#You promised you would take me there (promo)

[hoshiszora-archived]

While my boyfriend managed to come down here to visit for 3 weeks (he just got back to his home country btw), this summer has been the death of me and I swear these allergies are also going to be the death of me.

Summer has not been that fun (though I did have fun being with my boyfriend), and because of my allergies tbh I've been considering taking a bit of hiatus from here until summer is over, but then also like what is the point of that since I'm barely active aside from shitposting anyway?

[cryptic-ashes]

Tag dump

[alexandreakarev]

This is a BLOG SET UP tag drop.  Wishlist, answered, promos, about blog, permanent starter call, stats are all tags under the cut. This tag set up are different quotes for all the tags in this section.

* … ( OOC : ramblings. ) › ❝ she has a mouth like unswept glass. it will CUT you when you least expect it. ❞ * … ( OOC : ooc answered. ) › ❝ you have the words to change a nation and yet? you’ve been BITING your tongue. ❞ * … ( OOC : about the mun. ) › ❝ she has kind of said too much. and you’ve said ENOUGH. promise that she is just another narcissist. ❞ * … ( OOC : original poetry. ) › ❝ prefers her work to be RECOGNISED rather than hidden. either way? she won’t go speechless. ❞ * … ( OOC : self promo. ) › ❝ a little self-promo featured on the dash never really KILLED anyone. has it? ❞ * … ( OOC : promo. ) › ❝ the best people completely DESERVING of all of your love & attention on shining spotlights of their own. ❞ * … ( OOC : musings. ) › ❝ she is brave and STRONG and broken all at once. ❞ * … ( OOC : nsfw. ) › ❝ mascara runnin’ and lipstick smudged. wearing a red wine stained dress with a hint of the DEVIL in her eyes. ❞ * … ( OOC : desires. ) › ❝ took her hours just to do her makeup right. if you’re the reason it gets ruined she’ll be PISSED tonight. ❞ * … ( OOC : wanted plots. ) › ❝ wish I never hung up the phone like I did. WISH you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I live. ❞ * … ( OOC : wishlist. ) › ❝ let a shooting star run across a MIDNIGHT sky. throw a coin into a wishing well. make a wish now. ❞ * … ( OOC : ask meme. ) › ❝ she hates playing MIND games but yet continues pulling and pushing. loving you is a losing game. ❞ * … ( OOC : about blog. ) › ❝ doesn’t start with once upon a time. you know what she’ll introduce the LEGACY with? always and forever. ❞ * … ( OOC : plotting starter call. ) › ❝ handle it? are you kidding? she’s the master of SKILLFULLY planning the next tactical moves. ❞ * … ( OOC : statistics. ) › ❝ you and me got a whole lot of history. so does it ever drive you CRAZY just how fast the night changes? ❞ * … ( OOC : templates. ) › ❝ your lack of proper organisation causes her serious DISTRESS beyond what you could possibly fathom. ❞ * … ( OOC : credits. ) › ❝ the ABSOLUTE best lifesaving content creators. ❞ … ( OOC : all headcanons. ) › ❝ fact is deleted scenes should’ve made canon. would take over CONTROL of her original narrative. ❞ * … ( OOC : all replies. ) › ❝ written in these walls are the STORIES that I can’t explain. leave my heart open but it stays here empty. ❞ * … ( OOC : all answered. ) › ❝ watch out for a furious writer with a vocabulary of sharpened CONVICTION and quills in her arsenal. ❞ * … ( OOC : all edits. ) › ❝ nobody remembers the easy. they REMEMBER the blood, sweat and tears shed on the journey. ❞ * … ( OOC : reblogged. ) › ❝ don’t play the person. play to rig the game of the unfair system. and BREAK through the walls of it. ❞ * … ( OOC : reshared. ) › ❝ she’ll intend to keep these polaroids with her CAPTIONED signature to remember for when she’s grey. ❞ * … ( OOC : psa. ) › ❝ thank you next. in ADVANCE? you’re welcome. ❞ * … ( OOC : verses. ) › ❝ mayhaps in another world things would’ve been DIFFERENT. and I could’ve made you stay. ❞ * … ( OOC : verse drop. ) › ❝ she wants to be your midnights. are we out of the woods yet? tell me where do broken hearts go. ❞ * … ( OOC : queue. ) › ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞

[darkaac]

finished AC Origins! I liked it a lot, Bayek might be one of my favorite protags

[harrysfolklore]

yes for tom!! (bday anon!!)

first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAYY this is short but i didn’t want to leave you without your bday blurb 🥹 hope u guys like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

gifs by @ssoveia <33

Birthdays were never your thing.

Surely growing up you had a lot of good memories when it came to celebrating your birthday, but as you grew older you forgot the magic behind celebrating your birthday.

However, that changed when you started dating Tom two years ago, he always made sure to make your day special and make you feel loved and celebrated.

In your first year together he threw you a big party in a rooftop in New York City, getting all of your friends and close family together. For your second, you celebrated in a more intimate way with a small trip to Greece.

However, this year you didn’t have any expectations on how would you celebrate your day, since Tom’s schedule was beyond busy with the press, promo and premieres of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

You were extremely proud of him and everything he was achieving, so you wouldn’t blame him if he happened to forget your birthday, he was doing what he loved the most and that was enough to make you the happiest ever.

As the morning of your birthday approached, you woke up feeling a bit disappointed, knowing Tom had to leave early for the some promo shoot for the movie. The empty side of the bed only echoed his absence.

However, when you when you headed the stairs, a full breakfast and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers greeted you, accompanied by a note in Tom's handwriting.

"Happy Birthday, my love. I'm sorry I had to rush off. I hope this brightens your morning a bit. We'll celebrate tonight. Love you x . - Tom."

Just as you were admiring the bouquet, your phone ringed with an incoming video call from Tom.

"Hey, birthday girl!" Tom's face beamed through the screen. "How's your day been so far?”

"It's been good, actually," you smiled fondly at him, "Breakfast and the flowers were such a lovely start"

"Look, I'm really sorry I couldn't be there to say Happy Birthday first thing in the morning," his voice sounded distressed and you couldn't help but feel for him, "I'll make it up for you tonight, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, baby. I completely understand. I know how crazy your schedule is right now," you assured him, "You're doing what you love the most and I'm so proud of you for that."

"Yeah, it's been non-stop. But that I hate that it's keeping me from being there for you on your special day."

"Honestly, you being so busy doesn't take away from the fact that you've made it special already," you shrugged, smiling at him, "And I know whatever you have planned for tonight will be just amazing, so stop being so hard on yourself!"

"About that," he smirked before continuing, "Make sure to be ready at 7. I'll pick you up."

"Whatever you say, handsome," you rolled your eyes with affection, "As long as I would love to stay here, I know you have to go back to work."

"Shit, I do," he said realizing that crew members were already looking for him, "Happy Birthday again, my love. You're amazing."

//

ending kinda sucked lmao i hope u like this bday anon happy bday

[abyssruler]

cyno x gn!reader

“You’ll like him, I promise!”

“If he’s anything like you, I suppose.”

“Well…” You trail off, imagining you and your brother growing up and constantly being told how different the two of you are, from your personalities down to your looks. “Anyway! He can be a bit of a dummy, but he means well.”

Cyno nods, a thoughtful frown on his lips as he crosses his arms and waits for your brother to arrive at your meeting spot.

You spy the eye-catching ahoge from a mile away. You beam, raising your hand in a wave and turning to your partner beside you—only to blink as you realize that he left without your notice.

The sound of steel against steel in the distance blares an alarm in your head. Frantic, you whip your head to the direction of the sound and find two very familiar individuals duking it out.

Oh no.

“Big brother Haitham, stop!”

They both freeze at the sound of your voice for two completely different reasons.

Al-Haitham pulls you behind him and points his sword at your very confused partner, uncharacteristically slow to connect the dots. “Choose your next actions carefully, Cyno.”

Cyno completely lowers his weapon as he switches his gaze between the two of you as if in disbelief that Al-Haitham, the so-called Akademiya lunatic who he’s barely spoken two words to, is your older brother. You, the light of his life—but also an Akademiya drop out who only managed to get in through sheer luck after your random answers on the entrance examination turned out to be right—were related to him?

Impossible.

…Or so he would have thought a minute ago before his world was turned upside down and his partner’s brother wasn’t the most suspicious person in Cyno’s eyes.

My brother is really smart like you! He’s really nice and he used to help me study for my tests back when I still went to the Akademiya. A little, um, mean—but he’s actually a good person!

Hah, mean. A large understatement. It would equate to a scholar calling the General Mahamatra benign.

He suppose he should have expected it from you. You do have the tendency to think the best of people, even when they don’t deserve it.

“Brother.” You tug on Al-Haitham’s arm to bring his sword down, but he refuses to do so, unwilling to take his eyes off Cyno. Huffing in annoyance, you stomp on his feet and feel immense satisfaction when he turns his head to glare at you.

“This isn’t the time—”

“He’s Cynie!”

There’s a joke to be made about a pin dropping in the silence after your words and your brother’s dawning look of realization and the skepticism that follows.

He whirls his head to Cyno and points, “That’s Cynie?”

You nod with a growing smile, delighted that your brother finally lowered his sword so you can come up to Cyno and drag him close by the arm. “Cynie, meet my brother, Haitham!”

“…I told you not to call me that in front of others.”

“But it’s cute!”

“Only when we’re alone.” To this, he sends a baleful glare to Al-Haitham that your brother returns with a glare of his own.

“Oh, please. My sibling has told me everything that’s happened in your relationship,” then, as if to add salt to the wound, he strictly emphasizes, “Cynie.”

A muscle in your partner’s brow twitches.

“It’s great that you two are getting along!” You exclaim with a smile that could rival the sun.

They can’t say no to that face. They both have no choice but to reluctantly grumble a hesitant ‘yes…’ that has your eyes shining bright.

“I have our outing planned for today! I saw a promo in a restaurant that said if you can finish some kind of large meal in under an hour, you don’t have to pay for it! Not too sure how big it is, but I know I can eat it all. I also passed by this really cool place yesterday…”

They let you drag them by the arm across the city, shooting glares at each other and throwing subtle barbs when they think you aren’t looking.

You called that day the ‘brothers-in-law bonding day’. They hated every second of it and vowed to never talk to the other again.

Unless you asked them to, of course.

[theemporium]

38 and 53 for charles leclerc ff the smut promos list pleaseeee 💞

send in a prompt + name

38. "I'll let you do anything if you just touch me now"

53. "you're more than just a one night stand"

.

It was a mistake. 

A mistake the two of you decided was a one time deal and promised to never discuss again. A mistake that should have never happened in the first place. A mistake that would drag you both down if it ever got out. 

When you were introduced into the world of Formula One, the public knew you as one of the closest—if not the closest—best friend of Max Verstappen. Max was young and bright and ready to really start his career after signing with Red Bull Racing. You were his supportive best friend who dabbled in and out of races between your years at university and work. 

However, things started to change once you graduated and suddenly you were in the paddock for more than a weekend here or there. 

And suddenly, you were bumping into the likes of Charles Leclerc—a boy you knew so much of and yet nothing about. 

In the earlier years of Max’s career, Charles was nothing but the nuisance that Max would constantly complain about. He was the boy who drove recklessly, who was unfair, who would constantly push him off the track. 

As the boys got older and matured, Charles was just another face amongst the other Formula One drivers who you’d hear the odd thing about, here and there. Max was far more friendly with the boy, but their dinners out or time spent together never seemed to coincide with whenever you were in town. 

You officially met the Ferrari driver after the Monaco Grand Prix—and that was when the first of many mistakes were made. 

You kissed him. 

You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have. In fact, you should have never been out on that balcony in the first place. You should be out with the rest of the team, celebrating the fact your best friend just won one of the most prestigious races in motorsport history. 

But instead you were on a balcony with someone who could be considered his enemy, listening to the way he sounded so defeated about letting down his home country once again, and you just couldn’t help yourself from leaning over and placing your lips on his. 

The second mistake was just a few weeks later when a double Red Bull DNF and a grump Max made you take solace in some other paddock friends (knowing Max just needed space to be grumpy before he talked about it), and instead of dancing all night with friends, you found yourself hidden in the corner of some club making out with a certain Monegasque man. 

The biggest mistake was not even a week or so later, another country for another grand prix, only this time you had lost Max and the others and instead found yourself in Charles Leclerc’s hotel room. 

