#(actually thank you to everyone who sent nice asks checking up on me)

[seijorhi]

Hey Rhi how are you? We miss you 🥺🫶 btw it’s okay if the spooktober fic isn’t ready yet if that’s why you haven’t been posting anything recently we still love hearing from you <33 if that’s not the reason and you’ve just been busy that’s fine too obviously but still hope you’re doing well :)

bby i am sorry for the radio silence!! i was sick for a few weeks there and then life just kinda got busy and :)))))

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

You Need Only Ask [professor!Marcus Pike x librarian!reader]

Read on Ao3

Pairing: History of Art professor Marcus Pike x art library reader/you (cishet female)

Tags/Warnings: Kind of pining idiots but only one is pining, everyone is being professional but it's clear that Marcus is a pining idiot, implied coworkers to lovers.

Summary: Professor Marcus Pike is one of those cliché absent-minded professors - or so you think, but maybe there's another reason why this brilliant academic is acting a dumb fool around you?

Words: 3,534

A/N: This was inspired by an ask sent to me by @just-here-for-the-moment for a fic ask game thingy. Here's the original ask and my reply. I didn't write it exactly like that (main difference is my fic is set in modern times), but I hope y'all still like it!

”Good morning.”

Your customer service smile in place, you look over your shoulder.

”Morning, Professor. Just give me a second and I will be right with you.”

He hums, and you turn back to the bookcase where you were just about to finish re-shelving returns. Once done, you join Marcus Pike, Professor of Art History, at the desk. He’s tapping his fingers, almost impercievably, against the surface of the old solid wood desk, and you stifle a sigh. He didn’t have to wait that long.

”What can I do for you?” you ask politely. Professor Pike is never rude, but he is the typical professor type: absent-minded, a little awkward, his research always the number one priority.

“I looked for this book in the online catalog, but as I suspected, you don’t have it. It’s probably sold out, too.” He gives you a piece of paper before both his hands disappear into his pockets.

“Another inter-library loan, then?” you state, looking at the title. It’s in French, and you know immediately that your library doesn’t have it. Professor Pike is not the most computer-skilled person, so you usually double-check every book he asks for in the database, but this one you know you don’t have.

“Might have to go international for this one,” you tell him. “Canada och Europe. That’s coming out of your department’s budget, you know that.”

“I’ll make room,” he shrugs, looking towards the door, like he can’t wait to get back to the comfort of his own office. “And could you please give me more time with the last one you got for me? I need it for a bit longer.”

“I’ll contact the lending library,” you nod. “I’ll let you know.”

“Great. Thank you.”

The “Sure thing” has barely left your mouth before Pike is out the door, the sound of his steps against the stone floor quickly disappearing down the hall. You shake your head before sitting down to look up the book for him.

As you work, you once again wonder how people like Marcus Pike get jobs at all. Someone as introverted as that would never have a real shot at getting a library job, which requires people skills, patience, and the ability to stand in front of people. But when it comes to academia, it seems like all you need is credentials and a good research profile, and you’re hired. Unlike you, who had to fight tooth and nail for this position. You have Master’s degrees in art and library science, educational and language studies, job experience, and it was still almost impossible to get this job. People who have these jobs never seem to retire but just sit there, year after year, until they eventually sprout roots that fasten them to their chairs.

But you’re here now, since five years, and while Pike’s predecessor never showed his face in the library but sometimes sent you cryptical emails requests that took you half a day to decipher, it’s nice to see that the much younger professor actually frequents the university’s special arts library.

Finally locating Pike’s book in a university library in France, you quickly find the instructions for ILL’s, and send a loan request. After that, you apply for more time for Pike’s previous book, and by afternoon, you have confirmation for both books: one will be mailed out later during the day in Europe, the other has been renewed. You let Pike know through an email, before performing closing duties in the library. Your computer pings just as you’re about to turn it off, and you see that it’s a reply from Pike. Clicking it up, you see the very unlikely response:

>>Amazing, what a service. Just bill the department, I’ve got it covered. Thank you so much 😊 <<

Shaking your head in disbelief at the informal tone, you turn off the computer, clock out, and go home.

Professor Pike is back two days later, now asking for a book that’s available. When you tell him so, he clears his throat, gaze flickering away from you.

“Could you maybe show me where it is?”

“Sure.” You’re curt, because this isn’t the first time. It’s an easy enough book to find, and every item in the library is labeled, and the database even has an interactive feature where you can click on the item’s call number to open up a layout of the stacks, showing the correct shelf in red. It has freed you up a lot now that most patrons can easily find their literature themselves, but some people just want you to do everything for them.

“You know, Professor, you could maybe my start of term library tour useful,” you dare to tease him as you walk before him to the right case. “Most freshmen find it very helpful, and they can usually manage their own information retrieval after.”

“I think maybe a little touch-up course would do me good,” he replies, voice a little tight. “But I like personal service.”

You find the book, pull it out, and hand it to him.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you tell him easily. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He swallows visibly.

“No, thank you.”

He uses the self check-out this time, and leaves quickly without saying goodbye. You shake your head, and catch the eye of Mandy, a Master’s student who works on her thesis in the library almost every day.

“Strange fellow, that one, isn’t he?”

She gives you a peculiar look. “I guess so.”

One thing that you appreciate a lot about your job is the building itself. The campus was built in Collegiate Gothic style in the middle of the 19th century, and compared to the nearby city library with its white surfaces, glass walls, and modern design furniture, the much quieter arts library still seems more alive. The library houses more books than one would think when first seeing it, and it has the charming nooks and crannies that are so common for old houses.

You’re standing in one of those nooks one day; an alcove that houses folios, a cart of tall books parked next to the step stool that you’re standing on. You hear someone enter the library, shout out a “Hello!” as you usually do to let patrons know that you’re in the stacks, and receive a low answer. Mindful not to hurt your wrists, you pick up another folio from the cart, and put it back in its place.

The sound of footsteps stops at the desk, and you pick up the next book.

“Be right with you!”

The patron moves again, slowly walking towards the corner where you are, as if looking for you. You turn your head just as you see Professor Pike come around the corner of a bookcase.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” you nod, picking up the next book. “Almost done.”

“I got your email about the book from France. They sent it rather fast.”

“I was surprised, too,” you admit. There’s one book left, and you really should get down from the stool, move it, and get up again, but you’re lazy. You reach, getting up on your toes, just barely getting the book into place when you feel the stool slip from under you. You gasp, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head during the split second you’re in free fall, and then you land softly, not on the floor, but against a corduroy chest, strong arms holding you.

“Shit, that was close!”

You’re tongue-tied, wide-eyed with shock, heart in your throat and going a mile a minute to make up for the missed beats.

“Are you okay?”

You slowly start to realize that you’re in the arms of Marcus Pike, who caught you when you fell from the stool. And he’s still holding you.

“Yeah, I, yeah, fine, I’m good.” You babble, moving uncomfortably to let him know to let you down, which he does with the utmost care. Your legs are wobbly, and Pike keeps a hand on your waist to make sure you won’t fall.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you now giggle, embarrassed but simultaneously exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. “That wasn’t stupid at all, was it? I’ve been thinking about having that stool replaced, but I never got around to it, haha. I guess it takes an accident for me to get my thumb out of my a-, I mean, to get it done.”

Your cheeks are heating up, your hands are shaking as you grab the handles of the cart, kicking the accursed stool to the side.

“That was really scary, though,” Pike tells you in a low voice. “You could’ve really injured yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, thanks for catching me.” You bite your lower lip and force yourself to look at him. “I’m so embarrassed. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Just glad I was here,” he shrugs, slowly following you as you march to the desk. “Although one could argue that had I not been here, you wouldn’t have tried to restack that heavy book without moving your stool. Sorry if I stressed you.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him lightly. “I sometimes cut corners like that. It’s fine, no harm done.”

You park the cart in its spot behind the desk, and turn to the shelf of reserved books.

“Here’s your inter-library loan. Due date four weeks from now, if you need it for longer, you know the drill.”

“I do,” he replies quietly and accepts the book from you. Holding it in one hand, he carefully opens it with the other, and thoughtfully browses through it. You sit down, flustered and still a little shaky, hoping that he’ll leave so that you can nurse your wounded pride, and maybe have a drink of water.

“It’s about these eighteenth-century art frauds in Europe – “

“I know. I read the title,” you cut him off, more curt than you meant to. Pike closes the book and nervously fingers the paper slip in it.

“You read French?”

“I even speak it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “Of course you do.”

You stare at him, frowning as you try to understand what his deal is, and why he’s suddenly smiling like that. It’s never happened before.

And you’ve never noticed what a charming smile he has. It reveals a dimple in his right cheek that makes him look younger than he is – not that he’s old in any way, he must be around your age, somewhere between forty and fifty. The smile makes you even more shaky, and you can’t stop staring at him. He eventually notices, the smile dies down, and he lowers his eyes.

“Well, thanks,” he mumbles, turning around and walking away briskly, leaving you to stare after him, wondering what the hell happened.

Mandy comes in from her lunch break, waves a hello, then stops when she sees you.

“Is everything okay?”

You nod dismissively. “I’m fine, Mandy. I just… almost fell from a stool. But no harm done.”

She expresses her sympathies before going to the study area. You take a deep breath, and disappear into the back room for a glass of water.

There’s tittling in the stacks, but you don’t pay it any mind: it’s part of library life, especially on a campus filled with hormonal young adults. It’s not until your hear Professor Pike’s name mentioned that you stop writing on your keyboard, and strain to hear better.

“He’s the best lecturer here.”

“And he’s so fucking hot, don’t you think?”

“Cara! He’s a million years old!”

“No, he’s not, he’s like the youngest of the faculty, except for Langley, but she’s a woman.”

“Well, I’m bi, and she’s fine too.”

Shameless giggling ensues, and you have to stifle one as well.

“Wouldn’t mind doing some extra credit for Professor Pike…”

“That’s so tacky, Mindy.”

“Come on, like you haven’t thought about it.”

The girls appear from the stacks, carrying literature over to the self service check-out.

“I just think that his lectures are amazing. He can explain literally anything so that I get it. And he knows so much.”

You stare at your screen, but you’re listening to the students.

“He should lecture more, why doesn’t he have any classes?”

“Dug, because he’s a professor, he has other things to do.”

“I’d give him something to do…”

More giggling.

“I’m serious! I ended upw atching that Youtube lecture twice just because he’s so good!”

The girls borrow their books while talking, then nod good-bye to you as they leave. You nod back, then hit up Youtube, and type in Professor Marcus Pike.

You find a video of him giving a lecture on the history of art, and open it. And your jaw drops.

The man in the video is confident without being cocky, talkative, engaging, contact-seeking. He speaks clearly, even drops a couple of jokes, and he walks around the podium in the auditorium. If it wasn’t for that corduroy jacket with the leather patches at the shoulders, the one that you had enveloped around yourself last week, you wouldn’t have recognized the man.

You close the video and chew your lower lip. You always thought Pike was this nutty professor who didn’t know how to behave around people and preferred books to socializing. But the man in the video is nothing like that. So what is his problem when talking to you?

Navigating to Facebook, you search his name, finding him easily enough. He doesn’t seem to be very active, but his professional profile is listed.

His status is set to “single”, which surprises you, but you think no further of it. You click on to photos, finding only a few, most of them outdated.

“Good afternoon.”

You look up, startled at the familiar voice. Seeing Marcus Pike’s face, you close the browser window quickly.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, I was just… working.”

He clears his throat. “I’d like to return this.”

You accept the book from him, recognizing it as one of his previous ILL’s.

“Thank you.”

A couple of students come in, saying hello to both of you before disappearing into the stacks, phones in hand, library catalog probably open in their mobile browsers. Marcus looks after them, moving his weight from one foot to the other. You put the book to the side.

“Anything else I can do for you, Professor?”

He almost jumps at the sound of your voice.

“Um, no, thank you, I have to get back to work, grad student coming to see me, um, thanks, I’ll let your know if I need anything.”

He leaves the library, and you’re almost laughing. What the hell was that?

As soon as the students have found and borrowed their books, and you’re alone in the library with Mandy, she gets up and comes over to the desk. You smile your mild customer service smile at her, but she returns it with a wry grin.

“You know that he likes you right?”

You blink, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“Professor Pike. He likes you.”

You shake your head to show her that you have no idea what she’s talking about, and she laughs.

“Oh, come on! The way he stutters and stumbles when he’s here. And he talks about you all the time, every chance he gets.”

“He what?” Your voice goes up, and you clamp your mouth shut. Mandy nods.

“He always tells us to use the library, and ask you for help. The librarian there is really competent, we’re lucky to have such a professional at our service, that sort of thing.”

“Why do you think that means he likes me?” you ask, cheeks heating up. This is stupid, this girl is half your age, and you’re talking like both of you are in middle school.

“Because he’s super confident in class, in meetings, whenever he talks to anyone, except you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hello!” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Earth to librarian lady! He’s like a flustered cinnamon bun whenever he’s around you – “

“Cinnamon bun?” you interrupt her, incredulously.

“Cutie patootie in old folk speech,” Mandy smirks at you, and you scoff.

“I know what a cinnamon bun is.”

“Whatever. He comes here constantly, doesn’t he? I sit here most days, and no other faculty member visits as much. He’s here practically every day, asking you the simplest questions. He’s into you.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mandy,” you mumble, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Alright, if you say so,” she smirks. “But I know what I’d do if I were you.”

Later, when she leaves the library, wishing you a good weekend, you open up the browser window again, Pike smiling charmingly at you from his profile picture. You look at it for a long time before logging out, and getting up to reshelf returns.

Friday afternoon in the library makes for slow hours. It’s usually empty – even Mandy has left – and while it gives you the opportunity to prepare for next week, there are Fridays when you’d rather just close up, if you could, and go home early.

A quarter to four, when you’re impatiently tapping your foot for closing time, Marcus Pike shows up again. Mandy’s words echo in your head, making you nervous for the first time, but you manage to suppress that, instead turning on your professional persona.

“Back so soon?” you ask him lightly

“Yeah, I need a book.” He seems to understand himself how stupid that sounded.

“You’ve come to the right place.”

He tells you the title, and you look it up.

“It’s in, call number N5198-5299,” you inform him, then looking up at his hesitant expression. “It’s in the corner over there.”

“Um, could you show me? I’m not good at this.”

“Okay.” You get up and walk around the desk. “But it’s a class that you use a lot, Professor, you should be accustomed to it by now.”

