#have you listened to hall of fame maybe

[imbzdrnst]

the way max verstappen is so skz songs coded im loosing my mind

[libraryofgage]

Librarian Steve :)

Was talking to a friend about people (specifically this one kid that gives such Dustin energy hfjdks) I meet at work (I'm a librarian) and that evolved into this plot bunny so:

Librarian Steve, rock star Eddie, and the 5 times Steve pretends he doesn't know who Eddie is while they flirt + 1 time Steve reveals he knew about Eddie's rock star status the whole time

There is also, definitely, at some point, going to be a second part where the kids keep just barely missing Eddie and refuse to believe Steve is actually dating anyone but especially not Eddie Munson of all people

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

One

Steve stares at the man on the other side of the circulation desk. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, a guitar pick necklace, clunky rings on each finger, and an expression that says he's bracing himself for something painful.

Here's the thing: Steve knows who Eddie Munson is. It's hard to listen to alternative rock or punk or any other genre like that and not know Eddie Munson. It's hard to be a librarian who works primarily with kids in middle school and high school, all going through that painful, angsty phase that they express through music, and not know Eddie Munson.

So, yeah, Steve takes one look at the admittedly (incredibly) attractive guy and immediately knows he's Eddie Munson. Like, of Corroded Coffin fame. Of Rock n Roll Hall of Fame fame. Of platinum-level album sales fame. Of--okay, his point has probably been made.

Anyway, yeah, Steve knows this is Eddie Munson, and while he'd love to say he's a fan and smile at Eddie and maybe ask for an autograph, Steve also grew up as a Small Town Rich Kid. So he knows that look on Eddie's face, the one that says he's bracing himself for someone to start fawning over him and potentially ask for uncomfortable favors or his number or any other request that's definitely crossing the line into invasive.

Steve easily makes the decision to pretend he doesn't recognize Eddie. So, he puts on his customer service smile and says, "Hello, how can I help you?"

The sheer relief in Eddie's eyes is more than enough to tell Steve he made the right choice. "Right, uh, this is my first time here," Eddie says, shifting slightly before placing his hands on the counter and drumming his fingers.

"Oh, congratulations," Steve says, his tone and smile becoming more genuine. "Did you come here to print something?"

Eddie shakes his head, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a library card. "My friend has, like, a...hold? Yeah, a hold on something and asked me to pick it up," he explains.

Steve nods once and takes the card when Eddie offers it. He scans it and watches the computer load for a few seconds before opening an account window for someone named Asher Katz. "Since you aren't the cardholder," Steve says, navigating to the "Additional Information" tab in the account, "I'll need you to tell me the four-digit pin or code word connected to the account."

He clearly wasn't expecting that requirement, and Eddie flounders for a moment. "Is that a requirement?" he asks.

With an apologetic smile, Steve nods. "Yeah," he says, stretching out the word as he tries to think. "Oh, you could also call him and have him tell me the pin. Then I could confirm that it's okay for you to check out materials on his behalf."

"This is a lot of hoops for a book," Eddie says, frowning slightly as he takes out his phone.

"We have to make sure people's materials are secure. Also, we have to keep track of what people check out for the library's stats report at the end of each quarter."

Eddie looks like he understands about half of that, and Steve once again flashes an apologetic smile. After a few taps on the screen, Eddie glances around the library, ensuring it's empty, before putting the phone on speaker. The moment it picks up, and before Asher can speak, Eddie says, "Hey, man, I'm at the library. Can you tell, uh--" Eddie looks up to check Steve's nametag "--Steve what your pin is so I can check that book out."

A few seconds pass before Steve hears a sigh on the other end of the phone. "1234," Asher says.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks.

Steve glances at the account page, confirms the pin, and nods. "Could you also provide me with your code word?"

"Password."

"Dude!" Eddie says, staring at the phone like he's once again being reminded that his friend is a dumbass.

Steve checks the account again and nods once more. "Great, thank you. Could you confirm that...," Steve trails off, looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks like he forgot Steve didn't know who he was and hesitates before clearing his throat and quietly saying, "Eddie."

"Thanks," Steve says, flashing another smile before looking at the phone and continuing, "Can you confirm that Eddie here is allowed to check out holds on your behalf?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine, man."

"Great, thank you," Steve says, checking the card number once more before heading to the hold shelf behind the desk. He crouches and starts scanning stickers on the spines for Asher's last name and the last four digits of his number. Behind him, he hears Eddie say goodbye, his voice sounding a little strained for reasons Steve can't really figure out at the moment.

He finds the right book after a few moments and pulls it off the shelf. "Here it is," he says, walking over to the desk and pulling up the check-out window on his computer. He scans the library card once more, carefully pulls the sticker off the spine, and scans the book.

"It's due in two weeks, but if your friend needs more time, he can just give the library a call," Steve explains, passing the book and card back to Eddie with a smile. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds, his cheeks looking a little pinker than before, and Steve wonders if the building's A/C somehow gave up on life. Again. But he can hear it running so that definitely isn't it. "Uh, nope, that's it," Eddie says, gripping the book tightly in his hands, his rings pressing into the cover. "Thanks, Steve, appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Have a good day," Steve says with a genuine smile and wave as Eddie heads toward the door.

With a slightly awkward wave back, Eddie walks out the door, glancing back over his shoulder once before the door completely shuts. Once the library is empty again, Steve hears the door to the backroom open, and Robin practically slides up to the counter, leaning onto it next to him.

"Was that?" she asks. Steve instantly translates the question in his head: Was that Eddie fucking Munson?

"Yep."

"And did you?"

And did you just pretend you didn't know him?

"Yep."

"Did he?"

Did he catch on?

"Nope."

"Do you think?"

Do you think he'll be back?

Steve shrugs, glancing over at her. "Don't know," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "He's hotter in person."

Robin barks out a laugh. "Maybe you'll actually get to flirt next time," she says, and Steve grins at her, kind of hoping she's right.

Two

Eddie returns exactly two weeks later, and Steve is lucky enough to once again be working a desk shift when he walks through the door. He's wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt this time, and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame his face. He goes up to the counter, focused on Steve and completely ignoring Robin sitting at another computer, and sets the book down. "I wanna return this. And get a library card for myself," he says.

Steve can't help a clearly amused smile as he takes the book and scans it in. "Do you have an ID with you?" he asks, sliding the book along the desk to rest next to Robin.

He ignores the glare she shoots at him before grabbing the book to place it on a reshelving cart for later.

"Yeah, do I need anything else?" Eddie asks.

As Steve shakes his head, he leans over to grab a library card application from a small organizer. He places it in front of Eddie and passes him a pen as well. "Just fill that out," he says, leaning forward on the counter as Eddie picks up the pen.

"So, uh, what can I do with a library card?" Eddie asks, glancing up at Steve briefly before focusing on carefully writing. His letters are blocky but awkward like he's consciously thinking about how he's writing each one.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk his writing being recognized, too? From what Steve remembers of the signatures he's seen, Eddie's handwriting is fairly distinctive.

"You can borrow up to 75 materials at one time, place items on hold, use the computers, and you get one dollar of printing credit that renews each day," Steve lists, tilting his head slightly as he watches Eddie write.

"That's it?"

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at Eddie when he looks up. "Oh, that's not enough for you?" he asks, unable to help a slight grin, "You can use it at any library within our system, too. So you'll still have options if you get banned from this one."

"Oh? And what would I be banned for?" Eddie asks, his writing pausing long enough to meet Steve's gaze once more and smirk at him.

"I wonder," Steve says, not missing the way Eddie's gaze drops to his lips for less than a second before moving back up.

Holy shit, he's flirting with Eddie Munson.

"I can also help you find books to read based on what you've liked previously," Steve adds, somewhat clumsily pulling back from the flirting. It's only Eddie's second time here, and he doesn't want to let himself get too caught up in...well, Eddie when there's no guarantee he'll be back.

Eddie hums softly as he looks back at the application. "Oh? What would you recommend for me?" he asks.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Hobbit."

"What did you like about it?"

"The adventure and the characters."

"Do you prefer fantasy? What about sci-fi?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

Steve hums softly, thinking as Eddie sets the pen down and slides the application to him. "Thanks. I also need to see your ID," Steve says, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a library card. He scans it, a new account window popping up and waiting to be filled out.

"What's the ID for?" Eddie asks.

"To confirm that you live in our service area," Steve explains, taking the ID when Eddie offers it. He glances at the photo briefly, confirming that it is, in fact, Eddie Munson, and then double-checks the address. It matches what Eddie wrote on the application, so he nods and slides the ID back to him.

"That's it?"

Steve nods, beginning to type Eddie's information into the account page. "Yeah, that's it," he says, glancing up and smiling at Eddie, "Anyway, I think you'll enjoy the Murderbot Diaries. It's about a cyborg that hacks its control module, thinks about maybe going on a killing spree, and then discovers TV instead. It then just goes on adventures through space while fighting, like, capitalism and corporations."

"Sounds pretty badass," Eddie says, leaning forward on the counter like he wants to get a peek at the computer. "How long is it?"

"It's mostly novellas, so they're quick reads."

"Got any copies here?"

Steve hums, entering the last of Eddie's information. "I can check," he says, "but first, I need a code word for your account. Like, if you forget your pin or have someone else come pick up a hold, this word will confirm it's you."

Eddie thinks for a few seconds, his gaze dropping to Steve's nametag once more. "Stevie," he says.

Steve's fingers falter, accidentally typing an incomprehensible key smash into the information field. He glances up at Eddie. "...as in Stevie Nix? Don't forget, this has to be something you'll remember," he says, raising an eyebrow.

With a playful grin and a wink, Eddie says, "Well, I think you're pretty unforgettable, Stevie."

A beat passes as Steve stares at Eddie, feeling a rush of heat to his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks back at the computer, hesitating for a second more before typing "Stevie" into the field and saving the account. When he's done, he slides the card to Eddie along with a Sharpie. "That's your card, please sign on the back."

He notices Eddie stiffen at the request, but Steve doesn't comment. As he instead searches the library's catalog, he tries to ignore the sheer panic coming from Eddie as he tries to figure out how to sign the card. Eventually, Eddie picks up the Sharpie and writes his name in the same awkward, blocky writing he used for the application.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention once more, "we don't have any copies of the first book here, but I can put it on hold for you. It should be here in around four days, and you'll get an email when it's available. Does that work?"

Eddie nods as he places the Sharpie down. "Sure, I'm happy to swing by and pick it up," he says, his tone and smile and the playful look in his eyes telling Steve there are more reasons than that for him to come by the library.

And as Steve places the book on hold for Eddie, he can't help a tiny, eager smile.

Three

The D8 sits innocently on the counter in front of Steve, marbled colors of blue and red with streaks of gold to complement the gold-painted numbers. Steve had immediately recognized it as Will's when he was cleaning the meeting room, and he knew the kid was probably losing his mind right now searching for it. He feels kind of bad knowing Will is going to lose all hope of finding it before his next visit to the library.

At the same time, though, he's looking forward to the expression of sheer joy on Will's face when he next comes in and Steve gives it back. Maybe it'll even score him a bonus point with Mike, and he'll be a little less of an asshole. Though, knowing Mike like he does, Steve is sure he'll just get jealous that Steve made Will smile like that instead of himself.

That kid is incredibly skilled at finding new grudges to hold.

"Whatcha got there, Stevie?"

Steve blinks, looking away from the D8 to find Eddie leaning on the counter, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. His hair is loose today, falling over his shoulders, and he's boldly wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, like he's confident that Steve won't recognize any of Corroded Coffin's merch.

Which, sure, Steve is great at pretending by now. Especially after he and Robin made a bet on whether Steve could keep the secret until Eddie asked him out. Steve has incredible faith in himself; Robin says he's too dumb and gay to last that long. So far, after around two months and multiple visits from Eddie, Steve is still going strong.

"A D8," Steve says, holding it between his thumb and forefinger so Eddie can see it clearly. "One of the kids left it behind yesterday."

"They were playing D&D here?" Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he holds his hand out.

Steve drops the dice into his hand, watching as Eddie inspects the gold numbers and hums softly with appreciation. "I host a weekly D&D program," Steve explains. "A group of regular kids plays, and they were getting a little disruptive when they played in the common area--" Steve gestures to the cluster of tables where the kids used to set up "--and the program gives them the meeting room for a whole afternoon."

Eddie looks up at him like he's just said he's a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's not an awe and appreciation that Steve really deserves, but he also can't help the slight puff of his chest when it's coming from Eddie. "Do you play, too?" Eddie asks.

"Sort of?" Steve frowns slightly, trying to remember how Dustin and Will explained his role during the campaign to him. "I'm, like, extras. Their DM, Will, wanted his, uh, NPCs? Yeah, NPCs. He wanted the NPCs to feel more real, so he'll give me, like, a little script before each session and then have me voice the NPCs and give me signals to guide my interactions."

"Signals?"

"Yeah, like, if I'm a shop owner and the characters bargain for stuff. He'll give me a signal of when their, like, rolls are effective or when they suck. And if I'm a villain NPC, he'll give me a signal of when to die and give dramatic monologues," Steve explains.

And Eddie grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement and curiosity. "I kinda wanna hear a dramatic monologue," he says, propping his chin in his palm and looking at Steve expectantly.

He's clearly settled in to watch a show, and Steve isn't one to disappoint. Steve does a quick sweep of the library and confirms that it's just as empty as he remembers. Then, he sits up a little straighter in his chair, clears his throat, and tries to remember his whole dying monologue from the most recent session.

When he speaks, it's with a raspy voice, laced with pain and anger at being defeated, "Curse you, adventurers! You may have won the battle, but the war! The war yet rages, and you will be caught in its carnage! Savor this victory now, for it will be your last, and you will fa-"

Steve cuts off, grinning when Eddie blinks and pouts. "Why'd you stop?" he asks.

"Mike's character killed me before I could finish. Said my monologue was boring."

Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow at that. "It sounds like your monologue was going to reveal info about the BBG."

"Yep. It was, but Will refused to tell them what the rest would've been, and Dustin threw his dice at Mike for killing me."

"He's lucky it was only that," Eddie says, completely serious, "I might've just killed him."

Steve can't help laughing, imagining Max leaping over the table to tackle Mike to the floor. She's done it before, actually, and the only thing that keeps her from attacking again is the knowledge that Steve will ban her from the library for at least a month if she gets violent again.

"He's lucky none of them want to be temporarily banned," Steve says.

"Oh? That's all it takes to get banned?" Eddie asks.

Steve smirks at the teasing lift to Eddie's question. "Yep, so you'd better watch yourself, Munson. I expect you to be on your best behavior," he says.

"I've never been very good at behaving."

"Great, you'll fit right in with the kids."

He looks up to see Eddie's smile growing wider, and Steve suddenly finds himself wondering how it would feel to kiss that smile away.

Four

Something library school never prepared Steve for is how overwhelmed certain days would make him. That's the thing about working with the public: some days are just never-ending, a line of patrons needing something practically wrapping through the stacks, meaning Steve can't turn off his customer service voice and smile.

Usually, he'll just escape to the back, lock himself in the employee bathroom, and take five minutes to cool down. Robin has gotten great at knocking on the door when the five minutes is up, pretending she needs to use the bathroom so the other staff members don't suspect Steve of breathing away a breakdown.

Today, though, Steve can't hide in the bathroom because of the music Robin is playing in the back. It's grating on his ears, scratching against his brain and down his spine like nails on a chalkboard, made all the worse by his interactions with an older patron with a voice that was rough and somehow rounded with sharp edges at the same time.

If Steve asked, Robin would definitely turn off the music, but he also saw her tense shoulders, how on edge she was, and how the music was the only thing helping her calm down. So Steve couldn't. Instead, he just said he was going to shelf-read the non-fiction section.