It all led you to now—summer break for the Formula One season—where you promised your best friend you would spend time with him in Monaco.

Except, instead of Max’s apartment, you were in his rival’s on the other side of Monte Carlo. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured against his lips, the plush sofa beneath your knees making it comfortable as you straddled the driver in the dimly lit living room. “This is a bad idea.” 

“It’s a great idea,” he argued as his head ducked down to press kisses down the column of your neck. 

“It’s a mistake,” you said firmly, but maybe you were trying to convince yourself more so than the boy underneath you. 

“All five times?” Charles humoured. 

“Those were one night stands,” you muttered, knowing full well you should be pulling away, creating some distance between you both as you spoke. “They didn’t mean anything—“ 

“You’re more than just a one night stand, cherie,” Charles groaned, hands around your waist tightening almost like he could read the thoughts in your head that wanted to move away from him. “You know that.” 

And maybe deep down you did. 

At least you knew he was different from every other one night stand you had before. You knew that the feelings you harboured for the Ferrari driver were stronger than you had felt for anyone before. You knew that you never enjoyed kissing someone the same way you did with him, or touching them too. 

You knew that Charles Leclerc was like nothing and no one you had ever experienced before. 

“What are we doing?” you whispered softly, your hands resting on his chest with his racing heart beating wildly beneath your palm. 

“We are enjoying each other and the pleasure we give each other,” he told you, his lips tracing over your pulse and you could have sworn you felt his lips twitch when your breath hitched. “And I can promise you I am enjoying every single moment of it.”

Your hands slid down his chest, pausing at the waistband of his sweatpants as you fiddled with the drawstrings. “Yeah?” 

He gulped a little. “Yeah.” 

“You enjoy me touching you, Leclerc?” 

The teasing tone of your voice wasn’t lost on Charles, not at all. But it was hard for him to even bite back when your fingers dipped beyond the waistband, your fingers wrapping around his cock and squeezing him in a way that made every thought in his head just stop.

“Shit,” he hissed between clenched teeth as his head fell to rest on your shoulder.

“That doesn’t sound very encouraging,” you murmured as your thumb swiped along the head of his cock, a soft whine escaping his lips as you did so.

“Baby, please,” he moaned, his soft pants fanning against the skin of your neck as he spoke. 

“Words, Charlie.” 

“I–” But the boy only let out a pathetic whine when you pulled your hand away, and it was quick reflexes that had his hands clamping down on your waist before you could jump off his lap completely. 

“I said words, baby, can’t do anything unless you say it,” you teased lightly, your palm pressing down the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Anything,” he rasped in a husky voice, his accent coating his words thicker. “I’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now.”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to hide your grin. “Anything?” 

“Anything,” he confirmed. 

“Get those sweatpants off, Leclerc,” you ordered him as you shuffled off his lap, your knees hitting the soft carpet. “I want your cock in my mouth.” 

Charles groaned, muttered prayers whispered under his breath as he quickly shed his sweatpants to the side.

.

[sloshr]

After watching through Side Order... I have a Few Thoughts.

[Spoilers ahead]

My Review of the Side Order DLC - Its little more than Gameplay.

Initial Opinion

- - - - - - - - - -

Overall; I like the gameplay mechanics initially, but the story absolutely feels lacking to me, imo. It feels like they were really banking on Side Order being Hard but... multiple of my friends finished it on their 2nd or 3rd run through the Spire.

That in itself isnt a problem! But... everyone felt sort of unsatisfied? There were no developments in the story, as we, Agent 8, were just assigned the task to Get to The Top of the Spire -> The Player Does That -> You beat a Boss -> Credits Roll (?)

On my watchthrough I literally said Please Say Sike 😭 because, dont take this poorly, but they were advertising Side Order as;

• Difficult (stated Multiple Times in basically every Trailer)

• Story Driven (You Uncover things as You Climb)

• Character and Lore Intensive (as shown by the trailers with all the concept art as well as promo art)

I dont feel like it was wrong to expect more based on how it was advertised.

But... if you complete the DLC in 1-2 runs, which is Very Much Possible, no buildup happens at all. The story was banking on the player struggling, and putting all the content behind repeat runs, which falls through and Doesnt really work/feel satisfying if the main goal is achieved in such a short time. I Feel like anyone who regularly plays Salmon Run will likely have a similar experience. And I feel kind of cheated? Because what we got was something that was Tell Not Show rather than the Show, Not Tell formula. And in my opinion, it really doesn't work as well at all. It puts all the major lore that the game has set up behind repetetive climbs (which never change btw, despite each climb being generated differently, its the same after a while) and you get about 1 Sentence of Exposition, with a Modlog from Marina if you are Lucky.

Side Order was (to me), after watching it all;

• Not Difficult, But Repetetive Gameplay (This easily runs people down, which would be fine if the tower had more than 1 setup or phase)

• Inital Story Setup with no complexities or stages. You climb the first Tower, Save Marina, Climb the Second Tower, Beat Order, and the credits Roll. In its most complex, you could fit what Side Order's Story is in 2-3 Sentences. Rather than Lore being revealed During the story, it feels Pushed to the Side as all of it is either in Text the player may never see (different climbs) or care to read (Marina's Mod Log)

• Use of Character Drops with no explaination / mention (The Agent 4 Boss, Anyone?) (This felt very Bait-y, with No Payoff)

Rating

- - - - -

If I had to give Side Order a Rating

4/10. At Best.

I am a bit disappointed with this as I feel like I was promised more, Storywise, and honestly a bit gameplay wise. I think it fails where other DLC has succeeded Due to being Built in such a way where anything engaging is stuck behind barely changing gameplay. It is not built in a way where the experience cant fail to show you whats important to the characters and the worldbuilding. It relies too much on telling you whats happening rather than the world showing you. Its too Simple, and It Doesnt Work, personally, in a series that contains Octo Expansion.

Which is Sad to me!! It had so much wasted potential and I really hope this isn't the last we're going to see of the concept, we get to see ideas actually built into the story, and... maybe find Agent 4.

Conclusion

- - - - - - - -

Tldr; Side Order had a good concept, but failed in execution for being simple and gameplay dependent, which was ultimately disappointing due to it being advertised as something more for all involved.

It was an alright attempt. The experience will just be known to me as... well. Baby's First Rouge-like. Nothing worldbreaking.

(PS, this isnt meant to be mean spirited or overly critical, I just love the Splatoon Series so I give it Tough Love. This is just my personal view on the DLC)

Thank you for Reading! Feel free to share or add any thoughts!

[flwrbo]

being an OF couple with modern day!Law & having to take promo pics..

The two of you had gained quite a mass following with your adorable juxtaposition of Law’s hard demeanor, always dressed in his all black outfits, rings adorning his fingers, tattoos on full show to your frilly pink and white sweetheart attitude. The two of you were actually able to rent the time of a small photographer much to Law’s dismay. “It's different when I have full control over the angles and editing.” He’d grumbled. “Please baby you’re gonna look so hot!!!”

So here you two were. You’d made sure to tell the photographer ahead of time that he would appreciate the ability to give feedback on any editing done, which she’d agreed to wholeheartedly. The two of you had prepared your own clothes (and things to wear when you were not wearing those clothes) for the shoot.

Law had chosen his classic black jeans with a white tee that hugged his frame perfectly while you’d gone with an adorable white slip dress that fit all your curves in the right places.

Before the shoot, the photographer gave the two of you some space, leaving the small enclosed sitting area. “Are you excited?” you look up prettily through your mascara’d eyelashes at your boyfriend from the settee.

“Mm,” he mumbled, using his thumb to wipe away some excess lip gloss from the corner of your lips. “Excited to see you pose all pretty, maybe.”

“Law,” you pout. “i wish you were more enthusiastic,” he tsks at this.

“Don’t pout at me, I hate that.” he leans down for a kiss. “It'll be worth it in the end when this shoot takes off,” he shrugs.

“I’ll make it worth it, too.” you promise, leaning in to kiss him through his jeans. He was so tall standing over you. “and the fans are gonna go crazy over how hot you look.” he smirks, putting his hand on your head to guide your peppered kisses.

“I know you will.”

A few knocks at your door let you know it’s time for the shoot. You squeal excitedly, leaning up for one last kiss from your boyfriend before the two of you make your way to the shooting area.

You’re shooting in your own bedroom, with the addition of a new mirror, light fixtures and cameras around for the set.

“Once this is over, I’m gonna ruin you on these bedsheets,” Law leans down to whisper in your ear.

The blush it causes to run over your body matches the pink on your outfit nicely as Law bends you into pretty positions that Twitter loses their minds over.

It’s nice. But nicer is the soreness in your legs once Law is finally done with you.

[igncrxntripley]

headcanons: TJD’s secret weapon aesthetic

request (anonymous): Idk why but I love the idea of judgement days secret weapon having the complete opposite aesthetic as the rest of them, super pink and hyper femme vibes

A/N: i was immediately obsessed and knew i needed to write some headcanons for this pls forgive me 

tags: @babybatlover @ripleyswhore (i know it’s not a full update but i wasn’t about to not tage you both like pls)

the judgement day’s secret weapon was the perfect fit for the group while also sticking out like a sore thumb 

when everyone else was in black and leather, accessorizing with chains and spikes...she was adding pink and anything feminine

finn is often the one to speak out about it the most, wanting her to match the group so they look more like a cohesive unit

“come on, baby, just wear the black outfit this one time? i promise you can change after we’re done!”

she’s got damian and rhea wrapped around her fingers though and they always defend her

“she can wear whatever she wants, balor.”

dominik was usually the one who she’d drag with her to go shopping for clothes because he was always going to tell her she looked good in everything

“should i get this? or this? or this?”

“all of it.”

while rhea was always doing her makeup super dark and kept her looks fairly simple, Y/N was the complete opposite

she loved glitter on her eyes, cute clips or accessories in her hair, and usually paired a black TJD t-shirt with pink or purple shorts and jackets

her favorite accessory? heart shaped, cherry flavored lollipops; she always had one during promos or at ringside and damian was prone to keeping extra in his pockets (he loved watching her suck them just as much)

other superstars would take the piss out on Y/N for how much she stuck out from the rest of the group and her partners would immediately stand up for her

one thing about their secret weapon though? she knew how to defend herself. she may look sweet and innocent but she was just as harsh as her partners in the ring

why did they call her their secret weapon? her sweet, innocent, feminine appearance always served as the perfect distraction against their opponents

it was easy to say that finn ate his words about Y/N not matching the group every time she came in clutch at a match

[toskarin]

»GET://NOISE« WORKING WITH RI47 HEAVY INDUSTRIES FOR PROFIT AND UNPROFIT

so, I do feel like I should clarify my actual policy on using my tracks in projects. I do this every now and again, but to be fair, circumstances change pretty often

these aren't blanket licences or anything because honestly a few of these are like... complicated enough that it's literally easier to just talk to someone after the conditions are met and give them permission in writing. in nearly every single case, the first step is "contact me directly and we'll make things work"

if you're working on a project to raise money for Palestinian aid, I am especially interested in working with you. of course, I will be checking to make sure the money is actually going to help the people it's supposed to, as I'm unfortunately aware of how many people are trying to take advantage of these tragedies for their own benefit

a case-by-case reference with slightly more detail is included below

-

if you want to download Ri47 music to listen to but can't afford it... legally, I care that you pirate my music. personally, never tell me about it. I don't want to see that, I'm not signed to a label that seeks out uses of my music, and I understand that the international economy is in shambles. ideologically, I am pro-piracy. don't do anything that will legally force me to care (using my work in a commercial project without permission, for example) and we'll both keep on living our lives as we were

if you want to remix a Ri47 track and need stems… I don't have the stems either. I'm bad at recordkeeping, tune my samples by ear, and primarily do my own last pass of mixing in audacity. I might have some stems kicking around, but the odds are that I'm as empty-handed as you are. sorry about that lol

if you want to use a Ri47 song in your freeware (read: not for sale) project... that's probably fine. contact me first, not because I'm going to spring a fee on you, but because a few of my songs are already licensed out to projects that make it a little more challenging to hand them out. this is mostly applicable if you're making rpgmaker games you don't intend on selling

if you want to use a Ri47 song in your small-scale commercial project... if you're making a promo video for a stream, need music for a podcast, or anything like that, contact me first. in almost every case, as long as what you're making isn't a persistent standalone work (read: something you are selling directly, with my music as part of the package) the most I'll usually ask is that you buy one copy of the album

if you want to use a Ri47 song in a more serious commercial project... you can contact me directly to get a licence. I usually don't work on royalties unless you are selling a product that I'd consider "reselling" my work (read: an OST album or other primarily audio-based product) and I'm happy to work with people to find a deal that works for them

if you want to use a Ri47 song in a project that is intended to raise funds for a not-for-profit charity, especially in providing aid to Palestine… the freeware conditions apply. let me know about your plans beforehand, because I almost certainly want to be more directly involved, but there are very few cases where I would say no to this sort of thing

if you need original music or sound design done by Ri47... I'm booked out about a year or so in advance, so I can't promise I can actually join a team actively, but this is extremely contextual. if you need some UI sounds or a handful of piano pieces to feature in a project, I'm much more likely to find time for that

if you want me to feature on an album or compilation, whether that be contributing a song or remixing one that you provide… contact me and let's talk. this one's the most complicated conditions-wise, but I don't bite

the bottom line being... I work within all budgets and project scopes. even if you think the answer is no, drop me a line and you might be surprised. if you're unsure, I'll happily help you figure out what exactly you need. it's easier than taxes!