“Marcus.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Marcus. I don’t much like titles anyway.”

“Uh-huh.”

You take him to the right stacks, walking in between the heavy cases. It’s a tight squeeze, this one, and the book is located further in. You pick it out, and turn around, only to find Marcus standing right behind you.

You’ve been in this situation before, many times even. Worst times were when you worked in the city library, and creeps would crowd you between the stacks, not trying anything but coming closer than necessary.

Your heart misses a beat, but you’re not uncomfortable. Instead, you smell something familiar and comforting, something besides old paper, leather covers, and ink. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Marcus’s cologne, the corduroy, his shampoo: earthy but fresh, a little like the forest after rain, but with an undertone of old leather armchair.

You wet your lips, and hold up the book he asked for.

“Your book.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t take it, so you lower your hand. He clears his throat, but this time, he doesn’t look away, but straight into your eyes.

“I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“There’s this classic movie festival this weekend, and I was wondering…”

“If I wanted to go with you?” you finish his sentence for him, as he takes too long for you to wait. He blinks, then smiles that sweet smile again.

“Exactly. Yes. Would you?”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” The smile seems to broaden even more.

“Sure. Tomorrow?”

“Perfect. I can pick you up, if you want to. At six?”

“Perfect,” you echo, now smiling widely yourself. He exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entirely time.

“Perfect.”

The desk phone rings, startling both of you. The book falls from your hand, and you look down at it, then up at Marcus.

“I need to get that.”

“Of course,” he nods. You make a little movement with your head.

“I need to get past you, Marcus?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry.”

He backs out from between the cases, letting you out as well. His cologne seems to rub off on your arm when you brush past him, hurrying to the desk. You answer the phone and try to focus on the person calling, take a couple of notes, and end the call just as Marcus comes walking to the desk, book in hand. You check it out for him, give him your number, and he smiles again as he thanks you. You follow him to the door so that you can close up after him.

“I’ll call,” he promises as he steps out. You nod, hand on the door handle.

“Looking forward to it.”

He raises the book as a farewell, then starts walking down the corridor. You’re about to close the door when you suddenly step out, calling his name.

“Marcus!”

He turns around immediately, and now that he’s standing with his back straight, instead of hunched over, you notice how tall and broad-shouldered he is.

“Yes?”

“For the record… you’re into me, right?”

He chuckles, his ears turning pink. “Yeah, I’m into you.”

“Just checking,” you grin. “See you tomorrow.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

Tag list 🏷️

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@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

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@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[thepixelelf]

genres/tags: body swapping/your name au; mystery; angst; minwon are roommates; reader is a small town [gender neutral] living in a lonely world. warnings: coarse language; major character death (non graphic/not shown). wc: 1.8k

love triangle au requests

[where and, more importantly, when] In the past week and a half, Wonwoo has slept better than he's ever slept in his life.

Actually, maybe "better" isn't the best descriptor for his sleep. Longer, certainly. Dreamless.

When he closes his eyes, he no longer dreams through yours. He no longer finds himself trapped in your tiny town, in your lonesome loft, in your dead-end job...in your body.

Wonwoo keeps telling himself he should be happy; relieved. What he was calling a curse a few weeks ago is finally over. He isn't waking up in an unfamiliar body every other day anymore. You're not messing with his life anymore, intentionally or not. Yes, he should be thankful that all that body-swapping nonsense is over.

Groggy, eyes drooping, Wonwoo watches coffee drip from the Keurig into his whale shark-shaped mug. You'd bought that mug with his money, at the aquarium you went to in his body, since your small town doesn't have places like that. (And you've never left.)

((In your own body, anyway.))

The TV across the apartment plays the general news channel, but Wonwoo stopped paying attention at some point.

His phone lies face up on the counter in front of the coffeemaker, the daily journal app you used to keep him up to date on your shenanigans in his body open. If it weren't for your notes — and the kitschy mug in front of him — he'd almost believe that all the times he woke up and spent the day in your body were dreams.

Wednesday 10:38PM Obviously I didn't take your car to the aquarium. You city people drive like fucking animals. Makes me glad I've never left.

Thursday 3:45PM You don't act like it. -W

Friday 11:01PM It's not like I've never wanted to leave. I mean, you've spent enough time there to understand. Everyone wants to leave, but it's only the lucky ones who actually do. I know we've been complaining about this whole thing a lot. But... I don't know. It's been nice to not be me. For a little while. You probably understand by now why I can't leave. I know you've been receiving the calls. My mom's condition has been like that for years... I don't want to leave her alone.

Saturday 11:48PM I didn't mean to be nosy, but they called you/me yesterday. They said your mom was awake and asking for you... but she was unconscious again by the time I got to the home. I can take care of her too, when I'm you. If you're okay with it. If not, that's okay too.-W

Sunday 9:06PM She'd know you're not me. I don't want to scare her.

Monday 11:59PM I could still take care of her. From the sidelines. If you want. -W

Wonwoo stares at the last note he put in the log. He didn't swap with you that night, or any night since, so you haven't read it. Now he's finding it hard to accept that he'd settled for this mode of communication. You'd tried to trade phone numbers at one point, but his messages weren't sending. The ones that you'd sent as a test went through, but there were no notifications for them. By the time he'd thought to scroll through his old messages, it was like yours were always there. He knew it wasn't because you blocked him — he could check when he took over your body, after all — so it didn't really make sense.

Not that any of this made sense, but still.

Something must have happened for the swapping to suddenly stop with no warning, but then again, it's not like either of you got any warning when it started.

Sighing, Wonwoo pulls up your number and hovers his thumb over the call button. He's never spoken to you, really — only ever heard your voice when he was using it.

He taps his thumb and brings his phone up to his ear.

It rings until the automated voicemail message plays, and he hangs up.

Then tries again.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice answers.

Wonwoo blinks. He's never talked to you face to face, but he knows this voice is one he's never heard before. "Who is this?"

"Who is—" The voice chuckles. "You called me, buddy."

"I'm looking for..." Saying your name out loud feels strange. He's never told anyone about you.

"Sorry man, they must've given you a fake number."

Wonwoo frowns. "That's not possible." You sent those messages to him before with the exact number he's calling now. "Just a couple weeks ago we—"

"I've had this number for like two years, so I don't know what to tell you."

"Two years?" Carelessly, Wonwoo's hand shoots out to support himself on the counter, and he knocks over your whale shark mug. "Shit." Hot coffee spills all over fake marble, and the handle of the mug cracks completely off. "Fuck."

Wonwoo hangs up on the stranger even as they ask if he's okay, and he tosses his phone on a dry section of the counter so he can hold the broken handle of your mug in one hand and the rest in the other.

He doesn't get it. He really doesn't.

But he feels like crying.

Why did it stop?

Where did you go?

Why did he have to break the one thing he has here that's yours?

The front door of the apartment opens, and through it steps Mingyu in his work attire. He toes off his shoes, puts his wireless earbuds in their case, and when Wonwoo can't hold in a sniffle, Mingyu looks up at him.

He meets Wonwoo's teary eyes, glances at your broken mug, and, shocked— 

Whispers your name.

Wonwoo's mouth drops open. He can only stand frozen as Mingyu marches up to him and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Is that really you? It’s okay. It’s okay. We can go back and get you another one! Where were you? I’ve been— I thought—”

Careful not to touch him with the broken edges of your mug, Wonwoo pushes Mingyu off. “You knew?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, and he backs off with a faux casual cough. “Haha… Knew what…?” he drawls, avoiding Wonwoo’s hard gaze and scratching the back of his neck.

“Don’t play stupid. You said their name.” Wonwoo puts the pieces of your mug on the counter. “How long?”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Mingyu.”

“The whole time?” Mingyu flinches back, wincing with one eye peeked open to watch for Wonwoo’s reaction. “Um…”

Wonwoo feels dizzy. “The whole time?!” he echoes. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“They told me not to!” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. “They were embarrassed I caught them so quickly.”

“But… You… Wait, the aquarium… You went together…?”

Leaning into it now, Mingyu talks over Wonwoo’s confusion. “So where are they? Do you know what happened? Why did the swapping thing stop? Did you figure out how it works? Are they ever coming back?”

Wonwoo snaps back to into it at that last question. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Well do you know where they are?” Mingyu steps closer, his brows furrowed. “I tried calling them but some random guy answered. And I don’t know why — I swear they’ve told me a million times — but every time I try to remember the name of their town, I can’t. It’s like a blank spot in my brain.”

Wonwoo frowns. “It’s—”

Wait.

“It’s…”

The name is on the the tip of his tongue, but why should it be stuck there? He was living every other day in that damned town.

“Right?” Mingyu says. He snaps his fingers. “I know it sounds something like… cargo, or gunley, or scarsborough, or—”

“—reporting to you live from Garneau—”

Both of them whip their heads toward the TV, where a news reporter stands in front of a woodsy area. The sky behind them is gray, and the trees are lit by flashing blue and red lights

“It’s been just over two years since a missing persons report was filed after a barn party that was held on the outskirts of Garneau.”

“‘Barn party’?” Mingyu repeats. “Isn’t that—?”

You were the first person Wonwoo had ever heard use the term, since you were planning on going to one with your shitty coworkers. Wonwoo told you not to go — not just because of that one asshole who would always look at you in a way that made Wonwoo shiver, but because barn parties, whatever they were, couldn’t be fun. He had no thoughts on whether or not it would be dangerous.

“This morning, intense rainstorms in a marshy area not far from that party led to the discovery of a human body in the mud. Forensics are showing the person to have been in their mid-twenties, and that their body was submerged for at least one year.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenches.

“Other details are currently unknown, but speculation leads to a connection between the missing persons case from two years prior. We urge anyone with any information on—”

Mingyu gasps when the reporter says your name.

“—to come forward. Until more information is discovered, however, this has been—”

“What the fuck.” Mingyu looks over at Wonwoo, whose face is blank. “What the fuck. What the fuck!”

Wonwoo says nothing. He can’t.

A week and a half ago, he started looking up treatments for your mother’s condition and better homes for patients like her. He missed a deadline for one of his projects while searching for other places you could visit as him that you couldn’t go to in your town, like the giant indoor amusement park, or that cheesy rainforest-themed restaurant. The last time he was in your body, he left a bowl of sliced strawberries in your fridge after you lamented missing the day some client sent an edible arrangement to your work.

Was that two years ago for you? Did you ever even see them?

Wonwoo goes to the entrance of their apartment, grabs his jacket, shrugs it on while slipping into his shoes, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

Mingyu puts his hand over Wonwoo’s. “Where are you going?”

Jerking his wrist, Wonwoo yanks open the door. “To find them.”

Mingyu follows him into the hall. “Didn’t you see the news? They’re—” He stumbles, eyes wide and breath starting to grow uneven. Then he swallows that moment of realization down and meets Wonwoo’s eyes with an uncertain tilt to his mouth. “You really think you can find them?”

Wonwoo can't answer that. “But I'm going anyway.”

Running his hand through his hair, Mingyu turns around for a few seconds with the other hand on his hip. He sighs before dipping back into the apartment.

When he comes back out, his steps are heavy with determination.

“I'll drive.”

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

-

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

[sharp-rosee]

Hey funny story: I haven't been around Tumblr at all for months, but today someone told me menalez had deactivated or something so I came on here and looked it up. First result was a post by you, i checked out your blog and wouldn't you know it your most recent post had you defending me post mortem lmfao. I sent an anon to the other woman too but it seems she won't post it so to clarify to you: when I supposedly said "studies showing violence suffered by bisexuals are cringe and useless" what I remember thinking about that is that those studies that I've seen are never used to try to understand why bisexuals suffer such insane rates of violence (more than homosexuals) and trying to stop it. I've only seen them be used as battering rams in discourse when homosexuals criticize bisexuals. Which is crazy for such a serious issue and totally trivializes it lol. Also that my explanation for it was that such studies show that many abused people incorrectly id as bi for a time. You can disagree or wtv just those were my points, she made it sound like I'm cheering on women beating if they're bi or something. Also your defense of me (thanks queen lol) is accurate if you were wondering. I used to be sorta pro strict separatism but I outgrew the anger/ denial phase of "most women will partner with men" and reached acceptance. Most people are built for romantic partnership, that's just human nature, I can't be hating het women just because their lot in life in that means they're more likely to be abused. Just because I'm not drawn to men, or even much to romance, doesn't mean I should act like that's everyone else too and judge them on that standard, I accept reality and want women to be safe within that rather than pointlessly hate on them and get all worked up because some women have boyfriends..

Well I'm also a mean asshole, I'm sure you noticed, and I definitely would give the bi girlies on radblr a hard time here at the time lol. I don't have the "one side" sort of takes on this divide on radblr. It was funny but I can't feel the energy to that anymore since leaving tumblr, way too few bis or gays irl to care about that stuff. But at the end of the day these are my actual takes on all that disk horse. Funny to see it immediately on such a causal stroll around here lol

-sleep3r4gent

QUEEN I used to follow you ♡ at least when I was crypto a few years back I did.

Also, I'm glad you clarified because the way some women on here seem to hallucinate things they read almost makes me feel insane as well. Like you sending an ask saying you never thought of a certain perspective is not indicative of you agreeing and obviously one can change their opinions over time.

I really have no opinion either way tbh, I myself am straight and in a relationship, and have had others on my last blog send some anons calling me a "dick worshipper" and other misogynistic BS, but they stopped once I didn't let it bother me much. It's so obviously a group of trolls that it's embarrassing that they still believe it enough to keep bringing back the same users, some like you who aren't even misogynistic, to further their persecution complex.

It even is more annoying because these are the women who made Mena/Moideater leave, the above drama is a big reason why. The way radblr will still reblog posts from very racist blogs and not bat an eye but then freak out over a clique of women who aren't even radfems really does show what demographic makes up this site.

I know it gets exhausting to be involved in arguments, but it's nice to know you're still somewhat around. I hope you, Mena and Moid come back someday. If not I understand. But I'll never forget any of them and I haven't forgotten you 😭😭😭

[therealplaguedoctor]

Logan Sargeant x famous.boxer!reader(fem)

Flordia Girl

(Part one of three, completed)

Summary: Y/n is a famous boxer! She's a known influencer and boxer, but she's taking a break from boxing professionally. She hangs out in Miami (where she lives) for a bit so she could attend the gp! After the race she leaves up to her extend families farm up north in the wild west! (I resisted the urge to put a cowboy emoji). But the west wasn't the only thing that was wild, someone happened to be wild over her... will he make a move? Read more to find out!!

