#who grew up tabloid famous as 'Night Boy' and is now really into having his privacy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

headkiss · 1 year ago

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you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

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uptochxnce · 4 months ago

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[ LEE DOHYUN, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] — i’m pretty sure that was just CHANCE CHOI of THE RICH AND FAMOUS that just passed by. the TWENTY-SEVEN year old ACTOR has been a resident here in the upper east side for FIVE YEARS. they’re known for being WITTY & DEBONAIR, but i overheard someone mention they’re also SLY & IMPULSIVE…considering they’re an SCORPIO i think there might be some truth to it. but maybe that’s just because they’re always worried someone might find out about REDACTED. something about them has always reminded me of THE SMELL OF THE OCEAN, SUNLIGHT FLITERING THROUGH YOUR FINGERS, ICED COFFEE ON A HOT DAY but maybe that’s just because they like to PAINT & DECORATE in their free time.

QUICK STATS

nickname(s): n/a

gender: cis man

pronouns: he/him

age: 27

dob: nov 15th 1996

pob: los angeles california

orientation: bi-sexual (closeted)

social group: the rich and famous

APPEARANCE

height: 5'10"

build: lean/muscular

ethnicity: korean

eye colour: brown

hair colour: black

notable features: cute smile

style: casual (but in designer clothes)

tattoos: n/a

piercings: n/a

PERSONALITY

positive traits: witty, debonair, kind, charming,

negative traits: sly, impulsive, selfish, needy, reckless

likes: late night drives, italian food, hot baths, swimming, painting, decorating

dislikes: heatwaves, the smell of cooked onions, spicy food, ketchup

CAREER & EDUCATION

current occupation: actor

past occupation(s): n/a

degree(s): n/a

BIOGRAPHY

tw: sex, drugs as the son of a famous hollywood director, no one was surprised when chance appeared in his first movie when he was barely three years old; doe-eyed and confused, his father feeding him every line with a proud smile on his face. yet somehow he thrived, many claiming it was because his mother had been a popular actress back in south korea so it must have run in his blood. by the time he turned 10 he’d been in more movies than he could possibly remember, he was hollywood’s favourite child star, a nepo baby beloved by the world for his adorable appearance and natural skill. it was only by luck (and perhaps good genetics) that he aged into an attractive young man, growing out of his boyish charms and showing the world he was destined to be a successful leading man. yet a chance grew up he lived a rather particular and unusual life. he never attended a real school, his classroom had been in a trailer on set alongside other child actors. the only prom he ever attended was in a movie, and he’d grown up put on a pedestal, his privacy non-existence, invaded by masses of fans and paparazzi trying to get the latest scoop on hollywood’s Golden Boy. but chance kept his good reputation despite that, he was known for being kind albeit a bit oblivious at times. yet as he began to get older, this pressure of perfection slowly began to weigh him down, leaving him confused as to if he really knew who he was, or if he’d just been conditioned into the person he was raised to be. this may have been how he slowly began to resent his perfect image, starting to allow his impulses to take control. pictures of him partying at clubs began to flood the tabloids, his arms wrapped around a new pretty girl every few months. it was like he wanted to show the world he wasn’t the golden child they wanted him to be, he was adult, he was messy, he was human just like them, he could make mistakes. and mistakes he certainly did make. being rich and famous meant the world was all but on a silver platter for him, his ‘friends’ encouraged his bad habits, from sex to drugs, he let himself go wild, ultimately ending up in more than one scandal, getting labelled as an ex-child star now acting out to seem mature. it took damage control from his PR team to clean up his reputation, though behind closed doors chance was still the same mess he’d grown to be. yet to the rest of the world, he was back on screen, starring in blockbusters and charming fans with his sweet smile.

HEADCANONS

he is bisexual, with no lean in either direction. however, he’s never publicly been in a relationship with a man because he’s worried about his reputation as an actor.

as a child chance got his start acting because his father used to put him in his films, which eventually lead to him getting speaking roles

he’s acted in most genres as a teen/young adult he’s did a lot of YA franchises. but now as an adult he favours acting in action films and dramas.

he has many accolades and has been nominated for several oscars, but only won once.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

childhood friend: someone else who may have grown up in entertainment industry, they could have acted in the same film or just known each other by chance.

best friend: someone in around the same age as him that he trusts with the wold, and may be one of the few people who know his secret

celebrity status: another celebrity he may have worked with whether in a film, or as brand ambassadors for something

old sweethearts: they have previous had a very public relationship, and while they dated they were beloved by the press. but may have broken up due to schedule or personal differences.

publicity stunt: someone he had a PR relationship with, which may have been beneficial to them both (brought them publicity for dating a celebrity, and may have been a cover for him from a recent scandal)

#wealth_intro #drugs tw

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elxctrics · 1 year ago

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"i only call you when it's half past five, the only time that i'll be by your side. i only love it when you touch me, not feel me, when i'm fucked up, that's the real me."

(—) ★ spotted!! peroz ‘phoenix’ balik on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 32 year old looks like can yaman but i don’t really see it. while dj/club owner is known for being magnetic my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be conniving i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the hills by the weeknd {he/him / cismale} - penned by CANDICE, 26, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER

˗ˏˋ ＊ ‣ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 :

connections || musings || instagram || headcanons

age: thirty two

nicknames: nix, wolf

date of birth: october 30th, 1992

astrological sign: scorpio

place of birth: bel air, california

occupation: dj / club owner

label: the casanova

positive traits: focused, determined, charming, diligent

negative traits: manipulative, selfish, apathetic, conniving

characters/celebrities he’s like: dennis reynolds from it’s always sunny in philadelphia, chuck bass from gossip girl, klaus mikaelson from the vampire diaries, john mayer

career claim : calvin harris

𝓫𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂

born and raised in las vegas, nevada to a restauranter for a father and a celebrity party planner for a mother, it’s safe to say that peroz’s life has been nothing but one, big giant party.

with his father having a chain of luxury restaurants on the vegas strip in all of the most luxurious hotels and his mother rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, peroz fell in love with the night life far earlier than he probably should have.

workaholics and always working on their latest big project left peroz to his own devices more often than not - and a kid with money and nothing but time on his hands was a dangerous thing in sin city.

wickedly smart, but never applying himself in school, he used those smarts for other things - selling drugs on the low, making fake ids for his friends, bribing his way into the hottest nightclubs when he was underage, always with a knack to scheme and lie his way into whatever he wanted.

he’s always had laser focus, liking to turn the mundane into something extraordinary, and when he wasn’t running around the vegas strip causing trouble, he was in his room, headphones in, making remake mixes to some of the world’s most popular songs.

he began making youtube videos of his music when he realized that college wasn’t an option for him, considering he was rarely in school, and his videos and remixes garnished millions and millions of views

using his mother’s connections, he began to get djing gigs at all the most popular nightclubs on the vegas strip, eventually being a headliner himself.

partying and hanging out with celebrities every single night was exactly the life he wanted for himself. he craved a constant good time, forever wanting to be a peter pan boy that never grew up, and he soon realized that this career path was it.

instead of just making mixes, he began producing songs for popular artists and every time he did, they ended up at the top of the charts, which caused him to move to los angeles and take on a celebrity status, under his stage name, ‘phoenix’

never wanting anyone to tell him what to do, he started his own record label - that literally only produces his music and collaborations with other artists called ‘fly guy records.’

now, not only is he one of the biggest djs in the world, but he’s also an entrepreneur, and has opened two nightclubs - sound nightclub in downtown los angeles & hakkasan in los vegas.

there’s not a humble bone in his body, a true nepo baby who’s gotten nothing but praise for doing the bare minimum his entire life, he’s used his clout and fame to get him anything, and anyone he wants.

he’s a non-committal kind of man, bored easily and treats women like they’re disposable, but will put on the charming act to get what he wants out of them.

sickly sweet to get what he wants, once he does, a switch flips and he can become the most cold person you’ve ever met, but he simply doesn’t care - the world is his chessboard and everyone is merely a pawn to him in this game that he calls life.

#phoenix #hillzintro

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fvkford · 2 years ago

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(—) ★ spotted!! FORD ANDERSON on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 26 year old looks like CHASE STOKES, but i don’t really see it. while the ROCK STAR is known for being CHARITABLE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be WRECKLESS. i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA BY OASIS { cismale - he/him } - penned by SOPHIE, 26, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER

ford was a boy with a dream, well he was a part of group of boys with a dream to be famous, to have girls shouting their name and tour busses that would drive them across the country. it might not have helped that he was the first miracle to his moms, their darling boy born through IVF. despite siblings that came after him and an older sister from one of his moms first marriage ford was something different to them, he was hope they’d be able to bring a family together after all.

through school and college, his moms did everything they could to encourage him and his passions, even if that meant watching him play every friday night on the field or listening to him bang out his drum solo’s till 10pm. his sisters thought that he was an absolute menace but even they loved their brother and were powerless against his charm.

then when he was 18, rather than follow his path to college which he could have easily done he along with three of his best friends did everything they could to make their band, the hot slice, make it big, busking, talents shows, but it was only when they scored the opening act of no direction did they hit it big time. suddenly everyone knew their name and the drummer was living his dream. he was suddenly away from home, he was touring, he had more girls throwing themselves at him than he could count at just the tender age of 19. his life was perfect.

only not really, because he wasn’t the front and centre of all of the attention, he wanted to be freddie not the back up band and so after four successful years with the band at 23 ford shocked everyone and left, making it out on his own - the man went and up and zayned himself.

his first solo album did plenty well and there was even a small state wide tour that did well enough, he had a pretty girlfriend and all the attention he could want. with more commercials coming his way, appearances and partying and girls, the fame only grew, the bigger rock stars were paying attention to little old ford anderson.

fords music career is now something of magic, platinum awards line his walls, he has new tours lined up every year. life in the hillz is good for him. not even a little sex tape that he accidentally recorded and released recently was enough to stop the women from flocking to his shows. with a wrap on touring for a while ford is home, writing new music, filming the new music videos and even a little PR relationship is in the works to see if people can bring him under control.

he will do it too, despite the parties and the accidental cheating, fords a good guy, he flirts with the girls for the pennies but who doesn’t? the rockstar you meet on stage is only a small part of the man you meet in person.

#intro.#cheating tw.

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hvneybxns · 10 months ago

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(—) ★ spotted!! FORD DAVI ANDERSON on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 28 year old looks like CHAY SEUDE , but i don’t really see it. while the ROCK STAR is known for being CHARITABLE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be WRECKLESS. i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA BY OASIS { cismale - he/him }

ford was a boy with a dream, well he was a part of group of boys with a dream to be famous, to have girls shouting their name and tour busses that would drive them across the country. it might not have helped that he was the first miracle to his moms, their darling boy born through IVF with a donor from brazil offering them their chance at children of their own. despite siblings that came after him and an older sister from one of his moms first marriage ford was something different to them, he was hope they’d be able to bring a family together after all.

#ford anderson | intro

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rxscss · 2 years ago

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"𝒾 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓁𝒻-𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓋𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾'𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒. 𝒾 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝑒, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓂𝑒. 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼'𝓂 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝓂𝑒."

𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼

wanted connections + connections || musings || pinterest || instagram || headcanons

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

age: thirty two

nicknames: nix, wolf

date of birth: october 31st, 1992

astrological sign: scorpio

place of birth: bel air, california

occupation: dj / club owner

label: the casanova

positive traits: focused, determined, charming, diligent

negative traits: manipulative, selfish, apathetic, conniving

characters/celebrities he’s like: dennis reynolds from it’s always sunny in philadelphia, chuck bass from gossip girl, klaus mikaelson from the vampire diaries, john mayer

career claim : calvin harris

𝓫𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂

born and raised in las vegas, nevada to a restauranter for a father and a celebrity party planner for a mother, it’s safe to say that peroz’s life has been nothing but one, big giant party.

using his mother’s connections, he began to get djing gigs at all the most popular nightclubs on the vegas strip, eventually being a headliner himself.

never wanting anyone to tell him what to do, he started his own record label - that literally only produces his music and collaborations with other artists called ‘fly guy records.’

now, not only is he one of the biggest djs in the world, but he’s also an entrepreneur, and has opened two nightclubs - sound nightclub in downtown los angeles & hakkasan in los vegas.

he’s a non-committal kind of man, bored easily and treats women like they’re disposable, but will put on the charming act to get what he wants out of them.