[thesupreme316]

i’m back! how would aew boys react to reader having a bianca moment she has a mystery opponent they come out and beat her in a couple seconds https://youtu.be/XvblHAfgCwo

i’m bad at explaining if you can can you add Kenny Omega

AEW Stars React: You Losing Your Championship Within a Minute

Pairings: MJF x Fem!Reader, Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader, Ricky Starks x Fem!Reader, Darius Martin x Fem!Reader, Hook x Fem!Reader, Eddie Kingston x Fem!Reader, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader, Daniel Garcia x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Supreme Speaks: thanks to @cassie0sstuff for requesting this (i always love your requests). I still have a lot of requests so Imma try my best to release 2 or 3 things tomorrow. umm thanks for supporting me and reading my crazy thoughs. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: "mature language", mentions of bribery and my sugar daddy Christian Cage

Taglist (if yall wanna join, lemme know): @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @cassie0sstuff @hookerforhook @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @sheinthatfandom

Even though you can click on this link, imma elaborate:

After what happened, you sat up in the ring in disbelief

You were mad at the lack of communication, mad at the unwanted surprise

But you were mainly mad at yourself for not seeing this earlier

You were just overall really upset at the entire situation

But if you were feeling this way, imagine how your significant other/best friend felt…

Kenny Omega

THIS MAN WOULD FEEL SOME TYPE OF WAY

Immediately asks who signed off on this and who didn’t tell you

“I swear to god that I didn’t know. But whoever did, better pray that I don’t kick their ass.”

Is upset that this decision was made without his input

Would def be heartbroken after seeing your pouting face

Immediately hugs you telling you that he’s sorry and that you’ll get your rematch soon

After comforting you, he goes into executive producer mode and tries to figure out how to give you a decent rematch where everything makes sense and has meaning

Promises you that you’ll get the match that you deserve (might fight Tony tbh…me too, I wanna fight Tony)

Eddie Kingston

It took everything in him not to run out to the ring and kick your opponent’s ass

But he didn’t…instead he linked everything back to his enemies

I think he would see this situation as people trying to hurt him through you (or you paying for his words/actions)

“Doll, I’m sorry that some people are literally out to get you for stupid shit. But I promise that I will help you get your championship back.”

Immediately hugs you while you try to calm down

Just like any situation where you are in danger/or upset, he’ll take this very personally

Will help you in your rematch by any means

Shit..because Eddie is a ride or die, he might put his title on the line for yours

Darius Martin

BABY BOY IS DISTRAUGHT FOR YOU

Runs down to the ring and comforts you while you look on in disbelief

He hugs you, whispers sweet comforting words to you

Promises that you will become champion again

“Listen, they don’t deserve it. But you do and because of that, you will become champion again.”

Hypes you up and is glad to be a part of your revenge plan

Does anything you ask, as long as he’s helping

Is ringside for your rematch and stops other people from interfering with your match

Daniel Garcia

So….SINCE THIS MAN IS FREE FROM THE SHACKLES AND CHAINS OF THE JAS

He has found his humility

After making sure you’re okay, he tries to go after them; but you stop him out of exhaustion

Now, he’s concerned about making sure your mental health is okay (as this is nerve-wracking)

Mans gets on the mic a week later ripping into your opponents in your absence

“Y/N made that championship, not the other way around. She didn’t need to be a whining, cowardly bitch to get it.”

I think Daniel would try his best to help you get inside of your opponent’s head (one good thing he learned from the JAS)

Will post on social media your merch, promos, and pictures (especially when your opponent posts something else)

“Anyways, stan Y/N”

Christian Cage

He’s suing everyone in sight (my hero)

Your opponent? Sued. The referee? sued. Tony Kahn? He is now in debt to Christian.

I think he would use his smart and manipulation tactics to really get the championship

You didn’t even have to ask him, he just did it for you

“Don’t worry sweetheart, everything is gonna be alright.”

Makes your opponent sign a contract that is in your huge favor

Then makes Luchasuarus choke slam them; you cover them (all within 5 seconds)

You win and now you and Christian roam around the locker room flaunting your championships

Hook

Hook mad? No, no, no. Mans is pissed

I think this along with what’s happening with Jack Perry has really sent him over the rails

He’s kicking everyone in sight, slapping people, throwing the security over the barricade

Tries to suplex your opponent but Jack stops him (which leads to a chase around the arena)

“That bastard can’t run for long. And your coward for an opponent won’t be able to defend that championship when we’re done with them.”

This leads to a tag match between you/Hook vs. your opponent/Jack

You got your lick back (best believe it)

You and Hook won your titles back within a match (a first in AEW history)

Ricky Starks

Mans in disbelief

Someone shut his mouth before he catches flies (god forbid he’s in his heel era cause everyone would be flamed)

I think he would be genuinely pissed off to the point where you couldn’t even calm him down

Immediately goes on a rant on the mic

��First, this company screws me over. Now it’s Y/N? Y’all have really fucked up! Are you lopsided, cross-eyed, inbred people just bored?”

….don’t argue with me, I can see him saying it…

Since he’s suspended, he manages you and you come back with a new attitude

After some “cheating” (Ricky calls it guaranteeing a victory), you win your championship back

Ricky’s there; just smiling and feels great that he was able to help you gain something back that meant so much to you

MJF:

Mans straight up buys it back

No, deadass, that’s it

He’s done with taking the higher road with certain shit/people so he goes back to bribing

Max literally just keeps upping the price

“I know that your poor, stank asses need more than 100 dollars so how about 1,000 dollars? Maybe you can buy some soap.”

After buying the belt and the reign, he throws you a coronation where he proclaims you the queen of the women’s division

Dares anyone to say otherwise

He also renegotiates your contract which strictly prohibits matches that you are not prepared for/made aware of

“I just wanna look out for you. Since this dumbass company can’t.”

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 9

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : After relapsing, Y/N wakes up next to Marshall. She confronts Cassie and has an anxiety attack.

Tags : Angst, Comfort

CW : Bullying, Alcohol, Drugs, Relapse, Anxiety attack, Mention of masturbation

When you woke up, you were feeling groggy and nauseous. You groaned at the memory from last night. You felt some stirring beside you. It was Marshall, laying next to you on top of the covers. 

Hey, he said in a raspy voice. How are you feeling ? Better ? 

Mmmmh, you moaned. 

He groaned and yawned. 

How about we try some words ? He asked. How are you feeling, Y/N ? 

Ashamed, you mumbled. 

Shocker. 

You stared at him as he rubbed his eyes. You couldn’t help but think that he looked perfect, even in the morning. He was pretty damn sexy, only wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt on. He scratched his beard before looking at you. 

Did you sleep here ? You asked. 

No, I slept in the garden but decided to come back here before you woke up, he said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Yes I slept here. I wanted to make sure you were alright. 

Thanks, you said. You could have slept in your bedroom, you know ? Instead of here with me. 

And risk finding you dead in a puddle of your own barf ? Nope, he groaned. I don’t feel like having forensics in the house on a Sunday morning. The press would have a field day, though. 

Oh my God, the press…, you murmured as you remembered the flashing camera from last night. 

I called Paul after you fell asleep, he said. He’s going to try and get the picture deleted. He gave me so much shit about it. 

I’m sorry, you whispered as you took your face in your hands. 

You were embarrassed. There was so much that you needed to apologize for. 

It’s fine, he shrugged. It’s Paul anyway. He gives me shit all the time. That’s kind of his job, you know ? 

I’m so sorry I ruined your night… 

You didn’t, he said in a softer voice. I mean, I could have done without the worry, for sure, but my night pretty much sucked anyway. 

Why ? You asked. 

I hate that kind of events, he shrugged. I was there because the Lions PR Team wanted me to do some promo shit. I was supposed to meet someone there to talk about that but I ended up swarmed by drunk people bugging me about the album. And then, I had to take some ho to my place, he chuckled.

God, I am so embarrassed, you whined. 

About what part exactly ? He grinned. 

All of it ? You said. I mean, you had to help my grown-ass to undress and shower and you held my hair while I threw up. That’s pretty damn embarrassing. 

He chuckled and looked at you. 

Yup, he simply said. 

I’d say the outfit and kissing people was pretty embarrassing, too. And… Oh my God I danced, too, you whined. 

Oh yeah. That was some dancing, he grinned. 

Just kill me, please, you whined. 

He let out a laugh as you buried your face in your hands. Suddenly, the idea of digging a hole and dying there was quite appealing.

It’s fine, he said with a chuckle. I mean, you got some good moves. Didn’t expect you to, to be honest. 

Yeah, I don’t know about that… 

It wasn’t that bad, I promise. You put on quite a show on the dance floor. 

God, I made a fool of myself, you sighed. 

I don’t think you did, he said earnestly. Everyone there was doing the same thing anyway… But yeah, that was a bit foolish. I mean, it’s just not you, Y/N. 

You nodded softly. 

I don’t deserve you being so nice to me, you sighed. 

Me being an ass to you wouldn’t help matters, he shrugged. Besides, you already know what you did wrong. You’re a grown woman. 

I thought you were going to kill me, back there, you whispered. 

Dramatic, much ? He chuckled. I mean, yeah, I wasn’t really pleased with you. I was mostly worried, though… 

Mmmh. 

I thought you were doing good, you know ? He explained. You were sober for, what… Four months ? 

Yeah, going on five, you said with a hint of sadness. And now I threw it all away…

Slipping… it happens, he said. What matters is that you’re able to dust yourself off and try again. 

Easy for you to say, you mumbled. You’ve been sober for fifteen years. 

He scoffed and shook his head. 

You’re not the only person it happens to, you know ? He sighed. I’ve tried to quit a few times before I managed to stop for good. I’ve slipped-up and relapsed a few times. Even after rehab. 

You did ? You asked. 

Yeah. So I’ve been there and I know how you feel. I just wish I would have known you were struggling, he said. 

I wasn’t struggling, you said. I mean… There were times lately, when I missed drinking, but that’s about it. I think that… I have been feeling a bit lonely, mostly. 

You didn’t tell me that, he pointed out. 

Does it matter ? 

Of course it does, he said softly. You matter. 

You let out a small “aw” and blushed. He sat up and stroked your shoulder. 

So, what happened last night that led you to this ? Walk me through it, ok ? 

You sighed and proceeded to tell him everything. How happy you were to see Cassie, how generous and kind she was to you and how much you didn’t want to disappoint her or let her down. How her calling you a dud made you want to gain her approval so badly. You also mentioned that, regardless of the fact that you had messed up, you looked up to her and you wished you could be more like her but only seemed to get as sociable when you were under the influence. 

This girl is a bully, he scoffed. 

No she’s not, you replied. 

That’s high school mean girl 101, Y/N, he said. You do realize she used you as a prop, right ? She played with you like a doll, she dressed you up in that skimpy outfit, ignored you when she wanted to flirt with people and used you to arouse men, either by kissing you or suggesting threesomes…

Well, if you put it like that, it does make her look pretty bad, you mumbled. But she’s my friend ! 

She's not, he groaned. Talia is your friend. Jamal is your friend. I am your friend. This girl ? Nope. 

You sighed. Maybe he was right on some level, but you didn’t want to hear it. After all, Cassie had been there for you numerous times. 

Well, I have to see her today, you said. I still have stuff in her hotel room. 

I’ll take you, he offered. But first, we should discuss what you’re going to do. 

That’s fair. What am I going to do ? 