Warnings: fluff, mutral pining, cursing, author doesn't know shit bout anything, southern(as in cowboy) spelling, author is American so bare with her, and improper name tags for like the entire grid lol

Genre: kinda smau,

Fc: Random people on pintrest

A/n: Hey so this is my first proper fic on here!! So uhh good luck!! And sorry that it's a bit poorly written!! ALSO I'm sorry how the summary is written I kinda rushed it oops-

Here's a little table of some people relation and name because I needed it while writing:

Andy- yn brother

Kylie- yn sister

Paige- yn friend

Thomas- yn brother-in-law (via Kylie)

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Y.n just posted!

Liked by ynbrother and others

Tagged: ynbrother, ynsister, ynfriend

Y.n Hey everyone I know yall have been waiting for me to talk about it. Yes it is true I am not boxing this year. I love boxing but right now I have different projects that I'm working on that need my attention.

As well as my family, I'm spending more time with them. I WILL be boxing next year. And as for everyone speculating about my health and such: I am a okay. There is no medical reason for this break.

As for people who may ask about the project, just know that it will be revealed soon enough. But in the mean time I will relax with my family!

User1: OMG THANK YOU I WAS WAITING FOR THIS POST

User4: take all the time you need!! Family is important

User5: WHWTS THE PROJECT

User6: she said she'll say later in the post..

Ynbrother: imagine being a boxer

Y.n: imagine being famous for being my brother

logansargeant: family is very important!!

User7: LOGAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

User8: Logan has been a fan of y/n since her rookie days!!

User7: WHAT????

View more

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logansargeant just posted!

Liked by y.n and others

logansargeant Good bye China and hello American! Can't wait to race my home grand prix!! This will be fun!

User9: YOU GOT THIS LOGAN 🦅🦅🦅

User10: LETS GO LOGAN 🦅🦅🦅

WilliamsRacing: Lets go win it!

User11: stop prioritizing Alex then...

User12:🦅🦅🦅

Y.n: You got this next one trust!

User13: MY 2 WORLDS COLLIDE?? Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

User14: y/n has been a HUGE fan of f1 since forever!! She recently became a Logan fan but she's always supported mclaren!!

User13: tysm!! I can't believe this...

User15:🦅🦅🦅

User16:🦅🦅🦅

View more

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I finally was able to sleep in for one day waking up at 10am I checked my phone:

I immediately go and text my best friend:

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Y.n just posted a story!

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After posting my insta story I walked through the paddock gates. There was many people along the sides some people recognized me cameras quickly shuttered taking picks of me.

Even though I'm used to this attention it never gets any less exciting. After a snapping a few pictures with fans I said a quick good bye and went to the mclaren hospitality following the instructions that I was told.

It was a Thursday meaning it was media day there was hustle and bustle EVREYWHERE. I meet with a girl in the mclaren hospitality lounge.

"Hello your y/n right?" a girl questioned me

"Yes that's me" I smiled

"Great! It's so nice to meet you!" She beamed "my names is Sarah, I'm actually the social media admin for mclaren!"

"So you're the one who invited me?"

"I am the one who sent the invite, but actually it was one of our drivers who wanted to invite you" she chuckled

"Really?" I asked "can I ask who?"

"It was Oscar, he said something about someone oweing him later" she said

I nodded "Oh okay" I wondered what Oscar meant by someone oweing him.

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I walked around the paddock meeting some fans of mine. Which was a little surprising how many people that were there who knew me. I quickly posted on my insta:

Liked by mclaren and others

Tagged: mclaren, Oscar piastri

Y.n That's right guys I've been invited to the paddock by MCLAREN this is unreal. I live f1 and to be here right now is truly amazing! Also a little outfit check for media day!

Also I may or may not have been invited to do some interviews with the drivers later... BUT ANYWAYS- I am thankful that I am here and trust I will get yall content of the drivers I'm an f1 girly at heart 🫶🫶🫶

User17: YES GET US THAT F1 CONTENT

Mclaren: Thanks for excepting the invitation!!

Y.n: NO thank you for inviting me this is a dream come true 🫶🫶🫶

Mclaren: 🧡

User18: Admin interacting with y/n heals me 🥹

User19: PLEASE MEET LOGAN YALL WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL

User20: I HOPE OSCAR INTRODUCES THEM

Liked by OscarPiastri

User20: HELP OSCAR LIKED THAT COMMENT

WilliamsRacing: You should stop by our garage 😉

Liked by y.n

View more

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After posting I walked back to the mclaren hospitality meeting Sarah.

"Hey Sarah" I greeted

"Oh hey! We're setting up an interview right now" she smiled "it's gonna be posted on the mclaren YouTube channel. Do you mind joining it?"

"Of course not!" I smiled "I don't get the opportunity to do much interviews and I actually enjoy them I don't mind" I smiled

She nodded "okay!" She said "then it will be you, Lando, and Oscar!"

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I sat in the chair I was directed towards. I was sat on the far right, Lando on the far left and Oscar between us.

"Okay so we pulled a bunch of questions from the fans and sorted through them!" Sarah said off screen "and we were able to get quite a few" she smiled "okay to start: Lando, will you ever try fish"

"No" he responded immediately

I started cracking up "not even a bite?" I asked

"Never" Lando said "I'm sticking with what I like" Oscar just shook his head and Sarah moved onto the next question:

"Now Oscar who is you best friend on the grid?"

Oscar thought for a moment before answering: "Logan definitely, me and him have known eachother forever"

Sarah nodded "okay now y/n: how long have been a fan of formula 1?"

I sighed while thinking "well I've technically been watching since I was born cause my dad loved it" I said "but I've been a fan of mclaren for only a few years"

Sarah smiled and nodded turning back to Lando: "now Lando: what's your favorite football team?"

"Easy: Bristol City" Lando smiled

"Ah you mean soccer?" I said

"Leave it to the American to ruin the question!" He laughed

"Hey! Fun fact it was originally called soccer we kept calling it that and yall are the ones who changed it!"

Oscar was just laughing at the argument before Sarah started again:

"Okay okay, Oscar: what is your opinion on the dynamic between you and Lando?"

"I feel that me and him work well together. While we do have our moments" Oscar chuckled "we do push eachother to do our very best. Lando is very supportive of me with anything I need help with I am greatful for him" Oscar smiled

Sarah then asked me "y/n who is your celebrity crush?"

I started laughing "we go from Oscar's sappy answer to that" I crack up "Oh my god-" I grab my chest "give me a minute" I said as I catch my breath.

"Okay okay celeb crush?" I think for a moment "Oh god I don't think I could say" I laughed "I'd die if he sees this, and I know he'd watch this" I chuckled

Lando then spoke up "come on y/n" he smiled "tell us!"

I shook my head "only if it's censored in the video"

Both the boys look up at Sarah. She was intrigued by my answer and nodded "just cover the mic and say it."

I nodded and cover the mic, I looked back over and said-

Both Lando and Oscar fell out of there chairs basically chanting "no way!"

I uncover my mic as I laughed.

Sarah now also laughing said "okay thank you boys and y/n we'll end it here" the cameras cut "the video should be out later tonight"

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Part two

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 8: Simple Pleasures, Simple Panic

Chapter Word Count: 2,852

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

Two hours had passed since you confirmed the email. Jihoon, ever the gentleman he had been so far today, escorted you to your room after the confirmation, wanting to hit the hotel gym and shower before any pizza plans were set in stone. 

You were able to keep you worrying in check for Jihoon, not wanting to feel like a burden with your emotions probably always spilling over into him. From your time out, Seungkwan and Chan had you download Kakao Talk and exchanged information with everyone in your little group earlier, sharing the pictures back and forth with funny little captions if the photos were ‘post worth’. It took your mind off the looming post from the staff. 

A knock coming from your door served as a good distraction from your tidying of the majority clean room, endless scrolling on Tik Tok, and staring blankly out the window of your room. 

Standing at the door upon opening it was someone you didn’t expect but gladly accepted. 

“Seokminie, Mingyu-ah, Wonu-ah, and I were going to play Super Smash if you wanna join us.” Joshua’s sweet voice had you smiling. 

“You have no idea how nice that sounds.” You sighed out, checking for your room key and phone before trailing behind him. 

“Jihoon-ah told me that the announcement should be out soon, thought I’d invite you to get your mind off it all while he is still at the gym with Soonyoung.” 

Approaching the room, you hear a shriek of annoyance, loud and startling with the door propped open. 

“ Hyung you are cheating! Stop messing with my controller!” You hear the boisterous cry of Mingyu. 

Joshua sent an apologetic glance before pushing the door open and allowing you in. There sprawled out across the queen sized bed was Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin. Seokmin was half in Mingyu’s face, one hand working the controls while the other was trying to mess with Mingyu. Wonwoo was neutral territory, sitting up against the headboard in peace. 

“ Hyung! Make him stop!” Mingyu wailed, turning his body and using his leg to hold Seokmin down, who just laughed and continued to try his sabotaging. “ Ruby-ah! Help!” 

You used your fingers to make a small X, shaking your head. “No thank you, Seokmin-ah could probably yeet me across the room.”  

“Did you just use yeet in a Korean sentence?” Joshua asked, jumping and landing himself on the bed next to Wonwoo. 

“Like you haven’t used Konglish before.” You mocked him.

Instead of joining the battlefield of the bed, you took the desk chair and arranged it so you could sit and see the screen without an issue. Watching them play seemed more entertaining than actually playing. Seokmin called a truce for the next round when Joshua joined, Mingyu glared daggers at him once he removed his leg, getting huffy that he lost entirely because of the other’s antics. The next round added an agreement of only random characters, suggested by Wonwoo, and the challenge was easily accepted.

Mingyu took the breather to get more comfortable, laying flat on his stomach with a pillow under his chest and neck. Not even a couple moments in and Joshua had taken his turn to torment Mingyu, fueling the fire to add Seokmin back in. You couldn’t resist the fun and slid the chair in front of his face, blocking the view of his character, saying you needed a better view of the screen. 

“ Don’t join alliances with them! Be on my side!” Mingyu gave an aggravated groan, reaching out to try and move the chair you were, but you kept moving back. 

Laughing bubbled out of the other three, only fueling your own mischief. Wonwoo took the opportunity to get Mingyu’s character off the screen. The latter howled in frustration, feeling the controller vibrate in his hand. When his character was fully out of the round, you relented and moved, feeling your heart break a little at the kicked puppy expression on his face, clearly defeated both in game and mentally. 

“ Mingyu-ah, I’m sorry.” You let out but Seokmin spoke after you. 

“ Don’t apologize to him! He does the same thing! It’s revenge for all the stuff he does!” 

The room was bathed in laughter again. Subconsciously, you raised a hand and ruffled Mingyu’s hair, something you ended up doing a lot with Kazuki when hanging out, grinning along with everyone. Once realizing your actions, you pulled your hand away as if burned, pushing the chair further away. 

“Ah- Shit, Sorry.” Eyes wide, you see even Mingyu was looking at you, however his expression was more of giddy energy, already big eyes opened fully with the smallest hint of a toothy smile on his face.. 

“Don’t worry, Mingyu thrives on physical affection.” Wonwoo’s voice had your eyes moving to him. “ A little too much if I may add.” 

Mingyu was still looking at you with glittering eyes and you debated on doing what you and about every Carat on the planet wanted to do; play with his hair. You pursed your lips in contemplation but the more you made eye contact with him, the more the temptation was there… 

“ You aren’t making this easier to resist.” 

“Don’t, then you can go online and tell everyone how fluffy and soft my hair is.” 

“...You drive a hard bargain.” 

And what was how you found yourself styling small braids into his hair as he played. It kept your hands busy. Each time one of them asked if you wanted to play you declined, content with what you were doing. The buzz beneath your skin told you Jihoon was close-ish, probably somewhere on the floor to clean up after his workout. 

You were able to sense him growing closer before the door even opened. You were on the second handful of little braids when you stated that fact. “ Jihoon is almost here.” 

Not even lifting your head from your hair styling session, Jihoon pushed the propped door open, freshly showered, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, and a small hotel towel around his neck to catch any droplets of water. 

“ Why are you all staring at us?” Jihoon asked, causing you to lift your head and take notice of the eyes on you, you didn’t even notice Mingyu had moved to look. 

“ Ruby-ah said that you were almost here and you just…showed up.” Mingyu spoke up, brows furrowed in confusion. “ Can soulmates do that?” 

“ Oh, yeah, I thought it was normal.” The shorter man just shrugged. He paused for a brief moment and your chest tightened with what you assumed was envy. 

Out of instinct, you pulled your hands away, leaning back into the desk chair and propped your socked feet up on the mattress. Stepping further into the room, Jihoon forced Mingyu to scootch over, taking the spot on the edge closest to where you sat. The envy still rumbled below the surface but thankfully much less now. 

“ Seungkwan and Vernon never said anything like that.” Wonwoo tilted his head in question, one eyebrow raised. 

Seokmin snored out a laugh. “ Maybe they are just weird.” 

That was going to be something you would google later.

A chorus of chimes echoed through the room. 

Taking your phone out, your heart dropped at the notifications from both Twitter and Weverse. Quickly you opened the Weverse app and pulled up the announcements. 

[Notice] Confirmation of Member’s Soulmate Found

Hello, 

This is Pledis Entertainment.

We would like to provide you with some information regarding SEVENTEEN member Woozi’s current soulmate status. 

Within the last 24 hours, the member has confirmed that his Soulmark Timer has run out and the bond has been solidified between himself and his soulmate. The artist’s soulmate who only wanted to share their first name, Y/N, does not wish to make a comment at this moment, but we ask fans for kind consideration regarding their privacy. 

At this time, SEVENTEEN will be remaining in America as scheduled for the next few days and will return to South Korea where they will rest before starting the Asia leg of the BE THE SUN Tour. 

Woozi’s soulmate will be joining on future travel and event plans due to the demand of the group and seriousness of Soul Withdrawal Symptoms. 

No other member has found their soulmate at this time.

Thank you. 

Your breath caught in your throat, reading over the notice one, twice. You zoned in on your phone screen, taking calming breaths to help process the fact that it was real. Your name was posted online beside Jihoon’s, telling the world that he was the first member – outside of Seungkwan and Vernon – to find their soulmate. 

In that moment you felt like the world had stopped around you. All at once you went through any and every emotion that had wracked your brain earlier for this very moment: fear, anxiety, vulnerability, insecurity, overwhelmed, and so many more. 