Because nobody goes into the non-fiction section. At least, nobody goes to the part of the section filled with encyclopedias. It's a safe corner, tucked into the back of the library where few people wander unless they're desperate for an outdated book of information that has no real bearing on their life.

So here Steve is, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed. This part of the library is quieter, but he can still hear the general ambiance of the building: people talking in hushed voices, the keyboards clicking as people type, chairs scraping against the floor as people pull them out.

And quiet footsteps coming closer. They're accompanied by the gentle sound of metal bouncing against itself. Steve doesn't open his eyes, but he does know that it's Eddie, and he's not at all surprised that Eddie managed to find him deep in the stacks.

It makes him feel a little warm, actually.

When Eddie reaches him, he doesn't speak. He just sits next to Steve, close enough for Steve to feel his presence without their shoulders touching. And he seems content to stay in silence for as long as needed, but Steve doesn't want silence. He wants to hear Eddie's voice; maybe it will override the discomfort of the music and the patron from earlier.

"Could you talk?" Steve asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

But Eddie hears him and scoots a tiny bit closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"I have opinions about library shelving because of you now. Like, why are science fiction and fantasy shelved together as one category? They're two different genres; they represent different things. One is a reflection of our society and all that it could be, an escape into something new, and the other is a reflection of what our society was through the eyes of a new world. And, like, it's not even the ones you think. They both embody different lessons and values and pairing them together is, like, demeaning to the hallmarks of the genres and what they can do for readers."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like an opinion about library shelving and cataloging. Steve can't help a soft laugh escaping him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. "What started this?" he asks.

"There are Star Trek novels right next to, like, Seven Blades in Black on the shelves, Stevie. It's horrendous. What the fuck?"

Steve smiles a little, gently knocking their elbows together. "Unfortunately, I can't control how our cataloging department works," he says.

"Sounds like a skill issue to me," Eddie says, "Maybe you should just get good."

Steve barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand at how loud it sounds. He glares at Eddie, his eyes holding no real heat.

Eddie grins right back and leans in a little closer. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle and brushing against Steve's brain like a cool stream of water on a hot day.

It makes his shoulders relax, something in his stomach uncurling and draining all the tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he replies, "thanks."

"Anytime, Stevie," Eddie says, smiling at Steve like he's capable of hanging stars in the sky, like he'd do a backflip with a broken spine if Steve asked.

And Steve...Steve finds himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and he has no plans to find his way out anytime soon.

Five

Most of the library staff hates reshelving books, but Steve loves it. He doesn't have to use his brain beyond remembering the alphabet, and he can listen to music while he works, easily zoning out so the time passes quickly.

Which is what's happening now. He's probably been shelving for a while, but he's been listening to a Corroded Coffin playlist the entire time, humming along to Hellfire and Chains. His head is bobbing along to the music as he works, and he turns to grab another book off the reshelving cart only to find Eddie standing right behind him.

Steve jumps, his heart leaping into his throat as he chokes on air and Corroded Coffin notes. Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, somewhere between afraid and infatuated, and Steve can't help asking, "What the fuck, man?" in a whispered voice.

"Whatcha listening to, Stevie?" Eddie asks, ignoring Steve's question.

Oh. If he admits to knowing Corroded Coffin's music, then he'll probably be giving up the whole "I know you're famous" thing, and based on Eddie's somewhat terrified look, that's not a great idea right now. But he also can't lie about the music because Eddie's going to recognize his own songs.

"Uh, Corroded Coffin, I think? I heard Lucas playing one of their songs. It sounded catchy and he sent me a playlist he'd made on Spotify," Steve explains.

It's not a lie, technically. That is how he discovered Corroded Coffin, but that was almost two years ago now.

"And, uh, what do you think?" Eddie asks, glancing at the earbuds still playing in Steve's ear.

Steve studies him for a moment before smiling. "They're really good," he says, turning around to continue shelving books. "I like stuff from their second album best so far."

"Do you usually listen to metal and rock?" Eddie asks, glancing at the shelving cart before passing Steve another book.

Steve almost tells Eddie to let him do the shelving, but then he sees that Eddie passed him the correct book for this section, so he bites back the words. Instead, he nods and crouches to slide the book into a bottom shelf. "Yeah. More older stuff, I guess. Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails, Queen. That kind of stuff," he says.

"Holy fuck, you're perfect," Eddie says, his voice soft and full of awe and Steve is about to laugh when Eddie adds, "Marry me."

Steve blinks, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass. He saves himself at the last minute, quickly standing up again so he can look at Eddie. "Seriously?" he asks, wondering if maybe he had just misheard.

He did not. And this is proven by Eddie moving around the shelving cart, grabbing Steve's hand, and getting down on one knee. "Incredibly. Your music taste is fucking immaculate, sweetheart. Also, you're funny, hot, and sweet, and I've recently developed a librarian kink, I think. So. Marry me," Eddie says before using his teeth to pull off one of the chunky rings on his left hand so his right hand doesn't have to let go of Steve.

He then holds the ring up, and Steve really shouldn't find that as hot as he does. Like. Really hot. And he almost considers saying yes. But then he fully processes Eddie's words and almost laughs. "You've developed a librarian kink? So, what, you'll drop me the moment another librarian starts ranting about the Dewey Decimal system?" he asks.

"Okay, fair," Eddie says, nodding once. "Let me rephrase that. I've developed a Librarian Steve Harrington kink. Only you, big boy. Nobody curses out the Dewey Decimal system like you, sweetheart."

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Steve, actually. "It's a shitty cataloging system," he says without thinking.

Eddie nods in agreement, still on one knee, still holding up the ring (it's shaped like a coffin, now that Steve spares it more than a quick glance) and still looking up at Steve with an infatuated smile. "It is," he agrees, voice a little softer than before like he's ready to just kneel through Steve's passionate rant about it.

And Steve thinks that might be the final straw for him. "I'd prefer at least one date before marriage," he says, grinning down at Eddie and pulling him back to his feet.

Eddie follows his lead, standing a little too close considering Steve is, technically, still at work. He turns Steve's hand over so it's palm up and drops the ring into it. "Of course, Stevie. How about lunch tomorrow? My treat," he offers.

Of course, Steve says yes.

+ One

"I still think there are funnier ways to tell him," Robin says, crossing her arms and pouting as Steve leans against the counter, his back to the door.

Steve sticks his tongue out at her. "You're just mad you lost the bet," he says. Telling her she lost had made Steve's entire week, especially since it means Robin is finally (finally!) going to dress up with Steve the next time they go to a basketball game together. He's got a jersey and shorts ready for her; he's had them ready since the first game he invited her to. They have her name across the back, are the ugliest shade of mustard yellow he could find, and match his perfectly.

"That jersey is the work of the devil," she says, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of it.

Steve just grins. "You never know, maybe a nice girl will be enraptured by your awkward lesbian swag," he says.

Robin is about to answer when she looks over Steve's shoulder and grins, her eyes lighting up. Steve looks over his shoulder to see Eddie smiling at him. "Hey, Stevie," he says.

And here it is. The moment of truth. Steve grins right back at Eddie and turns around, letting him see the graphic on his shirt. It's one he bought at a Corroded Coffin concert a year ago. It has the band's first album cover emblazoned across it with Eddie front-and-center, playing his guitar with the other band members around him as bats swirl in a red haze above their heads.

Eddie stares at the shirt, his smile freezing on his face and his body tensing. Panic starts to fill his eyes, and he glances up, looking ready to explain himself only to stop when he sees Steve's soft, endeared smile. He pauses, studying Steve's expression for a moment before laughing a little awkwardly and tugging on a lock of his hair, using it to cover his mouth. "So, uh, you knew the whole time," he says.

"Yep," Steve replies, leaning forward on the counter so it's harder for Eddie to avoid looking at him. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eddie asks.

"You didn't want me to," Steve says. Then he considers his words and corrects, "Or, you didn't want to be recognized. When you first came in, you were bracing yourself for it, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable if I pretended not to know you."

"What about all the other times?"

Steve shrugs, his smile becoming reassuring. "I figured you'd either tell me when you were ready, or I'd tell you when we went on a date because you'd probably get all in your head about having a secret like that while we were dating."

And Steve is right. Eddie would have freaked out over the secret, and he would have struggled with telling Steve at just the right moment, and time would have stretched on and on until it had been too long to tell him anything. It would have been agony for Eddie and left Steve concerned and just not a good time for anyone.

"So, uh, how long have you been a fan?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wasn't lying about hearing your music from Lucas, but I did lie about the time. It was two years ago," Steve explains.

Eddie slowly nods and then starts to grin. "So, how's it feel dating a celebrity?" he asks playfully, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Like a Wattpad fantasy come true," Steve deadpans, nearly cracking when he hears Robin lose her shit behind him, her laughter turning into wheezes within seconds.

Eddie laughs, too. It's loud and bright and makes Steve feel warm and happy, like every problem could be solved simply by making Eddie laugh just like this.

Steve is eager to find out if that's true.

[miniimight]

Gotta admit the way you write midoriya is just so... Literally can't find the words to describe it. I had this scenario I wished to request of you it's okay if you don't want to do it. Midoriya with an significant other that hears people taking about them, not deserving of him and how they are using him for his fame and all, then he teaches them a lesson?

DEFENDING YOU the gossip around the office gets on his nerves a lil bit

with izukuuuuu :heart: + gn!reader

notes absolutely in love with this request ! thanks for reading my stuffs <3

a while after you were revealed as his girlfriend, izuku was faced with many backhanded comments about his relationship. sure, they were few and far between, but when they did happen he felt his self-control diminishing way faster than usual. especially if that person had the balls to say it to his face.

to be completely honest, he thought that everyone else should mind their own fucking business. he doesn't kid around when it comes to the people he cares about. the fact that he wants and needs you is enough.

but, nonetheless. people will still run their mouths.

it was another casual day in the office. you had the day off work and he was stuck at the agency headquarters, flipping through paperwork.

you were excited to see him. izuku had been holed up in work for what seemed like forever, and you were so happy to get the chance to spend time with each other during the coming weekend.

as you walked through the halls, you noticed the eyes following you. they were hard to miss, but they were part of the routine at this point. you soon found yourself in the elevator, head ducked as you pulled out your phone.

izu: you coming up soon baby?

you: yeah, i'm like 5 mins away

you: okay im in the lobby, heading up rn

izu: yayyy can't wait to see you, love :3

you smiled softly to yourself. when you looked up, the elevator was packed; all you could see were the backs of the seven or so individuals in front of you, pushing you into the corner. your stomach felt a little uneasy, thinking about how you'd have to tell these people to move to let you through, but you remembered izuku was on the top floor. there was no way they were all heading there.

the hushed voices of a few employees made your heart pound.

"you're talking about deku's s/o?"

"yeah! aren't they... i dunno. a little out of his league?"

"i'm saying! like i'd get it if they were maybe a model or something. but they're literally just a civilian. how disappointing is that? like uravity is right there."

"i'm sure they're just using him for his fame. he's in the field so much with other badass heroes, they probably barely get to see him. if deku wasn't deku, they'd dip in a heartbeat."

they all laughed.

you wanted to stop listening. flood your mind with meaningless thoughts to distract you. but you couldn't resist tuning in, feeding your insecurities and doubt.

the ding of the elevator saved you. they filed out of the elevator, leaving you with the cheerful jingle of the lift.

you were quiet as you walked down the long halls of the top floor, their words echoing in your mind. you knew they weren't true—and god, would izuku reassure the fuck out of you—but negativity was negativity. and negativity had a way of finding cracks and slipping through.

the giant glass doors slid over the tiled floor soundlessly, yet izuku's head popped up from behind all the papers and files at your arrival.

a huge grin bloomed on his face as he sped over to you, paperwork forgotten. "hello, honey. did you get up here okay?"

"yeah," you smiled and held up a takeout bag. "i got some snacks for us."

izuku's calculating gaze bore into you as he gingerly accepted the bag. "you alright?"

"hmm?" you tilted your head in confusion. of course he noticed. "yeah, i'm good." the last thing you wanted to do was stress him out even more.

his brows furrowed. he stepped closer to you, his hands resting on your waist. "don't lie to me, sweetheart." his tone was scolding but his eyes were gentle. "what's bothering you?"

you pursed your lips, sighing. "just a couple people talking about us, 'n how i don't deserve you—"

you felt him stiffen, his expression going cold.

"how i'm using you for the fame, blah, blah, blah." you forced a smile, trying to play it off in an amusing light. "you know, the usual."

izuku was tightlipped, responding only with a "hmm."

he was staring at the wall behind you, eyes narrowed as if he'd seen a villain or something. you knew that expression well.

you cupped his face, guiding him to look at you. "hey. it's okay, izu, i'm used to it. don't mind them, alright?"

izuku's gaze softened and he leaned into one of your palms, the other lifted off his face by his own hand. he pressed a little kiss to your wrist, rubbing his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you both walked out his office.

he decided to drop it, and just love the shit out of you as an apology for experiencing such disrespect. even if he did everything in his power to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him, he still felt guilty when people attacked you.

he still had many questions: who were they, what floor did they get off, and how can i discipline them? he usually felt sympathy for when employees messed up, but suddenly... he wasn't against firing them all.

the ride down to the lobby was filled with many adoring employees who giggled at the sight of the pro-hero, a phenomenon you were also very familiar with.

soon, you were gliding through the lobby, so close to freedom when he picks up on the idle chatter he hates so much.

"i think that's them!"

"it is. woah, his s/o is way more dull when you see 'em next to each other."

izuku grit his teeth. his eyes glanced down to you, seeing the way you blinked and pursed your lips. he suddenly paused. you walked forward a couple steps before you were tugged back by his stationary hand.

you looked at him curiously. "izu..?" your eyes darted around, lingering on the three that said those things about you.

he smiled, bending over you as he kissed your lips gently, pecking your forehead as well. "why don't you go to the car, love? i'll catch up in a second."

you gave him a warning look, noticing how he was drifting to where the three sat. "izu... really, let's just go."

he kissed you again and your head was swimming. "i'll only be a minute, angel. go on." he pat your back and watched as you left the lobby. when he turned around his expression was completely different.

he walked over to the three people, who instantly straightened at his approach. they shared glances with each other, both a little scared and confused.

"hello." izuku smiled, but there was no indication that he was happy. "i'm deku, and you all are..?"

they meekly listed their names, to which izuku took mental notes and nodded.

"great. uhm, i overheard you talking about my s/o?" he cocked his head to the side. "please, i'd love to hear your thoughts." he chuckles. "i'm kinda obsessed with them, or whatever."

"o-oh..." they stutter and avoid his gaze, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "no, it was nothing, really."

"hmm? nothing?" izuku and his months of public appearance training only made him more intimidating when angry; the joyless smile he wore as annoyance bubbled through him was ten times worse then any outright show of anger. "are you sure?"

"yes! promise." one nods eagerly.

he laughs mirthlessly and the three weakly chuckled along, thinking they were out of trouble. leaning close to them, his voice dropped into a low hum. "i'd like to keep it that way, yeah? let's not make them sad just so you could feel like you have an opinion about something that does not concern you whatsoever."

the three held onto each other, eyes rounded with shock as they listened to the pro-hero before them.

izuku's head tilted ever-so-slightly. "well?"

they began to trip over each other with their agreement, yes, of course! we wouldn't dream of it. consider it done! whatever you say!

izuku flashed his famous smile. "glad we got that sorted out. and just so that we're crystal clear, if i—or anyone for that matter—catch you talking down on my s/o again..." he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. "i'd hate to have to terminate your contracts... it's a lot of paperwork, you know?"

they shook their heads, bowing deeply to the pro-hero. "never again, sir!"

"great!" izuku chirped. "bye!"