First, you’re going to tell Talia and Jamal as soon as I take you home. They’re your roommates and they deserve to know that kind of thing. Lying about it would be a shitty idea anyway, he said. 

Talia’s going to kill me, you said. 

She’s not, he said softly. Then, first thing tomorrow, you’re going to a meeting and calling your sponsor. 

Meetings are on wednesday, you said. 

I’ll get you an appointment with a therapist, then. You need to see someone. The earlier the better. If today wasn’t Sunday, you’d be there already. 

You nodded, but tears were welling in your eyes. 

I can’t do it, you said as you choked on your words. Marshall, I just… I can’t. I can’t face people and tell them I fucked up. 

Hey, he said softly as he took your hand in his. Yes you can, and you will. Shit happens. Do you remember what I said when I took you to the observatory ? 

That I’m not alone ? 

Exactly. Your road to recovery doesn’t have to be a lonely one, he reminded you as he stroked your cheek. I got you. So do Talia and Jamal. The others at the studio too. They love you. 

They do ? You asked. 

Yeah. Everyone thinks you’re great. They keep going on about how cute you are. Especially when you fall asleep on the couch, he chuckled. 

Thank you, you whispered as you let your head roll on his shoulder. I love them too, you know ? 

He kissed the top of your head and decided to get up. 

Get up, Dobby, I’ll make you breakfast, he said. 

Are you really going to call me that ? You groaned before letting out a yawn. 

Yep, he said with a smile. You were right, you do look like a house elf in my tee-shirt. 

I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Harry Potter fan, you said with a grin. 

My youngest was obsessed with the movies and books for a while, he chuckled. She’d be so proud of me right now. Anyway, breakfast in ten minutes, ok ? 

You nodded and took some time to stretch as he walked towards the door. 

Oh, and, Dobby ? You’re much hotter in my clothes than in last night’s dress, he added with a wink. 

He left the room and you were speechless. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. 

Have you seen my phone ? You asked Marshall when you walked in the kitchen to the smell of pancakes. 

No idea about your phone, but your purse is on the table, he said. 

You grabbed your phone, that was inside your handbag and checked your phone. You had about fifty notifications. Had you been sleeping that long ? Had the world ended without you knowing ? Was someone dead ?

From : Unknown. “Hey. It’s Jared. Loved meeting you tonight. When are you free for dinner ?”

From : Talia. “Is that really you in the picture with Em ???” 

From : Talia. “Hand holding and stuff ?!?! What is happening ??? I thought you were with Cassie ???” 

From : Talia. “CALL. ME. BACK. I need to knoooooow !!!” 

From : Talia. “If you call me back I promise I will let the questionable outfit slide. We need to talk about your fashion sense tho…”

From : Talia. “I know the two of you are probably busy right now, but call me back when you can ??? I hope he is ravishing the shit out of you right now :)”

From : Unknown. “I just saw the pictures online. I didn’t realize you were with Em ! Sorry I suggested that date. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful at all…!” 

It didn’t take too long to figure out the photos had been published. You quickly went online and saw a bunch of headlines. You also received messages from people you hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if, suddenly, they remembered you. You knew it was no coincidence.You clicked on an article titled “Eminem in love ?!”. 

“Eminem is known to be somewhat of a recluse and very private about his personal life, but he was spotted leaving a fancy fundraising event in Detroit yesterday night, holding hands with an unknown woman. No smile on his face, as usual, but his jacket on her shoulder and the hand-holding says it all ! The rapper was reportedly holding her tightly and keeping her close when they exited the party and hopped in a car, accompanied by his bodyguards. The news has fans in a frenzy and desperate for details. We do not know the name of the woman, who wore a stunning Sandro dress and Jimmy Choo accessories (no doubt gifted by her wealthy beau). It is the first time the Rap God was spotted with a woman since his divorce from ex-wife Kim, with whom he shares three children.”

Fuck, you mumbled under your breath. 

What’s wrong ? He asked as he placed a plate in front of you. 

You gave him your phone. He took a minute to read the article and groaned. 

Guess Paul was too late, he mumbled. I’m sorry about that, Y/N. 

I’m sorry, you said sheepishly. 

I don’t care, he said. I mean, I’m used to dating rumors, you know ? It just sucks for you… 

Well… My phone is buzzing with people congratulating me, you giggled. And at least I don’t look wasted on the pics. Although I think it just cost me a date. 

What date ? He asked suspiciously.

A guy named Jared asked me out yesterday, you explained. He’s a football player. 

Jared Goff ? The Lions quarterback ?! 

Yeah, him. Anyway, he just texted and apologized for asking me on a date and hitting on me, you said. 

Sorry for accidentally cockblocking you, he chuckled.

Maybe that’s karma ? You said with a shy smile. Anyway, I don’t think I would have said yes. I wasn’t really myself last night, after all. Poor guy would have been disappointed

He chuckled and you ate breakfast. 

You know, maybe it’s for the best, he commented between bites. Maybe you should hold back on the dating thing. You’re going to have to focus on recovery anyway. 

I guess, you groaned. That’s unfair though. 

How so ? He asked. 

I can’t get drunk, I can’t take pills, I can’t even smoke a fucking cigarette and now I can’t get laid ?! You blurted out. 

You could tell he wasn’t expecting that statement, as he almost spilled his orange juice. 

Classy, he grinned. 

I’m serious, though, you pouted. I’m feeling lonely. I want affection. I want hugs…

He smiled as he put an arm around your shoulders. 

That’s easily remedied, he said softly.

… and I want sex,you continued. 

Aaaand we’re done, he chuckled as he let go of you. 

How did you do it ? You asked. How did you manage to stay abstinent ? Also, when did you start dating again ? 

You’re 27, for God’s sake, do I really have to explain to you how masturbation works, Y/N ? He groaned as your face reddened. 

But it’s not the same, though, you said. I want contact, I want intimacy. Maybe I should get a friend with benefits…

Right, he chortled. Good luck with that. 

You don’t think I could get one ?! You asked in an offended tone. 

Oh, believe me, after the show you put on last night, I know you could get absolutely anyone, he chuckled. But a lot of people seem to think you are spoken for, now. By yours truly, no less. 

Until you put out a statement, that is, you replied. 

Yeah, I’m not doing that. 

What ?! You asked in disbelief. 

A statement will get people talking. Saying nothing and waiting for the thing to die out is probably the best option, he explained. Besides, I wouldn’t be offended if people thought I was with you. I don’t really mind, to be honest. 

So, you’re not worried that it would cockblock you ? 

Nope. If anything, people might be leaving me alone on the subject for a while. I’m not really into dating anyway, he shrugged. 

Are you some sort of asexual hermit monk ? you asked teasingly. 

I think we’ve established that I’m not, he said with a smirk. Unlike some people, though, I know how to keep it in my pants. 

Oh, I can keep it in my pants, you said as you rolled your eyes. I just don’t really want to. 

Right, he chortled. 

Anyway, do you know if Porter is seeing anyone ?  

He froze as you asked the question and dropped the glass he had in hand, causing it to shatter on the floor. 

Shit, he groaned. You’re not serious right ?!

Relax, I’m joking, you giggled. You should see your face, though. It’s hilarious. 

You’re impossible, he said, rolling his eyes. 

You chuckled and helped him clear the glass pieces on the floor. 

Anyway, I get how you’re feeling. But just be careful, ok ? You need to be safe and healthy. That should come first. Not your sexual urges. To answer your question, I didn’t date for a couple of years after getting sober. I just focused on my family and music. Also, I have found that exercising really gets your mind off… You know, he said with a grin. 

I’ll keep that in mind, you chuckled. 

And if you need hugs, I’m here, he said with a smile. Just hugs though. 

You giggled and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

Thanks for being so amazing, you said. Thank you for being here. 

Anything for you, Dobby, he chuckled. 

Anything ? you smirked. Really ? 

Oh, man… Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this ? He sighed with a grin. 

Well, I do look amazing in that Saint Laurent jacket…, you began. I mean, the pictures in the article prove it. 

Not happening, nope, he said as he shook his head. 

Can’t blame a girl for trying, you giggled. Your closet is full of great pieces. 

I’ll tell you what, he said with a smile, if you’re good and put in some work towards your recovery, I might let you borrow some stuff. 

Really ? You squealed. Even the jacket ?

Yeah. Even the jacket. For every sobriety milestone, you get to borrow a thing for my closet. Except for my sneakers and a few pieces of jewelry. The rest is fair game, he said. 

I’m going to crush recovery, you said cockily. 

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dobby, he chuckled. You need to stick to therapy, go to meetings, and mostly, you have to call me or anyone else before you fuck up. Not after. Understood ? 

Yes, sir, you giggled. Totally unrelated, but is 10 hours sober a milestone ? 

Go and take a shower and get dressed, he said as he shook his head. I think I have the clothes you left here last time around there somewhere. Then, I’ll take you to the hotel, ok ? 

An hour later, you knocked at the door of Cassie’s hotel room. Marshall was waiting for you in the parking lot. He offered to go up with you, but you figured that you needed to have a talk with your friend, one on one. As much as you didn’t want to believe what Marshall was telling you about her using you, you wanted things to be clear. 

Hey chérie, she said with a smile as she opened the door and let you into the suite. Last night was sooo fun. I do have a bit of a hangover, though. 

Oh yeah ? You asked awkwardly. 

A guy I met took me to an afterparty, she explained. I ended up coming back here in the morning with a couple of people. They just left. 

Oh, did you…? 

Yes, we fucked, she giggled. 

Speaking of which… Can I talk to you ? 

Of course, she shrugged. 

You sat on the couch and your anxiety levels started to rise. You didn’t quite know where to begin. 

What, you mean to tell me that you got laid by Eminem last night ? she chuckled. 

W-What ?! No, absolutely not, you said. 

Relax, she said. I saw the pictures online, but I figured nothing happened. If that’s any comfort, I don’t think anyone is going to believe it anyway. No offense but… You couldn’t get someone like that. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. Was your friend seriously implying that you weren’t good enough for Marshall ?! You sort of knew that already, but it stung. 

What do you mean by that, Cass ? 

What ? Just the truth, Baby, she shrugged. Men like that, they like beautiful, interesting girls. Not that you don’t look good, but… You’re sort of plain, you know ? You see what I mean, don’t you ? 

I don’t, you said. 

Whatever, she said. I just think you’re not the type to hang out with someone like that. Even as a friend, you know ? I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that. I’m just being honest here. I’m your friend. 

Is that why you basically dragged me into a threesome with him ? Because we’re friends ? 

Oh God, you really haven’t changed, have you ? she asked with a laugh. 

You bit your lip. 

Seriously, you were always so sensitive, Ms Goody Two Shoes. I flirted, it was a joke, alright ? We had kissed earlier because you were being initiating. You’re the one who told me you were horny, remember ? I don’t see what the big deal is. Nothing happened. Even if it did… You would have had a great experience, she said as she rolled her eyes. 

I wasn’t initiating, you muttered. 

You said you were horny, she pointed out. 

Only because of the stuff you gave me, you squealed. 

I gave you this because I knew you wouldn’t have a great time otherwise, Y/N. And guess what ? You had a great time. You danced, you flirted…You were finally acting normal. 

I was drunk. 

What’s the big deal ? She sighed. It happens to everyone. You were drunk, so what ? No one died. 

I just… What I mean to say is… I don’t feel comfortable with what happened last night. It doesn’t sit well with me. It’s not who I am, you know ? You tried to explain, while keeping your composure. 

Maybe you should ask yourself the right questions, Y/N, she scoffed. 

Meaning ? 

Is this really who you want to be ? A 27 year-old dork who is still in school, single, living with two roommates, with a sad social life ? You could do so much better with your life. 

In this instant, she managed to break your heart. Recovery and yesterday’s fuck-up aside, you were pretty proud of who you were. Granted, you didn’t have a lot of friends, a boyfriend or a glamorous job. You weren’t a homeowner either. But you always thought you were doing pretty well, especially considering the hand you had been dealt. 

Is it what you think ? You asked as your voice broke. That I’m not good enough ? 

I didn’t say that, she defended herself. 

I thought you were my friend, you muttered. 

I am your friend, Y/N. I want you to thrive, she shrugged. You should be thanking me. Honestly, do you have a lot of people in your life who want the best for you ? 

I do, you said, feeling extremely defensive. I have Talia and Jamal, I have Marshall… 

For how long though ? she asked. 

What do you mean ? 

