Kimpossibly - Gracie - Tumblr Blog

more house md twitter shenanigans

add me to your djats taglist if you have one pls <3

hi there! what a lovely introduction to a new development on my page :)

i just stopped being lazy and created a taglist form, a.k.a. a place where you can say exactly what you'd like to be tagged in so that i don't have to scramble around looking for everyone's username.

it takes only a minute or two (probably less) to fill out, and it's super helpful! it'll ensure that you'll be tagged in exactly what you want to see.

i'll put the link in my pinned post as well so anyone on my page and find it. thank you!

Google Docs

taglist form <3

hello! fill out this form so i know which types of posts you would like to be tagged in!

Hi, are you still writting the chain series? cuz i’m still waiting for the part 3 hehe 🥹 and anw i love your works sm!!

HI HI yes i am still working on it! i’m so sorry it has taken literally forever and it’s still not finished but i’ve been having a lot of school work as well as struggling with having little to no motivation :( but the show i’m directing is almost over and school is almost out with means OPEN SCHEDULE!! i promise it will happen guys. i promise. the ending is…it’s a lot. i won’t leave you guys hanging 😊

UM I HIT 700 FOLLOWERS AND I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE???????? HELLO??????

haunted (k. sirko)

summary: after watching a horror movie, y/n starts to believe that the rumors that her room is haunted are true. pairing: karen sirko x fem!reader warnings: swearing, mentions of all things horror movie-related (brief mention of gore and paranormal activity) word count: 1.4k

𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒. Since she joined the band, it's been no secret that whenever there's a new scary movie coming out, she's the first to buy tickets and the first to get in line at the theater. Most of the time she'll go alone―the thrill of seeing a scary movie by herself is something that she actually enjoys (adrenaline junkie is how Eddie chose to put it)―but that morning she walked into the kitchen during breakfast and turned to the full table to ask, "Anyone want to see Dance of Death tonight?"

Everyone went silent, sharing glances. Karen frowned. "No one? Really?"

"Sorry honey, I've got a hot date tonight. Enjoy your demented movie, though," Warren said, getting up to put his cereal bowl in the sink.

"I agreed to watch Julia while Billy and Camila are out on their date," Graham said. Eddie offered no excuse, but it was a well-known fact that horror movies are not his thing. The last time he sat through one he ended up staying awake for almost two nights straight, thinking that the second he closed his eyes some malevolent spirit was going to possess him. It was hilarious.

"I'll go," Y/n said, shrugging. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Would you look at that," Karen replied with a smile, "Y/n's got the biggest balls of anyone in this room."

The boys rolled their eyes and scoffed at her comment as Y/n grinned smugly, finishing her bowl of cereal with a flourish.

Later that day, Y/n dressed for the movie in her tiny bedroom, settling on jeans and a dark sparkly shirt that Camila had helped her pick out. As she tied her hair into loose braids, there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

The door opened and Eddie stood in the doorway, looking amused. "You getting ready for the movie?"

"Yep," Y/n replied, refusing to look his way.

Eddie glanced around him before walking in and mocking her. "I'll go to the movies with you, Karen. Can you hold my hand if I get too scared? You're way too obvious."

Y/n threw a hairbrush at him. "Will you shut up? I don't...it's not like that any more, okay? And besides, Graham's been eye-fucking her for months. I figured I'd give him a chance."

"Give him a chance, okay, sure."

Y/n ignored him, swiping another coat of mascara onto her lashes.

"For the record, I think this is very brave of you."

"It's a horror movie, not sky diving," Y/n replied, putting the tube down and heading out the door.

"Okay, just remember that your room is that one that's haunted!" Eddie shouted down the hall at her, making her roll her eyes.

Karen was already in the living room, sitting on the couch, waiting to go. She looked up when Y/n walked in. "Don't you look pretty?" she said in her casual Karen way. Y/n tried her best to ignore how i made her heart beat faster. "Come on. Let's go get scared out of our minds."

Y/n hadn't seen enough horror movies in her life to know whether she liked them or not. Sure, she'd seen bits and pieces of the ones that played on the television when she was younger, but she'd never quite sat down to watch one. Dance of Death was not at all what she was expecting.