[]

your leg bobbed nervously in the car, wondering what izuku was doing and if you should go in there and see for yourself. just as you were about to act, you saw his green hair bob over the cars beside you, eventually coming into view.

you exhaled in relief as he slipped into the driver's seat, sighing happily. he turned to stare at you, leaning dreamily over the steering wheel. you smiled, though your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"you're so pretty." he sighed.

"i—" you blinked, laughing. "thank you, baby."

"i'm so lucky to have you..." he continued, leaning over the compartment separating your seats.

you giggled, matching his energy. "mhmm."

he gave you a lopsided smile. "you deserve everything i have and more."

your face felt warm as you shy away from him, knowing why he was spouting all these affirmations. his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your face. his hair brushed against your forehead as he captured your lips. he grinned at you when he pulled away, staring at you with such adoration.

"so..." you ignore your racing heart and try to regulate your breathing. "are you gonna tell me what happened?"

he squished your cheeks before turning back in his seat, starting the car. "nope!"

you smiled and rolled your eyes, uncertainties gone and doubt erased. in the end, you weren't ever bothered. and strangely, you never saw those three faces again.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 3/12)

ALRIGHTY HERE WE GO !!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie and gareth don't get along and eddie thinks you look cute when you're sleeping

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, alcohol use, maybe gareth's a bitch lol, scary feelings, a sprinkle of fluff, and eddie being down bad in every way, shape, and form <3

word count: 5.3k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Breakfast has been your favorite part of joining Corroded Coffin on tour. Aside from the fluffy, soft, sweet pancakes, grease-dripping bacon, and toe-curling orgasmic coffee, breakfast has always been lighthearted and fun. Richie makes everybody sit at the table together like a family so there can be some sense of normalcy throughout the busy days; it’s nice.

You alternate with your seating, wanting to get to know all of the crew members as best as you can while you have the time, and you’ve had decent conversations amongst some awkward ones. On the first day, you sat next to Mitch, the light coordinator, and listened to his story about how he met his husband. They’re expecting a baby this fall, and you two bounced a few names off each other for him to consider. On the second day, you sat beside Kaylee, the tour stylist, and talked about your college horror stories. On the third day, you sat next to Brandon, a stage manager, and spoke about… well, you don’t really remember because he talked the entire time, and you kind of blanked out. Slowly, you’ve made your way around the table each day, learning little things about the group.

Today, however, there is not the usual lighthearted and familial atmosphere at the table.

You came down to the breakfast hall a bit late from your shower, and the second you stepped into the room, you could sense the tension still hanging from yesterday. You haven’t spoken to or seen Eddie since he confronted Gareth at the studio, and you’re not sure if he’d even want to see you, but you have no choice but to take the only open seat next to him.

You quietly say good morning to everyone, and Richie is the only one who gives you a warm response. “How’d you sleep, birdie?” He questions around a mouthful of eggs. You nod and settle in, “Good, I almost slept through my alarm.” You jokingly admit. Richie chuckles, “1500 thread count sheets will do that to you.” He says, causing the table to erupt in a soft symphony of laughter.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you try your best to avoid glancing at Gareth, but there’s no doubt everybody notices the shiner he’s sporting on his eye. The room is filled with sounds of forks clanking against plates and the quiet mumble of short, faint snippets of conversation until Richie clears his throat, “We’ve got an interview with the press at twelve and rehearsals at three, like always, so do what you need to do before then. We can’t be late for this interview, got it?” He reminds the crew, and everybody’s head nods in understanding, all but one.

“I’m not going.”

All eyes turn to Gareth, a full plate sitting untouched before him as he slumps back in his seat. Beside you, Eddie lights a cigarette, and you opt to busy yourself with taking a bite of your French toast, practically feeling the anger radiating from Eddie as he takes a drag. Richie clears his throat once again, scooting closer to the table and tilting his head with a look of confusion, “Um… why not?” He questions.

Gareth glances at him as best as he can with his black eye, “Because I’ve got an eye the size of a tennis ball on my face, Richie.” Everyone at the table seems to uncomfortably shift now that the elephant in the room has been addressed. Eddie doesn’t waste a second to speak up from beside you, “Nothing you didn’t deserve.” For the first time since yesterday, Eddie looks at Gareth and sees the swollen eye he left from yesterday. Eddie doesn’t show a single hint of regret.

The table returns to quietly eating as Gareth ignores Eddie’s comment, “I’m not going.” He reiterates. Richie sighs and rubs the coarse mustache on his face, “You have to go, Gareth. Just put some shades on.” He suggests, returning to his food as if the conversation finished, but Gareth holds up. “I’m not gonna sit there in shades like a fucking idiot, man.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice, son,” Richie snaps, dropping the fork in his plate to look at Gareth. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole, and you’re sure you’re not the only person with that wish when you look at the other crew members at the table. “This band has an album coming soon,” he reminds the group, “We don’t have time for rumors and gossip to start circulating; you need to show up as a unit. This isn’t up for debate.”

The conversation could’ve ended there because, quite frankly, it seemed like Gareth was willing to go with it, but Eddie couldn’t let the moment to say something slip, “Just let him go, Rich.” He shrugs. You glance at Eddie, watching as he taps his cigarette ash into his plate, “It’s not like he brings much to the table anyway.”

Across the table, from the corner of your eye, you see Gareth lean forward to glare at Eddie, “The fuck does that mean?” He snaps.

Eddie looks at Gareth for the second time and shrugs, “Means you’re a shit band member, man. Fuckin’ Mitch has done more for this band than you ever have or could’ve done.” He gestures towards Mitch, ignoring when the man slightly cowers in his seat. Gareth looks at Eddie with a stone-cold glare, saying nothing momentarily and letting the thick blanket of silence curl around everyone's neck. He leans forward and points a finger at Eddie, who’s not even looking at him anymore, “Fuck you. You wonder why Chrissy left you for Jason Carver, it’s because you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, guys–” Jeff tries to interject, but Gareth continues speaking, “At least Jason acknowledges her. That’s more than you ever did.” He jabs. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head before speaking around a cloud of smoke, “You don’t know shit about me and Chrissy.”

Gareth tauntingly laughs, “Nah, she filled me in quite a fuckin’ bit.”

The invisible ticking time bomb seems to have gone off in Eddie’s mind. He stands up from his chair, a loud screeching noise grating everyone's ears as he flicks his cigarette into his plate, “The fuck did you just say?”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Richie interjects, standing up and raising his hands as a gesture to stop. “Enough. Fucking enough,” he glances between the two heated men in annoyance, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you boys, but you need to figure your shit out on your own time.” He snaps. Your hands rest in your lap, anxiously picking at the seam of your jeans, wanting to shrink into your seat because you can’t help but feel as if this is your fault. It was your journal he read anyway; you play some part in the issue, right?

Richie sits back down with an exhaustive huff, picking up his fork to resume eating, but before he picks up a piece of his food, he gestures at the table, “Either sit down and finish your goddamn meal, or fuck off somewhere. Both of you.”

Eddie stands for a moment before deciding to leave without another word.

By the time the press interview rolls around, you’re more anxious than you thought you’d be. Between the time frame of breakfast and now, you had more than enough time to ponder over the messy situation you’ve accidentally created between Gareth and Eddie.

Truthfully, you had no idea that the Chrissy Gareth had mentioned during your conversation was Eddie’s ex-girlfriend Chrissy; hell, you didn’t even know Eddie had an ex-girlfriend named Chrissy until yesterday!

On one of your few sit-downs with Gareth, you ended up discussing his love life, and you took the leap of faith to ask him if he’d ever been in love.

“…There was one girl. Her name was Chrissy; we went to high school together.” 

“You dated?” “No,” Gareth shakes his head, “No, we never dated. But I always had this weird connection with her… like we understood each other in a deeper way.”

You smile in awe of the sweetness behind his words, jotting down little notes in your journal as he speaks. “I always admired her to an extent, but she, uh,” he clears his throat and scratches at his jaw, “she was in another relationship for most of the time I knew her.”

Gareth silently watches as you continue to write. You look up at him when you realize he’s been silent for a while, and you open your mouth to ask what is wrong, but he speaks before you, “Is this um,” he gestures towards your journal, “this bit isn’t going in the final publish, right?” He asks. You tilt your head, a few questions running through your mind, but you brush them off, “Um… well, I suppose I can leave some of it out, yes.”

Gareth nods, shifting in his chair and clearing his throat. “Okay, good. Um… well, anyways,” he begins, “Me and Chrissy didn’t hook up until I went back to Hawkins during our break off from last year's tour.” 

Ultimately, Gareth had explained that Chrissy had recently left a three-year relationship when they’d hooked up. He explained that they crossed paths at a bar, and things took off from there, but he cut it off with her the following morning. He never told you why he cut it off, but you now understand the guilt of betraying his best friend had forced him to do so.

You had no idea that the entire conversation was pertaining to Eddie’s ex; if you had known, you would’ve never written it down. You wouldn’t have even finished the conversation if Gareth had told the whole truth because, quite honestly, you would rather not be in the mix of this disaster. 

You’re disappointed. Upset that Gareth practically used you to get the guilt off his chest. And the truth is, that conversation did little to nothing for Gareth in the long run; he still felt guilty for never telling Eddie, and it’s only gotten worse with the added tension between them now that the secret is out.

Eddie was cold toward you before, but now he’s thicker than the ice in Antarctica. He’s avoiding you at all costs— and maybe he’s just avoiding everybody. Still, you can’t help but take his avoidance personally, especially when you’d thought you were finally reaching some sort of middle ground with him.

You sit off to the side of the stage with the rest of the band’s crew as you watch them take their seats for the press interview. Eddie sits on one end of the table while Gareth sits at the other end, the other two members filling the two seats in between. Gareth had no choice but to cover his black eye with a dark shade of glasses, and it seemed like nobody paid mind to it— typical rockstar wardrobe and all.

The interview was off to a good start, with reporters asking questions about the upcoming album, life on the road, and relatively anything about the music. Near the end, however, is when things seemed to get rocky. The questions became more of a filler than anything important, and boys were evidently tired of answering. It wasn’t until a journalist asked a specific question that things seemed to reach a tipping point.

“There’s been rumors that this album has more love songs than usual. Could you confirm or deny that?” 

The boys look at each other, and Gareth leans forward to respond, but Eddie beats him to it. “There were a few, yeah, but um… They didn’t make the final cut, so maybe next time.” 

The energy vividly shifts amongst the boys; Gareth looks at Eddie and scoffs before leaning back into his chair, clearly throwing in the towel for the rest of the interview. You don’t understand the apparent dispute just now, but you find out when the boys finish the interview and walk into the green room.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth spits, walking a few paces behind Eddie. “We’re not cutting the song.” His loud voice booms through the room, not caring if anybody will overhear their dispute. 

“I’m not putting a song out that you wrote about my fucking ex-girlfriend, Gareth. Are you out of your fucking mind?” Eddie snaps. 

Richie turns to the band and crew members and motions for them to leave the room, which nobody even bothers to protest, eager to escape any more awkward conversations for the day. Everybody else makes a beeline for the tour bus, planning to fill in the few hours before rehearsal.

You glance back at the room where Eddie and Gareth are bickering, and you bravely choose to sit in the chair outside the doorway. You try not to stick your nose in their business, but they’re arguing loud enough for you to hear snippets either way. The conversation doesn’t last long before Gareth storms out of the room and down the hall, bursting through the doors and out of sight.

You glance back into the room where Eddie stands, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and sparking up. You figure now is better than ever, so you clench your bag strap and stand up, hesitantly stepping into the room. Clearing your throat once you’re a few steps away from Eddie, you watch as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He glances at you and turns away, “What do you want?”

You take one step closer, “I um… I wanted to apologize.” You begin. He looks at you again, brown eyes tired and riddled with pain— and you can’t imagine how much of a whirlwind the past twenty-four hours have been for him. “For what?” He asks, confusion and annoyance laced within his tone.

He’s turned to face you, shiny chains glistening on his hips beneath the building lights. You shake your head, struggling to find the words, because, was this really even your fault?

You obviously can’t apologize for Gareth fucking his ex-girlfriend— you had no part in that— and it’d seem silly to apologize for accidentally dropping your journal. So, what exactly do you apologize for? How do you let him know that you’re sorry this was how he found out, even if it isn’t entirely your fault?

You decide to try and redirect your wording, “I want you to know that I was never going to put that in the final article.” You say.

Eddie scoffs, taking a drag of his cigarette before responding, “And why would I believe that?” He questions. 

He’s gazing at you like the first night you’d met when he was watching you from across the green room and commanding you to leave. You think he has the same intentions now, but Eddie has yet to learn that you’re stubborn.

“Well, for starters, Gareth asked me not to put it in,” you admit. Eddie’s jaw tenses and part of you feels as if you’ve tossed Gareth under the bus, but you had no choice. This was Gareth’s doing, and if you have to tell the ugly truth to save your image, then so be it. “He didn’t tell me why, but I know now. And now that I know the full truth behind that story, I definitely won’t write it in.”

Eddie watches you momentarily, intense eyes burning holes through you before he turns away. He scratches his jaw for a moment, taking a breath before returning to you. Eddie points to you, the burning cigarette hanging between his fingers as he speaks, “You know,” he begins, “somehow, you’ve managed to persuade everyone that you’re some sweet, innocent small-town journalist that just wants to ‘appreciate the artists,’ but that,” he gestures to your bag where he knows your journal is resting, ashes fluttering to the ground with each wave of his hand.

“That proved everything I believed about you.” He says. “People like you are fucking vampires. You suck the life out of people to keep you alive, and it’s fucked up.” He snaps. 

Your face twists in anger, subtly shaking your head as you subconsciously step closer, “Eddie, I didn’t… I didn’t even know she was your ex, and if I did, I would’ve never written about it.” You exclaim, tossing your hands in exasperation. “And I’m sorry you found out the way you did, but you can’t hate me for something someone else did!”

Eddie frustratedly rubs his face, “That’s not the point!” He exclaims. “I read your journal. I saw everything I needed to see to confirm that I was right about everything with you and this fucking article.” He stresses, his loud voice echoing throughout the empty room.

“I'm not here to destroy your life, Eddie!” You snap, voice raising to match the level of his own. Eddie steps closer, towering over you and glaring so intensely into your eyes that you almost cower, “I don’t fucking believe that for a second.” He snaps back.

His chest rises and sinks like a rocky boat beneath his angry breaths, and he’s so close you can smell the cigarettes and mint on his breath. The scent of his cologne wrapping around you and choking you like a snake.

You don’t know how much more patient you can be with Eddie. You don’t know how much more of this back-and-forth you can take before it drives you insane. You want it to end. You want him to understand that you’re not his enemy; you never were.

You can only think of doing one thing: unzipping your bag and reaching in to grab your journal. Eddie watches with a hint of confusion in his eyes as you crack open the journal and start flipping through the pages. “What are you doing?” He asks in annoyance, patience running thin at your silence.

You flip through nearly half of the book before finding the pages you sought. You don’t think twice before ripping them out, not even caring if it destroys the binds of your precious journal. “The fuck are you doing?” Eddie asks again.

You tear each page out and drop the book to the floor, ignoring Eddie’s questions as you shred each torn-out page to pieces. Eddie watches in silent and hidden shock as each pen-soaked strip flutters to the ground, creating a heap of trash between where you both stand.

You tear the last piece and let it fall before looking at Eddie, watching as he gazes at the torn pages. Nearly five pages worth of writing, gone.

“There. It’s gone. Do you believe me now?” 

Eddie says nothing when he drags his gaze up to look at you, shock-ridden across his face. “I’m not who you say I am, Eddie. I’m not here to ruin your life; that was never my intention.”