𝓬��𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓻

music career (notable releases)

feel so close

sweet nothing

miracle

summer

this is what you came for

outside

slide

how deep is your love

we found love

i need your love

my way

rollin

spectrum

blame

promises

under control

pray to god

feels

one kiss

bounce

thinking about you

let’s go

faking it

heatstroke

#hillzhqsintro #phoenixbalik

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lexitxylor · 4 years ago

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introducing LEXI *:･ﾟ✧*

* IMOGEN POOTS, FEMALE + SHE/HER | you know LEXI TAYLOR, right? they’re TWENTY-SIX, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, THEIR WHOLE LIFE? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to DON’T STOP ME NOW BY QUEEN like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole MIDNIGHT TRIPS THROUGH TOWN JUST TO ADMIRE THE NEON LIGHTS, A MILLION PROJECTS TO FINISH BUT CAN’T FIND HER FAVORITE PEN, AND MAKING OUT WITH STRANGERS IN THE BATHROOM OF THE ROLLER RINK thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is DECEMBER 10TH, so they’re a SAGITTARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( michaela, 23, pst, she/her )

STATS.

full name: lexi jo taylor nicknames: lex, lo lo (from her mom) age: twenty-six. date of birth: december 10th, 1994. hometown: irving, nc. current location: irving, nc. gender: cis woman. pronouns: she/her. religion: none. occupation: filmmaker. orientation: chaotic bisexual relationship status: single for about a week residence: second story one bedroom in delphinus heights. education: high school diploma

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

hair color / style: bleached blonde, with her natural brunette roots growing in. messy waves, bangs. eye color: green. height: 5'4″. tattoos: canis lupus (fantastic mr. fox) on her inner right wrist, california wildflowers on her left ribcage. piercings: ring on right nostril, double lobes, had a navel but took it out a few years ago.

HEALTH.

allergies: most antibiotics. sleeping habits: rarely. likes to be out late, but can’t sleep past the sunrise. gets about 5-6 hours a night. eating habits: pretty healthy, a side effect of living in hollywood. makes unhealthy things healthier on accident, just because she has a love affair going on with veggies. lettuce wrapped burgers, vegetarian pizza, etc. no dairy, but only because she doesn’t like the feeling of it in her throat afterwords. exercise: she knows she should, but hates it. it’s so much work. she does love walks, but doesn’t consider them exercise. sociability: likes to distract herself with people. a big flirt with a heart of gold. addictions: working on not being an alcoholic, being the center of attention. drug use: occasional weed, social lsd user. tried cocaine once at a party. alcohol use: yes.

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: generous, determined, imaginative, warm-hearted, romantic, artistic, energetic, spontaneous, adventurous negative traits: rash, self-centered, indulgent, dramatic, detached, flighty, candid, messy fears: failing, her mother dying hobbies: theatre, singing, playing guitar habits: picking at skin around fingernails, binge drinking, fidgeting

PLAYLIST.

sober ( childish gambino ), talk too much ( coin ), wheel in the sky ( journey ), dinner and diatribes ( hozier ), if you’re too shy [let me know] ( the 1975 ), no. 1 party anthem ( arctic monkeys ), i know the end ( phoebe bridgers ) 4ever! ( lany )

TYPES.

zodiac sign: sagittarius. mbti: enfp. enneagram: 7. temperament: sanguine. moral alignment: chaotic good. primary vice: lust. primary virtue: charity.

CHARACTER INSPO.

lady bird ( lady bird ), suzy bishop ( moonrise kingdom ), shawn hunter ( boy meets world ), jess mariano ( gilmore girls ), erin quinn ( derry girls )

BULLET POINT BIO.

she was raised by single mom after dad left when she was 11. her dad was cheating with her aunt (her mom’s sister) and when it was exposed, it was quite the town scandal.

lex is the youngest of five siblings. (pretty much) all of her siblings grew up to be successful in something practical, like doctors, engineers, etc.

grew into the “black sheep” role rather early on. a rebellious artist with a vulgar streak, lexi was never her mom’s favorite. she tried her best, and lexi knows now that she was hard to parent, but she still hold resentment in her heart for the mom who always wanted perfection from her and never gave her room to breathe.

as a senior in high school, lexi would have done anything to get out of irving. her english teacher suggested she enter a screenplay contest, and she won. an indie production company picked up her first film, an adaptation of kate chopin’s the awakening, and she packed her bags and moved to los angeles without a second thought. she told very few people where she was going, or that she was leaving at all, and only kept in contact with maybe one or two close friends.

she slowly began to gain popularity in the mainstream as her film began it’s wide release, but her relationship with a young movie star is what really put her on the map, or at least on the front page of the tabloids. lexi and her boyfriend were one of hollywood’s “it” couples for two years, until it was exposed that he had been cheating on her with his costar.

on the same night her second film, a thinly veiled coming-of-age story about her life in irving, was nominated for this year’s academy awards, her now ex-boyfriend kicked her out of their shared apartment with nothing but a suitcase to her name.

having nowhere else to go, lexi flew home and has been hiding out in irving for about a week. she’s trying to avoid anyone she knew from before she moved, terrified to find out how they felt about their portrayal in her movie.

HEADCANONS.

i imagine her to be about as famous as greta gerwig. like, you’d know her if you were into movies but some rando on the street isn’t going to recognize her.

she had brunette hair before she left and dyed it blonde when she moved to hollywood, so anyone who knew her from before would notice that haha.

she was a 2014 tumblr girl and still listens to the same music she did in high school.

she grew up undiagnosed with ADHD and was formally diagnosed in la. she did okay in school but only really excelled in her english classes.

big theatre nerd. her favorite musical is spring awakening.

super hopeless romantic. falls in love with pretty much everyone she meets. loves hookups, but then spends the next week daydreaming about what they could have been if they lasted longer than one night.

was more of a grunge loner in high school, but is a big party animal now.

#irvingintro #i have more for her (esp. wanted connections!) but I wanted to get this out before the 24 hours was up haha

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the June 2021 Edition

I have read a lot of books this month. That should be stated upfront. Just an absolute metric ton of books. Some real good, some not-so good, some inadvertently hysterical. Also, I made that BINGO board. Because, like, you ever have a total crisis of writing-confidence and ignore that potential freakout and the tendency of your coworkers to miss deadlines by reading every free Amazon sports romance you can find? And several full YA series? In one month? No? My experiences are not universal, I understand. Anyway, there’s thoughts and opinions and spoilers under the cut. Everyone read the Once Upon a Con series, I’m begging you.

READ THIS SERIES! PLEASE! EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! EVERYONE IN EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! THE FANDOM STUFF DID NOT GIVE ME SECOND-HAND EMBARRASSMENT!

Geekerella by Ashley Poston Part romance, part love letter to nerd culture, and all totally adorbs, Geekerella is a fairy tale for anyone who believes in the magic of fandom. Geek girl Elle Wittimer lives and breathes Starfield, the classic sci-fi series she grew up watching with her late father. So when she sees a cosplay contest for a new Starfield movie, she has to enter. The prize? An invitation to the ExcelsiCon Cosplay Ball, and a meet-and-greet with the actor slated to play Federation Prince Carmindor in the reboot. With savings from her gig at the Magic Pumpkin food truck (and her dad’s old costume), Elle’s determined to win…unless her stepsisters get there first. Teen actor Darien Freeman used to live for cons—before he was famous. Now they’re nothing but autographs and awkward meet-and-greets. Playing Carmindor is all he’s ever wanted, but the Starfield fandom has written him off as just another dumb heartthrob. As ExcelsiCon draws near, Darien feels more and more like a fake—until he meets a girl who shows him otherwise.

The Princess and the Fangirl by Ashley Poston Imogen Lovelace is an ordinary fangirl on an impossible mission: to save her favorite Starfield character, Princess Amara, from being killed off. On the other hand, the actress who plays Amara wouldn’t mind being axed. Jessica Stone doesn’t even like being part of the Starfield franchise—and she’s desperate to leave the intense scrutiny of fandom behind. Though Imogen and Jess have nothing in common, they do look strangely similar to one another—and a case of mistaken identity at ExcelsiCon sets off a chain of events that will change both of their lives. When the script for the Starfield sequel leaks, with all signs pointing to Jess, she and Imogen must trade places to find the person responsible. The deal: Imogen will play Jess at her signings and panels, and Jess will help Imogen’s best friend run their booth. But as these “princesses” race to find the script leaker—in each other’s shoes—they’re up against more than they bargained for. From the darker side of fandom to unexpected crushes, Imogen and Jess must find a way to rescue themselves from their own expectations...and redefine what it means to live happily ever after.

Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston In this third book of the Once Upon a Con series, Rosie Thorne is feeling stuck—on her college application essays, in her small town, and on that mysterious General Sond cosplayer she met at ExcelsiCon. Most of all, she’s stuck in her grief over her mother’s death. Her only solace was her late mother’s library of rare Starfield novels, but even that disappeared when they sold it to pay off hospital bills. On the other hand, Vance Reigns has been Hollywood royalty for as long as he can remember—with all the privilege and scrutiny that entails. When a tabloid scandal catches up to him, he’s forced to hide out somewhere the paparazzi would never expect to find him: Small Town USA. At least there’s a library in the house. Too bad he doesn’t read. When Vance’s and Rosie’s paths collide, sparks do not fly. But as they begrudgingly get to know each other, their careful masks come off—and they may just find that there’s more risk in shutting each other out than in opening their hearts.

— I cannot possibly overstate what an absolute delight this series was. Cute and sweet and adorable. Like rot your teeth sweet with romances that my high-school self would have swooned over. (I would have been so in love with Darien Freeman as a 16 year old, it’s not even funny. Also, I would have been obsessed with Starfield.) Let’s be honest, my current self swooned quite a lot. Reading these books genuinely felt like a love letter to fandom. To the good and bad and trashy parts of it, and it made my heart swell thinking about these fictional kids and the community they found and how much they learned and then they FELL IN LOVE and, like, not to sound like an after-school special, but: THE REP IN THESE BOOKS?!?? HOLY S H I T. So good. So goddamn good. And not, like, shoved to the side. Like, Jess falls in love with a girl. And it gets its swoon-worthy moment as much as anyone else. Plus, bi-librarian dad who wears suspenders??? Sign. Me. Up. Twisting the fairy tales into the stories also worked really well in my opinion. Honestly my only gripe was that Darien found a cell phone number in the white pages, but, like, everything else was a joy. Please read these books. I promise they will make you smile.

IN WHICH I CAN NEVER TURN DOWN A BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge Betrothed to the evil ruler of her kingdom, Nyx has always known that her fate was to marry him, kill him, and free her people from his tyranny. But on her seventeenth birthday when she moves into his castle high on the kingdom's mountaintop, nothing is what she expected—particularly her charming and beguiling new husband. Nyx knows she must save her homeland at all costs, yet she can't resist the pull of her sworn enemy—who's gotten in her way by stealing her heart.

— Yo. YO. Everyone in this book was horrible! And it was wonderful! I figured out the twist approximately point two seconds after the potential for a twist was possibly introduced and it did not diminish my enjoyment of this book for one second. I am such a sucker for any Beauty and the Beast AU, but this was way different than anything I’d read before and Nyx was a blood-thirsty terror and I loved her. The magic and the world building was fascinating in that I really did not expect Greek gods and goddess, but it was also a welcome turn in a weird, huh, that’s interesting sort of way. And the banter was a-plus, top tier. Even when they were snarking at each other. Especially when they were snarking at each other. (Still a pretty quick turn from enemies to lovers, but I’m willing to overlook that based almost solely on the snark.) Plus, the castle was fascinating. And there were more twists aside from the main twist, none of which I figured out. All of which I gasped over. The end was like—chef’s kiss, fantastic. I would like a novel-length sequel to tell me how everything worked out.

