over. “And if chaperones can’t have fun, so can the, uh,”

“Chaperonees!” Robin interrupts, helpfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Chaperonees! Now, would ya not look so miserable? You know I worry!” Steve drapes an arm around your shoulder as you laugh, enjoying his mood.

“I am having fun!” You exclaim, taking another gulp of your cocktail.

Eddie sips his beer, as if in solidarity. “C’mon, let these two dorks compete to see who can be the worst dancer here.” He takes your hand in his again, this time without the weird tiptoeing around it, and you turn to face him. The song has changed to Def Leppard’s Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad, drastically changing the vibe. Robin and Steve continue to spin and jive aimlessly, but they blur in comparison to Eddie, standing right in front of you.

The drinks flowing through you do their job, lowering your inhibitions and giving you courage. You gently rest your arms around Eddie’s neck, and feel him tense at your touch before fully relaxing. His hands are still by his sides though, so you look from his eyes, to where they hang uselessly. “You’re not gonna melt, y’know.” You joke, but Eddie doesn’t laugh.

“Honestly, I might.” The words shoot through you, and you can feel your cheeks blush. It seems to rouse him from his anxiety, though, as he slowly lifts his arms to rest a hand on either side of your waist. Maybe he won’t melt, but you’re almost sure you will.

—

Eddie’s POV

There is no way he’s surviving tonight. He is one hundred percent certain you will be his cause of death, and that it will be painful, unbearable even. He lets himself look into your eyes, just for a second. They shine as you look back into his, narrowing the way they do when you smile. Eddie hasn’t received a smile from you like that in what feels like a lifetime.

As he’s losing himself in the way your hands rest around him, clasped together at the nape of his neck, he’s brought back down to earth. A bright, sudden light comes from behind him, illuminating your features for a split second. Your eyes widen, and your arms fall back to your sides.

“Eddie! Y/n! Over here!” Eddie whips his head around in time to catch a second flash, temporarily blinding him. He recognizes the culprit, a local paparazzo hell bent on torturing the members of the metal scene.

“Gale,” Eddie tries to remain calm, his heart rate skyrocketing as worst case scenarios flip through his head. “You can’t sell that.”

“I can do whatever I please, Munson!” Gale is slimy, never once giving his subjects a break. Because “he has to eat too.”

Your voice startles Eddie as you speak. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

Gale shrugs, “Sell it, make a quick buck. If I’m lucky, they’ll use it when they speculate on your love life.” He chuckles to himself, waggling his eyebrows. Before anyone can stop him, Gale lifts the camera a third time. “Smile big!” Flash.

Regardless of how badly Eddie wants to rip that camera out of his hands and throw it across the club, he doesn’t. That look doesn’t suit him, especially in front of you, and he’s not in the mood to catch a charge. Instead he pivots back to you. “What do you wanna do about this?”

You don’t seem bothered, in fact you’re uncharacteristically calm about the situation. “Whatever you want, it doesn’t bother me that much. There are worse rumors that could spread. Plus, you and I know the truth, right?”

Eddie only blinks, hoping his thoughts will catch up with his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I can call a guy. Get that picture wiped off the face of the earth.”

“If you want. Don’t stress on my account, though.” You go so far as to replace your hands around him, and Eddie’s breath catches, holding it for a millisecond too long. “It isn’t the end of the world.”

Eddie gingerly places his hands back on your waist, but neither of you dance as the song is replaced with Metallica’s Don’t Tread On Me. His brain is sprinting, trying to catch up with what’s happening.

“You’re not embarrassed?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean, not by you, but-“ He stops himself. But what? You’re waiting for him to continue, staring at him unblinkingly. “I asked you first.”

You look at your feet, concentrating on the ground between you two. Eddie’s heart sinks, of course you’re embarrassed. There’s a reason you’re not together anymore. “I mean, this is what fame is, right? Rumors being spread about you? Untrue things being said? It’s not really any different than high school.” You laugh sadly, still not meeting his gaze.

“That doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Eddie lowers his voice, leaning to speak into your ear. He thinks he catches you stiffen, startled by his sudden closeness.

Finally, you shake your head. “I’m not. You don’t embarrass me, Eddie. Not lately, anyway.” This time your chuckle sounds more like you, and Eddie lets one slip through his own teeth.

“Alright. I’ll leave it, then.”

“So you’re not-“

“No, I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed. I'd tell everyone that rumor if I could.” He catches himself by surprise with his answer, but he doesn’t backpedal.

You look at him, finally. “What?”