Eddie stays silent, seemingly lost for words, and even if you want him to say something, your braveness has begun to falter, and you itch to leave the room. You’re strong-willed, but you’re no fucking superwoman, and Eddie has pulled every exhausting breath out of you, and you can’t seem to get a grip because every time you breathe in, all you smell and feel is Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

You grab your destroyed journal from the floor, not bothering to try and fix the binding before you shove it back into your bag, and you don’t say another word as you leave the room.

You’ve been writing for hours when you check the clock— twelve thirty-two. The band played a show tonight, but you decided to stay in your hotel to let your ankle rest— you haven’t been taking all the precautions the medic advised you to, so by the time lunch rolled around, you were in an uncomfortable fit of pain. You used your free time by tweaking the draft of your article— adding in new pieces of information and taking out unnecessary notes. You’re about twenty pages in, but by the end of the month, you’ll have compiled it all into ten; but for now, it seems your brain has become a muddled mess of words and ideas. 

You suppose drinking three glasses of wine didn’t help fix that, either. You’re tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunk, and that’s a dangerous place to be when you’re practically working. You don’t even want to think of the past drunken works you’ve made; they’re worse than you’d like to admit.

You sigh, dropping your pen onto the hotel desk, leaning back in your chair, and rubbing your hand down your face in exhaustion. You glance over to the chair you’ve propped up to rest your injured leg, deciding that you should probably ice it since you’ve neglected to do so all day.

You figure you’re done writing for the day anyway, so you put your things in order before grabbing the ice bucket and making your way out of the room to find the ice machine. 

What you don’t expect to find on your journey is a sleepy Eddie sitting in the hallway just a few doors down from yours. Maybe you drank four glasses of wine.

Out of common, drunk courtesy, you redirect your path and limp over to where he sits, arms folded across his chest and head leaned back against the wall with shut eyes.

You gently say his name to grab his attention, but he doesn’t budge. You shuffle closer, calling his name out again, and when that doesn’t work, you gently nudge him with your non-injured foot. His eyes flutter open, blinking away the light sleep from his eyes as he looks at you.

You tilt your head in question and ask, “What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?” 

Eddie shifts in his spot, grunting and glancing at the bucket in your hands. From the looks of it, Eddie is as sober as can be, so you guess he decided to skip out on the after-show festivities they usually partake in. “I um… I lost the key card to my room.” He explains, gesturing to the door across from where he’s seated.

“The band is out for the night, and the lobby’s closed, so…” 

You nod in understanding, glancing around the empty hallway, catching sight of a cleaning lady entering a room down the corridor. And technically, you don’t owe Eddie anything.

You could leave him here in the hallway to spend the night sleeping on the hard ground, and it probably wouldn’t bother him either way because Eddie clearly doesn’t like you, but fuck you feel bad.

You’re not a terrible person. You wouldn’t kick somebody when they’re already down, and Eddie… Eddie is clearly down.

Before you can thoroughly think it over, your liquor-weighted mouth speaks before you can stop yourself, “You could crash in my room for the night.”

Eddie looks at you with the blankest expression he could ever muster and blinks, “Why would I do that?”

God, he’s such a fucking asshole.

You shrug, gently swinging the bucket in your hand and glancing around again, “I don’t know, unless you'd like to sit here all night like a moron, then be my guest.”

Your ankle hurts as you stand and wait for Eddie to make up his mind, and just when you almost decide to throw in the towel and let him fend for himself, Eddie grumbles a short “Fine,” and gets up.

You watch as he reaches down to grab his leather jacket and turns to you, “You can go ahead; I have to get ice for my foot.” You tell him, pointing to your door so he knows where to go.

Eddie glances down at your injured leg and says nothing before he reaches forward and gently takes the bucket from your hands— cold, jewelry-covered fingers brushing up against your warm knuckles and sending shivers up your spine.

He hands you his jacket, and you stand silently, confused by the exchange. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he answers your question, “I’ll get the ice.” And he doesn’t even bother looking at you before turning around and leaving to find the ice machine.

You’re too drunk to figure out what that was about, and your ankle is starting to throb under the pressure of standing, so you walk back to your room clutching his jacket and trying your hardest not to let the familiar scent of Eddie knock you dead.

You leave the door slightly propped open for Eddie and place his jacket on the chair near the desk. In the meantime, you busy yourself with removing your suitcase and clothes you’d haphazardly tossed around from the extra bed where Eddie will be sleeping. You figure you’ll just head to bed once Eddie gets here, so you exchange your jeans and fitted top for shorts and a ratty old He-Man shirt from high school.

You’re setting your previous clothes aside when Eddie steps into the room, a bucket full of ice in one hand with a Coke and chips in the other. You raise an eyebrow, questioning the extra items, and he shrugs as he shuts the door with his foot, “What? The vending machine was right next to the ice, and I was hungry.” He explains as he places the bucket on the desk, making sure to avoid placing it on your work pages. He tries his best not to look at what you’ve written, and you don’t point it out when he clears his throat and diverts his attention to something else. He grabs the wine bottle and shakes it, raising an eyebrow when he realizes it’s less than halfway full, “I take it someone had a good time?”

You roll your eyes, walking over to take the bottle and put it back on the desk. “Not that it’s any of your business.” You respond, turning to grab a ziplock to fill with ice. Eddie takes the bag from you and shoos you away, “Go sit down, I’ll do it.”

Your face twists in confusion, “You’re starting to scare me. Are you gonna kill me?”

Eddie laughs and busies himself with scooping large chunks of ice and dropping them into the open ziplock. “I will if you don’t sit down.” He responds.

You relent and walk over to your bed, sitting at the head of the mattress to lean against the pillows near the headboard, doing your best to shove a pillow beneath your foot lazily. You sit silently, hands folded against your stomach, watching Eddie work.

He’s wearing his usual black jeans, decorated with hanging chains from his waist, and a plain white shirt, hidden muscles flexing beneath the soft cotton. His shoulders are broad yet hidden beneath the thick, curly mane of hair he has. Tattoos litter his arms, a few trickling down to his fingers, and you catch glimpses of his knuckles dripping with drops of water from the ice and— fuck.

There’s no way you’re checking out Eddie Munson, the asshole who’s made your life a living hell these past few weeks. You really can’t handle your liquor.

You panic and grab the TV remote, quickly turning it on to fill the silence. You distract yourself by watching the random sitcom playing until Eddie steps into your view. You must’ve been focused on the show because Eddie seems to have traveled to the restroom to get a towel to wrap around your makeshift ice pack. Your sheets are pulled back, leaving your bare legs on display, and you can’t help but squirm when Eddie stands at the foot of the bed and takes in the sight of you.

He says nothing as he gently lowers the ice onto your ankle. His inked fingers sink into the plush cotton of the towel, and if Eddie weren’t an artist, you bet he could land a job as a hand model. Or maybe you’ve really lost it.

His gaze flickers to catch your wide eyes, and you hold your breath when he speaks, “Is it too cold? Do you need another towel?” He asks. You stutter to answer him, so you shake your head no, eventually sputtering out a response of, “N-no, it’s fine. Thank you.”

Eddie turns to grab his snacks and falls into the other bed with a sigh, cracking open the bag of chips and popping a few into his mouth. You grimace and pull the sheets over your body as you comment, “If you bring ants to my room, I swear to god, Munson, I’ll hunt you down.” 

Eddie chuckles, glancing at you as you shift around and get comfortable in bed, “Not with that broken foot, you won’t.”

You glare at him over the heap of expensive duvets and pillows, “I wonder whose fault that is?” You respond, falling back into bed when you see him roll his eyes. 

Eddie clears his throat after a moment, “Speaking of that,” he begins; you peek over at him once again to watch as he puts the chips aside and grabs the remote to start flicking through channels. “Since we’re off these next four days, you should keep it light on your feet.”

You sarcastically laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re actually concerned for my well-being. This night keeps getting weirder and weirder.” You joke. Eddie pauses his task to glance at you, “No, I just…” You raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue. He rolls his eyes, “I’m not a complete asshole, you know?” He grumbles, turning back to the TV.

You’re snuggled into your sheets now as you watch Eddie flip through the channels, admiring how different features of his face light up under the different colors from the screen. He’s… pretty.

“What do you have planned for your days off?” You question behind a drawn-out yawn. You think you catch a glimpse of a smile on Eddie’s lips, but you can’t see very well in the dim lighting. “My Uncle Wayne is flying in, so… I’m spending time with him,” Eddie explains. You smile, “Your uncle?” 

Eddie nods, and you hum, “That’s nice… Can I meet him?” 

You’re never drinking wine again.

Eddie looks at you as if you’ve asked him the dumbest question on earth, “Why would… why?”

You shrug, “Maybe he’ll help me figure out why you’re such a grump.” You half-heartedly tease. Eddie scoffs, returning to watch the movie he’s landed on, “If you think I’m grumpy, you’re not equipped to meet Wayne.” He comments. And then something remarkable happens.

Eddie smiles to himself.

It’s small and obviously not meant for your eyes, but you see it either way, and it… fuck, it makes you feel things you would’ve never imagined you could for such an asshole of a man. What is going on?

“He can’t be any worse than you.” You joke. Eddie scoffs, “Nah, Wayne takes the cake for grumpiest man alive,” he bids. 

Eddie tells you about Wayne, little memories he remembers that bleed into more memories until, eventually, he’s practically taking a walk down memory road. You go back and forth with him, commenting when you had a similar situation or when Eddie mentioned the same show you loved in high school.

At some point, Eddie’s stories and the low hum of the TV lull you to sleep, and you find yourself lying in cotton candy clouds, sinking into the softness and letting it surround you. 

Eddie’s not sure when you checked out on him, but he figures he’d been talking to himself for a while because you're fast asleep when he looks over at you.

He watches you for a moment and appreciates the way the blue and white hues of the TV dance across your face. Your skin looks soft under the fluorescent lights, and he thinks the steady rise and fall of your breaths is more entertaining than any movie he could’ve landed on. And you’re so pretty— soft and molded to perfection, and Eddie thinks he might like you more like this; when you’re not talking and being the most obnoxious person he’s ever met. Eddie hates the feeling he gets in his chest from just looking at you. 

You’re cute, he thinks.

He shakes his head to free himself from whatever weird feelings are spiraling through his mind, and he turns off the TV, letting the darkness swallow the room.

He’ll just have to worry about his feelings another time, he thinks.

————

part four

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a/n: HII U MADE IT TO THE END, U CAN ALL THANK MY STINK @mmunson86 FOR THE TINY PIECE OF FLUFF, THIS WAS FOR U BAE <3 ANYWAYS, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @mvnsonslvt @s-u-t

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

[gingiesworld]

One

Lizzie Olsen x GN! Reader (Platonic)

Warnings. Death. Sad fic

Word Count: 6.9k+

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

One is all it takes for multiple disasters. It only takes one brick to bring down a house. It only takes one ingredient to ruin a recipe. It only takes one decision to implicate the lives of others. It only takes one to break another's heart. And it only takes one punch to end someone's life.

Lizzie was walking through the halls that she used to walk down when she was a teen with Y/N beside her. They were the one who made her day better. Just being in their presence was enough.

She stood before the faculty board and her eyes instantly found Y/N's eyes and their goofy smile. They were a huge supporter of her dreams.

Y/N and Lizzie both sat beside the lake as they basked in the sun. Lizzie had been having doubts about being a good enough actress to not be associated with her sisters. She loves her sisters, she just wants to achieve her dreams without their help.

"Are you sure I can be good enough?" She asked them. They gave her a bright smile to reassure her.

"Of course. I know you will be bigger than the twins." They spoke with such passion. "You are amazingly talented. Not just with your acting Lizzie. You have multiple and the one thing I love the most about you is despite your anxiety and panic attacks. You are determined to succeed and I know you will."

"What about you?" She asked them. "What will you do?"

"I don't know. It's hard being a kid in the system." They thought hard. "Maybe I want to be someone for those kids who have no one. Someone to listen to them when no one else will. Someone to encourage them to follow their dreams."

Lizzie could only smile at their big kind heart. They would choose a job with a poor salary and help the children who needed it most.

Lizzie soon found her way to their classroom. It was full of flowers and candles. The classroom was as full as it could be. She walked in and saw there were posters of her projects along with pictures of the two whenever they visited each other. She felt a single tear slip past the barrier and down her cheek.

Y/N was talking to the kids about ambitions and dreams. They were speaking emcouraging words to each of the teens before their eyes zoned in on the board with them an Lizzie.

"This woman right here had her doubts when we were 17." They told them as they pointed to Lizzie's picture. "She wasn't sure if she would make her own name without being associated with her sisters. But she did it. She got that far all on her own. She went to college. Worked endless hours in rehearsels and auditions until she got her first off broadway show." The teens listened to them intently. "She made it. She got that far all on her own without help from her name or her sister's fame." Y/N walked back to sit on their desk. "You can all do that too. Be who you want to be. Break the mold set by your families."

Lizzie soon saw how much their students loved them. She was only there today to see the school where she and her best friend went and where they went on to teach. She was proud of them. They had become the person they wanted to be. They became a light that guided the students to reach their full potential.

When her eyes caught sight of a bookend that she had bought them when they got their first teaching gig. She couldn't stop the tears from falling. She sobbed for her best friend.

"Miss Olsen?" Someone spoke, causing her to wipe her eyes before turning around to the student who called out to her. "We're sorry for your loss." She smiled at the kids as they all sat in their seats.

"You do realise their lessons were canceled?" She asked them all.

"We just didn't feel right to not be here." One of the students spoke.

"They believed in us. All of us." All of them agreed with the statement. Lizzie pulled up an empty chair and sat in front of the desk. She didn't feel right sitting at Y/N's desk.

"They were the best person I ever knew." Lizzie whispered as the students listened. "If you want to share some of the stories with them I am not going anywhere."

She listened intently as each student told her a different memory with Y/N. She felt her heart swell with how much of an impact Y/N had had on each of them. Just like they had an impact on her.

She was only supposed to be visiting the school to see where Y/N most of their days. She never dreamed that she would be back here without them. The one person who she could count on in moments like this. Now she didn't know who to turn too in times like this so she found comfort in their classroom and hearing the stories.

It was hard being back here. She saw all of their friends. All of the people that they had impacted their lives. Even their last foster parents too. She never thought she would meet all of these people like this. Not when her best friend was laying cold at the funeral directors.

"Why did this happen?" She asked her mum who was sitting beside her.

"I don't know sweetie." Jarnette spoke softly. "I just know they were extremely proud of you. Of everything you have achieved."

"It's just so hard mama." She cried as her mother wrapped her in her arms. She wanted nothing more than to comfort her daughter.

Lizzie was distraught. After hearing the news, she flew out straight away. She tried to make it back in time but she was too late.

The night that Y/N was taken, it only took one drunken punch to set the scales off balance. With that punch came a reaction that would change lives forever.

Y/N was walking arm in arm with a colleague who just wanted to have a nice meal with a friend after going through a break up. What neither expected was her ex to approach in a drunken stupor.

"Come on Jack, give me a chance." Steve slurred as he tried to grab his exes arm.

"No." She spoke shakily. She had seen him drunk before but not like this. He had some glint in his eyes.

"It's you isn't it?" He pointed his finger at Y/N. "You stole her from me."

"No. You cheated on her." They stated as they held Jack behind them. "You ruined what you had and I am being a good friend."

"Whatever. You just want to fuck her." He yelled as he pushed them back. Y/N stood their ground. They knew not to provoke him any further but they didn't expect him to throw a punch. A punch to the nose which caused the cartilage to puncture the membrane and cause a bleed rendering them unconcious.

She wanted to know what had happened. She knew that the person responsible was arrested. But she wanted to know why. Why did her best friend have to die?

Lizzie decided to go and see Y/N. She felt her eyes sting. This is going to be the last time she sees her best friend. Cold and gray. Eyes closed and a peaceful look on their face. She saw the ring that she got Y/N. She wore the other on her right ring finger.