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until the phone screen was ripped from your vision and soft hands were lacing your fingers together, grounding you to the current existence. A warmth from within attempted to calm the roaring storm inside your soul, it gave you just enough stability not to burst into tears. Refocusing now, you notice he was crouching on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with immense worry. Guilt began to creep up. 

“ Take a breath for me, it’s okay.” His words came out strained, the discomfort from your emotions evident. 

Between breaths, a labored sigh wheezed out of you. “I really…need to stop…getting so…emotional.” 

One of his hands released yours and ever so hesitantly raised it to hold your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently. 

“ I’ve seen more tears of out Soonyoungie. This is nothing.” He teased, voice barely over a whisper. “ It’s a lot for anyone to handle.” 

“If you guys are going to flirt, get a room.” Seokmin stated dramatically, Mingyu joined in with a fake gag. Joshua and Wonwoo just snickered in the background.

Jihoon set his jaw and reached over with the hand once on your cheek and pinched Mingyu who yelped and smacked his hands away. Thankfully, you let just a small amount of your horrible feelings wash away, even bring yourself to laugh at the comment. 

“ Do you guys have to be such brats?” Jihoon tsked, an unamused expression making its way onto his face.. 

Just as they did through a computer screen, the childish antics and simple humor brought you a piece of happiness. You were lucky. Being soulmates with someone from a group that brought you joy was something you wouldn’t take for granted. 

You gave a firm squeeze to Jihoon’s hand, watching as your soulmate turned his attention back to you. His expression softened instantly, no harsh lines seen between his eyebrows. 

“ Thank you.” Speaking softly, you placed your other hand atop his, shaking your head with a hint of a smile on your lips.

You swore you could feel him swoon. 

“ Noona, do you have a favorite song by us?” Chan sat on the floor of your hotel room, a paper plate and an obnoxiously large slice of pizza placed on his criss-crossed lap. 

Just as you promised, Jihoon, maknae line, and yourself were sitting in your hotel room in a little circle with the pizza box before you all. Out of generosity, you had ordered enough pizza for the members but the handful of you secluded in the quietness of your room. 

You were mid-bite, covering your mouth with your hand as the question wracked your brain. That question wasn’t straight forward, your mood played heavily on what was your favorite, hell even the season could alter that. 

“ Wah, Jihoon-hyung looks like he wants to know.” Vernon laughed through his eating. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you take notice that Jihoon’s eye opened wide with curiosity, a faint pink color dusting over his cheeks. He stayed silent, trying to settle his expression to natural as he continued to eat his pizza, letting himself lean against your shoulder. 

You moved your head back and forth, running through their discography in your head. “ When I’m sad, Hug or Fallin’ Flower, more to calm me than make me happy, you know? When I’m happy, Snap Shoot, Swimming Fool, and To You. If I’m vibing , Chili. Picking a favorite is hard, but I think Spotify would say it’s To You or Run to you.” 

Chan was beaming at you, smiling between each bite and scrunching his nose as he grinned. “ Do you like my line in Snap Shoot, Noona? Wah, if we knew you were hyung’s soulmate I could have made Seungkwan-hyung go and make you dance or sing during it! Or Aju Nice!” 

The thought had you shuttering, clear horror on your face. Quickly you shook your head. “ If you ever do that or even think about it, I will soon know exactly where you live.” Your eyes mainly landed on Seungkwan.

That only had Chan cackling, joined by Seungkwan and Vernon. Against your arm you felt Jihoon shake in a laugh. 

“ I would probably freeze up and fail! The big screen is already intimidating when you see other people on it but putting yourself there?!” You rambled, exasperated at the very idea of it. “I couldn’t even get on the stage for a school play! ” 

And Chan was now on his back, barely holding it together enough to palace his plate aside. You hear Jihoon laughing now, pure childlike joy. His eyes were closed, nose scrunched up and his mouth wide open in a smile. Vernon’s gummy smile was shown and the deep rumble of his laugh was heard alongside Seungkwan’s, the latter’s face lighting up in delight. 

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m serious!” You whined in English, using a napkin to cover your face to hide the flush on your face, batting a hand at Jihoon’s arm. “ Just because everyone else in the room can perform without an issue, doesn’t mean everyone in the world can.”  

Chan pleaded for you to stop though you weren’t particularly doing anything to stop him. He gasped for air, Vernon patting his leg to provide some comfort for the distress he was putting himself in. 

From anyone else's point of view, this would look absurd, but to you it felt like an evening in your apartment with Jamie and Kazuki. It put your soul at ease that you would have people that you would still be able to rely on. You also hoped that they would grow comfortable enough to rely on you. 

You felt like you talked for hours, well you did but that was besides the point. The pizza was long gone and none of you made a move to get off the floor. You found yourself leaning a majority of your weight against Jihoon, feeling the subtle buzzing electricity under your skin at the contact. Unwillingly, you were nodding off at something Seungkwan was talking about, shaking your head to try and stay awake. Gently, you felt a hand move your head. With your soulmate being the closest, you let him rest your head on his shoulder. You attempted to fight against the drowsiness but lost and drifted off. 

  Waking up in your bed tucked under the comforter was a little surprising. The room was bathed in majority darkness, the curtains drawn open letting in light from the moon and the city's skyline. Prepared to fall back asleep, you shifted over onto your side, tugging the blanket closer to you but something held it down. Lifting your head through the groggy haze, you laid eyes on not something but someone sitting up against the headboard, arms crossed, head back, and clearly asleep. 

Letting your eyes focus, you sighed with fondness, seeing Jihoon knocked out. You propped yourself up on one arm, reaching out and shaking his shoulder to rouse him. Quietly you called his name but he barely stirred, leaning away from your touch, a pout slowly forming on his lips. Once more you tried to wake him but he slept right through it. 

In defeat, you sat up fully, already knowing you had to change out of your jeans, however you couldn’t let him sleep like that. To the best of your ability you got him under the covers, hearing soft murmurs. He fought you, oh did he fight you, until his head hit the pillow and you pulled the comforter over him. You grabbed a pair of sweatpants from your bag and changed in the bathroom before getting back into bed, using an extra pillow to place between the two of you as a barrier. 

As you settled in, you make sure he was tucked in enough to your standards.

“Goodnight, Jihoon.” You whispered and you fell asleep once more to the soft sounds of the other’s breathing and the mellow buzz of your soul bond.

[suhnshinehaos]

“ mastermind ”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   SYNOPSIS.  the one where the office party is in full swing and jeonghan from marketing has a plan set in motion to ask yn from accounting out, and of course nothing is accidental. 

PAIRING.  yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

GENRES.   non-idol au, office au, pure fluff, my attempt at humor

CONTAINS.  swearing, alcohol consumption

FEATURING.  seungcheol, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon

WC.  4k

INSPIRED BY.  taylor swift’s mastermind

If this was going to work, he had to make sure you actually knew who he was.

The moment you stepped foot into conference room b with that small smile in your face and bright look in your eyes, Jeonghan knew he was already a goner. You sat across him taking notes in your small notepad, nodding ever so often when Seungcheol checks if you were following along as he introduced you to the ins and outs of the company. Just as the meeting ends, his gaze catches yours and if you had held on a little longer you would have noticed the light pink flush that colored his cheeks.

“Wait up!” you exclaimed at eight in the morning on your second day there, just as the elevator doors were about to close.

He watches you enter, eyes trailing on the way you smoothed over the invisible creases of your button up and the breath that escaped your lips. He had never been more grateful that his alarm went off a little later than usual.

You turned to face him, with the same smile you wore the day earlier, “Thank you… Jeonghan, right?”

“Mhmm,” He paused, pretending to think it over, “And you’re Yn.”

Before he could utter another word, the elevator doors opened with a clear loud ding ! which meant the end of the time he shared with you. You would be working in the floor beneath the one he did, and you left with a quick wave and a see you around.

If this was going to work, you actually had to know who he was. And Jeonghan usually clocked in at work at 7:30, but he was more than willing to sit in his car and wait the extra half hour if it meant riding the elevator with you at the same time.

“Hey, Jeonghan!” You grinned, walking into the elevator earlier in the evening, “Party’s on the top floor, right?”

Jeonghan nods before the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, “Don’t you look nice, you’re making me feel underdressed over here.”

He wasn’t, especially not in what he decided was his nicest slacks, shoes, button-up, and coat. Not even his most top-level clients could make him dress up like that, or make him spend over an hour standing in front of his closet agonizing over what to wear.

But it’s all worth it when you nudge his shoulder with your own, “Oh come on, you look nice too!”

~

If this was going to work, he had to make sure he would be the one to give you a ride home.

He’s seen you at the bus stop directly in front of the office building with Jihoon and Soonyoung at the end of every work day. It made sense, the three of you were from the same department and lived in the same part of the city. You always waved at him when you see his car passing by, and he’s always offered the three of you a ride.

“It’s fine. We can take the bus.” Soonyoung grinned, dismissing the idea as soon as he brought it up, “You live the opposite way from us, we don’t want to put you through the extra effort. And gas is expensive these days!”

You and Jihoon always nodded in agreement, though he could tell in the way Jihoon raised a brow and the way your smile faltered that both of you actually didn’t mind going with him. But it wasn’t like the two of you would leave Soonyoung to travel on his own either.

Most everyone gathered into the largest conference room in the building. The space felt immediately cramped, and Jeonghan could feel your arm brush against his own. As soon as he saw the seat next to yours empty, he immediately went to fill it.

When Seungcheol sent a memo for everyone to clear an hour from their afternoon so he could get input for the upcoming company party, Jeonghan rolled his eyes and thought ‘this could have been an email’. But now that he’s next to you, the scent of your cologne filling his senses, he couldn’t have been more thankful.

“Can we please have more alcohol this time around?” Soonyoung pleaded, “It’s the end of the year and we met all of our goals!”

The room murmured in agreement, and just like that, the lightbulb in his mind flickers on. The smile that spreads across his face just as bright as the lights above the conference room.

“Yeah! Come on, Choi! What better way to celebrate, huh?” He yells out, grateful that he was close enough to Seungcheol that he could address him somewhat informally. Even in a room full of people. He attempts to keep his smile innocent, but there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. With Soonyoung intoxicated, there was no way in hell that you or Jihoon would let him commute.

A resigned sigh escapes Seungcheol’s lips, looking around the room to every single one of his employees nodding in agreement, “Fine.”

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, Soonyoung is the first to greet him. He slung an around his shoulders and pulls him away. Jeonghan sent you a wave and an apologetic smile, his heart skipping a beat when you mouth something along the lines of finding him later in the night.

“Hannie! Great party, huh? Seungcheol really pulled out all the stops!”

Soonyoung’s breath reeked of alcohol and Jeonghan’s nose scrunched on impulse. Still, he manages to plaster a small smile on his face as he looked around. Seungcheol really did pull out all the stops. Several tables of food and alcohol located in the farthest corner, streamers and balloons littered the entire area.

“It barely even started,” Jeonghan chuckles, nevertheless putting an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders as well, “You’re already pretty drunk… how are you going to get home later?”

Soonyoung pouts, taking a few seconds before answering, “Me and Yn and Jihoon might just take a cab later.”

“That sounds like such a hassle…” He trails off and pauses, as if he were actually taking the time to consider it, “Why don’t I just drive all three of you home later?”

With his defences down, Soonyoung doesn’t even remotely think about turning him down. He puckers his lips and places a quick kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek, “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll go tell Hoonie and Yn.”

Before Jeonghan could even tell him it was no problem, he’s already happily skipping away to the direction of the DJ booth. Jeonghan shakes his head, if this was going to work, he’d have to be the one to take you home. He can’t have anyone else trying to change your mind at the last possible minute.

~

If this was going to work, he needed to get Joshua Hong out of the picture.

It’s no secret to anyone in the office how close the two of you are. He’s always hanging around by your desk every lunch break or bringing you a something from the vending machine whenever you worked overtime. Joshua’s nice to everyone, and you were no exception to being on its receiving end. Whenever Jeonghan sees you in the halls with stacks of paper in your hands, Joshua’s by your side in an instant. Before he could even offer to help you himself. When he sees you making coffee in the pantry, Joshua’s already had you throwing your head back in laughter before he could even make his presence known and strike up a conversation.

He can’t help the tinge of jealousy that crept up from the pit of his stomach, spreading through his veins, and reaching his fingertips when he raises the glass of amber colored liquid to his lips. It’s half an hour into the party and you’re already dancing your heart out. With none other than Joshua Hong himself.

“Are you just going to stand here and watch Yn or are you going to actually join them?”

Jeonghan hears a familiar voice beside him, a heavy arm resting on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, turning to the new figure that now situated itself beside him, “As you can see, Yn’s attention is pretty occupied right now.”

Seungcheol chuckles, noticing him rolling his eyes, “What’s your game plan here, Yoon? You’re going to stand here all night and let the jealousy eat you up?”

“I have no game plan,” Jeonghan takes another sip of his drink, “I’m offended that you think I would even be up to something. Can’t I just enjoy this amazing party you planned?”

Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, raising his hands in mock defence, “Whatever you say, Jeonghan. I just think that those two look awfully close.”

“Should you even be encouraging this? I know we’re close, but aren’t you practically- no, literally our boss?” Jeonghan raises a brow.

Seungcheol tilts his head to the side, taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts, “HR can talk to you two. Besides, it’s not like either of your positions are superior to the other’s. You’re on equal footing and you work in different departments.”

Just as Jeonghan parts his lips to respond, he sees you take Joshua’s hand and spin him around. The jealousy that had already spread across his body spilled to his fingertips as he crushes the plastic cup in his hand, cold liquid making contact with his skin.

“Fuck.” He hisses through his teeth, passing the somewhat crushed cup to Seungcheol and shaking the alcohol off his hand, “Don’t you have a speech to make? Address your employees for a job well done this year.”

Jeonghan stares at Seungcheol, eyes wide as if he were trying to pass on a message. Because that’s exactly what he was doing. He’s hoping several years as coworkers and friends would eventually pay off.

Seungcheol laughs, a teasing tone coating his words, “Hmm… I don’t know, Jeonghan… Jihoon seems to be enjoying his time as a DJ too and the music is so good, why would I want to interrupt that with a long, boring speech?”

“I’ll treat you to lunch for the next week.”

“Two weeks.”

Jeonghan grits his teeth, “Fine.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Yoon. I suppose I can also pull Joshua aside afterwards and talk to him… I was planning on checking in on all of you anyways.” The teasing tone in Seungcheol’s voice intensifying even more.