I’m just thinking that, if you weren’t such a dud, maybe you’d have more people around you, you know ? You’d have more friends. People you meet would stick around. You’d have a boyfriend. Hell, maybe Simon wouldn’t have left you. 

You swallowed dryly and got up. You decided this was your cue to leave. 

I can’t take this anymore. Goodbye, Cassie, you said as you grabbed your things before exiting the room. 

Y/N, wait… 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when you got to the parking lot. As he saw you come, Marshall immediately got out of the car and engulfed you in a hug. 

What’s wrong? He asked. 

I’m fine, you lied with a breaking voice. 

Bullshit, he sighed. You’re crying. What happened ?

You didn’t talk. Instead, you simply looked in his eyes. As you stared at him, you were reminded of Cassie’s words. “For how long ?”. Suddenly, something hit you and you felt scared. You realized that you were playing a dangerous game. In a matter of months, he had become a constant in your life. Most of the time, not a week went by without you seeing him at least twice. You texted all the time, whether it was to talk about your day or simply to exchange silly jokes. He was always there for you but, as thankful as you were, you were scared of the day he wouldn’t be around anymore. It would come eventually. Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe there was something about you that made people want to leave. And, let’s face it, she was definitely onto something when she said that girls like you usually aren’t interesting enough for people like him. He walked into your life unexpectedly, but you feared the moment he would walk out. He kept on gazing at you, waiting for you to talk, but you couldn’t. 

Talk to me, he said softly. 

I have to go, you whispered. 

Go where ? I don’t understand, Y/N. 

You took a step back and muttered an apology before starting to walk out of the parking lot. At that moment, nothing made sense anymore. You realized that maybe you had been wrong all along. Maybe you were in fact a 27 year-old failure. If so, why bother people ? They would be better off without you, right ? Hell, it wasn’t just about Marshall. It was about all your friends. Maybe you should do them a favor and leave them be. 

You were still wearing your heels from last night, as you obviously didn’t have any spare pair of shoes at Marshall’s place and had not taken the time to change since retrieving your stuff from the hotel room. Your feet hurt but you kept on walking.

Y/N, Marshall called as he followed you. 

Please leave me alone, you said. 

I’m not leaving you alone when you’re crying and just had a slipping episode, he said as he grabbed your arm. Just come with me, ok ? We’ll talk. 

Get away from me !!!! You yelled as you pushed him. 

He looked at you, taken aback. It was the first time you yelled at him and you could tell he was not expecting it. His eyes were full of questions. But what exactly could you say that would actually make sense ? 

I’m sorry, you whispered. I just… I have to… 

You were panting and slurring your words. It was all too much. The only thing you wanted was to get out of here, but as seconds went by, it was clear that your body would not cooperate. You felt a pain in your chest and your heart was pounding. Despite your attempt to move, you were unable to. To make things worse, your eyes were wide open but you couldn’t quite see. It was all a blur. You were feeling trapped. You were on the floor, your hand on your chest. 

Y/N, Marshall said in a soft yet alarmed voice. You need to breathe, ok ? 

I… C-can’t, you stuttered. 

Yes, you can, he reassured you. I’ll help you. I’m going to touch your hand. Is that alright ? 

You tried to nod, to the best of your ability, but your body felt so stiff that you weren’t sure if Marshall could see your reaction or not. Regardless, he got closer and gently took your hand in his before placing it on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat. 

Now, you’re going to try and inhale through your nose and take in as much air as you can, ok ? Can you do that for me ? 

I…

Don’t speak for now. Just inhale. As deep as you can, he directed. And then, exhale slowly. 

Your first tentative attempt to breathe deeply was a complete failure. You thought you were going to end up choking. Yet, after a while, you managed to breathe a bit more normally, slowly. Your hand was against Marshall’s chest, his own breath guiding yours. One of his hands was on your back, gently holding you. 

That’s it. You’re doing so good, Y/N, he encouraged you. 

Mar…, you began. 

Shhh. Just keep breathing for now, ok ? 

As minutes went by, you were shivering, but thankfully, you were breathing properly. 

You’re safe, he said gently. It may not feel like this right now, but I promise. I got you. 

You closed your eyes as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. You stayed like this for a while, unable to tell if it was seconds or hours. Eventually, you came back to your senses. 

Do you feel better ? He asked. 

Yes, you whispered. I’m so sorry. 

What the hell are you apologizing for ? He chuckled. Having a panic attack ? Yeah, you better apologize for things that are out of your control… 

You let out a small, exhausted laugh. He kissed the top of your head and you went back to the car. Your body was stiff and tense. 

Let’s get you home now, he said gently as he started driving. You need some rest. 

Can we… not ? You asked anxiously. 

What’s wrong, Y/N ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you replied. I just…

If you’d had any tears left, you would have cried. Instead, you just choked on your words. You took a breath and tried to speak more clearly. 

I don’t want to face them, you explained. Especially Talia. I can’t disappoint her like this, you know ? 

They’re your friends, he said. Sure, once you come clean about what happened and the fact that you used again, they won’t be too pleased. But you’ll be fine. Because they love you and they care about you. 

For how long, though ? You blurted out. 

What ? 

They would be better off without me. Everyone would be better off without me, you said. I’m a failure. I stall people. Who wants that ? 

You’re only saying that because you slipped and you’re tired, he replied as he shook his head. Is that what your friend told you ? Of all people, I don’t think she is the one you should listen to. 

No, I figured that myself, you said. But as much as I am mad at Cassie right now… She got a few things right. 

Oh yeah ? About what ? He scoffed. 

I’m a failure, you simply said. 

That’s not true.

No, Marshall, you don’t understand ! She said I'm a 27 year-old dork who is still in school, single, living with two roommates with a sad social life. That is absolutely true. She also said that… It doesn’t make sense why someone like you would hang out with… someone like me. She’s not wrong about that either. 

He shook his head and scoffed. 

I hang out with you because I like you, Y/N, he said. And because of everything else she said. 

What do you mean ? You asked with a confused look. 

Let’s dissect, ok ? You’re 27. That’s a fact. I don’t have to have an opinion about it. Same goes for the single thing. As for the rest… I think it’s great that you are still in school. It shows that you are driven and that you are full of ambition. You’re getting a fucking PhD, for God’s sake. Not a lot of people can do that, you know ? You’re the smartest person I know. Most of the time, when you talk about your work, I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying. But I see how passionate you are, and it’s fucking inspiring. And you are a dork. But  it’s fucking great. I love that about you. I think that’s the cutest and funniest thing ever. I’m a dork too. There’s nothing wrong with that. And you do have friends. You have us. You have me. You might not be the most sociable person I know. That’s true. But that’s fine. I like that you’re not the loud type anyway. And it’s cool that you live with Talia and Jamal. I’d even go so far as to say that I like it, because otherwise… I wouldn’t have met you, you know what I’m saying ? 

You stared at him and nodded. 

Don’t let her get into your head, he continued. You’re absolutely amazing. There isn’t a thing I would change about you. Meeting you is the greatest thing that’s happened to me in the past year. You’re a ray of sunshine. Every time you walk in the studio, you make everyone’s day better, just by being you. You make those silly jokes, you put up with us and, most importantly, you get us. You’re not one of those groupies who think of us as stereotypes. Especially me. You’re so genuine, it’s refreshing. So don’t let anyone change that. You are exceptional. You are brave, strong, and beautiful, inside and out. 

You couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever told you. Sure, you’d received compliments before, but never to this extent. Hell, none of the people you had dated had never made such a declaration. You could tell by the look on his face that he meant every word he had just said. 

I’m scared to lose my friends, you finally said in an emotional voice. Especially you. 

You’re not losing anyone, Y/N. Especially me, he chuckled as he brushed your face with his hand. Don’t you worry about that. You’re pretty much stuck with me. 

You giggled softly before curling on the car seat and watching him for the rest of the drive. You felt comforted, grounded by his presence. It was a good thing, too, because you weren’t too sure how the conversation with Talia and Jamal would turn out.

[undead-supernova]

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

The Room Burned Down

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I'm curious to see what people think about me twisting around the perspective of who is actually relating more to the songs

plot: maybe going to award shows together isn't as fun as you think it's gonna be...so, baby, can we dance through an avalanche?...I'd hold you as the water rushes in...

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: public shaming, some fluff, a hint of spice, arguments, smoking, mentions of addiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of fatphobia

easter egg count: 29

wc: 5.8k

“Do I have to talk to the press?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your manager, Clara, said, typing away on her phone.

“They’re going to rake me across the coals.”

It had been nearly a month since your first date with him. Despite his hope that the noise would die down, it was only exasperated by the fact that you two hadn’t been seen out in public, sparking breakup rumors. But it was only that he had his promo and you had yours, traveling round and round with no time to rest. You even had outfit fittings for this very event that kept you in two different cities. It hadn’t put any strain on your relationship. If anything, it did the opposite. You lived your own lives, calling when possible. Texting nonstop once you caught a break at the same time. It was all so new for you. 

Clara looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her professional face on. “If they do, just smile and walk away. Thank them for their time. Just try to stay neutral like you always do. You’ll be perfect, I promise.”

            Knock.

You peered over at the wall, a smile forming on your lips.

You knew exactly who would pull that move.

Knock, knock, you sent back.

            Knock, knock, knock.

            Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Stop it, oh my god.”

A giggle left your lips. “Sorry.”

It was merely a coincidence that Corroded Coffin was getting ready for the American Music Awards on the same floor as you…directly next to you, that is. All by happenstance and absolutely nothing else. There was no coordination whatsoever and if anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d deny it. 

But here you were, causing mischief within the first hour of being situated. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Eddie yet, rushed off before Corroded Coffin even showed up. It was whiplash, Clara already spouting off the plans for the night. The time you’d get into the car. When you’d get out. The red carpet. Reminding you how to pose, how to smile. All the while, people floated around you with makeup brushes and endless cups of coffee. Hushed whispers and sighs.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

When you didn’t respond, you watched your door open in the reflection with Eddie stepping in, dodging the assistants and the assistant’s assistant running around. You smiled as you took in his appearance. Loose t-shirt and sweatpants, all cozy and soft. Hair damp, bangs pulled back. You noticed he’d been sat down for makeup, only one of his eyelids dusted in navy eye shadow. 

God, you’d missed him.

“What’re you doing in here?” you asked, nearly jumping up to give him the biggest kiss he’d ever received. But when your knees jerked, Clara placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you down. The pout on your lips wouldn’t even sway her.

“You didn’t answer my knock,” Eddie said, trying to sound innocent, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

You giggled, but Clara only sighed, shaking her head as she fought a smile. “I can’t believe you both. Like toddlers, I swear.” She turned to Eddie. “Get out of here. We leave in two hours, and I know that hair takes at least one. Don’t make me call Paige.”

Eddie sent you a wink from the shadowed eye. “See you later, babe.”

You chuckled. “Bye, Eddie.”

Today was big for the two of you. Big big. You were sitting at a reserved table with Corroded Coffin. Just you, Eddie, Grant, Gareth, Jeff, and Ronnie. All together. In public. On TV. 

Your boyfriend would be with you unlike the last few wanting nothing to do with the exposure, usually hiding across the room. But Eddie insisted, only wanting to be near you all night. There for you, rooting for you as you were there for him, rooting for him. Getting to spend time with his close friends and his girlfriend.

Everything was starting to fall into place. The noise was becoming more bearable the more they stayed out of earshot. The world was unable to penetrate the magnificent walls you’d built around your hearts. And if you could just get through tonight without a fuck up or a bout of controversy, everything would be okay.

When you emerged from your hotel room, nearly ten minutes late, you found Eddie waiting for you, dark eyes widened as he looked over your outfit. You were in a Sixties Go-go dancer fantasy with a sparkly pink romper, the straps wrapped around your neck. Tall block-heeled boots reaching your knees. A thick pink boa to drape over your elbows. Dripping in jewels. 

An absolute daydream.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around, the boa floating to the floor. You took in his scent, that beautiful mixture of nicotine and bergamot from whatever cologne he’d started wearing lately. His breath was fresh against your neck, your ear, your jaw. His warmth bleeding through his double-breasted navy suit, textured from the polyester and cherry blossom pattern. 

When a nearly silent gasp left your lips, Eddie wasted no time with hiding himself with his hair and nipping at your neck. Your grasp on his shoulders tightened as his fingers dug into your sides. Feeling his tongue lightly flick over the mark made you feel, well, insane. Had it really been an entire month without his breath? Had you really spent an entire mouth with his voice over the phone, guiding you through your orgasms as you whined and begged for him? Had you really gone this long without him?