She spent half the movie curled into a ball in her seat, nervously passing back and forth the bottle of tequila that Karen had snuck in. The more buzzed she got, the more prone she was to scream at jumpscares. The more buzzed Karen got, the louder she'd laugh at Y/n's reactions.

When the movie was done, they tossed the empty bottle in the trash and left the theater, heading back in the direction of the house. Karen sighed as they stepped into the cool night air like she hadn't a care in the world. Y/n could still feel a light sheen of cold sweat on the back of her neck, not to mention that her hands were sore from gripping the seat.

Karen turned back to look at her, her lips parting in surprise. "Come on, it wasn't that bad!"

Y/n looked at her like she was crazy (which at that point she thought she was). "The ghost picked the guy up and threw him through the window. And then he set the house on fire."

"I've seen worse."

Y/n just frowned at her, then turned and walked away. Karen giggled and raced to catch up with her, hanging onto Y/n's shoulder and interlacing their fingers. "I'm sorryyyyy," she apologized, "I should've warned you."

Y/n said nothing.

"Y/n," Karen said, getting no response. "Okay, fine. How can I make it up to you?"

Y/n glanced at Karen's hopeful face leaning on her shoulder and a small smile broke through the grimace. Karen smiled wider and tugged on her hand. "Come on, what?"

"Next time, I'm picking the movie. And it'll be a comedy. Or a romance. Or a romantic comedy." Y/n said, unable to wipe the smile off her face.

Karen nodded. "Done. Anything else?"

Y/n paused, thinking. "Never tell anyone that I nearly threw up in that theater."

Karen just laughed, swinging their interlaced fingers. "Blame it on the booze, babe. Blame it on the booze."

The house was quiet when they returned. Warren had returned from his date and was lounging on the couch, a beer in his hand. "How was the movie?" he asked when they walked in.

"Great!" Y/n answered, stumbling over her feet. "Not scary. At all."

She and Karen glanced at each other and burst into laughter, shoving each other as they made their way up the stairs. "Goodniiiiiiiiight!" Karen sang.

"Goodnight, lovebirds!" Warren shouted back, then laughed to himself. "They're so shitfaced."

When they made it up the stairs, Y/n paused in the middle of the hallway, her face falling. "Karen," she said, voice suddenly serious, "my room is haunted."

Karen laughed in response. 'What, seriously?"

"Yes. Remember the previous owners said the thing about the lights flickering and the door opening by itself?"

"Okay, well have you ever seen it do that?"

Y/n paused. Thought. "...No."

"Then it's not haunted. Problem solved!" Karen declared, then hopped away to her room. Y/n was still stuck frozen in the hallway, dreading the half dozen steps leading to her own bedroom.

She got ready for bed, putting on an oversized shirt and shorts, trying not to think about the possibility of an evil spirit coexisting in the same place she slept. God, she felt just like Eddie probably had. It almost made her feel guilty for bullying him mercilessly.

And then, finally, she laid down in bed, shutting off the lights and staring up at the ceiling above her. A few moments passed in silence. Okay, this isn't bad.

And then the door creaked. Y/n sat up, eyes wide, heart racing. She heard the click of the bolt on the door sliding out of place, and then, slowly, the door began to creak open.

"Nope, nope, nope, fucking no goddamn way," Y/n muttered as she slid out of bed, not giving herself time to be afraid as she grabbed her blanket and left the room, padding softly across the hallway to Karen's

Y/n slowly pushed open her door, casting a beam of light onto the floor. Karen sat up, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"It's haunted. It's so, so haunted," Y/n said in disappointment.

Karen just smiled slightly, and then held out her arms to Y/n. "Come here, honey."

Y/n hurried forward at the invitation, throwing the blanket over and crawling under the covers. Karen didn't waste a second before wrapping her arms around Y/n pulling her close. If Y/n hadn't been so drunk, she might've been on the verge of losing her mind. But, again, she was very drunk. So she just held onto Karen, letting herself believe that she'd protect her from whatever ghost was haunting this house.

And Karen held her back, silently vowing that she would.

After a while, Y/n muttered, "I don't think I like horror movies."

Karen laughed quietly, pulling away and brushing a strand of hair out of Y/n's face gently. "I know, Y/n. I know."