...BUT THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD ONE WASN’T AS GOOD

Crimson Bound by Rosamund Hodge When Rachelle was fifteen she was good—apprenticed to her aunt and in training to protect her village from dark magic. But she was also reckless—straying from the forest path in search of a way to free her world from the threat of eternal darkness. After an illicit meeting goes dreadfully wrong, Rachelle is forced to make a terrible choice that binds her to the very evil she had hoped to defeat.Three years later, Rachelle has given her life to serving the realm, fighting deadly creatures in a vain effort to atone. When the king orders her to guard his son Armand—the man she hates most—Rachelle forces Armand to help her hunt for the legendary sword that might save their world. Together, they navigate the opulent world of the courtly elite, where beauty and power reign and no one can be trusted. And as the two become unexpected allies, they discover far-reaching conspiracies, hidden magic . . . and a love that may be their undoing. Within a palace built on unbelievable wealth and dangerous secrets, can Rachelle discover the truth and stop the fall of endless night?

— As much as I loved Cruel Beauty, I was like ehhhh on this one. Which is part Little Red Riding Hood (although that seems like a stretch, honestly) and part The Girl With No Hands, which is a fairy tale I have literally never heard of before. Rachelle was just—sorta whiny? Which, y’know, she was cursed and had fucked up her entire life, so fair, but also...annoying. I kept reading mostly to try and understand what the FUCK was going on with the magic. I like to consider myself a relatively intelligent person who can understand most YA novels, but this one was tough to keep track of. Like, sure, the imagery of the Dark Forest was cool, but also what is a Gladspring? I’m still not sure I know. Also, this kind of dragged in some places. Lots of patrolling the palace (whining about life) and not enough magic-fighting or establishing any sort of relationship between Rachelle and Armand. Which just sort of happened? Amidst, approximately, twenty-four different twists that were admittedly cool, but also felt like they came out of nowhere. Everything that happened in Cruel Beauty made sense. Most of what happened here felt like it was shoehorned in for shock value.

YOU WANT MORAL AMBIGUITY? BOY HAVE I GOT MORAL AMBIGUITY FOR YOU. IN GODDAMN SPADES.

The Firebird Series by Claudia Gray Marguerite Caine's physicist parents are known for their groundbreaking achievements. Their most astonishing invention, called the Firebird, allows users to jump into multiple universes—and promises to revolutionize science forever. But then Marguerite's father is murdered, and the killer—her parent's handsome, enigmatic assistant Paul— escapes into another dimension before the law can touch him.Marguerite refuses to let the man who destroyed her family go free. So she races after Paul through different universes, always leaping into another version of herself. But she also meets alternate versions of the people she knows—including Paul, whose life entangles with hers in increasingly familiar ways. Before long she begins to question Paul's guilt—as well as her own heart. And soon she discovers the truth behind her father's death is far more sinister than she expected.

— Guys. GUYS. These books, oh my G O D. Little known fact about me, but I am trash for cross-dimensional soulmates. The concept of “we’ll find each other anywhere” is one of my favorites, so I was so psyched about these books. And for awhile that’s what I thought I was going to get out of them. But. BUT! What I actually got was something, not totally different, but not entirely great, either. The problem here was that when anyone used one of the Firebird devices to jump dimensions they TOOK OVER THE BODY THEY JUMPED INTO. So, like, that consciousness got shoved to the side while whatever prime!person just took over. Living that body’s life. In a different dimension. And that’s kinda fucked up, right??? Brings in all sorts of questions about consent and morality and let me tell you, guys, this YA series DID NOT ADDRESS A SINGLE ONE OF THEM. Which is also super fucked up!! So, like, Marguerite is just bouncing around dimensions taking over people’s bodies and lives and leaving this, frankly, trail of destruction in her wake. And as if that wasn’t enough!!! In the second book Paul’s soul gets, like, split and she’s got to round up the pieces through dimensions, meeting all sorts of Pauls who are occasionally kind of shit people and he eventually just, like, CANNOT COPE. Seriously, I could not stop reading these. Partially for the moral ambiguity. Partially because I could not figure out why Paul loved Marguerite. Also, capitalism was the ultimate villain. AS IT SHOULD BE, REALLY.

CREEPY FAE WERE KIND OF CREEPY AND THAT’S NOT BAD, BUT LIKE MAYBE THIS WASN’T A GOOD BOOK?

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson Isobel is an artistic prodigy with a dangerous set of clients: the sinister fair folk, immortal creatures who cannot bake bread or put a pen to paper without crumbling to dust. They crave human Craft with a terrible thirst, and Isobel’s paintings are highly prized. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—she makes a terrible mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes—a weakness that could cost him his life. Furious, Rook spirits her away to his kingdom to stand trial for her crime. But something is seriously wrong in his world, and they are attacked from every side. With Isobel and Rook depending on each other for survival, their alliance blossoms into trust, then love—and that love violates the fair folks’ ruthless laws. Now both of their lives are forfeit, unless Isobel can use her skill as an artist to fight the fairy courts. Because secretly, her Craft represents a threat the fair folk have never faced in all the millennia of their unchanging lives: for the first time, her portraits have the power to make them feel.

— I’ve seen this book mentioned a lot. As good. And it wasn’t not good, but Isobel was pretty goddamn annoying and kind of dumb and a little self-important and I was mostly here for the creepy fae. That was fun. More fae should have antlers and stuff. Everything in this story happened ridiculously fast. I couldn’t believe it was over when it was over.

THE PROSE WAS VERY PRETTY. I’M NOT SURE WHY THE DRAGON HAD TO BE SUCH A MONUMENTAL DICK.

Uprooted by Naomi Novik Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her. But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

— Let me just say first off, that this should have been two books. Everything happened so quickly, I swear I got whiplash. That being said, as a heroine, I liked Agnieszka a lot. She was understandably freaked by everything that happened, but once she kind of settled, she didn’t take The Dragon’s shit and that was good because The Dragon was kind of shitty. This is why it should have been two books. Because everything The Dragon did felt like it needed some kind of explanation. Or at least some sort of reasoning for why he was such a monumental bastard. Which is why I was a little confused that Agnieszka was in love with him? He was such a dick, honestly. The last third or so of this book was the best because Novik really does know how to write action and the magic itself was pretty fascinating. (I wish it went into more depth, but I think I’m spoiled by fic and that’s not actually how the publishing world works.) Kasia might have been the most interesting person in this story. Girl went through it and just became a total badass. I loved her.

MARAUDER FEELINGS! MARAUDER FEELINGS! SO! MANY! MARAUDER! FEELINGS!

The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater All her life, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love's death. She doesn't believe in true love and never thought this would be a problem, but as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

— RICHARD GANSEY, MY BELOVED. What a dweeb. A self-sacrificing, sorta sad dweeb. When he wrapped his jacket around Blue, my heart exploded. I think I spent the last fifteen or so chapters with disconcertingly wide eyes and possibly my hand over my mouth. Still not entirely sure why a Welsh king was in Virginia, but I loved it. Was real glad he was there. As promised by that one book rec list I read months ago, the Marauders vibes of these books were off the charts. It was a weird story with lots of weird things and I hope Mr. Grey gets to be happy one day and that Ronan and Adam make out some more eventually. I think they’ll both feel a lot better if they do. Like, about the world as a whole. Has anyone read the Ronan spinoff series? Should I read the Ronan spinoff series?

OK, THIS WASN’T THAT BAD, ACTUALLY

To Love Jason Thorn by Ella Maise Jason Thorn... My brother's childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy that made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time--he was the reason for them all. But, you only get to live in that fairytale world until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces. After the stomping part he became the boy I did my best to stay away from--and let me tell you, it was pretty hard to do when he slept in the room right across from mine. When tragedy struck his family and they moved away, I was ready to forget he ever existed. Now he is a movie star, the one who makes women of all ages go into a screaming frenzy, the one who makes everyone swoon with that dimpled smile of his. Do you think that's dreamy? I certainly don't think so. How about me coming face to face with him? Nope still not dreamy. Not when I can't even manage to look him in the eye. Me? I'm Olive, a new writer. Actually, I'm THE writer of the book that inspired the movie he is about to star in on the big screen. As of late, I am also referred to as the oh-so-very-lucky girl who is about to become the wife of Jason Thorn. Maybe you're thinking yet again that this is all so dreamy? Nope, nothing dreamy going on here. Not even close.

— Ignoring the fact that this was almost blatant self-insert, this was a mostly good, occasionally trashy book with brother’s best friend and the one who got away tropes. Which, as we know, are my life’s blood. (Plus, surprise, fake marriage that isn’t really fake?!? Ok. OK!) My only eeek moment was when Olive got super drunk and wanted Jason to like—consummate the marriage and he was like, No Olive, you’re drunk. And then they ended up doing everything except having full-on sex, which felt a little creep and a lot sketch and then it was never mentioned again. Also, Olive needs to find some better friends, God.

EMERSON COD VOICE: HE’S STAAAAAALKING YOU

Marriage For One by Ella Maise Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own.

— Ok, ok, ok, so I enjoyed the Jason Thorn book, right? Was, like, how bad could this other book be? And it wasn’t bad, but it was patently ridiculous. Let me explain what happened. Not entirely sorry for the spoilers. Jack the lawyer sees that Rose is only going to get the space for her coffee shop from her uncle’s will if she marries someone. She WAS engaged, but the guy split. For reasons no one can understand, especially Rose. She’s sad. She’s spent so much money on espresso machines! Enter Jack the lawyer who one random afternoon is like: HEY ROSE, YOU’RE MOSTLY A STRANGER, BUT I ALSO NEED TO GET MARRIED FOR REASONS I’LL ONLY SORTA EXPLAIN, LETS DO THAT. So they do???? And Jack the lawyer continues to be kinda weird and a little shady, but Rose has got the coffee shop and things are going well. Until! She’s got a leaky brain!!! That’s not a joke. Not a typo. Out of goddamn LEFT FIELD, Rose has got some horrible medical condition, so thank God she got married because Jack the lawyer’s got great health insurance. (this is ROMANTIC) and she’s got to have an operation and he stays with her and sleeps in the hospital chair and her coffee shop is somehow still going strong??? On Madison Avenue??? What sit-down coffee shop on Madison Avenue do you guys know that would succeed? None because it’s not downtown. I digress. Anyway, Rose makes a miraculous recovery, she and Jack the lawyer are now almost in love? At least having a shit ton of sex. They’re mostly happily married. Until, part two! The ex-fiance shows up and is like JACK THE LAWYER PAID ME TO BREAK UP WITH YOU. To which Rose is understandably flabbergasted. She confronts Jack the lawyer who fesses that he’s been seriously crushing on her since they met at her uncle’s Christmas party. She doesn’t remember this. He does. BECAUSE HE’S A STALKER. So, he knew about the will stipulation with marriage BACK THEN, which is why he used FIRM RESOURCES to investigate the ex-fiance and found out he was a con man, using Rose with plans to basically steal all her money. This infuriated Jack the lawyer because he thought Rose deserved better and then proceeded to basically con her himself, just in a different way. With marriage! He told her he needed to get married to show he was a family man to make partner. THAT WAS A LIE. He didn’t need it at all. He just—wanted to marry her??? To help her??? What a psycho. She leaves. He continues to lurk outside the coffee shop. They make up. No one mentions the stalking. The end.