Despite wanting to pull him back into the room and rip off his ridiculously expensive clothes, you grabbed your boa and his hand before jogging towards the elevator.

Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie were already down at the car, probably drinking complimentary champagne and getting ready to sit in the audience for four hours, waiting for their names to be called. You couldn’t blame them. It did get rather boring after a while of the cameras and commercial breaks and announcers and performances. You’d almost been asked to perform, but before you could say yes, they asked Olivia to do it instead. It wasn’t something you minded, but there was a little part of you had felt sad at the loss.

But you were here to have fun, not worrying about who was who or what people had to say about you. Just have fun with the people who knew what real fun was. Be able to survive the night. 

Survive. Endure. Have fun.

As you made your way through to the lobby, hand in hand, you glanced over at Eddie again. You couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, always seeming to take your breath away. It was an accurate cliché, but one that couldn’t fully encompass how you felt. Hell, the English language wasn’t even enough.

“You’re a vision in navy,” you complimented, taking him in once again.

“Apparently, it’s a deep Prussian,” he corrected before rolling his eyes.

“Oh, my bad,” you replied sarcastically. 

“Hey!”

Paige was storming towards you, scowling. 

When you looked at Eddie, he just smiled at her and waved. “Paige, how lovely to see you tonight.”

But Paige merely groaned. “Get your asses to the car.”

“Look how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie—”

“Cut it, Romeo,” Paige interrupted, shoving you through the door and into the limo with the rest of the band. Everyone cheered, handing you both champagne before clinking your glasses together.

You couldn’t help but look over at Eddie, his grin just as wide as yours.

I’m so in love with you, you thought, so close to letting it fall out. I’m so, so in love with you.

“Come on,” Paige shouted, making you flinch as you watched her signal to the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As soon as you were let out of the car, Clara led you away from the group, ushering you towards the photo ops and interviews. Men behind cameras called your name, begged for your attention. This was still something you found strange, like being held in a cage. You were to be spectated, gawked at by the public as nothing more than a show. A source of entertainment that extended far beyond your comprehension.

But Clara had trained you for this since the first time you ever stepped out on one of these carpets. You knew how to give them what they wanted. So, you put your hand on your hip. Pivoted every few seconds for different angles. Let the light hit your highlighter at just the right moment. A smirk. A laugh. Shiny smile. Shiny eyes.

It killed you the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name being called from behind you, harmonious with the sound of the rest of their names being shouted out. The photographers were going nuts as they found their way onto the carpet. You wanted to look back at him, wanted to admire how he shone. 

Because he did. He always did.

Eddie Munson knew how to shine without even breathing. Without talking. Without smiling. He could part a crowd like it was nothing, could bring everyone to their knees if he merely snapped his fingers. It was undeniable.

Everyone wanted him.

And, dangerously, he was all yours.

“You’ve been busy!”

You chuckled, trying to keep your eyes from flickering over at the camera being shoved in your face. This was the first interview of the night, the first of five. Five. It was something you’d agreed to months ago, but you didn’t realize just how taxing it would feel until the blonde woman in front of you stuck her microphone up to your lips.

“Oh, yeah!” you responded. “With writing the new album and thinking about the next tour and stuff, I’ve just been running around and trying to keep everything in check. Plus, Acacia My Dear means so much to me, I don’t want another album to overshadow that hard work.”

“And I’m sure you get a lot of support from your new boyfriend, Eddie Munson.”

You’d anticipated the mention, mulled it over and let yourself spiral late at night. But nothing prepared you for your dry mouth, for the lump in your throat as you began to scramble for an answer.

“Well, I’ve been really focused on my music,” you responded.

But she wasn’t letting up. “Will there be any songs about him on the new album?”

“I think art is always up for interpretation.” You smiled bigger despite your frustration, looking over her shoulder and pretending to notice someone. “I have to go, thank you.”

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

            “Have you collaborated with your boyfriend on anything?”

            “I really like to write by myself. The songwriting and the music are so important to me. Obviously, it’s important to the people who are so talented in different ways. I’m just grateful that people seem to care about it as much as I do.”

            “You and Eddie are so different. How does that translate at shows like this?”

            “I think everyone is here because they’re successful and talented at what they do. I can only hope that I measure up tonight.”

            “Do you think Corroded Coffin has a chance tonight?”

            “Everyone here is so talented. I hope that everyone gets a chance to shine as much as they do. I know that winning isn’t everything, but I hope I have a good shot.”

            “Is your new album influenced by Eddie’s sound at all?”

            “I’m talented and successful because of the sound I’ve cultivated and what I do. I think that I will continue to evolve as an artist and as a songwriter and, for me, I believe that I have been doing just that.” 

Four more interviews and each one talked about Eddie and not your music. Not your success. You hissed to your publicist that no one was allowed to even mutter Eddie’s name in an interview again and she furiously nodded and apologized. Clara nearly told you to cool it, but you stormed off into the venue. You didn’t want to hear from her. You’d done your fucking job.

When you spotted Eddie inside talking to Grant, you immediately found yourself in his arms. Away from the cameras. Away from the vultures. 

“Eddie.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing your back. 

“I think I’m gonna cry,” you gasped, anxiety flooding your system. Your hands were shaking, mind frenzied by the noise and the people and the fucking embarrassment.

“No, hey. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, but Eddie kept his hands on your waistline. Kept you close.

“They just kept bringing you up. I tried to steer it all away back to my music, but they just kept going.”

“Hey, they asked me that shit, too.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that my relationship is private, but I’m proud of all your hard work right now. ‘Cause I am.”

Immediately, you felt like a shitty girlfriend. “I should’ve said that. I’m sor—"

“Look at me, baby,” he interrupted, searching your eyes. “Tell me your favorite Beatles song right now. Hm?”

Searching your mind, you were caught on the only lyrics that came to mind.

            “Life is very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

“‘We Can Work It Out’.”

“And we can,” he replied with a small smile, tapping your chin. You nodded. “Let’s just go sit down with everyone and try to bring the energy back, alright? I’m right here with you, baby. Always.”

But there were other lyrics to that song, ones that echoed even louder.

            “Try to see it my way

            Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong

            While you see it your way

            There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.”

Everything was turned around, the smiles and the laughter returning you to your senses. Corroded Coffin won the only award they were up for tonight. Naturally. After that, Jeff had pulled out a hidden deck of cards. You, him, Eddie, and Gareth were in a mean game of Go Fish, giggling your way through Gareth trying to cheat.

You were hardly listening when someone said your name onstage. Looking up from your cards, you heard the tail end of it. 

“…is about to switch genres, sitting over there with her new boyfriend.” The crowd around you laughed. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You saw Eddie’s hand in your peripheral vision, saw the middle finger starting to lift, and pushed his hand down. No need to make a scene.

“Quick, Eddie. Don’t get too close!”

Without hesitation, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, and Ronnie all stood up and flipped him off. Ronnie even pointed hers directly at the camera filming your reaction.

The audience gasped while other celebs at tables cheered them on.

What the fuck was happening?

Eddie glanced at you before getting up and stepping onto his chair. Slowly, he raised his middle finger.

The crowds roared, the presenter starting to look embarrassed as the whole room turned into chaos. Dozens of pictures captured their defiance, their retaliation.

And you?

Well, you sat there with a neutral expression, already trained in the art of disguising your emotions. Your lips didn’t hold a smile or a frown, something set in the middle. You controlled your eyes to stay in position, refusing to widen or fall half-lidded. Refusing to look up at your boyfriend.

But inside, you were something else entirely.

Full of rage at the jokes, full of fear at the way Eddie’s whole band went to bat for you. Furious at yourself for being unable to find the will to stand up with them. Terrified at what the world was about to say about it. Humiliated that they felt the need to pull a stunt to a stupid joke you’d heard a million times.

“Woah, woah, guys! Calm down!” the presenter said with a shaky laugh. He was clearly not anticipating what was happening. “It’s all jokes, promise. All jokes. Nice organization, though, truly. Anyways, moving on to the next category. Here presenting the award—”

As everyone sat back down, Jeff and Gareth went back to their game like it was nothing. 

You turned to your boyfriend. “Eddie—”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours. “I can’t just let them do that. People have to know that it’s not okay.”

“Eddie, they’re gonna talk about us,” you said, noticing your southern accent bleeding through. Fuck. “Y’all can’t just do that. Think of tomorrow, think of—”

“And the nominees are for Best Pop Album are…”

You had to look away, remember where you were. Because that was your name they were saying up there, yourface they were zoning in on. 

And it was you that everyone was looking at as you were declared the winner.

You began standing, Eddie helping to pull out your chair. Turning to him, you thought about kissing him, thought about hugging him. Thought about giving him any sliver of physical affection while the world was watching. 

His hand reached out for yours, but you gave him a small smile before dipping your head and walking toward that stage. Alone. Without anyone by your side to help you up the steps. The applause was nearly deafening, the support seemingly louder than before. 

But you had to focus, clearing your throat as you took the shiny award, resembling a shard of glass ready to pierce your skin at a moment’s notice. You reminded yourself of where you were, what you were doing. What you had to do. Face the world yet again. 

Leaning into the microphone, you began.

“I’d really like to thank my record label for giving me the opportunity to explore new sounds and trusting me with the writing and producing process. Acacia My Dear is obviously a play on the Beatles song and I was so inspired to create an album centered around a fictional version of myself that I created. To tell that story was so euphoric and beautiful.” A few cheers sounded. “My art is what keeps me going and I’ll never stop loving it. Never. Um,” you stumbled, looking back out at the crowd before back at your award. 

There were words on your togue.

I’d like to thank Eddie for being so supportive these last five months. 

But you only shook your head. 

“So, yeah, this is for the fans and the many, many young queer women out there who want to make music. Y’all—” you paused, careful to switch your accent back. “You all can do it and you can be successful.” You lifted the award high into the air. “If I can, you can, too. Thank you.”

You’d made it to the vacant bathroom, made it to the sink in time to feel yourself start to lose it. 

This wasn’t the time to lose it.

You couldn’t.

But you were.

Being an outcast in high school was something you had in common with Eddie. While your circumstances differed and you didn’t know much about his past, you knew that you were both given the same nickname. Freak. You weren’t too sure exactly how you were supposed to be much of a freak, but you’d been labeled as such since grade school. It was always something new, from your interests to your appearance to whatever you said or did in class. The punchline to bets made by boys in the name of sheer boredom.

But girls and boys are both cruel. And whoever said boys shouldn’t hit girls never went to your schools. You were pushed into walls. Punched. Called names. Cyberbullied once emailing became a thing. Humiliated on social media once that came around. You were ugly, fat. Freak. A wannabe musician who had no talent. Freak. A loner who sat by herself and wrote during recess because nobody liked you enough to let you to play with them. Freak. Booed when you sang at your talent shows, left uninvited to sleepovers and birthday parties.

Freak.

The only thing you held sacred was your music that you recorded on GarageBand and uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud, back when all of that was way more popular. It gained traction somehow, your song “High Walls” getting thousands upon thousands of views and praise. A record label saw the spike and took a chance on you, thinking you were talented enough at eighteen to make it big.

And you did. 

But you still had nightmares about those days. Spent time in therapy talking about how ridiculous you felt that you were still haunted by teenage girls and boys, all surrounding you with hollering laughter and pointed fingers. How you still heard their words echo in your mind whenever you looked online and saw the vile things being said about you. Still felt the sting of salt in your wounds whenever friends you’d made would stab you in the back.

The sound of heels brought you back to your reality, brought you back to the faint hum of the performance on the other side of the theater. For a moment, you thought that maybe Ronnie or Clara decided to see if you were okay. 

But you were disappointed to find some actress you forgot the name of. You recognized her face and nothing more. Her dark hair curled down to her shoulders, showered in golden eyeshadow and body glitter. She recognized you immediately, eyebrows shooting up at the mere sight of you.  

But she kept moving to the other side, holding her words back. You knew they were coming, anticipated them as she got settled. Her lips wrapped around a vape, her back and one red pump pressed against the wall. 

Crossing her arms, she began her prodding. “Some show, huh?”

You only shrugged.

“Want a hit?”

You looked at her, seeing that the offer was coming from a place of understanding rather than passing judgment or niceties. Because her mouth was scrunched up to the side, like she felt bad for you. Like she was genuinely just trying to figure out how to help.