Lizzie decided to surprise Y/N on their winter break. The two walked to their usual spot by the lake. Enjoying the silence in each other's company.

"I have something for you." She spoke nervously. She played with the velvet box in her pocket.

"You being here is enough Liz." They told her honestly. They could see the nervousness in her eyes.

"I wanted to get this for you as a thank you for always supporting me. Always being the one to push me to achieve." She told them as she pulled the velvet box out.

"You know I already agreed to marry you one day." They spoke seriously causing Lizzie to blush. "I'm joking." They chuckled.

"This is more of a representation of our friendship Y/N. One that I will carry with me for the rest of our lives." She told them as she opened the box with two matching rings. She placed Y/N's on their finger then hers on her own.

"I love it Lizzie." They whispered as they turned to give her a hug. She smiled as she enjoyed the comfort of her best friend's arms.

She played with the ring on her finger. The one that hadn't been hadn't been taken off in a decade.

"You know this wasn't supposed to be how the next meeting should go." She whispered as she looked at Y/N's resting features. "We were supposed to hang out. You were going to meet Robbie and grill him. Ask him all those uncomfortable questions." She chuckled as she wiped a tear from her eye. "It wasn't supposed to go like this." She whispered shakily. She hated that she was unable to hear their voice again. Listen to their laugh or see their smile. "I just really miss you and I never got to say goodbye."

She kissed their forehead before she left the room. She walked out of the building sobbing. She didn't care for the paparazzi catching these pictures of her. They were the last thoughts on her mind.

She just started to wonder how she would be able to go on without her best friend. The one person who she could always count on to cheer her up after a hard day. The one person she found safety and comfort in.

Lizzie was sat in her dark living room. Everyone else was getting the preparations in order for the funeral. They had to accommodate the amount of people who were going to be there.

She jumped at the sound of her door opening and closing. She turned around to see Robbie walking towards her. He engulfed her in his arms as she cried.

"I'm here for you." He whispered as she clutched his shirt. She just sobbed until she fell asleep in his arms. He had obligations with Milo Greene but he canceled them so he could be with his better half knowing she needs him now more than anything.

He lay back on the sofa and just let her sleep, slowly falling asleep himself.

Lizzie and Y/N were both dancing around the kitchen. Lizzie had convinced Y/N to join ballet with her which they did reluctantly but they just wanted to make her smile.

"I think we should check the cookies." Y/N spoke as they twirled Lizzie back to them.

"I think they will be fine." She smirked as she enjoyed dancing with them. "Would you be there to dance with me at my wedding?" She asked them.

"Of course." They responded softly. "Will you?"

"Definitely." Before they could dance some more, the smoke alarm went off.

"I thought you could bake." They teased her as she just lightly slapped their arm.

"Aww. They're ruined." She whined.

"That is what the smoke machine signals." They stated earning a glare off of the green eyed girl.

Lizzie woke with a headache, feeling an unusual warmth. When her eyes found the source she lay her head back down on Robbie's chest. His hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly.

"Why are you here?" Lizzie asked him confused.

"Because you need me." He told her softly. "I would rather be here with you. Supporting you. Comforting you. Being everything that Y/N was for you if you'd let me." He told her. She started to cry again as she nuzzled her head into his neck.

"They would have loved you." She whispered as she stayed in her position.

"I'm sure they would still attack me with those questions." He said with a smile. She remembers all of the times they did the same thing with her previous boyfriends.

"They would have." She lifted her head from its spot. She gave him a watery smile before she got up. He frowned as he watched her skulk to the kitchen. She started to get the ingredients out for Y/N's favourite cookies.

"What are you making?" He asked her.

"Y/N's favourite cookies." She stated as she started to weigh the ingredients.

"Do you want any help?" He asked her.

"No." She said as she got working. "Y/N usually helps." She let a tear slip and wiped it away harshly. He felt helpless. He didn't know how to make her feel better other than being there for her.

"Why don't you tell me something about them." He suggested as she started to make the dough.

Lizzie and Y/N were at their usual spot. Lizzie was lying there just sunbathing as Y/N stood admiring the lake. They looked over at her and smirked when they noticed her eyes were closed.

They slowly crept up to her and snatched her up into their arms and ran to the lake, jumping in with her in their arms.

"You twat!" Lizzie squealed as she moved her wet golden locks from her face as Y/N just chuckled.

"It was too good of an opportunity to pass up." They laughed as she splashed them. The pair ended up splashing each other in the sun, laughing with each other.

"Wow. They sound really fun." He observed as she nodded in agreement.

"They were the best. My mum used to say we were soulmates. Platonic soulmates. Whenever either of us needed the other, we were there in an instant." She said softly. He smiled as she spoke about them until she started to throw the utensils. "But now they won't be here anymore because they're dead."

He moved forward to hold her and stop her from harming herself. She fought against his hold. She tried everything but he just held her.

"He killed them." She kept repeating in sobs as he calmed her down. He held in his own tears from seeing her so broken. Like she had lost a piece of herself.

In that moment he became the one to be there whenever she needed. He may not be Y/N but he will become her One constant comfort for however long she needs.

Robbie was adamant to stay by her side through it all. He knows that she tends to push people away but he wasn't going to give up. No matter how harsh and venomous her words can be. He was going to stay for her.

The funeral was approaching and she wasn't ready for this at all. She wasn't ready for one final goodbye. It wasn't something that she ever thought she would have to do so soon.

Robbie brought in two cups of coffee as she was watching some old videos on her phone.

"Who's going to be the biggest star?" Y/N spoke as they pointed the camera at a shy teen Lizzie.

"Y/N. Stop." She whined as she tried to push the camera away.

"I will stop when you agree." They stated. "So who's going to be the biggest star?"

"Me!! The other Olsen!" She squealed.

"The better Olsen." Y/N cheered.

He watched as she smiled tearily at the phone as a young Lizzie and Y/N played through the phone. She thanked Robbie for the drink before she looked at him.

"The school wants me to do a speech after their funeral." She whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. "I don't know what I'm going to say."

"Just say what's in your heart." He told her tenderly. She nodded as she moved on to the next video.

Y/N was dancing and singing along to Blink 182 All The Small Things.

"All the small things. True care. Truth brings." Lizzie laughed in the background as Y/N fell off the bed.

"Oh my god. Are you ok?" She asked once she had calmed down.

Lizzie laughed at the video with Robbie.

"They seem fun." He pointed out as she smiled.

"They were." She spoke softly. "They actually broke their arm when they fell." She laughed. Robbie smiled as she laughed which soon turned into uncontrollable sobs. He was quick to hold her in his arms.

"It's gonna be ok." Robbie whispered as he kissed her head as she cried into his chest shaking her head as she pushed herself away from him.

"No it's not." She raised her voice as she stood up. "Nothing is ever going to be ok again. Ever. They are gone. My best friend is gone. The." She took a shaky breath before continuing. "The one person who could always pull me back from from from this is gone and they're never coming back."

"I know that Lizzie." He said as he approached her slowly.

"NO YOU DON'T." She shouted. "THEY PROMISED ME. THEY PROMISED THEY WOULD ALWAYS BE HERE. THEY PROMISED!"

Robbie was lost on how he could help her. He wanted to help her but he didn't know what she needed. He just stood there and watched as she left the house leaving her phone.

Lizzie walked aimlessly with her arms around her chest. Hugging herself. Trying to feel some comfort. She soon found herself at the lake where they would spend most of their time together.

She stood and watched as wind blew through the trees and the grass. Everything looked as though someone hadn't just faded into nothingness. The ripples of the wind on the lake moving graciously.

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?!!" She screamed. She wanted to get everything out. All of her anger and emotions.

"I didn't." She heard a voice in her mind. She recognised the voice. She knew exactly who it was.

"No. No. No." She shook her head with her eyes closed. "You're dead. You're not real." She muttered.

"Obviously."

She shook her head vigorously to get the voice from her head.

"You might want to scream."

She sighed as she felt the tears fall down her face. She looked over the lake and she knew she was alone. No one was here. This was Y/N's and her place. Their little part of LA that they could escape every trouble they had faced. But this bit of trouble was following her around.

She took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could. She could feel her lungs and throat burning. She felt it all. The pain. The sadness. The anger. The denial. Everything she had felt since she got that phone call from her mother.

Lizzie was sitting in her New York apartment after she had just done a photoshoot. She had a glass of wine in her hand waiting for Y/N to call. Their daily call and conversation always made Lizzie feel better after a hard day.

She quickly picked up her phone when it rang. She sighed when she saw her mum's caller ID.

"Hey mum." She greeted her.

"Are you sitting down?" Her mother asked.

"Wow. Not even how you are." Lizzie teased as her mum just sighed.

"I need to know you are sitting down." She told her daughter.

"Yes. I'm sitting down." She told her mother. "Why what happened?"

"It's Y/N." She told her. Lizzie could feel the room getting smaller.

"What happened?" She asked her shakily.

"They uh. They're in surgery right now." She told her daughter. Lizzie instantly got on her computer and booked the next flight. "It's bad, baby."

"I'm on my way." Was all Lizzie said. She made sure she had everything she needed as she rushed out of the apartment to a cab and raced to the airport.

Lizzie found herself on her knees. Breathing deeply after she screamed holy murder.

"Feels better."

"No." She whispered into the silence. "Because you're not here. You're not real."

"I am just the memory you have."

"I miss you." She cried out. She knew that this whole conversation was in her head. She knows that.

"I'll always be with you."

She knew that she would have to accept that there is no miracle to bring them back. They won't dance with her at her wedding. They won't go with her to get her first award. They were gone. Gone for good.

Lizzie returned home late that night. When she walked in her home, Robbie engulfed her in a hug. He was worried for her. He had no idea how to know if she was safe or not.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she wrapped her arms around him.

"It's ok." He replied as he squeezed her. "I'm just happy you're safe." He told her as he pulled back and cupped her face.

"Thank you." She whispered tiredly. "I'm just going to go to bed." She told him as he just nodded. He understands that she needs time and space right now. She knows that Y/N is not going to be coming back. She knows that she has to live her life without her best friend.

Y/N and Lizzie raced through the airport to meet halfway. When they did, Y/N wrapped their arms around her, lifting her up in the air and spinning her around.

"I missed you superstar." Y/N said as they set her back on her two feet.

"I missed you too." She smiled as they took her luggage from her and held their arm out for her to hold. The two walked out of the airport and towards Y/N's car. "So, anything happen while I've been away. Have you met someone?" She asked them, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Well there is someone." They spoke nervously. "Her name's Elle. She is really sweet. She's a medical intern."

"Wow. Smart and beautiful." She smirked at them.

"Yes she is." They said as they kept their eyes on the road. "What about you? I heard that there may be someone."

"There may be someone." She replied. "He worked on my latest project with me."

"Is he a good man?" They asked her.

"He is." She smiled thinking about Boyd.

"I guess I may need to have a little chat with this guy." They smirked as Lizzie just laughed. That is what Y/N is like. They are protective of her and she is just as protective of them.

Robbie watched as Lizzie slept. It seemed like she hadn't slept in a while. He hated seeing her like this and there was not anything that he could do to help her.

He was soon broken out of his thoughts when there was a knock on her door.

"Hi?" Robbie asked the unknown man who knocked late in the evening.

"Hi, I'm Boyd." He introduced himself. "I heard about Y/N and I wanted to see if Lizzie was ok."

"She is finally getting some sleep." Robbie told him as he nodded.

"Please can you give these to her." He asked Robbie as he handed her a card and another envelope.

"I will." Robbie replied. Boyd gave a thankful smile before he started to walk away.

"Lizzie deserves the best." Boyd spoke as he turned back. "Y/N always made sure of that. They knew that it wasn't me. I wasn't the best for her but you may be. You might be the one who truly helps her through this."

Lizzie was sitting on the stairs from waking up after hearing the door go. Robbie smiled at him before bidding goodbye. He smiled softly as he saw Lizzie's figure sat upon the stairs.

"That was Boyd." Robbie told her.

"I heard." She spoke bluntly. "What's that?" She asked, referring to the envelope.

"He said that these were for you." He told her. She took them from him and walked to the kitchen. She opened the card and huffed reading those words over and over again.

Sorry for your loss

My deepest condolences

All of them are just meaningless words. No one truly means them. They only say them in hopes to make themselves feel better. That's all.

Lizzie then opened the envelope. It was a scrapbook of old polaroids she and Y/N had taken while she still lived with Boyd. She must have forgotten about these.

The smiles on both of their faces in every one. The dates all signed on them too.

She also saw a note from Y/N on one of the two.

Y/N was sitting in Lizzie's living room with Boyd as Lizzie was in the shower. They had the pen in their hand as they wrote something on the back of one.

'We all think that happiness comes without reason.

Truthfully it is formed from the people we surround ourselves with.

The people who care enough to do anything to make you smile.

So please never stop smiling Lizzie.

The world would become a dark place if you did.'

Boyd watched Y/N intently as they wrote.

"You really care about her don't you." He asked them as they looked at him.

"I do. I would do anything for her." They told him. "That includes beating your ass if you ever break her heart."

"Why didn't you and her ever end up together?" He asked them.

"We never saw each other like that." They told him honestly. "Yeah we love each other and want the other to be happy. But she is destined for this life and I am happy where I am."

"You're a teacher." He pointed out curiously.

"I am. I enjoy helping kids realise their dreams and help them on the right path to follow them." They told him. "I never had anyone in my life to help guide me like that. I am a child from the system. Sent to different families until they decide they're sick of my existence." Boyd felt bad for them not realising just how deep it went. "I never want a child to feel the way that I did. Feeling alone like you have no one to guide you. Then Lizzie and I became friends in Freshman year and we have been best friends ever since."

Lizzie smiled at the little poem in Y/N's handwriting. His card may not have spoken any words of comfort but this gesture spoke paragraphs. To have something that even she had forgotten about was something special. To see all of those memories again made her smile. Smiling at the memory of her best friend.

Today was a day that Lizzie wasn't ready for. She stood in her mirror putting on some make up, getting ready for her final goodbye. Robbie was dressed in his best clothes, even though he didn't know them. He didn't want Lizzie to be alone. Y/N wouldn't want her to be alone either.

Lizzie sighed as she pinned her hair up. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. But in truth no one really is. No one is ever ready for it. To watch as the one person who has supported you through everything. The one person who you turned to whenever you needed someone.

"Are you ready?" Robbie asked her. She just shook her head with her eyes closed.

"No." She whispered shakily. Not trusting her own voice. "I don't think I'll ever be ready." They both made their way downstairs to see her mum and the twins stood there waiting. They all gave her a hug, letting her know that she isn't alone. She will never be alone.

"It's time sweetie." Jarnette spoke as she wrapped her arm around her. Lizzie just nodded and followed them all out to the car.

The drive behind the hearse was quiet. They never realised how many people they had helped. How many people they had pushed to achieve their dreams. Y/N was the light that shone in many lives. The guidance that helped many to achieve greatness.

Lizzie was asked to do the eulogy for them today. She has it in her pocket written out. She has it but she can't bring herself to stand at that podium. Looking at all of the faces who had been a part in Y/N's life. Whether it be a fleeting moment or a few years. So one of their students had taken Lizzie's place.

"Y/N was a well respected teacher. The coolest." They said sadly. "They were the one to push you to be the best you can be. They helped us through the hard times too." They took a deep breath before continuing. "They always told us about Lizzie. How they had been best friends since they started to walk the halls at school. They were extremely proud of her. Of everything she had achieved. When we asked them what they wanted to be when they were a kid they would say, 'I'm living my dream. I am helping make a difference in your lives. Pushing you to believe in yourself. That was my dream.'" They sniffled lightly before they continued. "They were the most selfless person I had ever met. They had the purest soul and I know that everyone who had ever had the pleasure of even having a conversation with them will miss their witty ways."