“Oh. So this is you checking in on me?”

“Nope. This is me getting free lunch for the next couple of weeks.” Seungcheol grins, “I’ll check in on you later when you’ve finally asked Yn out.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, pushing Seungcheol in the direction of the DJ booth, “Just shut up and go already.”

If this was going to work, he’d have to get Joshua Hong out of the picture and Jeonghan can’t help the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards when the music stops and Seungcheol’s voice fills the room. The space between you and Joshua increases as everyone turns their attention to the makeshift stage.

“Hey, everyone! I was saving my speech for later on in the night, but you know what? I really enjoy the food from that very expensive restaurant right across the street from our office.”

He could feel Seungcheol’s gaze directly on him and it takes everything in his body not to flip him off while the crowd murmurs to themselves in confusion. His wallet was definitely going to suffer, but it would definitely be worth it if the rest of the night goes according to plan.

~

If this was going to work, he needed to be at the building’s rooftop garden before you. He’d stand there with a hand in his pocket and tell you he knew that you’d end up there by the end of the night. That’s just how well he knows you.

“Finally going home?” He asked, brow raised and tired smile plastered on his face. At that point, you had been working for the company for quite a while. Jeonghan leaned on  one of the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows, hoping you thought he had an air of nonchalance around him.

You craned your neck from side-to-side, trying to get stiff feeling out to very little success, “Working overtime today, so nope. Not yet. I might get some air at the rooftop garden later though… Care to join me?”

Jeonghan tried to suppress the slight tug on his heartstrings, holding up the folders you had just handed him, “I’d love to. But if I want to get home before midnight, I should probably get started on these.”

“Well, you should try seeing the view from there some time. It’s my favorite place in the entire city. I try and get up there whenever I’m staying here late.” You sighed, but there’s a small hint of a smile on your face. “Well anyways, I should get going. We still got a lot of work to do.”

You walked away with him with a mock salute and he doesn’t fail to notice the way every single ounce of tiredness and fatigue disappeared from his body. Jeonghan took out his phone, opened the notes app, and added to his growing list of things he now knew about you : favorite spot, the rooftop garden of the office building.

And that’s exactly where he is now.

Jeonghan takes a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill up his lungs. The bright lights of the buildings that surrounded him, the glowing gleam of the moon high above him, the distant sounds of people yelling and cars honking and a city alive, and even the faintest scent of the flowers that have been planted work together in overwhelming his senses. He can definitely understand why it would be your favorite spot in the entire city.

It’s a couple of hours into the party and Soonyoung had approached him earlier about the possibility of going home pretty soon. Apparently, you had told your commuting buddies that your legs were beginning to get tired from dancing. That was his cue to make his way up. If he knows you as well as he thinks he does, you’d be coming up there pretty soon.

So he waits. He taps his foot on concrete. He mumbles to himself.

‘Yn, hi… crazy seeing you here… No, that’s stupid. Yn! Hi! I can see why this is your favorite spot. No, Jeonghan. Lame. Ah… I knew you’d come here. I wanted to ask you something… Will you go out with me? Yeah, that’s good-’

Jeonghan stops himself when he starts hearing quiet footsteps making their way towards him. He takes another deep breath, preparing himself to turn around to face you. Taking a couple of seconds, he spins on his heel and is greeted by your smiling face.

Just as his lips part to speak, your voice fills the air, beating him to the punch.

“Hey, Jeonghan. I knew you’d come up here.”

~

If this was going to work, you’d have to know what Jeonghan was up to.

The entire time.

“You know Jeonghan’s been staring at us this entire time, right?” Joshua asked you earlier into the night, his lips by your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You scrunched your nose as his warm breath hits your skin, the strong mixture of beer and whatever perfume he decided to wear that night overpowers your senses. Taking a single step back, you grabbed Joshua’s hand and spun him around to melody of the song, “I know.”

Joshua’s eyes meet yours, familiar glint of mischief in his gaze, “Oh, you’re evil.”

“Just trying to speed things up a little,” You smirked, shrugging your shoulders, “And it takes one to know one, by the way.”

“Don’t you dare put me in the same category as you,” Joshua threw his head back in laughter, taking your hand and pulling you closer to his chest as your bodies moved in time with the beat.

You raise a brow, “Then why’d you pull me closer?”

“Jeonghan keeps stealing the nice pens off my desk and you have no idea how much it annoys me. Let me rile him up a bit, yeah?”

Just as you were about wrap an arm around his neck, the music abruptly stops and Seungcheol takes the stage. He taps on the microphone twice, the slight feedback makes your face contort into one of discomfort as you took a couple of steps away from Joshua.

You felt someone’s gaze on you, staring into the back of your neck. You didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who it was. Nudging Joshua’s side with your elbow, you muttered just loud enough for him to hear, “Good job, Hong.”

“Tell me all about it at lunch next week, Ln. But the PG version of tonight, ‘kay?”

Part of you expected that your little stint would be enough for Jeonghan to come running to you, especially when Seungcheol pulled Joshua aside at the end of his speech. Instead, you were making your way towards the DJ booth and greeted with an amused smirk from Jihoon.

“Loverboy didn’t come get you yet?”

You groaned, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Nope.”

“Poor you.” Jihoon pouts, but the sarcasm that laced his words stings beneath your skin, “Well, he offered to drive us home so maybe you can just wait for the party end and ask him out then. Soonyoung and I can pretend to fall asleep in the backseat?”

“I’m not asking him out with you two there. Unless I can somehow get the both of you too drunk to remember.” You sighed, waving over Soonyoung who was giving it all on the dance floor.

He strolled over to where you and Jihoon are, still grooving along to the music that blasted from the speakers, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite commuting buddies. What can I do for you this time, Yn?”

Soonyoung’s speech isn’t even a little bit slurred, his eyes still bright and alert as he looked at you with the most excited facial expression you’ve ever seen on anyone. While the slightest scent of alcohol lingered on his skin, you knew that he wasn’t as drunk as people thought.

“I’m getting tired from dancing,” You spoke, looking him directly in the eye and hoping he’d catch on to what you wanted him to do.

He tilted his head to the side, his brows forming a crease in the space between them, “Okay? Maybe go sit down? Do you want me to get you some water?”

A look of clear annoyance is plastered on your face and Jihoon couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter. You sighed and repeated yourself, slowly emphasizing each individual word, “I said… I’m getting tired of dancing. Maybe we should be getting home soon.”

Soonyoung squints his eyes before he blinked back at you. A second passes, then another, and you could clearly see the gears in his head turning to process you words and the exact moment the realization dawned on him. He made an ‘ok’ sign with his hand before sending you an exaggerated wink, “Got it.”

You watched as he ‘stumbled’ his way over to Jeonghan, shaking your head at how everything was playing out. You always thought he’d ask you out in the elevator some random morning, or maybe even earlier in the evening. Another part of you thought that you could ask him out when you told him your favorite spot in the entire city. Instead you were still stuck at the party, watching as Jeonghan made his way towards the elevator doors, and you knew exactly where he was headed.

“Hey, Jeonghan. I knew you’d come up here.”

“Yn… hi! What do you mean you know I’d be up here?” A nervous chuckle moves through him, taking the hand stuffed inside his pocket and scratching the back of his head, “How would you even know that? This is your spot-”

Cutting off his words, you make no attempt to stop the laughter that escaped your lips at the dumbfounded expression on his face. The cold night air wraps around your body as you make a few tentative steps towards him. Jeonghan’s expression remains even as you lessen the gap between the two of you and stand beside him. You lean on the metal railing, looking out at the starless night sky, “Remember when I told you that this was my favorite spot in the city?”

Jeonghan nods, following your lead and looking out at the sky as well, “Yeah. You said you came up to our floor because Jihoon had some files he wanted me to see… Then you told me about this place.”

“Mhmm,” You hum, trying not to ignore the way your heart skipped several beats when his arm brushes against yours, “now… why would I offer that information up? I could have just said that I was working late. Besides, Jihoon was perfectly capable of bringing you those folders himself.”

You turn towards him, the corner of your mouth quirked upwards as you studied his features. There’s no doubting the crystal clear focus in his eyes, nor the quiet exhale that moved past his lips as he ponders over your question.

It takes him a full ten seconds before he turns his body towards you, so sharp and quick that you could feel a slight gust of air on your exposed skin.

“You wanted me to know.” Jeonghan points an accusing finger at you, “You baited me into coming here… Oh, is Soonyoung even drunk? Are you actually tired?”

“I’m good, didn’t drink anything and I only really danced with one person before I was cut off by Seungcheol’s speech. Soonyoung’s tipsy at most, but he did actually want to have more alcohol at this party. I just told him I didn’t want to run the risk of him puking in the backseat of a taxi. Me and Jihoon didn’t really want to be responsible for that. Besides, now you’ll know where to pick me up when you drop us off later.”

The smirk on your lips grows wider with every word and Jeonghan could practically feel his mind operating on overdrive. He runs a hand through his hair, “Drop you off… what about Joshua?”

“Yeah…” You suck in air through your teeth, taking a second to yourself to tease him, “You should really stop stealing his expensive pens. And I don’t really like Josh like that.”

Jeonghan scoffs, finally piecing everything together, “Couldn’t you have just asked me out like a normal person?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you point out, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, “I see you wait in your car every morning, you know. Your windows aren’t tinted.”

A bright pink tint colors his cheeks as he squeezes your hand twice, just to make sure that you were actually real — that this was actually happening. He couldn’t care less that you had seen right through his obvious affection, Jeonghan asks again but this time in a much softer tone of voice, “You couldn’t have asked me out like a normal person would? You had to lead me out here?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You shrug your shoulders, “Besides, it’s nice out here. Just you and me. Pretty romantic, huh?”

You’re still teasing him, Jeonghan realizes. He rolls his eyes while trying to fight off the smile that spread across his face, “You’re really something else, Yn. I think I’ve just met my match.”

The latter part of his sentence he says more to himself than to you. Warmth spreads across your body when you feel his thumb rubbing along the skin beneath it, clasping your hand tighter. You find your voice just a few seconds later, “So is that a ‘yes’ on the date?”

“It’s an ‘I’d love nothing more’.” 

from reese, with love <3 it took a while, but it’s finally out !!! honestly- this idea has been sitting in the drafts since i heard mastermind and thought about how jh coded it was >_< but yk, it’s still worth saying that this is just all for fun and for me to ruminate on jh meeting his match HAHAHA either way, i hope you enjoyed reading this! id love to know what you think :) hope you’re all doing well and taking care :)

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 5

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Masterlist

"Stop texting him, Valeria."

"I wasn't."

"Sure" Silvia says, rolling her eyes. "Besides, isn't he playing tonight?"

"He is, but the game hasn't started yet. I sent him a good luck text and was just checking if he had seen it." But he hadn't. It was still unread, like all the other texts I've sent him during the past couple of days. "I'm such an idiot, Silvia."

"Yes, you are" she says. 

"This was supposed to be just sex, something fun. You yourself said it. Why has it gotten so… complicated?"

"Love works in mysterious ways" she shrugs.

"I don't love him" I laugh.

"But you've definitely caught feelings. And so has he."

"Valeria, Silvia!" Marc says as he walks towards us. "Thank you very much for coming."

"Of course" she smiles. "And congratulations."

"Thank you" Marc says. "Are you alright, Valeria?"

"Uh?"

"You look a bit… worried. Stunning, but worried. Do you have trouble with a kid or something?"

"Ha!" I snort. "Sorry, sorry. But yes, something like that."

"I'm sure you'll be able to fix it" Marc smiles.

"Let's hope so."

"Marc! There you are!" 

"Oh, hello, love" he says, wrapping his arm around Isabel's waist. "I was just talking with Valeria and Silvia."

"Hello" Isabel says with her usual fake smile while looking at me from head to toe. "Nice dress, Valeria."

"Thank you."

"It looks expensive. How can a public school teacher like you afford it? Did you find a sugar daddy or something?" she laughs.

"You are so funny" I say, trying really hard not to roll my eyes and tell her that she is the one who found one. Because Marc comes from a very wealthy family and is currently working for one of the most important banks in the country. Meanwhile, she tries to become an influencer. Though so far, not even the cheapest brands have wanted to work with her. 

"How is Pau doing?" Marc asks Silvia, trying to change the topic of conversation.

"Oh, he's great. Currently in England working on some new piece for the car or something. He tells me but I always forget" she says.

"Isn't that supposed to be super secret? He works for one of the most important Formula 1 teams."

"Yeah, but he knows that when he talks about those things I don't pay attention because I don't understand a word, so it's ok" she shrugs. 

"What about you, Valeria? Have you finally found a boyfriend? You are the only one from our group who still is single" Isabel says with a twisted smile.

"I'm actually seeing someone."

"Are you?" she laughs. "Who?"

"Someone." 

"Oh, c'mon, Valeria. You don't have to lie if you are still alone. It's sad, but it's ok."

"Isa…" Marc says.

"What?" she replies with an innocent smile.

"I'm gonna go get myself a drink" I say after counting to ten to stop me from punching her in front of everyone. 

"Oh, don't run away, Valeria. Tell us his name at least!"

"Congratulations on your engagement, Isabel. And I'm sorry, Marc."

"Sorry?" he asks with a confused look.

"Bye" I say, hearing Isabel calling me pathetic as I walk away.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val… Val, hey…" someone says, touching my shoulder. "Valeria!"

"Fuck!" I yell, quickly standing up and tripping with my dress.

"Careful" Pedri says, his arms around me. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk with you."

"And the engagement party?" 

"I got tired of the bride bullying me as if we were still in high school and I left" I shrug. "Besides, the party sucked."

"How long have you been waiting here?" he asks, moving his hands up and down my arms. "You are freezing cold, Val."

"I don't know" I shrug again. "I left when the second half was starting, sat down to wait for you because my feet were killing me, and then I think I kind of fell asleep."

"While sitting on my front door?"

"Yeah" I shrug. It looks like that's the only thing I can do. 

"Come, let's get you inside. I don't want you to get sick."

"Thank you. But shouldn't you close your car or something? Maybe park it properly?" I chuckle. 

"I probably should, yes" he smiles, making my heart skip a beat. I had missed his smile so much… 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Here" Pedri says, giving me some clothes. "It isn't a Barça tracksuit, don't look at me like that."

"Sorry" I shrug for the millionth time. 