I KEEP GIVING HELENA SECOND CHANCES AND SHE KEEPS...NOT DESERVING THEM

All In Series by Helena Hunting Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

— Last year I read a hockey romance by Helena Hunting that was very cute and traditionally published and she’s got a bunch more free Amazon books that, for some reason, I keep downloading and reading and they continue to be absolutely ridiculous. That first one was a not-so-secret accidental pregnancy (as previously discussed ONE TIME without a condom mention and bam pregnant) but the second one with Rook’s sister was actually pretty cute. I’m not sure why they all called him Rook. Almost all these series have at least one book with someone recovering from an injury and they inevitably fall in love with their physical therapist. So, that one was pretty ok. None of these, however, were quite as entertaining as (wait for it) QUEENIE AND KINGSTON. WHOSE FRIENDS AND TEAMMATES ALL CALL HIM KING. QUEENIE. AND. KING. Gag. I read it anyway. At least 99% of that decision was based solely on the fact that the story started just after King found out his sister was actually his mom. How am I supposed to stop reading THAT?!? I ask you. Highlights of Queenie and King’s romance included: him calling his mom/sister MOMSTER, Queenie being secretly married this whole time, WITHOUT KNOWING IT, his strawberry allergy that flared up because she’d had a strawberry milkshake and then GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB, her dad finding out they were dating because he was the GM of the team and saw that his starting goalie was having a MASSIVE allergic reaction, Queenie’s eventual ex-husband getting engaged to someone who previously tried to self-inseminate to trap Rook into a relationship (I am not making this up, I swear) and then when he found out that his fiancee’s kid wasn’t actually his, he got into a massive fight and earned a 20-game suspension. THAT’S A QUARTER OF AN NHL SEASON. Tom Wilson got fined five thousand dollars for practically killing Artemi Panarin on the ice! I did not read the last book in this series because it was MORE ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY and because it was Queenie’s dad and King’s mom and that meant they’d share a sibling. Which is where I draw the line, guys.

THERE WERE SEVEN BOOKS IN THIS SERIES! EVERY SINGLE ONE HAD TO HAVE A SCENE WHERE THE DUDE UNDERSTOOD THAT PERIODS WERE A THING???? LIKE THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE SOMEHOW?!?!

Hot Jocks Series by Kendall Ryan I've never been so stupid in my entire life. My teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get that memo. After our team won the championship, and plenty of alcohol, our flirting turned physical and I took her to bed. Shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake. She thinks I don't remember that night—but every detail is burned into my brain so deeply, I’ll never forget. The feel of her in my arms, the soft whimpers of pleasure I coaxed from her perfect lips…And now I’ve spent three months trying to get her out of my head. Which has been futile, because I’m starting to understand she’s the only girl I’ll ever want. I have one shot to show her I can be exactly what she needs, but Elise won’t be easily convinced. That’s okay, because I’m good under pressure, and this time, I’m playing for keeps.

—I read all of these. All. Of. Them. They were exceptionally quick reads. Every single one had a copious amount of sex in it and a very weird, apparently required scene, where the dude had to be like I’M NOT SQUICKED OUT BY PERIODS AM I NOT THE ULTIMATE EXAMPLE OF MASCULINITY?? My favorite one was Grant and Ana’s, though, because it was so goddamn absurd I cannot believe someone wrote it. Basic gist was that Ana was dating someone on Grant’s team (he’s the captain, natch) but the guy was a dick and abusive and so one night Ana decides to leave, but she needs someone to help her and WHO DOES SHE TURN TO??? That’s right, reclusive captain Grant. Who’s spent the last few years watching his teammates marry-up and start families and he’s so jealous, but he can’t say anything because he’s a stoic MAN™. So he takes Ana and her dog (of course she’s got a dog) back to his super swanky bachelor pad and she just sort of...stays there? Video of the boyfriend accosting her at her job gets leaked and the boyfriend gets sent to the AHL which is not really how it would work, but fine. Naturally, Grant and Ana hook up. It’s emotional. Vaguely romantic. There’s no GODDAMN CONDOM. So, she gets pregnant. But, of course. Except! She doesn’t know if it’s dick boyfriend’s or Grant’s. Because he’s the male lead in a free sports romance on Amazon, Grant is the MOST understanding. He wants to help Ana. He would like to continue having sex with Ana. This is ready-made happily ever after. Only Ana’s like...eh?? She doesn’t want it to look like she bounced from one hockey player to the next, but also she sorta did and she kept telling Grant she just wanted to be friends, only to have sex, like, three chapters later. Then she just moved out! Just moved out. Seven months pregnant. Moving out. With her dog. Of course, this is a free sports romance on Amazon, so eventually she moved back in with Grant. Once she realized independence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And because he left practice to be there when she had the baby. Oh! And she got a DNA test after. To see whose kid it was. Grant ripped that ‘ish up. Just ripped it up. Which is cool, I guess. But, like, you didn’t want to double check? What if that kid has to go to the hospital? Did she put Grant’s name on the birth certificate? What are his parental rights?? Anyway, they’re all set to live HEA when....THE DICK BOYFRIEND DIES. Straight up. No explanation. Nothing. Just Grant tells Ana he’s dead, she’s like, oh wow that’s sad, they send some flowers to the funeral and that’s THAT. I assume this was to close any potential plot holes on the father of this baby, but it was hysterical and I cannot stop thinking about it. Strangely enough, the one where the couple made a secret sex tape in college and then got back together because it got released may have been the healthiest relationship in this series.

#book recs #book rec #book reccs #laura reads books #welllp these are books #i will not apologize for that bingo board #i think this is a highlight of accomplishments #like for me personally

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whereistheonepiece · 5 years ago

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So @lesbian-space-ranger and I accidentally created a new Zosan AU that we’ve been talking about since last night. A note: half of this is me summarizing, half of it is pulled directly from Discord because Cas (lesbian-space-ranger) has such great ideas.

This is a long post. I don’t feel like putting it under a read more. So. Enjoy. Or keep scrolling. Either works.

So this post happened

These roles just came to me. Didn’t need to give it much thought because Sanji has the appearance and demeanor of a lead singer and I like the idea of him using his skilled hands to play piano at the same time.

I also watched the movie Rocketman earlier in the week. You know, that Elton John biopic. I adored it and it’s been heavy on my mind lately and I liked the idea of Sanji giving a high energy performance from the piano. (Sir Elton John’s music comes into play later.)

And as for Zoro, I find the bass and/or the beat the sexiest part of the music in a song and, naturally, I can see him rocking at either.

So I asked Cas if she had any other headcanons for this AU and this thing is too good to not share.

Yeah, so Zoro and Sanji are in a boy band with Usopp and Luffy. Luffy started the band. Luffy does guitar, Zoro is on bass, Usopp is on drums, and Sanji is on keyboard and vocals.

Nami is their manager. She works them hard and has taken a 40% cut of the profits because of the guys’ naivete and inexperience. But she’s why they took off. She booked their gigs at every venue she could manage, no matter how small.

They got their big break when Nami met Vivi, who’s a talent scout for the record label Baroque Works. Nami insisted that Vivi had to see the boys perform because they’re something else and Vivi’s heard that a thousand times, but she agreed because Nami is cute. Nami and Vivi are dating. Also, re Baroque Works: Crocodile looks like a sleazy music producer, doesn’t he? So does Doflamingo.

So Sanji is the pretty one, Luffy is the funny one, Zoro is the quiet/broody one, and Usopp is the smart one.

Zoro has a lot of deals with fitness brands, but secretly finds the famous life unfulfilling. This comes back later, so keep that in your back pocket.

Robin runs their social media. She’s so good at her job, running all of their accounts and tweeting simultaneously, you’d swear she had four sets of hands. Wink.

Franky does pyrotechnics/lighting.

Brook is their stylist.

Chopper was their first real fan. He and Zoro grew up in the same neighborhood and Chopper just always idolized him. He followed them before anyone knew their names. He was their hype man, saying encouraging things like "I know you guys are gonna be great!" He believed in them even when they didn't believe in themselves.

Usopp set up their recordings before they got signed because he’s savvy. And then Chopper would sell their crappy CDs. At these tiny gigs. Like coffeehouses and stuff.

Sanji can play keyboard because his parents forced him to play piano as a kid. They had this idea that classical music would teach him discipline and make him smarter. This is how he meets Zeff. Zeff’s your typical stern instructor, but he’s the first adult to ask Sanji what he actually wants and likes. Zeff sees Sanji’s not into it so he asks him what music he likes and Sanji tells him he likes pop, so Zeff gives Sanji a more rounded education. This includes Elton John because I say so. It did inspire me to put Sanji on keyboard, after all.

But other than being Sanji’s piano instructor, Zeff becomes the one positive adult figure in young Sanji’s life and he becomes something of a mentor figure for him. Zeff has a garden and he lets Sanji work in it with him. This garden is how Sanji gets his “little eggplant” nickname. Sanji pulls an eggplant out before it’s ready and it’s so small and pitiful and Zeff won’t let him live it down. Like, Sanji keeps in touch with Zeff even into adulthood and after he makes it big and he still calls Sanji little eggplant.

Zoro and Sanji are always doing that, "Kind of flirting, not really” thing on stage. Sanji is always like walking up to Zoro on stage and acting like he's going to kiss him but pushing him away at the last moment. And it's this huge mystery whether they're actually an item or not. This comes from Nami. Sanji and Zoro have this natural chemistry with each other that leads to speculation and Nami, knowing how boy band fan bases work, saw dollar signs. But it’s not just pragmatism on her part; she knows that one cannot simply go up to Zoro and Sanji and say “You obviously like each other. You should date.” So she makes money and helps her friends find happiness.

Usopp has speculation going on as well. People are always confused as to who he’s dating. Tabloids keep being like "Usopp dumped Nami and is now dating Luffy!" "Luffy Scorned?" "Luffy ditches Usopp and steals his girl!" And they just think the entire thing is hilarious. They collect headlines. The answer is Usopp is dating Luffy and Nami and Luffy and Nami just become really affectionate with each other after dating Usopp long enough. Also Nami is dating Vivi, like I mentioned, and sometimes Nami brings her on as a plus one.

Sanji and Zoro keep giving conflicting answers about their relationship status. Like they'll tell one person they hate each other and another person they're gonna get married someday. Sanji has to walk this fine line of being "in love" with all of his female fans and also "in love" with Zoro. Or not. Who knows? Like Sanji enjoys the attention but he really really plays shit up for his fangirls. This makes Sanji even more popular. Just picture pages upon pages of Sanji/Reader and “Zanji” fics on Wattpad. Nami is one smart lady. "I am the smartest, prettiest, most clever person alive."

Zosan getting together really is just a bunch of Fake Dating tropes. At first it really is just to get more press for the band. Nami schemes with Usopp and Robin to push them together. Robin's a social media genius and knows how to craft tweets and Instagram posts that fans will overanalyze.

Meanwhile eventually Zoro and Sanji admit to each other they have actual feelings and one day Usopp finds Sanji sleeping in Zoro's bed, both of them completely tuckered out. But they don’t know Nami crafted this. They just come clean and hope she won't be mad and she's like, "Yes! Finally!" and they're like "What?" and she's like, "I've been waiting for you two to realize you have actual feelings. Did you really think I'd just use you for profit like that?" and they're both like "Yes" "Of course"

Zoro’s mad at her for meddling. Secretly he’s grateful, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction and he’s yelling until Sanji grabs his hand and he just calms down.

And to bring Elton John back into the picture, just picture Sanji doing a cover of “Your Song” and uploading it online and thinking about Zoro. Naturally the comments are abuzz with people speculating that he’s singing about Zoro. And like. Onstage Sanji does his rendition and sends these small glances Zoro’s way, partially because he knows it’ll get the band a lot of attention, partially because that song is sweet and beautiful and it’s such a simple way to explain his feelings. (There is a reason why Moulin Rouge included it!!) I imagine this happens before they come clean to each other. Like, Zoro comes to him and is all “I keep thinking about that song you did...” And they go from there.

And eventually the band comes to its natural end.

Usopp goes solo and flourishes, working as a songwriter and a producer. He wrote the band’s songs and he’s had a drum kit since he was, like, ten and he can make his own beats. He’s not the singing type (though he is good at it and could reach new heights if he came out of his shell), so he’s the kind of artist who makes the beat and then gets super famous pop singers to feature on his tracks. But he also writes songs for other singers and is so good at it and produces other artists’ tracks. I also like the idea that he’s taught himself to play multiple instruments, but he prefers the drums/percussion. He totally played percussion in school and was in marching band. I was in marching band for one year. I loathed every second of it, but I know he’d be phenomenal in drum corps.