I love love love The Chain so so much!!! I cannot wait for more!!! Eddie Roundtree deserves all the love in the world lol

Working on part four right now!! I'll hopefully get it out later today, so stay tuned...

April Fool’s Day is in a few days, and I just wanted to make this clear. This blog is safe, and I can promise you no screamers, nothing emotionally abusive, no fake posts, and nothing to intentionally trigger dissociation. You are safe here.

HAPPY DJAT6 FINALE DAY!!!!! felt good enough to start part four of The Chain earlier today—haven’t watched the finale yet because i need to mentally prepare 😭🙏

LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!

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

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

so i think i’m about to hit 400 followers before my 300 followers celebration is even over…what the flippety flapping FUCK I LOVE YOU GUYS

can i get who you’d ship me with from daisy jones and the six or tlou? idk what all to tell you but i love horror movies, reading and i can sorta skateboard. my favorite animal are frogs & penguins!! and last thing i love playing boardgames/card games so much

Hihihihihihihihiiiiiiiiiiiiii how are you <3

Let me tell you...most of the time I have to think a little about these, but this one I knew on the spot.

I'm going to ship you with...

Karen Sirko !

First of all, Karen would looooooooove to watch horror movies with you. Love it. I'm convinced it's her favorite movie genre ― the gorier, the better. I also feel like she'd want to learn to skateboard, and even if you're not great at it she'd still have a lot of fun figuring it would with you. And yeah, she would love to play board games and card games with you ― gin rummy is her favorite. Her ideal date would be staying in and watching a horror movie together <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cast your mutuals as colors?

oh my god YES

( my beloved mutuals as colors )

red ― @kolsmikaelson: with the whole horror movie theme you have, i think you can guess why this one is what it is :) your whole account just reminds me of a movie theater that exclusively shows 80s slasher movies, so i think red fits it the best!

orange ― @fxllfaiiry: this one may come as a bit of a shock, but here me out: fire orange. the type of orange that only a slowly burning fire can achieve. it's warm and comforting but can be dangerous if you get too close. your blog is sooooo nice and amazing, and watching fire do its thing is nice and amazing!! very much an orange space.

yellow ― @magicchai: you are one of the sweetest people EVER. your account is so gorgeous and sweet and wholesome and you were so kind to me when i asked if i could take inspiration from you blog layout. one hundred percent a yellow typa blog <3

green ― @bunchesofoats: maybe it's the vibe, maybe it's the pfp, who knows? but your blog is DEFINITELY green to me. i remember first following you for rowan laslow content and he is definitely a green character, so there's that association. but also your blog just gives me the same vibes as spring, which is the greenest of all the seasons.

blue ― @mgcldydrms: the first time i interacted with you, i thought you were a different account with the same pfp and you had just changed usernames. i still feel sort of bad about it HAHA but you were so sweet and nice about it! your vibe is definitely blue based on how chill and sweet you are. also i associate your blog with the ocean for some reason, so blue is the obvious choice :)

purple ― @daveys-sister: your blog just SCREAMS purple to me. and idk if it's because of the fact that davey jacobs as a character screams purple to me (because bi rights, duh) but your account is one hundred percent purple. it's cool and badass but still welcoming and awesome????? ten out of ten, especially because purple is my favorite color :)

𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑 -> 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

( gifs by @auroraworldtour )

I found out this morning that not only had I hit 300 followers, but I had gained thirty of those overnight. I'm now at 331, and I just need to say that I am so so so freaking grateful for all of you. This little blog was meant to be just a little place I could go when I wanted to be creative and get my words and stories down somewhere. And the fact that you all liked them so much that you decided to join me on this journey means the absolute world to me. And I figured that, with all this newfound fame...I might as well take this show on the road :)

closes: march 26

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

✧.* 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔𝘾𝙊𝙈𝘽 ― give me a character + a trope and i'll write you a blurb! 𝙍𝙀𝙂𝙍𝙀𝙏 𝙈𝙀 ― give me a character + a song and i'll write you a blurb! 𝘼𝙐𝙍𝙊𝙍𝘼 ― send me a concept + a character and i'll write you some headcanons!