"Do you want me to leave while you get changed?"

"You've seen everything there is to see. And I think I need help with the zipper" I say, turning around.

"Ok" he says, moving behind me. "Done."

"Already?" 

"Yep."

"Oh, thank you" I mutter. I didn't feel his fingers on my back. He didn't touch me. He… he's fucking done with me.

"Do you want a coffee or something to get you warm?" 

"I'm fine" I say while I get changed. 

"So… what did you want to talk about?" he says, sitting down on the sofa as far away from me as he can.

"I… I wanted to apologize. I should have told you about Marc."

"You should have, yes."

"I'm sorry." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he says after a few seconds in silence.

"I forgot."

"Val…"

"I did. I already told you that you make me forget about what I don't want to think about, that when I'm with you I forget about everything else."

"Wait a second. The night we met… Were you trying to forget about him?"

"Kind of."

"Kinf of?"

"They had just announced their engagement and I was…"

"Jealous?" Pedri asks, arching an eyebrow.

"No, no. It wasn't like that. I was… Angry. At them, but mostly at myself."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter, Val. Because I need to know why you've been with me. I need to know if I'm just something to make you forget, a pastime, someone you get to fuck and that's it. I want to know if I'm being used."

"I'm not using you, Pedri."

"Then why can't you be honest with me? Why can't you open up? Is it because I am a kid like you always say? Because I won't be able to understand it?"

"That's one of the reasons, yes" I say, my eyes focused on a loose thread on the sweatshirt he has let me borrow.

"And the others?"

"It's complicated."

"Dear Lord, Valeria" he says, getting up from the sofa and starting to walk around the room. "Why can't you just say it?"

"Because I'm afraid, ok?" I say, raising my voice.

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Of everything!" I'm afraid of what I've started to feel for you, of opening my heart again, of being hurt, of what being with you means, of what people will think, of the hate and backlash, of losing you. But instead of saying all that, I just start crying. 

"What kind of explanation is that?"

"The only one I can give you right now" I sob. 

"Well, that isn't enough."

"Where… where are you going?" I ask when I see him leave.

"To bed, I'm shattered after today's game. You must be happy that we lost."

"I didn't check the result. But I'm sorry."

"Sure" he snorts. "Anyway, you can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I don't want you calling for a car this late at night, it can be dangerous."

"Thank you."

"But don't be here when I wake up."

"What? Pedri, I…"

"Good night, Valeria" he says, finally walking away.

[vidavalor]

Hello! I trully love your metas ♥️

And I want to believe… but how do you match the fact that they have kissed (even fucked) for so many time with the only kiss we have seen which is so clumsly, so fist-time-type, and so turbovirgin?

Thank you!

Hi @margotmignard-blog Thank you and nice to meet you. :) Ok, this is for you and the few Anons who have sent me more or less the same Ask in the last 2 weeks or so as some of my posts have circulated a bit more so yeah, alright, I'll take it on. All of you please help yourself to hot chocolate and holiday M&Ms, even if you are making me think about Every again to write this lol.

Why do I think Crowley & Aziraphale are long-time lovers when Every is an awkward kiss? Because you know what looks just like clumsy, first-time kisses?

Old-married argument kisses of desperation when all other communication is failing that then wind up failing, too, that's what.

Two people kissing in distress is clumsy and messy no matter what stage of their relationship they're in and if they're upset and think the other is about to walk out the door and conflicted about opening up to the kiss because of the argument then all of that makes for a truly gut-wrenchingly awkward kiss. It didn't read as a first time kiss to me at all but I can understand how it might to someone.

I actually think that's the insanely evil genius of it lol. This show is such a bastard worth knowing, I tell ya. :) Right now, they have everyone being all "they need to have a better second kiss!" and just well... if you were them, wouldn't you want that? Would seem a good way to bury the surprise of an older kiss, wouldn't it? Would be a good way to sleight of hand some doubt into *checks notes* apparently everybody but me and a handful of others lol and so help to have everyone flailing again but for a better reason when they throw in an older, better kiss.

It's also a bolder move, both story-wise and performance-wise. Sadly, it's still a big deal that they've even kissed at all and it shouldn't be but, thankfully, it's becoming more common. In a way, though, that makes the fact that they made the first kiss you saw less than ideal a better choice and a better story.

Some more thoughts on this under the cut below that is beneath some gifs of these two who haven't apparently ever kissed before moments away from sex in the wall slam scene in S1... which is Every's parallel scene. By design. To illustrate a contrast. The first kiss we saw is a mirror of oh, just the start of some casual public sex that got interrupted by SatanicNun!Nina. Haven't we all had that relationship where we let someone throw us against a wall before we ever kissed? I mean...

Look at Aziraphale and his little 'getting up to some sexy trouble' smile here... does he not look like he knows *exactly* what he's asking for here and does Crowley not know what the request is and give it to him in a way that screams that this is not the first time? The tone here is a bit... You know, Crowley, I've always said I wanted to fuck in an empty broom closet in a former satanic nunnery and luck of the devil, you just kicked in a door and found one so you are sooooo nice throw me against the wall baby let's go... oh terrific of course this is exactly when the damn nun shows up oh well at least I can enjoy you slurring your S's in sexual frustration for now...

Good Omens throws something down and then gives you context for it later on that causes you to revisit what you thought when you initially watched it, right? They do this all the time. The scenes themselves always work fine on first viewing but they change and morph into a different scene when viewed with the added context the show gives you later. If you're writing a show in that way, you absolutely would make Every the first kiss you showed the audience... *especially* if it was in a cliffhanger-y season finale. Your Ask is exactly the reason why. You and I and a bonkers number of others are engaging with one another on the topic and we're engaging with the show as a result. Some of us are apparently willing to fight to the death insisting that Every is their first kiss. Some of us are like how you appear to be from your Ask, where you're willing to keep an open mind but you're leaning towards it was the first kiss. Some of us are like me and are feeling that, when all is said and done, they are building a relationship that is millennia old and that the show will wind up illustrating an entire history of it by its end and the idea that we have scenes out there already like Rome and The Globe Theatre and 1941 and Tadfield Manor but people think that they just kissed for the first time in 2023 is kind of head-scratching to me.

I've had people ask me how an ancient times vavoom would advance the story and I've answered in other meta how I think it would but I have an ask back for you all: how, honestly, would 2.06 being their first kiss advance the story? They've written characters who have had a relationship of some form with one another since before the Garden of Eden and have shown us that story throughout different points in time. S3 is going to be, at best, set a couple of years out from S2 and is probably set a lot sooner than that, so we're going to end their story sometime before 2026 on their timeline, probably... and the first kiss was in 2023? When you have the opportunity to write an entire millennia-old romantic relationship with all of its highs and lows and show it in the flashbacks and how they inform the relationship in the present? Because that story is already there. That's the story I see watching this and have since the first time I watched it. I'm frankly kinda floored by the number of people who insist that it's their first kiss, especially two seasons into the show. The same show that gave you this before it gave you The Blitz, Part 2?

I got accidentally spoiled for Every like a lot of people and when I saw Crowley's glasses on, I had the feeling that it was probably going to be a terrible kiss. I was hoping that it wasn't the only kiss in the season but when 2.05 finished without it showing up yet, it became obvious that it was going to be a big thing in the finale (hahaha oh God, remember when we didn't know? simpler times lol) and that meant that it was likely the only kiss in the season and while it ripped my heart out like it did everyone else, I never saw it as a first kiss for a second.

If you've been with somebody for a long time and, like everyone else, you have your disagreements and your things to work through but you tend to be the kind of couple where you can always or almost always rely on a baseline of physical communication that helps you express what you feel for one another-- which is a wordy way of saying 'when you've been with someone forever and the sex is amazing' lol-- maybe the worst thing that can happen between you is if that feels like it's falling apart, too. That's what I see in that kiss and, in particular, Aziraphale's reaction to it.

It's not 'turbo-virgin', in an unfamiliar with kissing way, imo-- it's a situation causing conflict for Aziraphale over whether or not he wants to give into the kiss. We've all seen it from every damn angle by now lol. We see him unable to not give in, just a little. He kisses Crowley back a bit. He touches his shoulder and his side. He doesn't pull away because he just can't, really, because he never really wants to not be kissing Crowley, but he also can't just give in because that's the situation that Crowley's set up by kissing him the way he did. Crowley wants him to run away with him and that's not a solution to any of this, either, and everything is a total mess and if Aziraphale just gives in and opens up more and really kisses Crowley, he's saying yes to just running off with him and they can't. There's really nowhere to go.

Even with all of that, he still can't resist kissing Crowley a bit and touching him because Crowley and because what he really wants is for them to be literally anywhere else, somewhere safe away from all of it, without having to worry about Heaven & Hell, but they aren't and he can't pretend that they are. That'd be even crueler, really, to really kiss Crowley and then still go to Heaven, right?

It's not a first kiss and at a bad time panic-- it's oh God, I think we broke it. It's the heartbreak of suddenly being in this place together where they aren't communicating well on any level and that going past having a verbal disagreement and into the pain of having an absolutely brutally bad kiss with someone with whom you've had countless passionate ones and the terror that it might be the last one and you're never going to feel any of that again.

That's happened to them before.

It's the brutal 1862 scene. Aziraphale in 1862's comment about The Agreement is the most embittered you won't touch me anymore thing ever. They've gone from The Arrangement in their looser, flirtier Globe Theatre era to now what Aziraphale calls The Agreement in 1862. The difference between an arrangement and an agreement is basically where the future is concerned. An agreement is, well, an agreement lol but it tends to be more formal, more restrained, while an arrangement is an agreement that contains more of a view to the future. It's a plan. You agree to meet up but you arrange how, basically. They don't have The Arrangement in 1862 anymore, they have The Agreement and it sounds like the exact fucking opposite of The Arrangement. The Agreement is "stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed," according to Aziraphale.

Read that again: "Stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed." See a problem here? If we're just talking about helping each other out with work assignments then this literally just doesn't make any sense at all as how can you both stay out of each other's way but lend a hand as needed? It's one or the other. It can't be both. It's "stay out of each other's way" when it comes to work assignments. It's "lend a hand, as needed" in their love life and Aziraphale is bitter as all holy fuck about it. They're barely having sex anymore.

That scene in 1862 actually also parallels part of the scene that contains Every. Funny how alike "we have a lot in common, you and me" sounds to what Crowley says in 2.06, isn't it? Dude has got to stop asking for holy water or to run away when they're both a mess-- it not working lol.

The point is that they've been together a long time and they've also both experienced a lot of trauma. They've have times where miscommunications snowballed and it felt broken beyond repair but it's not and it's not because they love each other and they eventually figure it out. That's part of the pain of Every, though, because what happened after Crowley came back from Hell in 1827 was bad and it took a long time to get to a better place with it but they did and better than before and then this kiss that they think could wind up being their last is a complete disaster straight out of the mid-1800s on top of the fact that they're in what feels like in the moment irreversible disagreement.

It's a painful kiss. It hurts to watch. It's supposed to. Not because they've never kissed before but because they've kissed a trillion times and this is by far the worst of the lot.

And these bastards decided it was the first one we should see lol. It's okay, though. These are coming soon, in the past and present:

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 6

My boy my boy... it's been a long time, Becky. This is a response to the writing game prompt "You will love it." "I will hate it." "Nah, you won't."

Thanks to @whositmcwhatsit and @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny and @ellie-24 and @missmaywemeetagain and @from-memphis-with-love and @arrolyn1114 and for playing this game and supporting me as I write, thanks too to @ab4eva for just being an all around mensch....

Summary: Elvis calls Becky, or rather, watches as Charlie calls and asks her to come on tour. She doesn't realize this tour is not going well. But once she is there, she decides to just roll up her sleeves and jump right in. Because Elvis.

WC: 7.3K

Warnings: Swearing, implied drug use, oral sex. This could have been very angsty but it is actually a big ball of unpolished, fantastical, indulgent fluff. I wrote this today and didn't have anyone read it. So beyond typos, expect historical inaccuracies and probably mischaracterization of everyone, including my OC.....

If you need to catch up.... Chapter 5: Salty Lips

Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

6 pm Sunday, July 20, 1975

Geiler’s Hardware Store, Jackson, MS

Harriet’s key clicked into the back lock of her parent’s hardware store, and she pulled the handle to double-check that the door was, indeed, locked, before turning to look at her cousin. Becky’s mind was elsewhere and she stared down at her Chuck Taylor sneakers, raising her head only after Harriet coughed, and the two women made their way to Harriet’s small, yellow AMC Pacer. Becky looked out the window, playing with her hair, purposefully avoiding Harriet’s curious stare.

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“Earth to Becky, where are you? You haven’t said anything about the date Ida set you up on Thursday.”

Becky pulled on the ring she wore on her right hand, a band of platinum with a diamond flower at the center. It was the ring Elvis had given her, and she could still almost feel the caress of his hand as he slid it on her and told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved beautiful things. That had been a month ago, but it could have been yesterday when Charlie, Billy and Jo had all been rounded up to drive her home to Jackson after a whirlwind week at Graceland.

Becky tilted the ring back and forth, then looked up to watch the businesses in the Fondren go by as Harriet drove her home. Why did it feel like cheating on Elvis to go one blind date. An innocent blind date. An innocent blind date that had fizzled out and ended with a very platonic hug.

“Ugh, he was nice enough. I don’t know.”

Harriet looked over, then back at road.  “It’s Elvis. Ida says he calls you every few days.”

“Yeah, he does. He asked me to come with him for his show in New York. Then well, when I said no I guess he went down the list.”

Becky sighed, thinking of the photos in the newspaper of Elvis with a very thin, very blonde woman who definitely was not Linda. The thought made her frown, and Harriet looked at Becky with sympathy as she turned the car on to her parent’s street.

“I thought you said that you left things on good terms, and that he wanted you to move up there? I can’t believe you would rather be here in Jackson than in Memphis.”

“Yeah. I mean no. I like, him, I mean, I cannot help it. I used to day dream of dating this man. But look at me, Harriet.”

Becky grabbed her purse and got out of the car,  sweeping her hand over her body to showcase her tee shirt and jeans as she stood.

“I’m not groupie material. And I can’t up root my kid and move to a new city just so I can join Elvis’ harem for a few months. We left things on good terms, but I don’t even know if I am cut out to be a harem member.”

“You are a knock out, Becky. You are totally groupie material. No, wait. You're better than groupie. You are at least favorite girlfriend number two or three material. I cannot believe you aren’t on your way to Memphis. Or New York. You only live once!”