And though you never really smoked cigarettes all that often, you took it from her and pulled a long drag. Well, maybe too long. The rush of nicotine hit you hard, dizzying before you felt the release. Like you were flying, like you were escaping from whatever hell you were being trapped in. And it was fleeting, the moment ending as soon as the cloud of smoke left your lips.

You handed it back to her. “Thanks,” you said with a breathy laugh. The familiar taste of MAC lipstick lingered on your tongue. 

“Yeah, no problem.”

Thinking the interaction was over with, you went back to looking at yourself. Your mind was close to clearing, was so close to being brought back from the brink of madness. If you could just get through the night without another hiccup or mistake, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe if you stayed perfectly calm—  

“Eddie Munson, huh?”

You refrained from letting out a scoff, your impulse control not strong enough to keep you from throwing up your hand before it slapped against the counter.

“Yeah. Eddie Munson.”

She noticed your irritation but didn’t get upset. She only watched you, tilting her head as she took another drag.

“What’s he like?”

The question rang in your head, echoing around you like there were a million voices asking at once. Because he was the one that everyone wanted, the one everyone gravitated towards. He was yours but he was also everyone else’s. Even if you could separate the two, could extract him from their narratives and stories, they would still be there. All rallied behind him like an army following blindly in his honor. 

But it wasn’t like they would do the same for you, was it? No, you were an outsider to the genre, to the subculture that he was in. You were just some popstar who didn’t get it, didn’t get him. Chasing a momentary high like that drag you took. Here one second, gone the next. Lulling him into the haze before fading into the gray. And you realized that even if you were given the chance to be with him forever, a chance that now seemed extremely slim, you would never truly be the sole person who got to keep him. 

Loving him forever comes with a cost. 

Looking back at your reflection, you sighed.

“A dream.”

Before you gave her any time to respond, you left.

Your ride back to the hotel was quiet, Eddie’s breathing becoming ragged with every red light they endured. He was worrying you, not even looking you in the eye when you got back to your seat. For the rest of the night. When you got a car together. When you stepped into the lobby. The elevator.

But then Eddie was taking off his blazer, trudging down the hallway, the boom of his combat boots bouncing off the walls.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to keep up.

“You barely even touched me the whole night.”

“Y’all stood up and made a scene!”

“Because he was being a goddamn prick.”

“I know, but that’s why you just don’t give them a reaction! It just causes more attention and then people think you do it because you want attention and then it just gets spun into something it’s not because people love drama—"

“No,” Eddie said harshly, turning around to face you. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the fucking internet. I wanted to congratulate you on your win and yet you just walked away. It hurt.”

“What you guys did hurt me. It was unprofessional.”

Eddie stopped then, pausing to really look at you for what felt like the first time since the band stood up. 

But he had no time to respond.

“Hey, what the fuck are you yelling at him for?!” Ronnie shouted down the hall, her boots just as loud as his.

She really did look a lot like Eddie, with the same curly hair and hardened stare. The same protective nature, the same wild heart. But her eyes were void of any compassion, any sympathy. She was fucking pissed, and it was only directed at you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did y’all ever think about how I’d feel about it? It was tough enough to publicly sit—”

“I’m so sorry that sitting at a table with your boyfriend and his friends is such a chore for you.”

Behind her, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff approached, their laughter cut short at the intensity of her words. Eyes trained on the scene in front of them. All three men silent, all three men watching the showdown that you didn’t ask to be a part of.

“Ronnie,” Eddie said. It sounded more like a warning, but she was still looking at you, still ready to pounce.

And so, she did.

“You’re a coward,” Ronnie seethed. “You’re lucky to have someone like him and I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined. This is real life, sweetie. I know you sit there in your fantasy world with your sugarcoated lyrics and your fake smile. Too afraid to let anyone know how you really feel. Too afraid to hold your boyfriend’s fucking hand. A goody two-shoes who does nothing but cry about how unfair her life is even though you have everything you could ever need.

“You think you’re risking everything for him? For us? No. You’re not risking a goddamn thing if you just sit there and take it. Avoid it. Act like it’s not happening. We stood up for you because we fucking care about Eddie and Eddie cares about you. We didn’t have to do that. We could’ve just let him make fun of you for three more hours and let you get humiliated. But we did that, and I don’t care if you didn’t like it. You needed help. And you’re an idiot for acting like this has anything to do with professionalism. 

“You’re nothing but a coward. I can only hope you’ll change your fucking attitude for Eddie’s sake. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, you need to leave him and us the hell alone. Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

You tried not to cry in front of her, tried not to give in to bending and breaking of your soul. Her speech was loud, deafening, ringing in your ears like waves crashing into each other. Instead of replying, you turned and ran into your hotel room and slammed the door behind you. Sobs escaped your lips as you did everything you could to take all that shit off. Threw the boa on the floor. Threw your shoes at the headboard. Let your jewelry land wherever the fuck it wanted. 

But your romper was harder, sticking to your skin with the sweat and nerves and— 

The door opened, Eddie rushing into the room like it was burning down. And in some ways, it really felt like it. The heat and the sweat and the nerves and the way Ronnie shot those flaming arrows, the way it set your brain afire. The way it was starting to spread.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry about Ronnie. She gets really protective of me; it’s been a thing since we were kids—"

“Maybe this is too much,” you interrupted, “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone less messy. Less cowardly.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we break up?”

“I just,” you started, watching his eyes start to widen. “I don’t know. I feel like your whole life is being thrown into chaos because of me and I don’t want you having to change your whole life or fuckin’ feel the need to defend me on national television. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Grant and Gareth and Jeff and Ronnie.”

“Baby, I want you, okay? I’m willing to push through the bullshit if it means that I’ll get to fucking see you at the end of the day or week or even month. You’ve changed my life.”

You shook your head. He was lying, he had to be. Or he was living in delusion, riding on that fucking fairytale that Ronnie claimed you’d created. That wasn’t his reality, wasn’t yours.

“You just don’t understand, Eddie!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “I know this is hard on you. I know. But you’re not the only one hurting, okay? I don’t like this any more than you do, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re acting like I don’t get it. People call me a man whore or a player or whatever. And even though I recovered, people still think I’m a fucking cokehead. That shit is brutal. I’m not this crazy person who does what all the bands did in the Sixties or Seventies. Hell, even the Eighties and Nineties.”

Your eyebrows pulled in tight at his admittance. 

“It sickens me,” he continued, his stare intensifying. “I’m just a loser who got lucky and got out of a shitty small town.” He gestured away from himself. “I’m still that loser. That freak. And I was never given a chance by girls after we blew up—hell, most guys laughed at me. I had to just figure this out for myself, and I,” he gestured back to himself, “have chosen to remove myself from it. Remove myself from that picture they’ve painted for me. And then I found someone who fucking understands.”

As you listened, Eddie’s hand came back down, brushing against yours before weaving your fingers together.

“Someone who sees the world like I do and chooses me despite it being so…so loud. And you have spent your life thinking you have to do this alone. I get it. So did I. But one thing I’ve learned that you haven’t is that you don’t have to do this alone. We got you. I got you.”

“This is going to look so bad for you,” you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t care.”

Your head shook for you, rapidly denying his words. 

“And the rest of the band.”

His fingers met the back of your head, trying to soothe you as he rubbed circles into the muscles.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes searched his as you tried to make sense of it all, make sense of the fact that he was still here. He hadn’t left. He’s saying things that no one, no one, had said to you before and meant so fervently. 

“And me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

He paused for a split second, long enough for you to catch it before he finally looked away, tucking his lip into his mouth.

His forehead bumped against yours, taking a deep breath. You did the same, breathing him in as you tried to find the will to stay.

To fight.

To keep whatever the hell it was that you had.

“Baby, I want to be with you.” His eyes shot back up to yours, tears collecting in his eyes.

“And I want our privacy. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But I still want to go outside and be as normal as we can. I wanna go get dinner and coffee and do whatever the fuck we want. I want to post a picture of you and dedicate my songs to you and be open and whatever the fuck else I want.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I know you do, baby. That’s why I want you to understand me. I want the same things you do, and I want us to figure out a solution together. I know we can do it. I just know. So don’t…don’t go.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob as you tried to make sense of it all. How he could still be here, fighting for you to keep going. 

“Eddie…”

His hands clutched onto yours as he sniffled. You felt his tears landing on your skin.

“Stay.”

This was messy. You were messy. A big, huge, ginormous mess that was getting in the way of everyone else’s happiness. Being everyone else’s disappointment. It was only a matter of time before you fucked up and ruined this. Ruined him.

But he’s still there, asking you not to leave.

“Is it really that simple?” you asked.

“Look at me.” 

And you did, watching his tears cascade down his cheeks. Watching as his face grew desperate, watching as his lip quivered.

“Please, don’t go. Stay.”

[ovobawrites]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽: 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓈𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓍 ♡ 𝐹𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈

disclaimer: this has already been posted on ao3 and quotev, i'm just reposting this beach episode special as a promo for the fic. after this is all my previous author notes.

this is a fem!reader and also a half chinese!reader insert.

previous ♡ next

The rest of the dinner had consisted of the group finding more and more extreme ways to remove Lilia's 'dessert' off of their plates. Malleus and Silver, experts at this craft, had simply casted spells under the table to remove spoonfuls of the 'cake' every so often while Lilia's eyes were elsewhere. Ortho helped Idia by blasting the 'food' with micro beams of technomatic energy to give off the illusion of Idia slowly eating it. Trey simply casted his unique magic and enjoyed the dessert wholeheartedly, nevermind the fact that it tasted distinctly like candied violets and not like a red velvet cake. 

You absentmindedly spinned the dainty silver spoon in your hand as you debated the merits of merely excusing yourself from dinner with 'monthly problems' as the root cause. On one hand, there'd be no need to eat the most poisonous creation you'd ever seen. On the other, having a bunch of awkward eye contact and boys trying to 'help' with offerings of chocolate and the like was not on your agenda for this vacation. You continued to spin your cutlery as you watched Trey take pity on Riddle and Cater enough to help them out, just as Jamil finished faking his test for poison and proclaimed the dessert contained a certain food dye additive that Kalim was totally allergic too. And in fealty to his master, Jamil too would not partake in the cake. 

Vil and Rook already had the excuse of watching their figures to avoid partaking in dessert, an excuse that Lilia took at face value, promising to use less oil to reduce trans fat next time he makes a cake. The question, of course, was how much oil was Lilia putting in his cakes before? From a glance at Silver's face, way too much. It does explain the yellow liquid with suspended droplets of red that flowed out of the moist yet dry mass in front of you. 

Leona had already conked out, declaring that he only eats meat and will never partake in a food that contains 'herbivore products' whatever that meant. Ruggie, meanwhile, was eating the food with gusto, gladly eating Leona's portion as well. You could guess why, starvation had a knack for making one distinctly more appreciative of food. Even if Lilia's cooking was barely edible, Ruggie would still eat and enjoy it. Tragic, was it not?

Floyd and Jade had started moving their food to Azul's plate, letting the oblivious housewarden magic away their food as well as his own. From the frustrated look on Azul's face, you could guess he hadn't figured out the ruse to the game just yet.

Lilia flourished in all of you 'enjoying' his food, flushed with pride as he described the painstaking process of making the cake. "At first," he said, "I added two drops of the food colouring. But then, I realised, it was never gonna be a 'red velvet cake' without more red! So I dumped the whole bottle in." Lilia puffed his chest out, awaiting praise for correcting this foolhardy decision.

"T-that's lovely." Silver said weakly in reply. "I'm glad you corrected your mistake early on."

"And Trey didn't say a word, that sly devil." Lilia continued, wagging his finger teasingly at his cooking partner. "You were waiting for me to learn it myself, were you not?"

Trey nodded with a smile and a twitching eye. "Yep, I figured you'd realise it eventually."

Lilia guffawed at that. "I'm glad you have such respect for your elders, boy, but next time you should keep in mind that my memory is not as pristine as your own."

Lilia really needs to stop saying such mysterious things. Even if Fae age slower than humans, shouldn't he act more his 'mental age' than his physical one? Though... with his cooking I'd gladly accept dementia as its excuse. 

You sighed quietly, as you decided to take the path of least resistance. You used your food to push the pile of ashes around your plate, giving an illusion of eating it. It seemed less like you weren't eating the food at all, merely picking at it slowly due to a lack of appetite. It really was too bad that Lilia wasn't a better cook. 