Luffy isn’t much in music anymore, but he keeps himself busy. He’s something of an influencer, the kind of celebrity who gets paid to wear fashion brands’ clothing. He’s also Usopp’s trophy husband, living off the money he made off the band. Usopp grew wise to Nami’s antics and made sure he and Luffy would live comfortably for the rest of their lives, even if Usopp were to retire. Luffy also is secretly a Buzzfeed journalist because it’s fun for him to write these hit articles and people not know it’s him because he’s writing on this super bland pseudonym.

And then there’s Zosan. They have a falling out after the band splits and go their separate ways.

Sanji quits being a professional singer because he’s tired of the prying into his personal life, but he still mentors and/or teaches. He has a string of girlfriends and finds no fulfillment in those relationships because the women are only interested in his celebrity.

And they aren’t Zoro.

Zoro tried branching off into commercials for fitness, but his heart wasn’t in it. He kind of takes up ranching on a whim and learns that he’s really good at it. He likes the physical labor, the quiet, being away from it all, nobody knowing his name. He doesn’t pursue anyone after Sanji because he feels like if it’s meant to be, someone will appear.

And Sanji does.

Sanji finds out where Zoro is through Luffy. So he makes his way to the ranch and finds Zoro and Sanji is all “Come back. I miss you.”

And there’s just a lot of soft Zosan content during Sanji’s visit. Sanji’s always been afraid of horses, but he’s not afraid when he’s with Zoro, and Zoro teaches him they can be gentle creatures, it’s just that you just have to respect them. (Ha. Get it?) Zoro takes Sanji on a ride and they go out and he takes him up the mountain and shows him how beautiful the view is. Sanji's watching the sunset and he's like, "Damn that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen." And Zoro is looking at Sanji and he says, "It sure is." And Sanji's like, "you're not... even looking." And Zoro's like, "No, I'm looking alright. Prettiest thing I've ever seen for sure."

More soft things like Zoro taking off his cowboy hat and putting it on Sanji. Them sitting by the fire, Zoro playing acoustic while Sanji sings. Whenever people see them they’ll ask them if they’re musicians and they share a knowing smile and say “Yeah. Something like that.”

And Zoro convinces Sanji to move out there with him. The others come to visit. Luffy and Chopper are obsessed with the cows and horses and the chickens. Luffy wants, like, eight pet chickens. Usopp is skeptical. Doesn’t believe Lu can look after a pet.

And it kind of ends there. It was us going back and forth, oftentimes out of chronological order, and so here I am putting it all together because it’s too good not to share. But it was a lot of fun.

#zosan #zoro #sanji #lusona #luffy #usopp #nami #robin #franky #chopper #brook #vivi #namivivi #long post #music au

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nicolewrites · 5 years ago

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We Stand, Fate-Tested - VIII

D&D took up much more time than I anticipated which is why this is late haha.

Rating: T+ Genre: Mystery, Friendship, Romance Characters: [Byleth/My Unit, Dimitri B.], [Byleth/My Unit, Claude R.] Words: 6,249

A birthday party gives Byleth a headache. / Claude unmasks an enemy.

AO3 | FFN

VIII - Complications

Garreg Mach University - 10 Lone Moon, 733 AU

"How's your neck today, Byleth?" Harriet asked as she entered the lab.

Byleth turned her head experimentally. There was still a twinge of pain when her jaw angled towards her right shoulder, but it was much, much better than it had been directly after the crash.

"It's alright," she replied. She kept her eyes focused on the screen of the computer in front of her, hoping the post-doc would leave her alone if she was clear she didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully, Harriet got the hint and settled down at her own workstation, leaving Byleth alone.

Since the crash, Byleth felt like she was being babied. Flayn called her every night to check up on her and Seteth never left her alone on-site during the dig. He also seemed keen on having one of his other students in the lab whenever Byleth was there as if she was just going to keel over on her own. It was starting to get annoying.

Out of the four people in the car, Byleth felt like she had gotten off the easiest. Edelgard was recovering from a not-so-fun concussion, Claude had fractured his arm in three places, and Dimitri was another story entirely. While he wasn't as physically hurt as the rest of them, the accident had dredged up some horrible psychological trauma for him and he had been basically catatonic for a week, responding only to the gentle prodding of his childhood friends who knew him best.

Edelgard's father had wanted her to return to Fhirdiad where she could be safe and guarded, but she had protested, staying on in all of her classes as well as the dig in the pinnacle of stubbornness. Claude had had his archery season cut short which was definitely annoying, but he still managed to keep his head up and help out on site, despite lacking the use of his left arm.

The crash had been the subject of several tabloid stories for about a week before Edelgard's father finally managed to get it snuffed out. It had been strange to get sympathetic glances wherever she went and to hear the murmured whispers behind her back. It still happened occasionally, but it helped that Edelgard, Claude, and even Dimitri were good at ignoring rumours and pretending that nothing had happened.

Claude had been spending a lot of time in the lab with Byleth when he wasn't in class. He claimed it was because he needed to feel useful to the team somehow since he thought his arm was impeding the dig. Byleth never protested his company. He never pushed her to talk about the crash or its lead up, instead chattering about history and whatever artifacts they were working with. It was both a pleasant distraction and a welcome motivator.

The door to the lab swung open and Byleth glanced up. Seteth strode in, looking more stressed than she'd seen him in a long time, not counting the look of despair he'd worn when he'd visited her at the hospital. Byleth straightened in her seat as Seteth hung his jacket by the door.

"Seteth?" she inquired to her advisor.

Seteth turned towards her when she spoke and Byleth caught the hint of guilt that rapidly spread across his face as he did so. Byleth frowned and pushed her chair back.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Seteth glanced at Harriet who was working away at her own computer with headphones in and he walked towards Byleth, sinking into the seat next to her. "I received some news today," he admitted.

He passed her a folder that he had been holding and Byleth flipped to the first page in it. It was a letter from the Fhirdiad Museum. She scanned it and felt her features twist into a scowl as she processed the words on the page.

"Cancel the dig? They want you to call it all off? Because of a car accident?"

Seteth sighed and took the folder back from her. "Byleth, you were run off the road. That's not just a car accident. You happened to be with three of the most famous youths in the country at the time while on an equipment retrieval trip for a sponsored dig. That's not good press."

Byleth huffed. "And we're all fine and still ready to work on the dig. They can't just cancel it! You've been working towards this for so long. We've only barely started the work we wanted to do. We just got structural approval for the eastern chambers and we're only now passing where Dr. Charon got to. If we don't do this now, there's no telling when the next time someone will be allowed to excavate down there."

Seteth's expression flashed with guilt again. "I was the one who proposed cancelling the dig," he admitted quietly. "There is no history or discovery that is worth the lives of students."

Byleth's hands slammed against the desk and she shot to her feet. Harriet looked over at the disturbance. "You don't even know that that was what any of this was about," she hissed. "You can't throw this away just because of one thing, Seteth."

Seteth looked tired, but he didn't argue with her. Byleth frowned and stepped away from her desk. She grabbed her purse and jacket from by the door and gave him one last hurt look.

"I'm going for lunch," she said shortly.

She made it almost out of the building when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She huffed and fished it out, expecting to see Seteth's caller ID. It wasn't him calling so Byleth answered and pressed the phone against her face.

"Claude?"

"Teach! Exciting news! We've finally gotten everything organized for Friday so we can start inviting people now," he said cheerfully through the phone.

Byleth laughed faintly. "Inviting people?"

"It's Ignatz's birthday on Friday and we're having a surprise party for him. Consider this an official invite."

"A birthday party? Claude, I don't know," she began, but he cut her off.

"Don't worry about not knowing people. It's Ignatz, so we're keeping it relatively small. The whole undergrad dig team is getting invited, plus the archery team, plus our roommates so you'll probably know almost everyone that's there."

She huffed a laugh. "When and where?"

She could practically hear the smile on his face through the phone. "Friday at 9 at our place. I'll text you the address."

"I haven't said yes yet," she pointed out.

Claude chuckled. "You asked when. For you, Teach, that's a yes."

Golden Deer House, University Suburbs - 14 Lone Moon, 733 AU

Byleth knocked on the door with the backs of her knuckles. Her toe tapped against the stone of the doorstep as she took in the house again. It was a beautiful place: something much more extravagant than she had expected for a bunch of students. She had almost wondered if Claude had given her the wrong address until she saw the wire cutout of a deer stuck into the garden and she had chuckled to herself.

After a moment, the door swung inward and Byleth was met with a grinning Hilda. She blinked in surprise at the sight of another of her former students. Hilda's hair was pulled up and she was wearing a flashy silver top and a cute skirt. Hilda stepped backwards and gestured for Byleth to come inside.

"Uh, thanks," she mumbled. "And hi, Hilda, I didn't know you'd be here."

Hilda snorted a laugh as Byleth stepped inside and slid off her boots. "Wow Claude really didn't explain anything, did he? I live here. This whole place is a bunch of Golden Deer in our year. We've been living together since our second year."

"So, it's you, Claude, Ignatz, and," she trailed off, waiting for Hilda to continue the list.

"Lorenz, Marianne, Lysithea, Raphael, and Leonie. You know Lorenz and Lysithea, obviously. Marianne is my best friend and Raph and Ignatz are from the same small town. Leonie's from eastern Fódlan. Most of us are in fourth year, but little Lysithea is in her third year and Leonie's doing five years because of her job," Hilda explained, tapping her fingers as she counted out her roommates.

Byleth furrowed her brow. "Wait, Leonie Plinecky?"

Hilda blinked, her pink eyes widening a bit as Byleth caught her off guard. "Yeah. Do you know her?"

Byleth laughed to herself. "Yeah, she used to take self-defence from my dad," she explained.

Hilda shrugged. "Huh, small world I guess. Now, come on. Ignatz is already here and we did indeed scare the shit out of him with this party. You've got to say hello."

Hilda linked her elbow with Byleth's and dragged her through the living room towards what Byleth assumed to be the kitchen. She recognized a few of the faces in the living room that were drinking and playing games from around campus, the time she went to one of Claude's archery competitions or people Claude had exchanged words with when they had been together on various occasions.

In the kitchen, Byleth recognized more people. There was Ignatz, Lorenz, Annette, Ingrid, Lysithea, Dimitri, one of Dimitri and Ingrid's other friends with dark hair who she thought was named Felix, a boy she recognized from the archery team, plus a few others, and of course, Claude. Lorenz spotted them first and wandered over. Hilda dropped Byleth's arm and planted a light kiss on Lorenz's lips. Byleth blinked in surprise, but her attention was quickly drawn to Claude who had beelined to her side.

"Teach! You're late," he teased.

Byleth rolled her eyes. "You said 9, it's only 10."

"Hello Byleth," Ignatz said brightly. He was wearing a crooked birthday hat and Byleth laughed at both it and the blush on his cheeks.

"Happy birthday," she replied.

"Ignatz! I got it working!" the hulking young man next to Ignatz said, practically shoving his phone in the smaller boy's face.

Ignatz's smile grew and he took the phone. "Maya!" he greeted. Instantly some of the people in the kitchen giggled and started filing out of the room.

Byleth glanced at Claude curiously. He pressed a cup full of some sweet, alcoholic-smelling beverage into her hand and steered her back into the living room.

"That's Raphael," Claude said. "Ignatz is dating his little sister Maya, so that's who's on the phone there. They do long distance, but Ignatz is very sweet and loyal as I'm sure you could guess."

Byleth smiled. "That's sweet." Her eyes wandered the party until they landed on Hilda again who was tucked against Lorenz's side this time. She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that was a thing," she said quietly to Claude.

He followed her gaze and laughed. "Oh man, that's a heck of a story. They've been together for almost three years now though, so I guess it's working."

Byleth was about to press him for details when she felt a tug on the arm that Claude wasn't occupying. She turned, so that she didn't spill her drink, and found herself face to face with a grinning, pink-cheeked Annette.

"Hi, Byleth! I didn't know you were coming!" Annette said cheerfully.