Lizzie couldn't help the tears that fell down her face. Her mum rubbed her back soothingly as Robbie held her hand. Her eyes never left the picture of Y/N that stood beside their coffin. The smile on their face was one she always loved to see. It used to bring her hope and comfort. But all it does now is bring her pain. The realisation that she is never going to see their smile again other than in pictures. Never hear them laugh again or tell one of their bad jokes.

Y/N and Lizzie decided to sneak a blunt down by the lake at their spot. The two were laying on the grass side by side looking up at the sky.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?" They said, causing her to look at them.

"What?" She asked them, confused.

"You know, like that scene out of Matilda. The kid with the braids." They said as they snapped their fingers. "I would look awesome with braids." Lizzie laughed at their goofiness before turning her head to the sky.

"I think it would feel free." Lizzie spoke as she watched the clouds move slightly. "Not being defined by the laws of physics."

"Wow. High Lizzie is very philofosis. Philospica." Lizzie laughed at them, sounding out the word they wanted to say. "Philosophical! BOOM! I finally got it."

Lizzie just laughed at them as they celebrated in their mellow state of mind.

Lizzie stood there and watched as they lowered the coffin into the ground. She felt like at that moment time had frozen. She was stuck in this pit of grief and sadness. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this pit.

Robbie watched as she just stood there even when everyone else had left. She stood in the sun as Y/N lay in the ground. Ready to be covered in soil. Buried and to never see the light of day again.

"Come on Liz." He spoke softly as he reached for her hand.

"They used to call me that." She whispered.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. She shook her head waving off his apology.

"It's ok." She whispered. "This isn't how I wanted the two of you to meet." She told him

"I know." He replied. "But I am here now. I am not going anywhere." He told her softly as he pulled her into him. "I am going to be here whenever you need me." He kissed the top of her head and held her as she cried. In that moment, he made both Lizzie and Y/N a promise. He was going to protect her heart. Help her whenever she needs to. Be a shoulder for her to lean on. Just be everything she needs him to be.

As the weeks went by, Lizzie closed herself off again. Everyone tried to reach out to her. But no one was successful. She was sat in her living room going through all of the things that she had from Y/N's.

She found a shirt of theirs and brought it to her nose, taking in their scent. She couldn't stop the tears from coming at the familiar scent. The scent that she will never smell on them again. She also had a letter from the school. Inviting her to speak with the student body.

Robbie brought in some food that he knows she probably won't touch but he will keep doing it until she eats. He will be her safety net. He will be the one to catch her.

"Do you know how many hits it can take to end a life?" She asked him. "One." She answered before he could speak. "All it took was one hit to take Y/N away from me. From everyone." She turned to face him and all he could see was pain. "I have hit and banged my head multiple times and nothing. Nothing fucking happens to me. But one punch was the end of them. How is that fair? How is it fair?" She started to cry as Robbie just wrapped his arms around her. He was just there for her. That was all he needed to be.

Over the next few days leading up to Lizzie's appearance at the school. She had been distant. But as much as she doesn't want to do it. She wants to make Y/N proud. She knows that in a time like this, there are a lot of people affected by losing Y/N.

She found her way to the cemetery on the day of the assembly. She stood before the temporary marker and the mound of soil which was still fresh. She hated that this was where Y/N now was. Completely alone and in the cold.

"You know I want to hate you for leaving me. I really do but I just can't." She took a deep breath. "I just miss you so much. The only person that could help me through this is laying in the ground. You are gone Y/N/N and I am still here." She wiped the tears that started to fall. "I am still here without you. We were a package deal. It was supposed to be the two of use against the world. You and I til the end." She just looked at the pathetic marker that only read their name and the plot number. Nothing else. Nothing with meaning. It broke her heart to see it like it. "It isn't fair Y/N. It isn't fair."

She turned to look at the sky, watching as the clouds floated by. Not caring that this month has been hard on everyone.

"Well I best get going Y/N." She looked back at the grave. "I uh I have a speech to give at the school." She sighed before looking at the grave one more time. "I miss you so damn much Y/N. So damn much." She whispered before finally making her way to her car where Robbie was waiting for her.

"Are you ready?" He asked her as she just nodded. She watched as the streets went by as he drove. Most of the peopoe they had passed had probably passed by Y/N without knowing them. Not knowing what an amazing person they were.

When they had arrived at the school, Lizzie just looked at the building before her. It was heartbreaking to walk through a building that was special to Y/N. It was the place where the two met. The place where they both changed each other's lives. The place where Y/N changed many lives.

"I'm ready." She whispered as he smiled at her. He held her hand as they walked through the halls towards the gym. They sat on one of the chairs provided at the end of the bleachers. There was a multiple videos of Y/N with their students.

There was one where Y/N was using a skateboard in the school yard. She smiled at the memory of them trying to perform a new trick they learned.

Lizzie lay there on the grass watching Y/N skate. She was amazed at how talented they were. They even tried to teach her but she gave up before even letting go of Y/N's hands.

"Be careful Y/N." She called out when they carelessly jumped and grinded on the bench. Before they knew it, they had hit a nut that was sticking out and flew and banged their head into the next bench.

"I guess I know how to fly." They chuckled as Lizzie glared at them.

"I told you to be careful Y/N." She scolded them. "That is going to leave a scar." She said as she observed the wound on their cheek.

"Hey, it can be my way to get chicks." They told her with a smirk. "Chicks dig scars." Lizzie just laughed at them before carefully helping them up.

Lizzie could tell by the hour long video of Y/N and their students, they were loved by everyone who had the pleasure of knowing them. When she was called up to give her speech, her nerves were starting to get the better of her. But she only had to look at the picture of Y/N on the screen to give her the confidence to do this for them. She took a deep breath before she looked up at the student body.

"You know, I was supposed to give them a eulogy at their funeral but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to read the words that I had written. The memories I wanted to share." She took a deep breath as Robbie gave her a comforting smile. "What all this has really taught me is that One is an important number. It has so much value to it. It took one person to change many lives for the better. Y/N touched so many lives. They pushed them to reach their dreams. Their.full potential. They pushed me to follow my own." She sighed as she glanced at the picture behind her. "They knew that I would make it. They knew I could do it my way. Without the connections through my sisters." She smiled at the students who listened to her intently. "They were the most amazing person I had ever known. I had ever met. They were mine. My protector and my number one fan."

She looked towards Robbie who just smiled proudly at her.

"I know that they have lived their dream. Their dream was helping you. Being someone to listen to you when you need it most. To push you to achieve your goals in life." She told them all. "Y/N Y/L/N is our guardian angel. They were our angel when they were alive, and they still are." She turned back to the picture of Y/N. "We will continue to live for our dreams Y/N. I love you." The whole school stood up and clapped for her as she walked away. She walked back through the halls towards the car.

She was ready to move forward. Move forward with Y/N in her heart. Live for Y/N.

7 Years Later

Robbie and Lizzie were now finally married with a four year old child. Y/N Riley Olsen-Arnett. She wanted to keep Y/N's name alive and her first born was special to her. Robbie knew how much it meant to her to name them Y/N so he agreed.

"Why am I called Y/N mama?" They asked her as Lizzie picked them up into her arms.

"Well my best friend is called Y/N." She told them with a smile.

"I thought it was Clay." They said confused, causing her to giggle.

"He is my best friend but I had another one." She told them. "They died 7 years ago."

"Will you tell me about them?' They asked her.

"Someday." She smiled as she tucked them in their bed. She kissed their head before leaving the room quietly.

The first thing you forget after losing someone is the sound of their voice, their laugh. It can be heartbreaking if that One voice was always the voice of comfort or reason. The one who would help you out of so many problems. Then without the pictures, you would surely soon forget the different features like freckles or scars. The colours of their eyes. They soon drift to become a distant memory. One that you hold dearly. One that you would cherish until you meet again.

All it takes is One to either break down a wall or strengthen it. Just like it takes One person to influence a simple or a difficult decision. All it takes is One action to completely change someone's life. For better or for worse.

One is the primary factor of the universe. It can be both dangerous and safe. It's how we perceive that One that counts.

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Prince.

In getting the playlist ready for the next two days I have come to a realization that I never noticed before.

There is not one single Prince song that makes me want to skip or hit fast forward. Or roll my eyes and think "this is so overplayed."

I grew up on radio, when stations were rarely divided by genre. I was there at the birth of MTV. I saw the phenomena of Purple Rain, though I have never seen the movie in it's entirety. (I would have if my mom would have let me go to the movies to see it with my friends, but she would clutch pearls at the R rating, I didn't even ask) I worked at a record store for the release of Sign O' the Times through The Black Album.

Prince has been in the background of my life since pre adolescence.

And not once did I change the station or skip a song on an album.

It was after the death of George Harrison That I recognized what a talented musician he was. Prince did the solo on While My Guitar Gently Weeps at the tribute to Harrison at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I still hold my breath when I hear it.

When making the playlist for an artist/band I try to find interviews where they have been asked what are your favorite songs of your own to make sure that what the artists found as their own best/favorites are included. Prince had been asked this type of question, and his answer would be "The next one." I did find a couple refences to him saying in concert "Those last songs were for you. Now I'm gonna play one for me." then Playing Pink Cashmere.

Prince did have a favorite not of his own writing. A Case of You by Joni Mitchell. He performed his own stylized version and recorded it for a Mitchell tribute album.

“Prince attended one of my concerts in Minnesota. I remember seeing him sitting in the front row when he was very young. He must have been about 15. He was in an aisle seat and he had unusually big eyes. He watched the whole show with his collar up, looking side to side. You couldn’t miss him—he was a little Prince-ling.” - Joni Mitchell

Throughout his career he would send her fan mail. “Prince used to write me fan mail with all of the U’s and hearts that way that he writes,” Mitchell added. “And the office took it as mail from the lunatic fringe and just tossed it!”

I could go on & on, but this is getting long... I ask you all in the next couple days, even if you "aren't a fan" or "that's not my style" to click on one of his pieces you may not recognize by title, and give a listen, maybe expand your horizons.

I have come across many I have forgotten and newer works that I can now call favorites. - @hcibsw2

12 AM April 19 - 12 AM April 21

[rottiens]

I'm thinking about Satoru again (shocker),

And what if he was actually awkward as hell when it came to dating in his early twenties, but often times his wealth and good looks and fame saved him? If you look and listen to Dean Winchester as a grown up, you can almost immediately notice that that man has no idea how to flirt, but his face card makes you forget to listen to whatever he's saying.

What if, for Satoru, reader is the wake up call he needed? What if reader teaches him there's more to him than his power, pretty face and money? That maybe he's actually sweet and funny when he has the confidence ?

I love this. I really love the idea of a socially awkward Satoru trying to flirt with you without knowing where to start.

Fame had driven him to withdraw into himself. The lights, the autograph signings, the people coming up to take pictures… it all became too much for him. So he decided to keep to himself, always waiting for others to approach him, never looking for anyone.

When he meets you and realizes that, unlike the others, you are not chasing him, he feels an attraction to you like never before. But he is awkward in every sense of the word. He looks at you with those eyes that seem to consume you, laughs little and without showing his teeth. When you try to flirt, Satoru simply doesn't know how to play along.

"Is there something on my face?" you ask, subtly touching your chin as the champagne in your glass bubbles at the slight movement.

"I think you're very pretty." His confession makes you smile. You lean over and touch his shoulder, he follows your hand tightening around his shirt.

"What are you doing after the party?" you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

He looks at you, following the movement of your mouth. "Sleeping, I have a lot of work tomorrow."

You laugh. You've never met someone like him before; anyone else in his shoes wouldn't have let that question pass.

"Is your bed big enough for two people? I could keep you company."

"I don't think so. I tend to move around a lot at night," he says, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

You sigh, holding back a smile and finally surrendering shake your head.

"Good night, Satoru." Before you can walk away down the hall, you hear him speak again, with a soft, shy-

"Come have breakfast with me tomorrow."

He didn't know what to do, but he was trying.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine feeling insecure but the Doctor is there to reassure you.

If someone had told you yesterday that you would be the lifesaver of an alien princess, you'd probably believe it. Maybe you'd be a little sceptical, "What are the odds of that happening?", but it definitely was on your Space-and-time-travel bingo.

And there you were, sitting at a long table in an even longer hall under an open sky, celebrating the saving of princess Axalari III. The whole ordeal had started with the Doctor promising to show you a shower of meteorites, except the meteorites turned out to be invading spaceships ready to wipe out an entire species. So you did what any reasonable person would do: throw yourself in the middle of the action. In hindsight, listening to the celebratory music and laughs, it seemed as if the calamity had happened so long ago you could hardly be sure it was ever real. The wraith of war did not leave a mark on the people of this world. Judging by their happiness and celebratory mood, it seemed as if peace had never left their hearts.

The princess was dancing with some commoners - a sight both hard to believe and entirely heartwarming. Once again, she was the star that shone the brightenest, the spotlight in which everyone wanted to stand even for a second. The Doctor and you had the privilege of being named "friends of the crown" but the fame that came with such honour disappeared rather quickly in the court of public opinion: somewhere after the first appetizer during the dinner, the aliens forgot all about the peacemakers. You still haven't made up your mind about whether it was a good thing or a bad one.

"I've always wanted to be like that," you broke the silence. That quiet confession of yours was barely audible over the celebrations but he heard you. He always did, for better or worse.

"...have tentacles growing out of your head?" he asked sheepishly. A grimace of confusion contorted his features. "Nah, you wouldn't look good with tentacles, sorry."

A dry chuckle left your lips. To some degree, you were in disbelief at the direction his thoughts took. "No, it's just... I've always wanted to be inimitable, you know?" you looked at him for a moment. His expression became serious but unreadable except for that. "For people to look at you and in a split second they realise they've never met someone like you and probably never will again. I mean, look at her! It's like she has this magical, one-in-a-million aura. She could be a princess even without the royal title."

The Doctor scrunched his nose and shook his head:

"You're not one in a million."

"Yeah, I know..." you answered quietly. A heavy sigh left your lips. How could you ever think that an immortal, time travelling alien would understand your mundane, egoistic problems? The sentiment probably seemed at best petty to him.

Longingly, you admired the princess dancing with her people. The flowy material of her dress shone as she twirled under the starlight. With that bright smile on her face and a tear in her eye, she couldn't be anything except happy.

"You're so much better than that."

Quickly, you looked back at him. The Doctor had a soft smile on his face like he was fondly thinking about something. There was something adoring yet intense in his eyes and you felt the need to nervously look away. He rarely got like that.

"You think so?" you asked him unconvinced.

"I know so."

You felt his hand tightly squeeze yours.

[hymemena]

Schoolyard Heroes Abominations Lyric Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Torture, death, violence, injury, sacrifice, insect mention, ghost mention

—

Dude, Where's My Skin?

"Cut out your tongue and sing for me."

"You're so dead to me."

"I wanna see you suffering for me."

"Sink your teeth right into me."

"Death calls."

"The insects crawl."

"The ghosts you created are calling you out."

"Take off your skin and dance with me."

"Stare to the heavens."

"These lovely cadavers will block out the light."

The Plastic Surgery Hall Of Fame

"Fifteen minutes is much too generous."

"Suffering with none of the benefits?"

"They will be your plague tonight."

"Nothing shatters like broken glass."

"You're so pretty."

"And you're so dead."

"Look at what they've done to us."

"Built for deception."

"Man-made smiles make the mirrors ache."

"Now your face displays the modern age."

Cemetery Girls

"The skies weren't always black."

"We're still burning."

"My dear, nobody's safe."

"Do you hear me?"

"We will rise tonight."

"The cemetery line has wrapped itself around the world."

"We're still screaming."

"Did you pray?"