Eddie shrugs. “Worse things have been said than that I’m dating my cowork— I mean, my friend.” He shows his teeth despite his nerves, trying to reassure you that this won’t be a big deal. “Even if that does happen, by the way, no one’s gonna believe it. You’re too good for that.”

—

Your POV

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re quickly interrupted. “We need to go. Now.” Steve and Robin are stumbling all over each other as they approach you, their fingers interlaced as if holding onto dumb or dumber will somehow save them from tripping.

“What? Why?” Your voice breaks with panic, whether from this current event or the one shortly before, you’re not sure.

“We kind of uh, knocked an entire tray of booze over while we were dancing.” Robin can’t get her sentence out without giggling hysterically.

“Turns out some big wig is here, and he’s pissed.” Steve adds, snickering between shallow breaths. “Guy’s a douche anyway, but he wants us gone. Security’s lookin’ for us.”

“For once, I'm not the one to get us kicked out!” Eddie cheers, and grabs your hand. “Let’s go!” The four of you haul ass through the club. You don’t know how drastic the measures are, but your heart still races. The night air hits you as the club door swings open, your ride already idling against the curb. The four of you pile in, borderline maniacal laughter erupting from each of you.

“You fucking assholes!” You shriek, but your tone remains playful. “I was having a good time!”

Eddie looks to you then, and you share a quiet acknowledgement with him. You aren’t lying, you were having fun. By the looks of if, he was too.

“Well, we’re sorry. We have three whole months of fun ahead of us. I’m sure you’ll make up for this time.” Steve lets his head fall onto your shoulder, and You pat his cheek with your free hand. The other still hangs onto Eddie’s, his thumb stroking the top of it idly.

“I forgive you, Stevie.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It takes less than 24 hours for the story to break. He’s on the bus, half asleep as his bandmates circle his tiny bed the best they can. “What the hell?” He sits up, rubbing his eyes as the men before him come into focus. “What’s going on?”

“You tell us, player.” Jeff tosses something onto Eddie’s stomach, and it lands with a slap against his bare skin. He grabs it, and investigates the cover of what looks like a knock off National Inquirer. The headline reads, in big obnoxious font, MUNSON’S NEW BOO? Underneath the text is the picture from last night. His back is to the photographer, but you can still tell it’s him. He’s wearing a denim vest and black jeans, his hair sticking up like it tends to do. Over his shoulder, he can make out your features. Your sparkly eyes, freckled cheeks, and pouty lips. You’re looking at him like you love him, your hands around his neck, his resting on your hips.

“This is not what it looks like.” His voice doesn’t waver. Eddie thinks about what you said. You’re not embarrassed by him, so why would he be embarrassed by you?

Gareth shrugs. “It’s okay if it is, y’know. As long as you’re gonna do it right this time.” Jeff nods in agreement.

“Nothing is going on! We’re friends!”

“Right, right. Because that totally just looks like two friends.”

Eddie looks at the picture again. It’s a good picture of you, and he selfishly wants to tear it out of the magazine and stuff it into his wallet. He wants to keep it close to him. Gareth is right, but that doesn’t change the facts. Friends are all you are.

“Does Y/N know?” Jeff interrupts Eddie’s train of thought.

“I mean, I just found out.”

“Yes, but you sleep like the dead. We’ve been in Portland for three hours.”

“They know the picture was taken. I’m sure they’re expecting this.”

“Alright, man. Now get your ass up, soundcheck in an hour.”

—

Your POV

You read the words over and over again, begging them to make sense. “Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin, spotted snuggling up to Death Dance Approximately vocalist Y/n L/n. The two are currently on a cross country tour together, playing clubs and amphitheaters in North America.”

“What are you gonna do?” Lilith sticks another home fry in her mouth, keeping her eyes on you.

You shrug, tossing the magazine back onto the table. “Nothing I can really do about it now, I'm not too concerned.”

“They’re not concerned because they wish it was true!” Robin interjects, sliding into the booth next to you, a fresh coffee in her hands.

“Excuse you?”

“Please, since the day I met you, Eddie Munson has been the only guy for you. Ever. Don’t tell me that’s changed now.” You don’t look at her, and that gives her your answer. “So, we leave it, and we make sure it’s a prophecy we can fulfill!” She slurps a sip of her drink, and you scoff.

“We just got to friends. Give it a rest!”

“Okay!” Robin throws up her hands. “But I’m calling it now, you’ll be in his pants before we hit the east coast.”

You roll your eyes, and turn back to your breakfast. “Whatever.”

—

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