Byleth smiled at her former student. "Yeah, it was kind of last minute, but I'm glad to be here." She sipped her drink and was momentarily impressed by the strength. Most university parties supplied watered-down drinks, but this was something pretty heavy-hitting.

"Claude, I bet that's your doing," said the young man standing next to Annette. He had slightly curly silver-coloured hair and bright green eyes. He was holding Annette's hand and Byleth knew she recognized him from the archery team.

Claude winked. "You bet, Ashe," he said.

"Claude!" a loud voice called suddenly, causing all four of them to turn towards the table where cups were lined up to play pong. "Just because you have a bum arm, don't think you're getting out of this!"

Byleth gave Claude a side-look. "Is that Leonie?"

He laughed. "Yeah. We make a decent pong pair and even the bad arm," he shifted the arm that was still in the sling, "apparently doesn't get me out of that."

Byleth took another long drink and looked back at Annette and Ashe. "I'm good here. Go play."

Claude grinned at her and Byleth felt her stomach warm. She turned back to Annette and Ashe and took another sip of her drink.

"I'm Byleth, by the way. I think we met very briefly once."

Ashe nodded. "Yeah, I think you came to an archery comp. You were the Archaeology TA, right?"

Annette nodded. "Yup! And she works with us on the excavation process."

Ashe brightened. "Oh yeah! That whole thing is so cool."

A girl with a long dark purple braid suddenly popped out of the crowd and grinned at them. "Annette, may I be borrowing your boyfriend? Claude challenged my pride and I intend to be showing him his place."

Annette laughed and nudged Ashe. "Of course, Petra. I'll come and watch too!"

Ashe and Petra immediately headed for where Claude had vanished off to. Annette lingered for a moment longer, glancing between Byleth and the table. "You should come watch," she suggested lightly.

Before Byleth could reply, Hilda had reappeared at her side, linking arms with her again. "I've got her from here, Annie. Go watch Ashe and Petra destroy Claude and Leonie again."

Annette grinned and vanished into the group of people. Hilda peered into Byleth's almost empty cup and immediately steered her back towards the kitchen to get a refill. She filled Byleth's cup and grabbed one of her own, waving at Ignatz and Raphael who were sitting in the corner still talking over Skype to Raph's sister. Hilda then dragged her out the opposite side of the kitchen into what was probably supposed to be a dining room. Ingrid, Dimitri, their friend, and a girl with faint, silvery-blue hair were sitting on the far side of the room, chatting, but they didn't seem to pay Hilda and Byleth any mind.

"So, you and Claude are pretty tight, aren't you?" Hilda said, turning back to her.

Byleth took a sip of her drink. "We're friends," she said. "He pestered me a bunch last semester until we started meeting up to discuss my research. Most of what we talk about is history related anyways," she deflected.

Hilda rolled her eyes. "Look, I've hooked up with Claude. I know what infatuated Claude looks like."

Byleth didn't know what was more surprising to her: the fact that Hilda and Claude had hooked up or the fact that Hilda thought Claude liked her. Hilda noted the surprise on Byleth's expression and laughed.

"Oh come on, you haven't heard that story? In first year, Claude and I were flirting it up when we both met Lorenz. Lorenz and I also hit it off. Claude and Lorenz naturally hated each other, but once they found out I was kind of seeing both of them they united into hating me for all of like two weeks until Claude got his head out of his ass and Lorenz and I had a chat. I'm kind of the whole reason this house exists since Lorenz and Claude hated each other before they both united against me."

Byleth laughed shortly unintentionally. "Wow, not sure that's something to be proud of."

Hilda shrugged, smirking. "Claude's my best friend and Lorenz and I have been steady for a couple of years. I think it worked out okay."

Byleth giggled lightly. "Sure, sure." Her gaze wandered to the other side of the room where there were the other four. "I know Ingrid and Dimitri, obviously, but who are the others?"

Hilda followed her gaze. "That's Felix, Ingrid's boyfriend, and Marianne, my best friend and totally not Dimitri's girlfriend." She said the last part sarcastically and Byleth smiled faintly.

Marianne was very pretty and Dimitri kept casting her quiet, affectionate looks. They certainly looked like a couple. Felix and Ingrid, on the other hand, were much less lovey-dovey looking, but they certainly looked comfortable with each other.

"Drama with that is that Ingrid was dating Felix's brother Glenn when he died. Ingrid and Felix got together a couple of months ago after a lot of dancing around," Hilda continued.

The story clicked in Byleth's head. She lowered her voice to an almost whisper. "Glenn died in the same crash that killed Dimitri's parents, right?"

Hilda nodded. "Yeah," her smile dropped a bit, "it's pretty sad." She shook her head and turned her full attention back to Byleth. "But, I'm here to bother you about Claude! What's really going on with you guys?"

Byleth shook her head. "Nothing, Hilda, I swear. We're friends." A spark of pain flared behind her eyes and Byleth grit her teeth. Her headaches had been more frequent and much worse since the crash and she had been hoping to get through the night without any more of them.

She downed the rest of her drink and felt the alcohol sting her throat as she swallowed. Hilda finally seemed to take the hint that there was nothing more to talk about and shrugged. She bid Byleth a farewell and darted back to the rest of the party to play hostess. Byleth cast Ingrid and Dimitri's group a glance and felt another headache rip through her mind.

She shook her head and slid out the side door of the dining room into the main hallway. Annette and Ashe had apparently migrated there and were chatting with Linhardt and a boy Byleth faintly recalled to be Linhardt's boyfriend. Pain pulsed in her skull again and she winced faintly. She needed to get somewhere quiet. She quickly slipped past the group and found a flight of stairs leading up. There appeared to be a glorious absence of loud music and chatter from upstairs so she headed up, massaging her temples as she went.

She closed her eyes briefly at the top of the stairs and almost keeled over as another sudden sharp pain flared behind her eyes. She saw white for a moment and something that she could have sworn was Annette and Ingrid's boyfriend Felix. Byleth staggered into the nearest room which happened to be the bathroom and sunk onto the floor. She leant against the cool bathtub and rubbed her temples.

A few more images flashed in her brain: Ashe and Petra wearing strange clothes, Lorenz and Marianne sharing tea, Ingrid riding horseback with a man who looked like her other friend Sylvain, and Dimitri extending a hand to Byleth with a soft smile on his face. She exhaled heavily and rubbed at her head, trying to get the images to fade.

"Byleth?" a voice called softly. She snapped her head up and saw Claude standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking concerned. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, sealing out most of the noise from the party. "Are you alright?"

She smiled faintly as her headache pulsed again, but more weakly. "Just a headache. I needed a breather."

Claude drifted towards her and sat next to her, leaning his back against the tub as well. "I get that," he admitted. "Linhardt said he saw you heading up here and I figured I'd come to check in."

Byleth nodded. "Ah," she agreed faintly. The headache faded more until she was almost feeling like herself again, just definitely drunker than she normally was. "Did you and Leonie win?"

Claude snorted. "Nope. Ashe and Petra murdered us. Leonie mentioned that you guys know each other though."

Byleth smiled faintly and nodded. "Yeah, she knew my dad pretty well."

Claude winced. "Sorry."

Byleth shrugged. "It happens," she mumbled in reply.

"Are you really okay though? You kind of looked like you were in pain."

She shifted so that their shoulders were pressing against each other. "Headaches," she explained. "At first it was just the usual stuff I've been getting since the crash, but," she trailed off, not sure if she should mention the roiling feeling of wrong that had settled in her stomach since she'd first arrived at the party.

Claude twisted so that they were making eye contact, but their shoulders remained a point of contact. "But?" he prompted softly.

She sighed. She had trusted him with many of her strange dreams and feelings in the last eight months so she didn't see a reason to hide anything else from him. "I feel like everything is wrong. Everyone is talking to the wrong people. Everyone is acting strangely."

"The wrong people?"

"Annette and Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain, Lysithea and Linhardt, Lorenz and Marianne, Ashe and Petra," she listed off-handedly. "That feels right. Not, whatever is actually happening."

Claude's brows furrowed. "Strange," he mumbled. "Do you think this has anything to do with the dreams?"

Byleth dropped her gaze down and shrugged. "I have no idea," she confessed. Her head was starting to feel foggier and less painful. Claude's solid presence next to her felt comfortable.

She looked up and was almost taken aback by the startling green of his eyes. They had made eye contact dozens and dozens of times since they'd met, but he'd never induced the strange warmth in her stomach that she was feeling right then. She exhaled shallowly and studied his face.

Claude's breathing echoed hers as his eyes flicked over her face noticeably. She could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath and she knew that she herself was fairly tipsy, but she couldn't remove herself from the moment.

"Is this wrong too?" he asked quietly. Something unreadable and serious flashed in his eyes and Byleth's chest contracted a bit.

"Yes," she confessed just as softly.

"You're impossible to read sometimes," he said. "But," he inhaled slowly and Byleth watched his gaze noticeably dart to her lips, "I still think I'm crazy about you."

She leaned forward and kissed him.

His lips were warm and softer than she was expecting and he reciprocated the kiss immediately. It wasn't the best angle with them still awkwardly shoulder to shoulder and with their backs against the bathtub, but the kiss made something simmer warmly in her stomach. His shoulder shifted and his right hand, the uninjured one, came up and cupped her face as he pulled back to breathe before kissing her again.

Byleth felt a twinge of stiffness in her neck and a tightness in her chest due to the lack of air, so she leaned back, gasping. Looking into Claude's heavy, green-eyed gaze, the words he'd spoken to her sunk in and Byleth's whole being twisted viciously with a sense of wrong. She jerked back away from his touch, her neck protesting the movement. Her palms thudded against the bathroom tile to catch her weight before she tipped to the ground.

Claude looked startled. "By," he started gently.

Byleth's breathing sped up. It was shallow and fast and the room suddenly felt too warm. "I have to go," she said suddenly.

Hurt flashed across Claude's expression as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring her alcohol-induced wobbliness and the headache that had sprung back to the front of her mind. He looked like he was about to protest again so she bolted.

Infirmary, Garreg Mach Monastery - 2 Lone Moon, 7 AU

Byleth came to feeling like she had been trampled by a pegasus. Her body was aching and there was a sharper, razor-like throb from the side of her ribs. She blinked and saw a faint glimmer of candlelight nearby. There was a blurry figure sitting next to her, dabbing a cool cloth on her forehead. The cloth jerked back as Byleth blinked again and she heard a familiar gasp.

"Professor!" the familiar voice exclaimed and Byleth's vision cleared enough that she saw Annette sitting next to her, looking incredibly relieved.

Byleth's throat felt dry and sore when she tried to speak. Her words came out breathy and almost as a whisper. "What happened?"

For a second, her mind was blank, but when Annette's features twisted into deeper concern, the memories came rushing back. Byleth jolted and immediately tried to sit up, ignoring the lingering pain in her side.

"Dimitri!" she exclaimed.

"Please, Professor!" Annette said sternly, gently pressing her back into the mattress. "You were very hurt. You need to stay down."

Byleth listened, settling back against the mattress, but a cold fear spread to her limbs. "Where is Dimitri?" she asked again.

Annette sighed slowly. "He's going to be alright. Don't worry."

The cold panic and fear drained away slowly and she tilted her head a bit, checking out the rest of the room. There was no one else in the infirmary besides the two of them, but one of the other beds looked like it had had some recent use.

"Where is he?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I believe he's with Sylvain, Ashe, Dedue, and Felix," Annette answered. She furrowed her brows at Byleth. "You were both hit with powerful dark magic spells, Professor, but I think the fact that he wasn't also stabbed helped with that."

Annette fetched Byleth some water and sent a monk to fetch Mercedes while she answered more of Byleth's questions. She had been unconscious for almost two full days. Dimitri had woken up in the afternoon yesterday. They hadn't caught any of the people who had attacked them. No one else was hurt or targeted in the attack. The perpetrators hadn't left much of a trace besides the magic traces on Byleth and Dimitri after they'd been knocked down.