Harriet grinned as Becky shook her head and sent her off with a bang to the yellow hood, before turning to walk into the house.

She was a greeted with a yell from Ruth, who was coloring with Ida at the dining room table. Becky could smell Saul’s pot roast wafting from the kitchen as she crossed the room and kissed Ruth on head, checking out her drawing of what looked like a dressed up mushroom in a pile of rocks standing next to Father Christmas.

“What do you think?”

She looked at Ida, whispering as she tried to decipher the words her aunt was mouthing.

“The mob-bit? The Hobbit! Yes, of course, it's The Hobbit. There’s Bilbo. Wow, Ruth, you really captured what I thought he looks like.”

“I’ve been practicing my hobbit form. And see, he’s talking to Gandalf.”

“Ah, yes, I can tell from the beard.” She had to stop herself from giggling at Ida’s wink. “SO amazing, you have become a very talented artiste!”

“Well, she learned from the best.”

Becky smiled at her aunt as she went to grab a beer. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, I can’t wait to hang this one the fridge.”

 The phone rang while Becky was at the fridge, and she watched Ruth run to get it as she slumped into the chair next to Ida, who reached over to rub her forearm.

“Oy, Rebecca, was the restocking that bad today? You should have stopped Saulie from leaving. He is only 60, he could have helped finish -”

“Oh, no, Ida. Unless Saul has an in-depth knowledge of waterbed installation, his presence wouldn’t have made a difference.”

 “Why do people want to sleep in those things? What if they leak. Or break? I get sea sick just thinking about it.”

“I’ve heard they can be really relaxing. I don’t know, but there is a new waterbed store two doors down. The owner spent an hour trying to figure out what materials he needs us to order, so I guess business is keeping him pretty busy.”

“Can you imagine getting busy in a water bed?”

“Ida!”

Ida grinned, fluffing up her short, silver bob. ”I’m just saying, I couldn’t make whoopee on top of a big bag of water, oy vey, I’d be so nervous, what with the sound of the sloshing - “

“Wait, hold that thought, although you know I love hearing about your sex life.” Becky held up her finger for her aunt to stop talking, pausing to hear what Ruth was saying on the phone.

“How do I know you are really a friend of Elvis’? Well can you ask him to come over again? The  kids next door don’t believe he is my mom’s boy friend. And he promised to take me for ice cream again.”

Becky strode over to the phone. “Ruthie, who is it?”

Ruth covered the receiver with her hand, a mischievous look crept up her little face. “He says his name is Charlie, and when I asked how he knew you, he said -”

Becky held out her hand, taking the phone from her daughter. “Uh huh, ok, that’s enough from you , chatty Kathy, go help Ida clear up the art studio and set the table for dinner.” She paused, smoothing her hair, as if Charlie could see her from the other side of the phone.

“Hi Charlie. What’s up?”

She heard a single nervous “ha” on the other side of the phone, and took a deep breath. “Well, a, heya there Becky.”

It seemed to Becky like there was a more anxious desperation behind Charlie’s perfunctory niceties.

“Hiiiii? What’s up?”

“Look, um, Elvis asked me to call and see if you might reconsider coming out on tour? You know he misses ya somethin’ awful, ain’t stopped talking bout that cute chick back in Jackson.”

Becky took a deep breath, thinking of the photos in the paper of Elvis and that model.

“Hmmm. I’m sure. You know I want to, but I have a kid, Charlie - and it’s her  last little bit of summer, I don’t wanna leave her  twiddling her thumbs while I go traipsing around the country-”

“So bring her. Priscilla brings Lisa all the time, you know, they make it work,  Elvis is a family man, hon- I mean Becky, tour is not some wild orgy. You’ve been there. The guys, the band, were all like a big happy family.”

“One big happy family, huh? I don’t know.”

“I can hear it in your voice, Becky girl, I can tell ya wanna come.”

Becky sighed, looking as Ruth paused her place setting to look up and grin at her mother. Ida was behind her, eye brow arched up as Becky motioned her over, whispering with her hand over the mouth piece if it would be ok to take off for a few days. It was disconcerting how much Ida nodded and how quickly an excited gleam grew in her eyes. Becky shoed her off and carried the phone to wonder down the hallway so no one could hear her.

“Maybe. You really think I could bring Ruthie? How long would it be for ?”

She heard Charlie breathe a sigh of relief, and then there was a kerfuffle and the bang of the phone handle dropping on the floor.

“Hey Becky Butt.” Elvis’ deep voice filled Becky’s ears and she realized he must have been sitting there watching Charlie ask her. “Honey, I ain’t stopped thinkin' bout you since you left me. I need you, need you bad."

Becky started to blush, just at the needy, low tenor of his voice. "I have been thinking about you to."

"That's good baby, real good. Let's get you out here, see if I'm still the same as you remember. Can’t wait to see you, baby. Tonight ain’t soon enough.”

“Tonight? Uh - Elvis, I - Charlie said I should bring Ruth? Is that really ok? Is it safe?”

“Honey, I’m a black belt with a gun. Ain’t no safer place on earth. Hell, probably the safest place for your baby. You know how crime is getting in our cities. Bring her along. Charlie can babysit too, he’s basically a child himself. Got the brains a one, any how.”

Becky stood there, tapping her toe as her mind raced. Every bit of sense screamed at her not to meet Elvis on tour. She had just told Ida last week she was ready for her aunt fix her up with any nice single guys her age, in a conscious effort to try and get Elvis out of her system. Be a normal, responsible adult. Having, normal, responsible relationships. But now, talking to Elvis, all she wanted to do was give in and rush to be near him.

“Ok.” She whispered out.

“Good, good girl. I’m having Charlie run get Joe, fly ya out tonight. Go get ya self packed up.”

********************************

The Norfolk airport was pitch black when they landed, and if it weren’t for the lights along the landing strip, Becky may not have been able to make out Jerry’s scowl from across the tarmac.

“You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was clipped and terse as he grabbed her traveling bag, looking her up and down as she wobbled behind him in the high heel suede boots Elvis had bought her.

“Hello to you, too.”

“He said you were bringing your daughter, so at least you have some sense.”

Becky gulped as Jerry opened her door, and she flipped the sun visor down to fix her make up.

“Yeah, I guess… I um, changed my mind. I thought she would have a good time, but then, I don’t know,  I thought the schedule would throw her off. And I guess I don’t want her to get too attached to him. Or the idea of me and him. This is all just a little fun.”

Jerry looked over at her, his shoulders seemed to clench with his jaw as he drove

 “Fun. Ha. Well get ready, I think you’re in for more fun than you bargained for.”

Then Jerry pulled over, and his voice went from sarcastic to earnest as he turned off the car. “Or you can just say the word right now, and I’ll turn around, take you back, and you can catch a flight home. I’ll tell him you never showed.”

Jerry’s hopeful expression gave Becky a strange sense of foreboding and all the excited, giddy anticipation drained from her body.

“But Jerry - there are no direct flights to Jackson, and it’s midnight.” Her lip quivered as she pushed her lipstick back into its case.

“And I - I can’t afford to pay for a hotel and then all the connections I would have to make to get back home. Why are you acting like this? What happened?”

The drove under a streetlight, and Becky saw the bags under Jerry’s eyes more fully as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Elvis has been getting into it with the band all week. Kathy and two of the Sweet Inspirations stormed off the stage mid-show tonight cuz he was talking shit at them sideways.” Jerry looked over at Becky. “The big man can dish it out, but he cain’t take it. No sireee.”

He drew out his “sireeee” as he pulled the white Lincoln into a parking spot at the back of a hotel. Becky shifted back and forth during the elevator ride up, arms crossed in front of the white floral dress she had excitedly wiggled into with glee three hours ago, as Ida kissed her good luck, and Ruth had glowered,  asking again why she couldn’t come. Now she felt ridiculous. Ugh, why couldn’t she ever listen to the voice of reason in her head that told her something was a bad idea. Leaning against the cool metal of the elevator, Becky kicked Jerry’s shin and tried to keep her voice light, positive.

“Ok, so level with me. Why is he fighting with the band, he seemed fine when he called me earlier.”

Jerry stepped away, grimacing at her familiarity. “That is because he is the master manipulator, and he wants you to come keep him company. But the last few days he has been stoned out of his gourd. More than usual. Cuz he’s in pain from all the performances, cuz he’s tired, cuz he’s bored. And he does not want to be on tour.”

“Then why is he?”

Jerry sucked in his breath and held up his hand, and a look of sharp contempt framed his smile as he rubbed his thumb and his forefinger together.

“Money money money, Becky! Linda needs a bigger apartment in LA! Dr. Nick needs a new house! Joe’s swindled him into starting a racquetball club! And of course he needs a different, gold plated plane.”

Becky swiveled in front of Jerry, looking him square in the eye as they hit the twenty first floor and she stepped backwards into the hallway.

“And what about you, Jerry, are your needs being taken care of?”

Jerry shook his head, and a sharp chuckle escaped his lips while he hung back and threw Becky’s blue travel case at her feet.

“Hmmm. I reckon you gotta from here, Becky. He’s in the Presidential Suite. Just down the hall.” He looked away, stating in a matter of fact tone. “Have fun.”

Becky’s mouth dropped as she watched Jerry tilt his head to the side through the closing doors, his eyebrows arched in a challenge. The elevator clanged shut, and Becky steadied herself, then opened her purse, as if all of life's problems could be solved with a tissue or some lipstick. There was the paperback copy of The Hobbit at the bottom, the one she’d been reading to Ruth. The one Ruth had shoved in her hands at the last minute, demanding that she call home and read to her while she was away. Becky smiled, thinking of Ruth’s big brown eyes as her small, stubborn mouth announced that she would be telling the neighbor kids all about how her mom was going to meet Elvis at his concert, even as Becky begged her not to.

“I guess if one good thing comes out of this, it should be Ruthie one upping those Ledbetter brats.”

Becky dug around in her purse, and decided to pop a tic tac in her mouth, the mint was refreshing, it washed away the bad taste her conversation with Jerry had left in her mouth. Then Becky took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. Ida had helped her pin her hair half up in the front, and her floral, cotton dress hung down in a flattering way from the embroidered empire chest to hang loosely over her hips before stopping at her knees. The suede boots gave her some height, and she liked the fringe along the side, she liked the way she could feel it dangle as she walked. She just had to keep her balance and everything would be fine. Looking at herself in the mirror, she blew herself a kiss and took a deep breath. In a moment of inspiration, she broken off one of the yellow roses from the vase on the table, and pinned it into the side of her hair, then strode down the hall.

She pulled on the ring Elvis had given her, once more finding reassurance from rubbing the metal over her finger again and again. But her confidence faltered for a moment outside the suite when she heard the smash of something being flung and breaking against the wall, followed by stomping and shouting. Elvis-like shouting.

“Fired, they’re all FUCKING fired. ‘Cept Myrna, she’s the only one with any sense a loyalty or professionalism. I don’ care if them other bitches come back here, begging, BEGGING, on their knees for their jobs back. They revealed their true colors here tonight. It’ll be a cold day in HELL before I take ‘em back.”

The shouting paused, and Becky leaned into the door to try and hear what the chorus of male voices muttering indecipherably were saying, before a loud voice, deeper than the Mississippi delta, bellowed back.

“Nah. Nope. I ain’t apologizing for shit. They need to ‘apologize to me, Felton, for not bein’ able to take a  GODDAMN joke. There’s a hundred back up singers out there  starving fo’ work. Who’d slit their momma’s throats for a chance to sing with us. Why don’t you do YA job and go find me some a them? What the hell I pay ya for? ‘Sposed to be producin’ this show, go produce some back up singers.”

Becky’s excitement at seeing Elvis again had now been replaced by a tense ball of nerves shifting in her stomach. Suddenly the sound of footsteps came towards her, and she jumped back from the door just in time before three or four men pushed by where she stood back, sucking in her stomach and gripping the wall as she watched them trudge down the hallway. Then she turned to find Charlie at the door, looking at her as his face scrunched from unease into a wide grin.

“Why if it isn’t Becky from Birmingham. Whatcha doin’ hugging  the wall out here, Becky? Git in here, girl.”

Charlie stood back, and Becky braced herself as she entered the hotel room.

It was a mess, plates of half eaten food lined the table and bar, several of which had been flung against the wall, where mashed potatoes and gravy now dripped down the wallpaper onto pieces of broken porcelain on the carpet. Becky shivered, and then tried to compose herself as she looked around. There was Joe, smoking and pacing on the other side of the room, he turned when he saw her, unable to hide the disdain that grew on his face. She recognized Red and Lamar on the couch, Sonny hunched against the wall, but didn’t know the younger, skinnier guy with long brown hair.

Becky suddenly felt very awkward and out of place and brought her blue, vinyl travel bag up to her stomach where she could hug it for comfort. She smiled at Lamar as Charlie patted her back.

“You know the fellas, aintcha Becky?” She nodded, her walk stilted as she came further into the pent house. “The big guy just went to his room, but man are you a sight for sore eyes, he sure is gonna be glad to see you.”

Sonny let out a laugh, then stood up and walked towards her.

“I thought Jerry was picking you up?”

“He was, I mean he did, but I guess he - um - had other stuff to go do.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. By now I bet he’s kissed Myrna’s ass so hard his lips are glued to it.” Sonny rubbed his hands together, looking Becky up and down, and she hugged her bag harder at the resentment in his eyes as he went to pour himself a drink.

“Don’t pay him no mind, Becky, he woked up on the wrong side of the bed is all. For the last ten years.” Charlie laughed loudly at his own joke, as he guided Becky through the tense, silence of the living room towards the master bed room, where he knocked on the door to the old “Shave and a hair cut, two bits” pattern.

“I said to FUCK OFF.” Was the response, and Becky looked at Charlie imploringly.

“He seems - out of sorts. Maybe I shouldn't be here.”

Red snorted behind them, muttering under his breath that was one way to put it.  But Charlie shook his head, whispering.

“Nah, it’s jus been a rough night with some a the personnel.” This elicited another snort from Red, but Charlie continued, undeterred. “He wanted to know the second you got here, trust me.” Then Charlie cleared his throat, calling out.

“Hey boss, guess who is here? It’s lil ol Becky! Just in from Miss’ppi.”

“Well why the didn’t ya say that in the first place.”