Soon enough, the conversation petered out and you stood to dump the 'rest of' your dessert in the food waste bin. Lilia never noticed, not with his distraction and the purposeful silence of your movements. As you went to wash your dishes in the sink, more and more of the boys filed in, all having made deals or negotiations for one to do their dishes for the night.

The suds and the hot water that ran over your skin was familiar as you quickly cleaned up, casting a quick spell under your breath to dry off the dishes and put them away. As you turned around, you smiled at Ruggie and Jamil, the two of them rapidly scrubbing through the plates at a practiced pace. Not too slow to be noticed, but slow enough to get away with just a few moments to themselves. But your attention was taken away by the dark sky, signaling it was about time for you to take some time to yourself. You wanted the opportunity to check up and fix up your wards, with Idia's presence, they were likely weakened a little. 

It was a habit by this point, constantly keeping an eye or two on the wards around your room. The incident was ingrained in your head, to the point where even a day where you didn't check up on them caused this debilitating feeling of fear. Another intruder in your room was something you hoped to never happen again. 

(You were resigned, of course, to the truth of the matter. That it would continue to happen for as long as you were alive. This bloodline that you were born into came cursed with the constant threat of assassins, or worse. For all you could act trusting of your friends, you were never sure when, exactly, they'd come to sell you out. You just hoped it wasn't soon. Hoped to be able to enjoy this illusion of camaraderie for a little while longer.)

You quietly walked up the steps to your room, the group already dispersing amongst themselves into groups of each dorm. A distinct feeling of loneliness overcame you as you watched them separate, yet were never alone. What you would give to have that easy friendship.

There was a knock on your door at 9 o'clock in the evening, just as you were finishing up with warding your room once more. 

"Who is it?" You called out, a pleasant lilt to your voice as you awaited an answer from behind the door. A quick brushstroke to finish off the character for 'warning' and you should be done for the day. 

"it's Trey." A familiar voice replied.

"And Cater!" Another chimed in. "We were wondering if you wanted to play a board game with the rest of us? Apparently Jade brought monopoly with him."

"Oh, sure, I'd love to play." You stood up from your desk and made way to the door, snagging your magic pen as you opened it up. "Shall we go downstairs, then?"

"Of course!" Cater perked up and dashed down immediately.

Trey smiled softly at you and offered an arm. "My lady." He said with a chuckle and a teasing look in his eye.

You giggled in reply. "How chivalrous." You took the proffered arm and walked downstairs with him at a more sedentary pace. 

"We don't have enough pieces for all of us." Jade sighed with a faked look of regret on his face, before his ever-present smile snapped back on. "It seems like we'll have to be in teams, perhaps teams of four?"

"There's eighteen of us," Riddle noted, "so teams of three would be the perfect number."

The smile on Jade's face froze over, though he continued his pleasant countenance. "Of course. I guess the dorms will be splitting up then."

"I think the dorms with three members already work out." Jamil spoke up, "So some of the groups of two will be splitting up instead."

"Rook and I claim (Y/N)." Vil said from his seat on the sofa. "Any objections?"

The glares he got from Leona and Jade were harsh enough to kill, yet they said no word in reply. Always happy to hang out with the pomefiore students, you sat sandwiched between Vil and Rook when the two shifted to make room.

"I can team up with Ruggie and Leona!" Kalim exclaimed from where he was seated, ecstatic grin on his face. "This is gonna be super fun!"

"It'd be even better with a feast..." Ruggie sighed to himself, a glint of sardonic humour in his eye.

Kalim perked up even more. "That's a great idea. Next time we have a board game night, we should make it a feast!"

Jamil sighed. "There's no way I'm making that much food for that many people in such short time Kalim."

"Great! Then I can help out!" He beamed.

"And I could as well." Lilia chimed in with a smile.

A shudder ran through the group.

"Ah... sorry Lilia..." Kalim started, "but you don't know any dishes from Scalding Sands... so..."

"I prefer to cook alone." Jamil interjected. 

Lilia drooped down with a frown. "That's too bad, then."

A clap of his hands brought all eyes to Jade. "Now that the teams are sorted, shall we start choosing our pieces?"

"Oh-oh, dibs on the money bag!" Kalim moved to grab the metal piece when Ruggie revealed it in his hand with a familiar laugh. "Good job, Ruggie!" He patted the hyena beastman on the head before moving to sit back down on the floor at the feet of his team.

"Can we have the dog?" You asked politely from your place on the sofa. Jade wordlessly passed it to you, gaining a grateful smile. You turned to your teammates, wondering quietly: "Are there any strategies for monopoly?"

"Buy everything you land on and get good roles." Vil intoned. "So we should have Rook roll, since he has the best luck of all of us."

"Ah, you flatter me dear Roi du Poison." Rook said with a hand to his chest. "I'd be glad to handle the heavy work for our team. I wouldn't want to see any calluses on either of your soft hands."

Bit weird to say but I appreciate the sentiment.

"And you will handle the money." Vil looked at you. "I'll handle the talking and negotiating. If any auctions come up, I'll bet too. Got it?"

"Roger that!"

"Of course, beautiful Vil."

"Good." He leaned forwards, a competitive gleam to his eyes, "Then shall we win this game?"

"Wait- how does one even play monopoly?" Malleus wondered from his place on the couch.

Trey sighed. "This is gonna be a long night."

"A one." Lilia sighed as he moved the top hat onto another owned property. "How much do we owe you, Azul?"

Azul cackled. "Why, not too much, only 500 dollars!"

Malleus begrudgingly handed over the note to Floyd as the Octavinelle students laughed at their growing pile of money.

"This is unfair." Riddle spoke up from where his team had been sent to the floor, where 'the bankrupt should sit, so we know they're out of the game'. "Of course the board game club members will be the winning teams. We should play a better game."

"Aww, is goldfishie upset about losing so quickly?" Floyd teased with a shark-like grin. "That's too bad... maybe if you had longer arms you'd be able to make better rolls!"

Riddle slowly went red. "Is that. Another. Short joke, Floyd?" He gritted out as Trey and Cater started to coach him into calming down. Riddle only got a laugh in reply, further fanning the flames of his anger.

"We got a two and a one." Ruggie spoke up from the 'Jail' sofa. "Guess we're stuck in here for another turn."

"Good job Ruggie." Leona grinned, "We're out of the madhouse for a little longer."

"Let me out!" Kalim wailed from besides them. "I swear I did nothing wrong! I'm innocent, I swear it!"

"Kalim, this is just a game. You're not actually in jail." Jamil spoke up from his couch, bored out of his mind when Idia and Ortho were doing all the work.

"We got a lucky three!" Rook spoke up from besides you. "We escape le Roi d'Effort's tyrannical reign once more, my dear Roi et Reine."

"Good job, Rook." Vil congratulated, "But we are not out of the woods just yet."

"We don't have enough funds to reliably survive another rent from Idia's group." You murmured worriedly to him as you handed the 'banker', Trey, enough money for another house to your pink set. 

"Trust me, dear, when have I ever lead this team astray?" Vil arched a perfect brow and stroked his hand through your hair in a comforting manner, smirk on his face.

"Uh oh, Azul, we got a five!" Floyd said worriedly as he looked between the board and the dice.

"I'm aware, Floyd." Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he calculated the prices. "Jade, how is our bank looking?"

"We still have plenty of funds, sir." He reported with a smile.

"You owe us 2000 dollars." Vil interrupted. "We just added a house there."

Jade paled. "The status is dire, Azul."

"Do we need to mortgage?"

"I'm afraid we will."

"Then do so."

A wide grin came to Idia's face as he looked over the board while the Octavinelle group struggled to pay yours. "We have this W in the bag, Ortho!" He paused for a moment, before a squeak. "And Jamil! We couldn't have done this without you!"

"I did nothing."

"Which is what we needed! If I was paired with Azul we would've lost by now... he's way too much of a control freak."

"I see." Jamil frowned in thought. "Thank you, then."

"...What was that Idia?" A threatening smile. "I hope you're prepared to face the consequences of what you've said..." 

"My team is plenty prepared to beat yours. We're not the ones on the verge of bankruptcy after all." Jamil grinned, always pleased to go against Azul.

"And now you've even turned Jamil against me! We just cannot let this stand, right Jade and Floyd?" Azul turned to the tweels for support as he faked heartbreak from Jamil's cruel words.

"Nah. I'm bored." Floyd said, examining his nails before deciding to go back to teasing Riddle until he exploded again.

"LOL even your team doesn't want to help you!" Idia laughed, manic grin on his face. "Ortho, roll a five for us if you'd please."

"...It's a seven."

"Goddamnit."

It's been three hours since the group started playing monopoly, with no end in sight to the horrors off the game. For all you tried to end it, only one other group has gone bankrupt since. 

"Finally, we're done for!" Ruggie sighed, relieved to be done with the game and to go to bed.

"Next time you should roll better." Leona glared. "We were this close to winning."

Ruggie looked at the other four groups still in the running and back to Leona, unimpressed. 

"I think we did super well anyways! We weren't the first group out and that's all that matters!" Kalim piped in, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Eh, whatever." Leona yawned before going up the steps to his bedroom. 

"Wh- Leona, aren't you gonna help clean our stuff up?" Ruggie yelled after him, and with the lack of reply, he groaned and went to pack the group's stuff up.

"I think I'll stay up." Kalim said to him. "I wanna see Jamil win!"

"Kalim... I doubt we're gonna be the winners at this rate." Jamil shook his head, the group funds of Ignihyde + Jamil and Octavinelle being significantly diminished since they declared war on each other.

"Shut up Jamil! We're gonna beat that stupid octopus into the ground, got it?!" Idia hissed, muttering calculations and win rates to Ortho as he surveryed the board with a manic look in his eyes.

Vil rolled his eyes. "This game will be way too long. Let's just-"

"NO FORFIETS ALLOWED!" Both Azul and Idia yelled at the same time, wanting to win 'fair and square', whatever that meant.

You tapped Vil on the shoulder and whispered a question to him. "Can I nap for a bit on your shoulder? I'm very much tired but... we can't exactly go to bed now." You shrugged with a weary smile.

"Whatever." He sighed in reply, and didn't say a word as you leant your head against his shoulder and with soft breaths as you drifted off to sleep.

You were still asleep when the game ended. Idia and Azul burnt each other out of the game, both throwing fits and arguing with each other as they went back to their rooms. Kalim, who had drifted off during the long game, was carried up to their shared room by Jamil with a groan off annoyance. Diasomnia somehow ended up winning despite the team only learning the rules a few hours ago.

Rook spoke up as Jade finished packing up the pieces. "Roi du Poison, I can always carry our dear Reine des Cygnes up the stairs if you'd rather go to sleep as soon as possible."

Vil shook his head. "It's fine, I can carry (Y/N) up myself." He merely glared at Rook when his vice housewarden gave a smug smile in reply. "Don't say a word."

"I won't!" He grinned.

"And don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

Vil didn't deign him with a reply and instead picked you up in a bridal carry to get to your room on the second floor. Worryingly, as he did so, you started to stir. His quiet and gentle movements didn't encourage you to go back to sleep, instead it merely woke you up as the two of you reached the top step.

You jolted in his arms. "I- Vil?!"

"What." He said flatly.

"Did you-" You spoke haltingly, tired and disoriented. "carry me up the stairs?"

Vil arched a brow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

You glanced away. "It's just that... you didn't have to go through the trouble, waking me up would suffice. I'm sorry for the bother."

"It was no bother at all." Vil's eyes pierced you as he continued to hold you up steadily. "If I wanted to wake you up, I would have done so. I don't mind doing this much for you." A rare smile graced his face as he looked upon you. "You are... precious to me, after all."

And with that, he set you down gently and walked down the stairs to his room, leaving you frozen in place. As you registered his words, a bright flush marked your cheeks. You hid your face behind your hands for a moment and sighed ever so quietly. Your heart thumped and a sea of butterflies flooded your stomach. 

You wondered what that feeling was as you tucked yourself into bed for the night.

Mini Theatre Jade, packing a monopoly board in his luggage: I can't wait to be on a team with my three favorite people! I'd love to play monopoly with (Y/N)! Vil and Riddle: Allow us to introduce ourselves. Leona: I WANTED TO TEAM WITH HER DAMMIT NOW I'M WITH KALIM. Jamil: ...Finally... freedom...

and here is the sixth part of the beach ep. if you'd like to read the rest of the fic, you can read it on ao3 here, and on quotev here.