Byleth recalled the blade suddenly. "I need to talk to Sylvain," she said breathlessly.

"You're not going anywhere until I check you over, Professor," Mercedes called from the entrance to the infirmary. "That magic did a number on both you and Dimitri, but I've never seen anyone react to it quite like you did, Professor."

Byleth frowned. "Annette, please fetch my husband and the others. Especially Sylvain. It's important."

Annette nodded and Mercedes took her place, asking Byleth a million questions about how she was feeling and if she was in any pain. After another Heal spell and a few more swallowed herbs, Mercedes checked the sword wound. It was almost completely healed, but the healer let out a startled gasp that had Byleth twisting her shirt up further to try and see what Mercedes had seen.

She had basically removed it when she saw it: a burn scar kind of in the shape of a star right over her heart. The skin was tender, but the burn appeared to have healed itself and Byleth recalled the intensity of the wave of white magic she had released to repel their attackers.

"What is that?" she asked quietly.

Mercedes shook her head, looking puzzled. "It looks like a white magic burn. Dimitri didn't mention they used white magic too."

Byleth exhaled slowly. She knew where the burn had come from, but how was she supposed to tell her dear friend that it had been self-inflicted by the power sizzling in her veins that was eating her alive. Before anything else could be said, there was a sharp rap at the door and Byleth yanked her shirt down, making herself decent.

"Come in," she called before Mercedes could ask for a bit more time.

Dimitri burst into the room and hightailed it to her side. He basically fell to his knees next to her and Byleth saw the hurt and pain and love in his gaze as he reached up to touch her face. "You're alright," he breathed.

"You're okay too," she replied, lifting one of her own hands to cup his jaw.

Their moment was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of their friends and Dimitri quickly stood and pulled up a chair next to Byleth's bed. He and Mercedes helped her sit up so that she could face all of her friends. The entire group of her former students were present, minus Felix and Ingrid.

"Sylvain," Byleth started, focussing on the northern Faerghus noble. "Has Sreng ever struck this far south?"

He seemed alarmed at her question and shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "They press at the border, but I've never heard of them striking at the heart of Fódlan."

Byleth exhaled warily. "How has the border been?"

He frowned. "Chaotic. They come and go, but I had believed we were reaching an agreement recently since I took over for my father."

"The blade had Sreng lettering," Byleth confessed.

Annette's breath hitched. "What?" she squeaked.

Dimitri looked troubled at the news. "It did?"

Byleth closed her eyes, conjuring the memory of it. She was quite sure. "It did."

Sylvain ran a hand through his hair, looking distressed. "The Sreng people are warriors. They do a lot of weapons trading. Perhaps this was an attempt to frame them."

Dedue folded his arms and looked down, something dark crossing his expression. "This information mustn't leave this room. There will be slaughters if it gets out."

"Yes," Seteth agreed as he strode into the room. He dipped his head to both Byleth and Dimitri in respect. "It is good to see you are recovering Your Grace, Your Majesty. I agree with Dedue here that we must not let the word of a potential attack from Sreng get out. In fact, I would recommend we try to limit the spread of the attack entirely. It would not do well to know that someone got close enough to render both of you unconscious."

Ashe nodded. "I asked Petra and our guards to return to Brigid without me. If the information does get out, I would like her not to be here. Foreign powers interfering at a time like this would be bad." He looked guilty for a moment and Byleth knew it was the guilt of leaving his wife so soon after they had been wed as equals in Brigid. "I hope my skills are still welcomed here," he added quietly.

Byleth nodded. "Ashe, you are always welcome. I agree with Seteth, though." She looked around the room at her trusted friends. "News of the attack does not leave this room," she said sternly.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Garreg Mach Monastery - 9 Lone Moon, 7 AU

Byleth was in the market when she heard the crowing of a wyvern. She snapped her head up and spotted the white beast descending towards the stable, followed by a brown wyvern. Her lips parted in surprise. She knew that wyvern and she had no idea what it was doing here. She smiled politely to the vendor she had been speaking with and excused herself, making quickly towards the stables.

Claude was assisting his two companions down off of the second mount by the time she had arrived. Byleth's steps faltered and she stared at the Almyran King for a long time. Claude helped Lysithea down and said something quietly to the third new arrival, Linhardt, before he turned and finally noticed her. He grinned.

"Hello, Your Grace," he said lightly. There was a familiar teasing lilt to his voice and Byleth could only stare dumbly at him.

"What are you doing here, Claude?" she demanded after a moment.

His grin twisted into a sly smirk. "I figured you could use a dark magic specialist and someone who has some ideas who might be interesting to you," he offered, gesturing to Lysithea and then Linhardt.

Lysithea brushed off her skirt and sent Claude a dirty look. "He's being evasive, as always, but he did bring us some interesting news."

Byleth furrowed her brow and stared at Claude again. "How did you know?"

He shrugged. "I'm good at knowing things."

Byleth scowled at him. "This information wasn't supposed to leave the monastery grounds," she said firmly.

Claude winked. "Good thing we're on the grounds then." Byleth scowled, but he continued before she could interrupt him. "Gather your group. This information is probably more than you're expecting."

They met in Byleth's study. Dedue, Mercedes, Ashe, Dimitri, Claude, Lysithea, Seteth, and Linhardt stood and sat around the room each wearing an expression of varied discomfort and concern. Sylvain, Felix, and Annette had had to return home for their children's sakes and Sylvain was also looking into the Sreng lead.

Byleth turned the paper in her hands over. It bore Hubert's writing and detailed the activities of the dark group that had assisted in the Empire during the Unification War. Linhardt had presented it to her along with a few more just like it that he had recovered from the Vestra estate after the war. Apparently he had been doing his own research from Ordelia territory where he had settled with Lysithea after the two of them successfully had Lysithea's Crests removed and dissolved her noble house.

Claude, of course, had gotten wind of their work and the attack at Garreg Mach and had apparently drawn a thread connecting the two. He had brought them to the monastery to discuss their research and Lysithea's past experience with them. She shared her horrible childhood trauma where she had had her second Crest implanted and Dimitri's breath caught when she had described the fading of her hair's pigment and the weakness the second Crest had imposed upon her.

The group, dubbed Those Who Slither in the Dark, according to Hubert's notes, were apparently vehemently against the children of the goddess and had fantastical weaponry and dark magic mages, including Cornelia and Solon. Dedue and Dimitri had both stiffened when Byleth had read about Cornelia and her involvement in what Hubert described as the orchestrated Tragedy of Duscur.

Byleth placed the last letter down on her desk and frowned. "Claude, you're saying these people are the ones who attacked Dimitri and I?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, but it certainly seems more likely than a Sreng invasion and assault to me. If I had to guess, I would say their target was just you, Byleth, and that Dimitri was meant more as a personal attack. If you give Linhardt and me more time, we could probably work with Hubert's notes more and figure out where they're hiding. Then we can remove them and remove the threat entirely."

"No," Seteth cut in sharply. His face was pale and Byleth bit her lip as she studied her advisor. "Doing so will only create bigger targets on both His Majesty and Her Grace. If you pursue this, they could only come after you harder and if you're wrong, then you are chasing empty threads into the wind and letting the true culprits get away."

Lysithea scowled. "We're not wrong. The Hades spell that struck Byleth and Dimitri was strong enough to take them both down. I know that spell," she asserted. "I have met very few people who could cast it at that strength. We're not wrong."

"Even so," Dedue said, "I agree with Seteth. We can look into it, but His Majesty and Her Grace should not be leading any charges. It endangers them too much."

Dedue's compromise settled the animosity in the room, but Byleth felt frustrated. She was tired of being protected. These attackers had tried to kill both her and her husband in their home. She wanted to remove them personally. Dimitri looked conflicted and Byleth instantly understood. He felt the same way she did, but he obviously did not want to put her in any more danger, just like how she wanted to keep him from further danger. Claude had said the target was likely just her, so she wanted to protect Dimitri as much as she wanted.

She took a deep breath. "I give you permission to look into this further," she conceded. "But, no one will be taking any offensive action until we reassess."

Dimitri frowned at her, but he didn't argue. Dedue and Seteth looked placated and Mercedes and Ashe nodded in agreement as well. Linhardt gave her a cryptic look but didn't argue. Lysithea huffed and narrowed her eyes. Claude simply studied her, his expression unreadable. Byleth inclined her chin and refused to show her hand.

"Now, I believe this discussion has concluded. We should all go for dinner." She smiled at Lysithea and Linhardt. "We have friends visiting, after all."

Her companions accepted her suggestion and began making their way out of the room. Claude and Dimitri lingered until it was only the three of them left. Dimitri looked between her and Claude twice, but the Almyran King didn't even flinch.

"My love," Byleth said gently, "I would like to speak with Claude briefly about handling private matters of state. We'll join you in a few minutes."

Dimitri looked only partially convinced, but he kissed Byleth gently on the lips and made his way out of the room, leaving her alone with Claude. Claude raised an eyebrow at the door as it shut behind Dimitri.

"Private matters?" he inquired.

Byleth took a deep breath and folded her hands atop the desk. "We're going to finish this," she said firmly. "We stamp them out and remove the threat as soon as you figure out where they would be."

Claude's eyes narrowed. "You didn't send everyone away to tell me you're going against the direct council of your closest companions."

"No," Byleth agreed. "I sent everyone away to tell you we're going to do this without Dimitri."

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goodmcn · 5 years ago

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* 𝖇𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 to all u skinnie legends out there who i am BURSTING at the seams to write w ! i’m 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 , i go by 𝑠ℎ𝑒 / 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 pronouns and am full of excitement to get some kickin plots started w my lil charmer son , 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒉𝒊 ! he’s a relatively new muse i’m trying out so forgive any of the kinks i’m workin out ! unless u like that shit which in that case u go boo and i love u . all likes will result in me comin to u for plots so make sure to love that 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 down ! without further ado , here comes ur new resident boyband bf with dimples n commitment issues ! :~) :~) :~)

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 here and do i have the tea for you . 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒉𝒊 is back on campus , which is surprising considering the threatening note i left them . yes , i know all about 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 because of their 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 . imagine the tabloids and how the 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏 family would feel for such information to come out , not to mention the reputation of 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚 because of their actions . at this rate , 𝒉𝒆 is better off staying put in 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐮 , 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 and living off that $966 m family net worth . what’s the point in studying 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 with plans to 𝑪𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑼𝑷 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑳𝒀 𝑨𝑺 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹 , is it worth it with what i know ? anyways , they may want to continue to be 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 & 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 because the 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 & 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕 attributes make me want to spill . ( 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑓𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑧 , 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 , 𝑝𝑠𝑡 ) .

* TRIGGER WARNING : drug mention , death mention

⋆ ╰ 𝑺 𝑻 𝑨 𝑻 𝑰 𝑺 𝑻 𝑰 𝑪 𝑺 .

𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 : bodhi alexander goodman 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 : bo , b 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 / 𝒂𝒈𝒆 : june 6 , twenty - one 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄 : gemini 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 / 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔 : cismale identifying with he / him / his pronouns 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : to be determined ! 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : student at hworth majoring in anthropology and minoring in performing arts , member of ( undetermined vc / name but their artist - claim is PRETTYMUCH ! 🥴 ) , aspiring actor 𝒉𝒐𝒈𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 : gryffindor 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 : jake peralta from b99 , finn hudson from glee , jim halpert from the office , han solo from star wars , sonny carisi from law and order svu , prince naveen from the princess and the frog

𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔 : - impetuous , remiss , hedonistic , defiant , mercurial , afraid of commitment , truculent

+ benevolent , jovial , responsive , imaginative , assiduous , steadfast , sharp-witted , enthusiastic , magnetic , sympathetic

⋆ ╰ 𝑨 𝑵 𝑻 𝑬 𝑪 𝑬 𝑫 𝑬 𝑵 𝑻 .

001 : bodhi came into his family as the result of a closed adoption . he doesn’t know much about his birth family besides the few pictures his parents have shown him but he’s been told little to nothing about his roots besides the fact that his birth mother is also jewish . it’s not that his parents want him to remain in the dark about his past , it’s that they want to give him the choice to pick and choose what facets of it he discovers himself , and so far , bodhi’s been content living the life he knows : two loving parents who picked him of all people to add to their family .