✧.* 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍 ― (non-anonymous asks only) give me a description of yourself + a fandom or two that i write for and i'll ship you with a character! 𝙉𝙊 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎 ― a classic game of bed, wed, behead (also known as fmk). give me three characters + i'll decide which to bed, wed, or behead! 𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝙉 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙎 ― a game of cast your mutuals: send me a fandom and i'll cast my mutuals as some characters from it!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 (notes)

: ̗̀➛ please read through my list of characters + fandoms i'll write for before making a request!

: ̗̀➛ that said, my current favorite characters to write for currently are eddie roundtree, peeta mellark, graham dunne, karen sirko, and ellie williams, so requests involving them may get done sooner than others simply because i have more motivation to write for them!

: ̗̀➛ i will take all asks in between now and the deadline, but please give me some times with the requests!

: ̗̀➛ be kind. don't demand anything because i likely won't fill your request. this is a safe, happy space!

tagging some of my beloved mutuals and friends: @fxllfaiiry @magicchai @itsametaphorbriansblog @daveys-sister @mgcldydrms @bunchesofoats @kolsmikaelson @moonlitmeeks @hermywolf @lcversrockk @greengarsstuff @ughgclden

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑 ― get your tickets now!

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

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

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

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

SEVENEIGHTNINE (1975-1976)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he spoke first. "Hi."

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

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

"Um―"

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

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

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

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

"Then talk to him about it."

"I can't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

"Thanks."

"You asked."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EDDIE: Y/n was thrown into the mix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He said nothing, continuing to stare at the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

―

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

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

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

JONAH: No thoughts as to a career?

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

[This marks the end of the transcript.]

―

WARREN: The girl is a fucking fish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Back at the house. Asleep."

"I want Eddie. Get him here."

"You'll see him in the morning."

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

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

"Just get in the goddamn car."

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No!"

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daisy became her favorite pastime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three thoughts emerged as Daisy talked.

One: I am not in love with Eddie Roundtree.

Two: I'm in love with Eddie Roundtee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We have thin walls."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karen shrugged. "Depends on the person."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, Graham, it's there."

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

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

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

"Graham. Move your hand up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAG LIST: @itsametaphorbriansblog @lcversrockk @yipyipmorals @chemicaldeathwish @greengarsstuff @karenfockingsirko @lilyhw1 @simmo04 @unsaiddaisy @simpswhore

Fill out the taglist form in my pinned post if you'd like to be tagged in the last part!

The Eddie Roundtree series is a masterpiece! I hope to read the next part soon 😻

ahhhh thank you so much!! working on it right now!

i'll hopefully release part three later today!

Could you please tag me in the chain? Love it so far😄

yep yep!! adding you right now :)

299 AHHHHHHHHHHHH

i’m so close to 300 followers AHHHHH I LOVE YOU GUYS

can you please tag me in the chain<3?

yep! just added you to part three 🫡🫡🫡

i’m so close to 300 followers AHHHHH I LOVE YOU GUYS

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART TWO: knocks

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, s*xual h*rassment, men being awful, mention of divorced parents, drinking, drugs (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't expect to have an update ready this quick, but here you go! Enjoy the product of sleep deprivation and sun sickness! Love youuuuuu &lt;3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CAMILA: Toe-curling erotica.

EDDIE: Written by your mother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They treat you like shit."

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

Y/n nodded. "The Dunne Brothers."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n frowned. "Like what?"

"The Six," she clarified.

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

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

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

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

And then, instantly, things went back to normal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you writing about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too," Karen said.

Billy let out a surprised chuckle. "Yeah?"

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

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

They all paused, looking to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And adapt they did.

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

And then all hell would break loose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled to himself and knocked back twice.

TAG LIST: @itsametaphorbriansblog

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

OH MY GOD. “THE CHAIN”. IT WAS SO GOOD AND ITS ONLY THE FIRST PART?????!! IM REALLY EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONES!!!!!! also your writing is so sweet and so nice and so Good. i was giggling the whole time i already love them i need more

AHHHHH THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART TO THE MOON AND BACK!!!!!!

I just finished reading Daisy Jones & The Six for the second time in like…six days?? I read The Atlas Six in between but I knew DJ required more than one read. But honestly, this time around all I could think about was The Chain—how it would fit into the whole thing, what bits I could take from the book and whatnot. I’m getting really excited about the upcoming chapters and I’m so so glad that you are too :)

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: Drummers' Curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

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

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

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

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."