"Why would you waste another word on God?"

"I am the Devil and I've come to do the Devil's work."

Violence Is All The Rage

"Let me introduce you to your nightmare."

"You set it to burn?"

"You set it to life."

"You're screaming out but no one's listening."

"We're burning tonight."

"Oh, won't you lie to me tonight?"

"You're saying everything I wanna hear."

"Blood thirsty?"

"You're hiding diamonds in your pockets."

"Darling, there's no way to stop you, now."

Children Of The Night

"They said we'd never make it out of here alive!"

"Everything you touch shall be destroyed."

"Everything you love is crushed and broken."

"Oh, children of the night."

"There's no one waiting for you."

"You're a creature born without a name."

"I'll call you shame."

"Maybe vengeance?"

"Won't you tell me?"

"Tell me!"

The Last Man On Earth

"The world's on fire."

"Wrap me in your napalm blanket."

"You and I are the king and queen of nothing, Baby."

"Take my hand."

"It's better now together, though it's only us."

"We'll raise our glass."

"Now, there's nothing left."

"Fall asleep."

"You and I must make a pledge."

"One more time?"

Razorblade Kisses

"Your lipstick tastes like murder."

"Our hands are sewn together?!"

"We'll come to one another."

"Destroy me to your liking."

"Razorblade kisses leave you bleeding, Baby."

"You're so gorgeous."

"Your lovers' hearts will destroy me."

"Pay me with their lives tonight."

"You are mine."

"Some curses make things worse."

Sometimes They Come Back

"I've come to warn you."

"They're coming for you."

"I've come to tell you how they'll deceive you."

"Tell me!"

"Tell me all the filthy things I wanna hear."

"We have never felt so hollow."

"I'm listening."

"You're not coming back."

"We tried to warn them. They never listen."

"Pray you'll make it through the night."

Beautiful Woman Hunter

"There's a million stitches!"

"How they love to see us shaking."

"Watch the minute hand chase the hour."

"Boys you wanted, girls you devoured!"

"You are the lover, I'm the destroyer."

"Sing for me."

"Won't you take my hand once more?"

"We're still trembling."

"There's no telling what we'll do, now."

"There are no lovers-- Only destroyers."

All The Pretty Corpses

"They will sing to you in praise."

"Darling, won't you touch me?"

"Into the hearts of everyone you love?"

"I hope you hurt so badly, Baby."

"We'll die so slowly!"

"My dear, we'll burn tonight."

"All the rotting harlots, they will memorize your name."

"Revealing that the faces are the same."

"Darling, turn me inside out. Destroy me just for fun."

"Do you hear them screaming?"

Screaming "Theatre" In A Crowded Fire

"If I'm not mistaken, I've murdered you twice before, my dear."

"It's true, my dear."

"You smeared my blood like a whore's mascara."

"It was the right thing to do at the time."

"I snapped my fingers and I made you mine."

"Tonight you're mine completely, Baby."

"I've torn your heart out three times, now."

"You tore me up like I was made of paper."

"You're never gonna see me again."

"Tonight you'll be my only one."

[arent-we]

Beauty isn't a real magic but kindness is

"But for a lady as charming and elegant as you, perhaps I can make some exceptions." -?

.

"I'll show you the beauty of cosmos" -Y/n

What if a reader who has the face of Cayena? But have a different personality?

Orter x Reader

????

.

..

...

....

.....

Continue?

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A lady from a foreign country and also a part of a noble family

"She's short" One of the people who saw her. Ahh yes, the lady just closed her eyes and controlling her emotions, of course she is. She is short why? She got her mother's height and have a beautiful face so what? (4'11?? I don't know, but she can change her height if she wants to, don't get me wrong. Her real height is still 175 but used 4'11 when she's not sure of places because mostly short people lives more and escape easily, that's what my friend said.) "Probably she's just beautiful but weak-" the lady looks at the person who said it. She won't probably kill that person or anything after all she cares so much of her fame.

The lady just continue walking and sees the academy she's looking for, she was been stopped by the guards "I'm sorry but we don't think we've seen you before here" one of the guards said, the lady just smiles at them "But my little brother, this is where he's studying can you let me in?" She can, just use her charming smile and go.

Walking down the halls, she keeps looking for her little brother who still or still not sleeping, as clumsy as she is. She bumps to someone who have a yellow gold eye color (?) "oh sorry-" he looks intimidating. He didn't said anything and she just left too "Wow rude- anyways where's that gremlin"

It's the divine visionary test (? I forgot what it's called) of course those called divine visionaries is here, she just keeps walking and thinking how their organization is better than those called divine visionaries. Many students are looking at her and she just wishes to disappear, if only she can use her teleportation (she uses a lot of her mana) but she can't.

And finally she reaches her little brother's dorm "Gremlin-" the door opens and a boy who's a taller than her (170 cm) and who also had good looks (family gene) "I just woke up why did you?" The first year boy asked "Oh shut it! Let me in." The lady came in and giggling like a teenage girl who is inlove "So I bumped into someone and-! I mean he also has good look" she keeps giggling as her little brother was getting tired "can you-" "No" "Yes" "No" her little brother just sits and listening who's ears was about to fall off "Come on He maybe red flag you said but you see... Mother likes to buy me red jewelries" she said again and rolling on his bed "But it doesn't mean your just gonna crush someone who probably annoyed and doesn't care about you-" before he could finish his sentence a pillow is been thrown at him.

An owl came to the window and gives a letter to her "Oh?" 'Y/n please go back, you have a lot to do again here. -The creator of Heavenly Chasers' ...Can I just enjoy my vacation before I'll go there again and not sleep for a week doing a lot of works?" Her little brother was getting a coffee and continue listening after all he likes gossips too "His name is Orter Madl" The lady looks at him and smiles "You're a life saver you gremlin"

.

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Part 1

Should I continue?

[lilykatelyn-blog]

niki finds out that reader got into a fight with the girl that was hitting on him? reader beats the girls ass 😍

yessss. go (name), fuck that girl uppp. At this point my blog is gonna be a Riki blog, and I’m happy abt that.

❀Jealousy, Jealousy❀

SEND IN A REQUEST

pairing: riki x reader

genre: angst, fluff

summary: someone hits on your boyfriend and you get jealous. but it was just one time right? no. it was 4 fucking times, and that was annoying, so you beat her ass. naturally he’s worried, and angry.

You and Riki were on a candlelit dinner date, enjoying your 1 year anniversary with food and non-alcoholic drinks. “This is nice, we should do this more of-“ “RIKI!!!” His girl best friend goes running up to him, abandoning her friend group. “heyyy.. (H/N)..” he weakly greets, not very happy to see her. You just softly smiled, it was fake but hid what you really thought of her. “hey, (H/N)..” you softly greeted, taking a sip of water. “Oh. You. You’re still dating her Riki? She’s obviously not good for you, look at her, she’s probably a gold digger, yours too handsome for her, you should-“ “(H/N)! We got a table! C’mon!” Hee friends yelled, saving you. They gave you an apologetic glance, then walked away. Hearing what she said, you started fiddling with your rings.

“c’mon jagi, don’t listen to her. you’re not a gold digger.” “Yeah I guess. I just don’t know why you’re friends with her..” you complained, slowly tearing up at memories of what she has said about you. “Jagiya.. we’ve been friends-“ “since you were a kid and can’t replace her, I know, I know.. let’s just finish dinner, yeah?” You said softly and smiled a bit at the end.

when you got home

“I just don’t understand what you have against her!” He said for the nth time as you entered your apartment. “She has hit on you 4 fucking times now Riki! It’s getting annoying! I don’t understand why you fucking keep her as your friend, because every time she sees me she always tries to put me down in front of you! ‘ohhh, she’s a gold-digger’ or ‘oh, she’s using you for fameee’ OR ‘ohhhhh, she doesn’t want you, she wants Jungwon.’ like what the hell? I don’t want Jungwon, I want you, I’m not a gold digger, I refuse anything too expensive, I don’t want fame, we. are. a. SECRET! She’s just so insuf-“”okay, I’ll talk to her about it. But for now, let’s just get ready for bed, okay?” “..okay,” you did your signature pout as he guided both of you to the bedroom and got ready for bed.

Time skip

you were at school, the usual. Of course, (H/N) went to your school. And the comments just got so annoying. She also started hitting you? Like, gurl, it’s not their fault that they are fucking hot and you are not. Like fuck off, anyways. You just stood there in the empty hall as she hit you, not caring about pain or scars. “You. Fucking. Bitch. Riki. Is. Mine!” She punctuated each word with a hit or a kick. Then yo I waited till she was done, pulled her hair, and proceeded to beat her ass. “Don’t. Call. Me. A. Bitch. You. Fucking. Wannabe.” After that, you went home because, school ended after your little fight and no one paid you guys any attention.

“I’m home!” You yelled in case he got off early, walking into the bedroom to get the first aid kit. “Maybe he’s not home.. good, he won’t see the scars and all.” You concluded, failing to notice that his girl best friend probably called him to complain. You went and patched yourself up as an angry Riki entered the house. “(Name)?” He yelled, only having heard what (H/N) told him. “In the bathroom! I’m decent, I think!” You called to him, trying to quickly patch yourself up. “Did you get into a fight with (H/N) today? Pulling her, and shoving her down the stairs?” He asked. “Yes, but I didn’t shove her down the stairs, or pull her. First see what she did to me, then ask yourself is it as bad as what (H/N) got? Which was just me yelling in her ear and pulling her hair a bit.” He then took one good look at you and saw that it wasn’t anything as bad as what happened to her, that you got it worse. “Oh my god, I am so sorry Jagi. I’ll cut ties with her, I promise.” After that he patched you up and you guys had a movie night and cuddled. You made a mental note to pour water on (H/N) because witches melt. (Evilly sniggering behind the phone)

[before-civility]

Taylor swift streaming boycott 13th June, pass it on.

She talks about the genocide or we make her respond in a way she will listen to (money).

Why is it important for her to speak out?

She is the most famous person, arguably, in the world right now. There is a term called soft power, which refers to a country's power not linked to military or political power, but instead its cultural messages. Taylors soft power is huge. Not enough to singlehandedly solve things, but would create huge tidal waves of impact and conversation. Think of how much coverage a single new outfit can have.

What would she say? She's a musician not a politician.

Of course, she's not an expert in politics nor should she pretend to be, but she's got (IMO) one of the greatest PR teams going as well as access to lots of money and power. In the same way I know she isn't an expert in stage design and transport across the world, she can hire the right people. She is also a writer, an artist, and the power of people who can do this is in their craft. It doesnt have to be as radical as Hozier's pre-song speeches or Macklemore's Hinds Hall. It could be decidedly "centrist" and just call for a ceasefire without admiting fault.

Maybe its just too much of a powder keg for her to touch but then, also, how is it ok that she asks for more and more money, power and attention and fame if she will not wield it for justice to say things as basic and simple as "genocide is unacceptable".

Can she not craft a diplomatic message? Elevate other accounts? Even drop a cheeky link? Announce a public donation to medical aid?

And if she cant, because it would jeopardise her power too much, then can I continue to give her that power? Beautiful songs or not.

Its so much pressure on her to be this famous, yes. But then if thats so, make a controversial choice for once. Speak out. Lose a few fans. Is that not better?

If you witness evil and say nothing, at what point do you condone it?

[omegalomania]

highlights from the virtual signing joe did back before his book tour, cause i havent seen anyone talk about it yet:

ppl who participated in the signing got to do a sweepstakes for a merch package and when the spokesperson was showing it off joe was like "and it's got a LOCKPICK and a GARROTE and a BALACLAVA so just DO WHATEVER DAMAGE YOU LIKE"

he introduced black flag, his favorite band, to his daughter and she thought it sounded terrible lkdfjldjfkd

when fob went to induct green day at the hall of fame joe mentions smoking weed with joan jett and miley cyrus. icon.

he regrets not having better tools to deal with his anxiety about touring and worrying about how every time he got in the van he'd be leaving home. "...and i wish i had, instead of looking out the back window, looked toward the front of the van and realized i was with four or five of my best friends and that i was in safe company."

re: the rest of the band, "they are like brothers, at the end of the day. it's a brotherly relationship."

his 8 year old begs him to watch horror movies and r-rated movies with him and he tells her she can watch them when she's 30

"let's talk about music. nothing better than talking about music. don't listen to it. just talk about it."

when asked about his proudest accomplishment: "i love all my children equally. but here's the reality. i am SO proud of fall out boy because it's a gigantic band that i started as a teenager. we just did stadium shows supporting GREEN DAY."

he's also super proud of the damned things and how honored he was that scott ian from anthrax, one of his personal heroes, trusted him to do so much writing

the interviewer goes, "all right here's a softball" and joe goes, "SOFT ME. uh, what?"

his favorite guitar is his 1965 reverse-body gibson firebird

his favorite transformer is grimlock

this question was supposed to be a lightning round but when asked "nintendo or sega" he says nintendo and then spends about 3 minutes talking abt punchout and then rattling off obscure sonic trivia. i love him.

his favorite video game is final fantasy 7. he says he "nearly flunked" out of middle school because of it.

he has a hard time picking a favorite horror movie since he loves horror but he picks "texas chainsaw massacre" as the one that affected him the most. he also recommends "anything for jackson" because it will "give you nightmares, if you are interested in having nightmares"

his favorite star wars character is yoda because his wisdom applies to real life very frequently

a fan-submitted question talked about with knives and how much the fan liked his vocals and both the interviewer and joe smiled REALLY big!!!!

sadly he doesn't like singing that much cause he doesn't like his voice. also he says fall out boy has a really good singer already. but he won't rule out doing some solo venture and recording super distorted vocals someday

re: what he wants to be remembered for the most - "having a sick bod, man."

"no, genuinely, i want my children to remember me as a good father. that's like the truth. and for having a sick bod."

he really doesn't hold any grudges about the hazing he got in the early days of touring because it was an initiation ritual and it weathered him quickly to touring life. he doesn't think people could get away with it now though.

"if you're gonna punch somebody though, do it when they're not looking"

re: favorite song to play live - "i don't care" because it "Just Rocks." and it's really fun!

his bluetooth in his car started playing "of all the gin joints in the world" and he texted patrick about how good of a song it was and how it'd be nice to play it live again

"as the kids maybe used to say, it SLAPS." brief discussion regarding the difference between a bop and a slap.

currently most of his musical ambitions lie in whatever fall out boy will do next

he tried scoring and composing for commercials and the like and he found that he really does not like it that much

he apologizes for not getting a haircut before the livestream. "this is just how i am, sloppy and unpresentable." (note: he was doing this livestream after a 13-hour flight from rock in rio in brazil)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey lovelies! So ya’ll remember that Blue Tears idea I had a while ago?

Welp, it’s done :)

Enjoy the angst! <33

...............

“Fly away, you’re free...”

“..Pidge..?” Confused at the command given to them, Blue’s Pidgeot stared at the shattered remains of their pokeball, before staring back at their master. 

He wasn’t even looking at them, but rather at the ground, messy brown bangs obscuring most of his face.

They didn’t fully understand what he meant by that.

After all they’ve been through together, this is what he does? Release them back into the wild...just like that?

Although Pidgeot wasn’t too familiar with this place, they recognized it as the entrance to Kanto’s tallest mountain. And this is where all of the extremely dangerous Pokémon and weather conditions resided.

That being said, why did he want them to leave? They didn’t see any of their friends’ pokeballs on him, so without them he’d be in grave peril.

Yet he didn’t seem to care as he sighed in irritation, annoyed that they were refusing to listen to him. “You’re free to live your own life again. I’m not your trainer anymore. Just go.”

The Bird Pokémon was extremely taken aback by his behavior, but then again...he hasn’t been the same ever since he lost his champion title--and other things he cared about, such as his Raticate.