002 : his mother , martha goodman , runs a foundation to empower women in leadership positions and makes a fortune running workshops and speaking tours . his father is the tv mogul of america . eric goodman has his own TV empire and runs shows such as the bachelor franchise , ER , will and grace , veronica mars , shameless , etc ( basically warner bros television productions . ) he grew up needing nothing , learning everything , exploring the world of the rich and famous with hollywood’s darling power couple keeping him grounded and putting a good head on his shoulders . while most in their tax bracket filled the expectation of the snotty rich families , the goodman’s seemed to have an ascriptive surname , building a reputation of themselves for being kind , self-made people who maintained humility and their good natures throughout their rises to fame .

003 : with a family reputation for being generally decent human beings , bodhi’s sparkling personality and kind disposition showed no deviation from this behavior , and he quickly charmed his way through every hollywood party or charity fundraiser his parents let him tag along to . there’s no expectation from martha or eric for him to be anything other than a good person , allowing bodhi to develop at his own pace and for that , he’s able to flaunt a relationship of mutual respect and absolute adoration of both his parents to this day ( a notably rarer and rarer thing in the circles he graces , it’d seem . )

003 : he’s well-liked throughout school , doing well enough in the sports he dabbles in to have a potential future in them , but it’s nothing that speaks to him the way the arts do . his teachers note his bright , inquisitive nature , the way he watches and recreates movements and noises with almost frightening precision , the tenacity and the desire for absolute perfection . it’s shocking , really , when his parents see his grades tanking around the same time he’s leaving middle school . they’ve given him what he wants , after all , without losing the perspective of discipline they mutually agreed upon . the private schools should be enough to keep him in line , but as it turns out , it’s nothing of their own intentional doing that leaves bodhi’s gpa with much to be desired . tired of his legacy being attached to his surname , he finds himself attracted to the way he makes people smile : at first , it’s the way he performs on a stage that gives him the approval he so craves , eventually , it’s the adrenaline that comes from intentional disobedience that starts to drive him .

004 : the headmaster of the ritzy high school he attends hesitates to label him a ‘ problem child ‘ — after all , bodhi’s well-liked among his instructors , has a thriving social life , and is actively involved in extracurriculars up to his ears . ‘ he’s not a bad kid , ‘ the headmaster explains to the concerned goodman’s , seated tensely in his office for a behavioral intervention meeting , ‘ he just makes some really , really bad decisions . ‘ and that’s to say the least , he notes : the list of his infractions include everything from harmless pranks and showing up to class hungover to provoking other students and being caught with illegal substances . they don’t condone such behavior , of course , but the school would never consider rejecting the decent sum his parents offer to scrub his academic record of such infractions .

005 : unwittingly , they fuel bodhi’s chaos . knowing he can get away with more and more than he ever considered possible , he carries on following whatever feels good or seems like it’ll fill his time . he hates sitting still and loves making other people feel good , a dangerous combination when fueled with the nearly 1 billion dollar empire his parents have at his fingertips . he’s saved only by his own charm and his family’s heft , getting out of dui’s and public intoxication charges without too much more than a salacious headline ( something he grows used to enough to remain unbothered by . ) it’s when he’s 17 and receives an offer from his first manager to join a group that he gets out of the rigidity of school that seemed to have been holding him back . it’s him and 4 other boys his age , meant to be something of nsync revamped , utilizing his musical inclination and dance talents to shoot him into the tabloids for reasons other than something that would scandalize his parents , for once . the group is playful and fun , and their fan demographic is mostly girls his age , so he’s more than pleased to finish school on the road during their first small scale tour through the US .

006 : while this gives him a new outlet for his energy , bodhi still finds himself in the occasional sticky situation with the law , much to his parents and now his team’s exasperation . his parents force him to enroll at hu as some sort of hope he’ll learn discipline , balancing his career and his studies , and for a while it works . recording during the school year and touring every other summer , bodhi strikes a balance that gives him some sort of fulfillment for a short amount of time — that is , until his mercurial side kicks into gear and combines with his natural hedonistic tendencies to cause one of the lowest of lows in his life . he’s halfway through his sophomore year when he feels a change of heart , losing passion for the now - boyish tendencies he’s become so comfortable with in his life , longing for something where he’ll be taken more seriously . he wants to impress , to blow people away , to make them feel , and while music has been there for him his whole life , he can’t help but think maybe he’s been meant for a stage or a camera and that’s what’s left him so empty . the prospect of having to tell his family and group he wants to throw it all away to pursue something he has no experience in agonizes him , pushing his nerves to the point he reverts to old habits trying to soothe them . he’s partying harder than he has in years with his close circle , much to the chagrin of a childhood friend who’s trying to talk him out of being reckless . he claims to remember none of the details of the night , but the memory of handing his best friend the first line of coke for the night and watching something go very , very wrong before bodhi’s able to follow suit is forever engrained in his memory . fucked up , terrified , and forever afraid of the very real responsibilities he’s faced with , he turns and hightails it out of the party . the police raid it a half hour later , and his friend’s death is ruled an accidental overdose on laced coke .

007 : bodhi doesn’t tell a soul about how he left his friend behind , about how he could have done something if he wasn’t such a fucking coward afraid of stepping up , and feels the loss deep inside himself every day moving forward . he ignores it by pushing his fun-loving disposition even further , trying to temper it with a push to be taken more seriously as an artist in order to make his transition into acting . he’s had small theater roles here and there and does a student film or two , but it’s nothing close to what he wants of himself . after all , hollywood wants a leading man , which bodhi has the absolute capability of being — if he weren’t so busy letting himself be consumed by his peter pan syndrome . he wants it all , to be taken seriously , but is unwilling to let go of the habits that keep him lodged in immaturity . always one to run from his problems , holling’s threats are now forcing him to face the reality of the consequences he’s tried so long to ignore . with his career , his family name , and his own future at risk , he’s being forced to recognize that good intentions aren’t always enough to keep him in one piece .

⋆ ╰ 𝑨 𝑵 𝑨 𝑳 𝒀 𝑺 𝑰 𝑺 .

001 : bodhi’s been something of a golden boy as long as he can remember , or at least some version of it despite his propensity for mischief . boy-ish , charming , with a heart perhaps too big for his body and seemingly allergic to anything remotely resembling responsibility . he’s a natural born leader when the event suits him — passionate and able to use his magnetism for bringing people together , but when he feels unmotivated , he’s about as helpful as he is good with his schoolwork ( which is to say : leaving something to be desired . ) despite this , he’s an outspoken advocate for good and through his jokes and headassery , will push for a message of benevolence and good energy .

002 : his bright , playful disposition makes him naturally magnetic . he’s a man’s man through and through but has a sensitivity engrained by his parents that lead him to respect all life , no matter the perceived or stereotyped value . despite his traditional ‘ bro ‘ demeanor , he’s quite respectful and his brash nature tends to avoid all objectifying or unbecoming commentary . with a devilish grin and an unparalleled enthusiasm for life , bodhi’s kind nature doesn’t seem so much of a pushover as someone who really just makes those around him feel alive . he has an air of self - assured confidence and mellow security , partnered with his belief that everyone has a value as a person and his kind , unrelenting eye contact , has the effect of bodhi making you feel like you’re the most important person in the room , solely by the way he pays attention to you . this is part of his passion , making others feel uplifted and important .

003 : his upbringing , despite not perfect , leaves him with a moral compass pointing a little straighter than what he’s found in some of the circles he frequents . despite a usually easygoing and breezy disposition , bodhi’s disdain for the egocentric or high - brow mindsets of his classmates often leaves them as the butt end of his jokes . he knows there’s no point in calling them out , so instead he takes a jim halpert - ian approach to their demeanors by pressing every single button made available to him . he gets an absolute KICK out of this and while he tries to leave the lady societies out of the equation of his teasing , many of his snotty sigma brothers have expressed quite the frustration with their wildcard member’s tendency to cause issues within their ranks solely for his own entertainment .

004 : despite having all the makings of a true leading man , it’s bodhi’s selectiveness with his efforts and fear of all things responsibility that leave him in neverland , a perpetual peter pan syndrome following someone who desperately wants to be taken seriously despite doing nothing to make himself more serious , thus his flaw of greed — he wants it all , but wants it given to him rather than work for it himself . he’s naturally playful , almost to a fault , using humor as a coping mechanism for his discomfort at some less than opportune times . having a heart as big as his leads to a level of sensitivity that sometimes teeters on being too much rather than too little — he’ll percieve slights that aren’t there , or take liberties with past conflicts as excuses to cause new conflicts of his own . he’s a perfectionist at heart , which leads to his tendencies to be all or nothing : he either will go after something with every intention of being the best , or will refuse to try at all . his inner confidence leads to an occasional miscalculation , biting off more than he can chew and leaving those around him to clean up after his mess despite his best efforts . he’s dedicated to certain people and causes but is otherwise unreliable , with a naturally fickle disposition that leads to some uncertainty as to whether he will really follow through or not unless it has to do with something or someone he’s expressed loyalty to in the past .

005 : LIKES TO FUCKIN MOVE ! he cannot fuckin sit STILL and u’ll always catch him bouncing his leg or wigging lmao he hates sitting down . sports were awesome for him but he THRIVED when he learned how to dance n honestly that’s one of his most notable talents . he fucking looooves to move , and lots of how he emotes comes from his body language bc he knows how important it is to be expressive in more than jsut your face , esp w acting . he’s left handed , LOVES animals , and feels most himself when he’s making someone else smile . he’s prone to random outbursts of musical inclination and is the one in his friend groups that often receives a ‘ bodhi SHUT UP ‘ because he’s trying to harmonize with the radio DFSDFSD . he’s more than willing to share his ecclectic collection of scars and scratches from the countless bad decisions he’s made , and has been a frequent star of barstool’s social media for some of his less - than - professional antics . there’s a running hashtag on twitter to make him the next bachelor but he can’t stay out of jail long enough for his dad to give him the green light KSFDJSDF

⋆ ╰ 𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒 .

001 : exes - who doesn’t like a good exes plot :/ good terms , bad terms , on and off , whateva . give me someone he said ‘ i love you ‘ to in 24 hours , give me someone he dated for 6 months and never said it once , give me someone who he ghosted , someone who ghosted him , truly ANYTHING i am down to talk abt

002 : good influences - bodhi needs some ppl to help keep him in CHECK the mans can be a lil wild sometimes . im thinking 1 or 2 ppl who kinda work as his voice of reason when he can’t think straight n wants to dive off the roof into the pool to say ‘ bodhi no ! ‘

003 : bad influences - he’s a p good guy so i’d LOVE for some muses to bring out the worst in him

004 : hookups - he respects women by providing them w fire ass hookups n then never talking to them again KSDFKJSDHF im kidding , but fr he’s down . give me ongoing , former and ended badly , one night stand , all the TEA

005 : inner circle - i’m always a sucker for a good bro squad ( bro is forever and always gender neutral btw )

006 : party friends - this is self explanatory y’all !

007 : childhood friends from malibu / so cal area - he basically hasn’t grown up in like 12 yrs besides getting taller n buffer give me some childhood friends , a first love , former neighbors , even a mf pen pal ?

008 : friends w lingering feelings / skinny luvs - any of these in ANY extent would be desired and adored 😔✊🏼

009 : enemies / ppl who don’t like him / he doesn’t fw dfsfsd - bodhi’s pretty social but he kinda has this thing against rlly snotty rich kids so pls give me some high brow muses that he doesn’t get along w ! and makes his life’s effort to annoy n cause trouble w !

010 : fans ? - he’s in a boyband .. . . .. tbh it’s not the least likely thing in the world for him to have a stan or two at hu ? prettymuch n former 1D stans come thru DJFSJDHFKSJ

#holling:intro #im so tired of typing im sorry for this mess :/ SDFSDF #⎝ * 𝒃 . 𝒈 . › ooc .

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