Although they all knew it was an accident, Pidgeot thought that grief would make Blue even stronger. Even after losing to Red for the final time, they never stopped supporting him and vowed to train harder.

Maybe he finally reached his limit, unwilling to go on.

Yet when they shook their head in protest, he snapped. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be!! GO!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!” He yelled, kicking the pieces of the pokeball into the dirt, causing Pidgeot to flinch.

However during his fit, the bag accidentally slipped off his shoulder. As it tumbled to the ground they noticed something shiny and silver sticking out of the pouch:

Something sharp.

But they didn’t get a good chance to really see what it was as Blue scrambled to pick up his bag, sealing it shut with the item tucked back inside. He looked at his companion again, with exhaustion in his eyes. “...I’m sorry, I just...I need to face him alone. So please go and forget about me...goodbye.”

Those words devastated Pidgeot to the core, especially when he pleaded for them to “forget” about him.

How could they possibly do that?

What did he intend to do with that sharp shiny thing?

They had a bad feeling in their gut, and so they flapped their wings and flew off the mountain. Not out of obedience, but rather in a frantic pursuit to find the one person that could certainly help him and Red.

They can’t beg him to come back home.

But they knew exactly who could.

.........

“[Y/n], I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to climb Mount Silver. The boys are probably fine-”

“Professor, I’ve looked all over town for them.” You huffed as you mounted your Rapidash outside of the Pokémon Lab, frowning down at Oak. “They’re my friends. I know Red likes going off on his own, but I know damn well Blue wouldn’t just disappear without telling me.”

At the mention of his grandson’s name, he fell quiet. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, which only made your blood boil even more.

You remembered fiercely defending Blue after Oak expressed great disappointment over his “failure” to keep his championship title for even a day before losing to Red. 

Heck, even the silent trainer felt guilty seeing his rival getting chewed out. He nearly forgot that he still needed to go inside the Hall of Fame.

It made you wonder if that contributed to his desire to go into exile.

“Does he only matter to you when he’s training Pokémon or researching alongside you?”

“Wha..o-of course not!” The professor protested, frowning at your accusations. “He matters to me more than you know. I just..thought my words would give him the push to do better. Maybe I could have worded them differently, but-”

“You knew he was struggling with losing his Raticate. I would’ve thrown in the towel if any of my Pokémon died like that, but Blue didn’t because he’s not a quitter. But when he needed your support the most...you just told him his best wasn’t enough. Imagine how he feels right now...”

Shaking your head, you scratched Rapidash’s ears gently. She could understand your frustration as she snorted in agreement.

Oak knew there was some truth to your words. At the time, he didn’t even think about the fact that Blue cared so much for his Pokémon..not treating them like tools as he previously assumed.

But as he was about to give you another poor excuse for his harsh words, both of you heard a familiar bird cry and looked up, seeing a Pidgeot land in front of you.

At first you were confused, wondering why this one decided to randomly show up and greet you specifically.

Then...it clicked in your mind.

“Oh! You’re..Blue’s Pidgeot, right?”

“Pidge! Geot!!” They nodded frantically, using a wing to gesture up to Mt. Silver.

While you weren’t well-versed in Poke language, you knew that if they were here all alone...then Blue must’ve gotten trapped up there in the mountains.

What if Red was, too?

“Okay, okay..I’ll follow you up there.” You glanced back at Oak apologetically. “Sorry, chief. I hate going against your advice, but my friends are stuck up there. I have to go help them. My Pokémon are strong enough.”

“Alright, but do be careful.” He nodded in understanding, now looking gravely worried. “The weather up there can be unpredictable, too. Make sure you don’t get stuck up there yourself.”

“I promise I’ll get us all back home. Now let’s go, girl!" You shouted to Rapidash, who neighed and galloped after Blue’s Pidgeot, heading towards the nearest slope that will lead you up Mt. Silver the quickest.

This was officially a race against time. You had no idea if those two got cornered by extremely aggressive Pokémon or were simply lost in one of the caves...all you could do was pray that you weren’t too late.

Eventually, the three of you arrived at the cavern’s entrance, with Rapidash’s flames keeping you and Pidgeot warm as you went inside. ‘Thank Arceus I bundled up for this trip beforehand...’

You tried to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t provoke any of the wild Pokémon that might be clinging to the walls or hiding underground.

Honestly, you didn’t know where this path would lead to. But considering the footprints on the ground were still somewhat fresh, you knew one of the boys couldn’t have gone too far.

‘The only question now is how far could he have-’

“THIS IS FOR EVERYTHING!!!”

The sudden loud scream of anger startled you, especially when you recognized Blue’s voice. In panic and confusion, you bolted further into the cave, winding up in a chamber where...

You stumbled upon a rather horrifying scene:

Blue furiously attacking Red. Though not with any Pokémon moves..

But a gleaming bloodstained knife. 

The silent trainer tried in vain to defend himself, but his arms got slashed up as blood dripped onto the ground beneath him. And eventually he was shoved down, a pained grunt leaving him.

You couldn’t believe this is where Red’s been after all this time. You would’ve been overjoyed to see him....under completely different circumstances.

His rival stood over him, purple sweater splattered in red as he looked down at him, grinning like a manic. Red’s eyes filled with tears, trying to shuffle towards his bag where his Pokémon were safely nestled inside. He couldn’t let any of them get into danger...even if they were powerful enough to overwhelm Blue.

“..p-please..don’t hurt them...” He managed to rasp, voice quivering in terror.

“...oh, so now you can talk, huh?! And that’s all you gotta say?!” Tilting his head, Blue’s smile only grew as he laughed hysterically. “You think you could just hide away up here?!! YOU THINK YOU COULD JUST WALK AWAY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?!!” He screamed. "You took everything from me, “Champion”..so now I’m gonna-”

“BLUE!!!”

Shocked by your unexpected arrival, he spun around with wide eyes to see you jumping off Rapidash. Then he noticed his Pidgeot by your side, scowling deeply at the bird for ratting him out like this. “P-Pidgeot..you brought them here?”

“Of course they did. I thought you guys were hurt, but...but this is insane. What do you think you’re doing?!”

Obviously, you were mortified that he planned to outright kill Red in some sickening act of “revenge”, but you remembered that you had to remain calm lest he did anything rash...to either you, Red, or himself.

After recalling Rapidash for her own safety, you took a few steps forward, trying to get to Red. And you immediately stopped as Blue held the blade against his own neck. Tears fully streamed down his face now, teeth gritted to bite back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“Hey, hey, hey...it’s okay, Blue.” You put your hands up, showing him you mean no harm. “You’re gonna be okay. Just please put the knife down. I know you’re in pain, but this isn’t going to make things better-”

“I-I didn’t want you to come here, [y/n]..” He sniffled. “You couldn’t just stay away. Now I have to kill you, too!!” Another hysterical laugh left his lips. “How funny...w-we grew up together, and now we’re all gonna die together and nobody will know where we are!!!”

“That’s not true.” You tried to reassure him. “Nobody has to die. We can all go home together. We can find another way to resolve this..to help you through your grief. I know you think Red deserves this...” For a brief moment, your gaze went to the other trainer’s. He was struggling to cover his wounds, barely breathing. “..but he doesn’t. He never meant to-”

“Why...Why are you defending this coward?! After all he did..h-he just runs away and thinks I’d just forgive and forget?!!”

“..n-no, Blue..”

Tensing, the brunette glanced back at Red, scowling. “Shut up, coward.” Then he looked to you again. “Tell me, [y/n]..who would you rather leave this mountain with? Me or him?”

His question had you in disbelief. How could you possibly choose?

You shook your head. “You know I can’t pick-”

“LIAR!! I KNOW IT WOULD BE HIM!! BECAUSE IT’S ALWAYS HIM!!” He snapped angrily, pointing his weapon at you as that maniacal grin from before displayed itself for you to see. “If you wanna “help me” so badly...then let’s make this quick.”

“Wha-!!”

All of the sudden, Blue yelled as he charged at you, swinging the knife--only for the blade to miss you by mere inches. Pidgeot panicked and used Gust to push him away from you, flapping their wings quickly so that you had time to get to the wounded Red.

“[Y/n]...please run..” He pleaded as you kneeled beside him. But you ignored him, instead calling out Chansey. At first she was stunned upon seeing the extent of his injuries, though at your request she began using Heal Pulse to aid him.

She needed to be absolutely focused on this task, so when you heard the wind stop, you got up to shield the pair from Blue. He was just staring you down furiously.

The murderous glint in his eyes barely made him seem human anymore..it was both tragic and horrific to see him reduced to this...to resort to killing over an accident, plus other things that his rival couldn’t have possibly expected to push him to this point.

It was like some supernatural force had taken ahold of his grief, driving it to the extreme.

Yet you firmly stood your ground. “So what now? You’re just gonna kill my Chansey, too? After all she’s done to heal you and your Pokémon?! Don’t you remember when she tried saving your Raticate?”

“”Trying” isn’t the same as actually saving, idiot!!” He snarled. “If you had any brains left, you know I can’t leave witnesses-”

However, he was interrupted as a pokeball attached to your belt suddenly popped open on its own, sending out..

Your Shiny Raticate.

“Grrrrrat!!!” They bared their fangs, glaring at the crazed trainer who dared to harm you.

Blue stared at them for a moment, and the back to you--who was just as surprised that they emerged without you calling for them. And he smiled, laughing quietly. “Y-Yours evolved?”

“I meant to tell you..but after what happened, it didn’t seem like the best time.” You told him apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“...well..it doesn’t matter anymore.” He flicked the blade towards them. “They’ll be seeing my Raticate very soon!”

And with that, he charged blindly at your Pokémon, wanting to just land a single hit on them.

“Rat, dodge and use a light Quick Attack!!” You ordered.

The Shiny Raticate nodded and evaded the knife’s swipe, using that move you commanded to leave a scratch mark on his face. As Blue shouted in pain, he dropped the knife, blood trickling down his cheek. Once they grabbed the knife’s handle in their mouth, they carefully rushed back to your side, leaving it at your feet.

“Good job!” Smiling, you kneeled down to hug them, before pushing the knife behind you so Blue couldn’t get to it.

Speaking of whom, you looked up to see him collapse to his knees, his breathing shaky. With a trembling hand, he grabbed a nearby rock and clumsily threw it at the Shiny Raticate in a poor attempt to hurt them. But they huffed and climbed onto your shoulder, as you gazed at him in sadness.

“Blue, that’s enough. You’ve lost.”

“...th-that’s the problem, I always lose,” he began to sob, the crushing weight of his actions beginning to push down on him. “It’s not fair! Why do you get to be with your Pokemon..a-and I can’t?"

Through his tears, he sniffled as he noticed Chansey helping Red sit up, most of his wounds reduced to small scratches. “You think I-I wanted to hurt either of you?!! I just...I just wanted my life back...but I have nothing now. Not even that stupid knife...” Then he buried his face into his hands. “I-I can’t keep living like this!”

Your heart ached to hear his muffled sobbing, but it seems that bringing out your Shiny Raticate finally got through to him. 

Maybe it’s because his and yours were best buddies as Rattatas. Back then, you didn’t know why yours had such a strange “mutation”, but just like Blue..you loved your companion unconditionally.

For a moment you looked at each other, before going over to comfort him. You kneeled down and hugged him, feeling him cling to you and cry like a little kid. The Shiny Raticate nuzzled the side of his head, frowning as they also understood his grief.

“I-I’m so sorry...”

“It’s alright.” You reassured him softly. “Let’s just go home, okay? Before we all freeze to death up here.”

Nodding, he quieted down as you let him go, helping him stand up. Red managed to get up with Chansey’s assistance, and you smiled at the pair. ‘Thank Arceus I got here just in time.’

You called out the rest of your Pokémon to help make the long journey back home and to the hospital. The three of you vowed to tell them that you just got attacked by wild Pokemon...nobody had to know what really happened up on Mt. Silver.

And as for Blue’s knife..it remained in the chamber, buried deep within the snow.

Never to be found again.

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, and info under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Written By: Valerie Simpson & Nickolas Ashford

Artist: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

Released: 1967

“Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” marked the first collaboration between soul artists Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell in terms of releases. It was the first single from their debut album United where it also appeared as the opening track on the record. Although they kept their relationship as professional as could be, the two were practically inseparable with most describing them as “brother and sister.” At Terrell’s funeral after her tragic death at the mere age of 24, her mother barred everyone at Motown from attending except Gaye (who also delivered the eulogy) as she felt he was her only friend there. Perhaps there really was no mountain, valley or river that could ever come between them. The song was listed by writers of the UK publication NME as one of the Top 150 Singles of All Time, and the song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999. The song would go on to be covered by dozens of artists, including Diana Ross, The Supremes and The Temptations, as well as the songwriters Ashford & Simpson among others.

[Verse 1] Listen, baby Ain't no mountain high Ain't no valley low Ain't no river wide enough, baby If you need me, call me No matter where you are No matter how far Don't worry, baby Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry You don't have to worry 'Cause, baby, there [Chorus] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, babe [Verse 2] Remember the day I set you free I told you you could always count on me, darling From that day on, I made a vow I'll be there when you want me, someway, somehow Oh, baby, there [Chorus] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, babe [Bridge] Oh no, darling No wind, no rain Or winter's cold Can stop me, baby (No, no, baby) 'Cause you are my goal If you're ever in trouble I'll be there on the double Just send for me, oh, baby, ha [Verse 3] My love is alive (Woo) Way down in my heart Although we are miles apart If you ever need a helping hand I'll be there on the double Just as fast as I can Don't you know that there [Chorus] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, baby Don't you know that there Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough

Accidentally in Love

Written By: Adam Duritz, Dan Vickrey, David Bryson, David Immergluck & Matthew Malley

Artist: Counting Crows

Released: 2004

“I was really struggling with it. I generally don’t write songs on demand, and I almost got to the point where I thought I wasn’t going to do it. They just told me that the song had to be uplifting. They actually said, ‘Don’t write a song about Shrek. Write a song that’s about you.’ The funny thing is, the song ended up reflecting a lot of what was going on in my life at the time: falling in love with someone you’re not supposed to fall in love with because it’s inconvenient. My songs for Counting Crows are mature and generally don’t get a chance to reach kids. To be part of something like that is pretty cool.” – Adam Duritz via Billboard

[Verse 1] So, she said, "What's the problem, baby?" What's the problem? I don't know Well, maybe I'm in love (Love) Think about it Every time I think about it Can't stop thinking 'bout it How much longer will it take to cure this? Just to cure it, 'cause I can't ignore it if it's love (Love) Makes me wanna turn around and face me But I don't know nothin' 'bout love, uh [Chorus] Come on, come on Turn a little faster Come on, come on The world will follow after Come on, come on Because everybody's after love [Verse 2] So I said, I'm a snowball runnin' Runnin' down into the spring that's comin' All this love meltin' under blue skies Belting out sunlight, shimmering love Well, baby, I surrender To this strawberry ice cream Never-ever-ender All this love Well, I didn't mean to do it But there's no escaping your love, oh [Bridge] These lines of lightnin' mean we're never alone Never alone No, no [Chorus] Come on, come on Move a little closer Come on, come on I wanna hear you whisper Come on, come on Settle down inside my love, ohh Come on, come on Jump a little higher Come on, come on If you feel a little lighter Come on, come on We were once upon a time in love [Post-Chorus] We're accidentally in love, accidentally in love Accidentally in love, accidentally in love Accidentally in love, accidentally in love Accidentally in love, accidentally in love Accidentally, I'm in love, I'm in love [Refrain] I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love Accidentally, I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love Accidentally [Chorus] Come on, come on (Come on) Spin a little tighter Come on, come on (Come on) And the world's a little brighter Come on, come on (Come on) Just get yourself inside her love I'm in love