The door flung open with a bang to reveal Elvis, still wearing the blue jumpsuit with the silver zebra pattern rising on either side of his chest. A matching zebra patterned belt was at his waist and his hands held an old fashioned looking quilt in patriotic red, white and blue around his shoulders, like the comfort blanky Ruth still slept with sometimes.

 Becky immediately dropped her bag and went to him, cupping his face with her hands as she looked up into his eyes. In spite of all the shouting, the gruff stance, he looked like a wounded puppy. She would whatever she could to take all the pain out of his eyes and hold him until he knew that everything was alright.

The side of her pinky crested against a taut choker, as she shook her head at the dark make-up smudged around his eyes. His lips pursed together at the center as he looked down sheepishly, like a little boy, biting his lip as his hands let the quilt drop to the floor and found her waist.

“Are you cold, Elvis?” She asked, looking at the quilt.

“What, oh that? Nah honey, someone gave it to me at the show and I like." He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Aww Becky, is it good to see you.”

Elvis picked her up and swung her around, bouncing her against his slight belly. His face lit up, and Becky could almost swear he wiped a tear from his eye as he placed her down and drew her into his side, walking her out to the living room.

“Now, this is what a good gal looks like, a loyal gal. Drop ev’ry thin when her man needs her. Man ‘o man, baby. You look like an angel, sent from heaven. How’d I get so lucky, have an angel come visit me, huh?” He grinned, looked at the others before kissing the top of her hair with gusto, so much so that his chin knocked the rose out of it, and then he accidentally stepped on it when he moved to pick it up. Elvis bent at his knees, wobbling as he tried to gathered up all the petals, his voice was high and babyish.

“Aw, no no no no. I’m sorry baby, I trampled all ova ya pretty flower.”

Then he dropped it an octave yelling forcefully.

“Charlie - boy, where’d that dumb ass go.” Before he had even finished uttering the words dumb ass, Charlie was there, chuckling as if Elvis and he were two frat boys yanking each other’s chain. Instead of master and trained dog, Becky mused, then pushed the thought from her mind.

“Charlie, run out and get Becky some fresh roses -”

Becky bent down next to Elvis on the carpet and stilled his hand to pull him back up, notching herself under Elvis shoulder as she turned to Charlie.

“Don’t you dare, Charlie. I just stole it on my way in, I can always go get another one.” Then she leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed Elvis’ cheek. “It’s a sweet thought, though. You’re sweet a sweet boy. Thanks for inviting me to join you, wished I hadn’t missed the show.”

Then she ran her fingers through the sweaty matted hair at his temple, stroked out the sticky hairspray that had kept his coiffed, high pompadour in place. Elvis’ blue eyes locked with hers and his whole body softened.

“S’ok, honey, probably all for the best. Was a sorry ass excuse for a show anyway.”

Becky trailed her fingers lower, over his chin and down along his chest hair.

“Impossible.” She whispered into the crease at his armpit, nuzzling her nose against the edge of his shoulder.

He didn’t even break eye contact as she looked back into his face as he lifted his right hand out and waved the guys off.

“Alright, boys, dismissed.”

Becky smooshed her face back into his armpit, rather than watch the parade of angry, middle aged men depart. Just before he left, she heard Charlie start to say good night and how nice it was to see her, when Elvis yelled for him to stop making eyes at Becky and go find his own gal.

Then they were alone. In a sea of dirty dishes, broken plates, rose petals and one coffee table that looked like it had been turned upside down. Unless it was some sort of new modern design, where you placed your coffee on the marble slab face down on ground.

Looking back up at Elvis, Becky didn’t know what  to say.  The screaming she had heard through the door had terrified her., yet looking at him now it seemed so clear how tired and how much pressure he felt. Jerry’s words rang in her ears, and they summoned all of Becky’s stupid, nurturing instincts. She began to pull off his scarf, peppering his chest with a few soft kisses to sooth the heart beat she heard, running as fast as a loose rail car thundering down a mountain.

Looking back up at his face, she licked her thumb, without consciously realizing what she was doing, and started to clean up his eye make-up, and he started to babble about the whole world going to hell. But he quieted as she shook her head, and gripped her hand tightly, shakily. Feeling him tremble, she remembered how exhausted he must be. So she paused and led him through the master suite and into bathroom, when she sat him on the toilet, stopped him again from protesting that he was fine, with a finger to his lips. Then she took a wet washcloth, and straddled his lap to clean his face.

Elvis grinned up at her, and when was done, he clasped both her hands in his and brought them forward to kiss her knuckles, his eyes level with her breasts. She let out a gasp at the way he sucked at her knuckles, before she shook herself free so she could reclaim her hand and undo his choker.

“What’s the matter, baby boy, hmmm? What’s all the fuss bout tonight, huh?”

She soothed his forehead with her fingers, cracking her neck as she steadied herself on his lap. The texture of his blue, gaberdine suit was soft underneath her bare thighs.

“Ah, nothing honey, jus the doggone back up singers can’t take a joke. Walked off in the middle of the set, make me look like a damn clown.”

Becky steadied herself.

“I find that hard to believe. Don’t look like a clown to me. If anything,” she begun to unzip his jumpsuit, her hands smoothing over the cool sweaty, hair she found there as she pushed against his belly. “If anything, they’re the ones who look foolish. Walking off like that.”

Elvis' lip hung down, just the slight hint of a double chin grew there, before they widened into a smile, pushing the apples of his cheeks up towards her.

“Ya sweet honey, ya know that? Wait, whatcha doin’ woman?”

Becky giggled as she pulled off his belt, and leaned into smell his chest.

“I am undressing you, Elvis Presley. Shower time.”

He tried to dismiss this idea with a wave of his hand.

“Honey, I don’t need a shower.”

“Oh yes you do.” Becky rubbed her hands under Elvis’ jumpsuit, trying to push it off his shoulders. “When was the last time you took a shower, you stinky boy.”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Uh, uh, uh -”

“Ha, if it is taking that long to answer, it has been tooo long.” She jumped up, and went to start the water. Elvis stood, bringing her back against the bathroom wall.

“Think you can come in here, and order me around, huh?” He smirked. “I like how I smell. Smell like a man. S'natural, s'way God made me.”

“Good little boys.” Becky worked her hands back under his suit. “Who take good little showers.” She got the fabric off the side of his shoulders. “Get good little rewards.”

He stilled her hands, enveloping her with his scent, a staunch mix of sweaty musk doused with a bottle or two of brut. Becky wrinkled her nose.

“And what about bad little boys who do what they want, huh?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “They get loved on until they learn to behave.” And she began to kiss his chest and neck with a swift barrage of pecks.

“Alright, alright crazy woman. What’s my reward, then, huh?”

Becky pulled her dress off with a speed that made Elvis' head spin, but before he could make a snarky remark, she bent over to take off her boots, and all he could do was stare at her bottom as she motioned for him to unclasp her bra.

“Your reward is me. In the shower. Washing you.”

Becky giggled self consciously as she took Elvis’ hands and drew him into the shower. She didn’t know where her chutzpah had come from, all she knew was that when she was with him, she was a woman transformed. Her walls came down, and she wanted to be as close as possible to him, do whatever she could to put him at ease. Being around Elvis had warped her entire way of thinking.

The way his smirk rippled across his cheeks as he watched her lather up a wash cloth and start scrubbing over his hair chest made her tummy feel funny. Like she was about to jump off a diving board. She watched the soap drizzled down over his waist and down his happy trail. Becky swallowed hard, unable to stop herself from rubbing over it with her hand and wiping the soap into different shapes around his belly button. A triangle, a circle, a heart.

Elvis chuckled as he squeezed his eyes shut under the water, letting it rinse everything off as he muttered that she was a weirdo. Then he took the wash cloth from her hands and spread the lather over the top of her breasts. Back and forth, as if mesmerized. His attentive gaze made her vibrate, and Becky’s nipples became hard nubs. She pushed his hand aside, stepping close to rub the soap from her bosom against him, playfully.

“I think they’re clean.”

“Never can be too sure.” He pulled her closer, nudging his nose over hers as he took the washcloth back and began to caress her butt. “Just bein’ thorough. Wanna a get all my reward.”

“Your reward was me washing you, not the other way around.”

Elvis winked. “I’m renegotiatin’.” And he carefully turned Becky around so that she was leaning into the shower wall, while he slowly moved the washcloth over her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her bottom cheeks and the backs of her legs. His movements were so soft and tender, that they made all the thoughts drain from Becky’s head with the water. Her knees turned into jelly.  And all she knew was the warm sensation vibrating up her spine and tingling between her legs.

It was 3:45 am when they finally collapsed into the master suite’s large, king bed in matching pajamas. Becky could rest assured that every part of her body was clean, and while she hadn’t scrubbed him behind his ears, she had done her best with Elvis.

He had taken the cute, sexy pink fluffy negligee she had brought to sleep in from her hands, and thrown it in the trash, reiterating that just because they were on the road, they were never safe from commie drug dealers. Arsonists. Assassins. Any number of dangerous threats that could result in an instant need to evacuate the hotel.

“Trust me, Becky, you’ll be greatful ya wearing something decent if that happens.”

Becky rolled her eyes, saying to herself that Elvis was worse than her grandmother. But she obliged and reasoned that Elvis’ pajamas were probably more comfortable than the gauzy peignoir she had brought. The she settled back, watching him take his medication from the black, doctor’s bag, before folding her arms around him when he snuggled up and lay his head on her breasts,  murmuring to her in a low, babying tone.

“Aw Becky, don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t come.”

She stroked his soft, dyed hair, shhhing him as she smiled to her self at the hint of grey she saw at the peak of his right side burn.

“You’d be fine, you always are.”

“Nah, honey, none a these fools love me for who I really am. None of them would be here if it weren’t for the money.”

“That’s not true, your friends love you. They’ve known you all your life.”

“Nah uh, they don’t, baby. No one loves me. You might be the only one in the whole world who doesn’t want anything from me. Won’t take my goddamn money, even when I mean it as a gift. Because I do love givin’ gifts.”

Becky trailed her fingers across Elvis’ forehead, enjoying the way his warm skin felt under her knuckles. “I know you do. You really do.”

“But no one appreciates it, they just want more. Won’t be happy til they suck me dry. Ugh, I don’t know if I can even sleep, so keyed up about the band.”

Becky kissed his forehead, as an idea percolated, and she rose from the bed to grab The Hobbit from her purse.

“Here, why don’t I read to you, take your mind off things?”

Elvis’ took the book ins hand. “This the book Spock was singing about?”

Becky giggled, thinking of Leonard Nimoy’s record few years back. “I believe the song you are referring to is ‘The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.’ And yes, it was inspired by this book. But I know you've heard of The Hobbit, Elvis. Have you ever read it?”

Elvis shook his head, but before he could protest that he didn’t read children's books, she brought his head back to her bosom and began reading it, doing the voices the same way she did with Ruth. They passed out at some point in the “Roast Mutton” chapter,  after pausing from time to time debating what their hobbit names would be.

“I think you are probably too tall to be a hobbit, Elvis, probably more an elf. Your name is practically the same as their language.”

“Well, that don’t make sense, no one names their kid after a language. English. Spanish. This is ma son, German. So then, what do you ’spose my elf name would be?”

Becky yawned. “I guess that will be our proooooject over the next few days, figure out what our hobbit and elf names are.”

“Guesss sooooooo.” Elvis yawned back.

**********************************************************

Becky found her paperback copy of The Hobbit open and smashed between them where Elvis had fallen asleep with his head on top of her chest. Several pages were bent back, and she tried to get them straight by bending them the other way, before deciding to put the lamp on top of it with the hope it would weigh them back into place. The room was still so dark, it surprised her to see that the clock read one p.m. It had been five or six when they passed out, and Becky could hardly believe how quickly she adapted back to Elvis’ schedule.

Looking down at him, she returned to cuddle into him, thinking how sweet he looked with his mouth wide open, asleep, completely unperturbed about the weight of the world that he carried on his shoulders. Then, as she shimmied her legs next to his, she felt the distinct, outline of an erect penis. I guess he slept well, she thought, and suddenly felt an aching tingle light up between her legs and a naughty thought enter her mind. Becky bit her lip, wondering how to wake him up without making it obvious. She began to nestle her knee into his cock, then blow air over his eyelids, faintly at first as she watched his long eyelashes flutter and waited to see if it woke him. When he remained asleep, she blew harder, emptying her lungs, until she saw his eyelids move and he opened one eye, with a blank, confused, slightly drugged out stare. This prompted her to plop back, not so stealthily, and pretend to be asleep herself. She also stopped moving her knee over his penis. Sleeping people don’t do that.

“Ha, now watcha think ya doin, Becky Butt?”

Elvis narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. A chuckled escaped Becky’s mouth, and her hand replaced her knee to slowly sweep over the outline of Elvis’ length, teasing his tip with the swirl of her thumb. Elvis seemed to instinctively move back up against the pillows, while also trying half-heartedly to swat away her hands from his pajama bottoms as she moved her head to his crotch.

“Now, honey, you’re a good girl, good girls don’t do that.”

Becky pulled at his waist, leaning down to nuzzle against the silk over his thigh, looking up and batting her lashes.

“Baby, you’ve been so stressed out, this tour got you all worked up. I’m just trying to help you relax and clear your head, so you can figure out what you want to do about your band.”

Elvis released her hands from where he had stopped them at his pants, and flopped back against the head board, resigned and moaning as her hand feathered over him. He closed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Lord have mercy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

Becky did a wiggly, little triumphant dance as Elvis shook his head, grinning as she pulled his pants down and very slowly and reverently bent down to kiss the tip, savoring the way his breath became heavier as she did. He bit his lip watching her look at him as she swirled her tongue around his foreskin where it now crested back above the head. In a leisurely, affectionate way, she moved her tongue hesitantly around him, using one hand to loosely palm up and down his shaft as she sucked the tip once more. Kissing it delicately, relishing how sensitive he was, how even just moving her mouth down an inch made his leg jolt. She laughed onto his cock when his knee knocked her head, and she looked up to see a warm, boyish smile beaming back down at her.

“Hey now, be gentle with him. He's, uh, he's, ughhhh, he's shy.”

Becky smiled as best she could up at him with a penis in her mouth, and worked to just move along the end of the foreskin to the top of the head, waiting as he moved her hair to guide her forward. His gasps sent a sharp ping to her core and Becky realized that the sound of Elvis’ hushed pleasure was like an aphrodisiac that she wanted to chase. And chase it she did, hollowing her cheeks to bob further down, seeing how far she could go with out gagging, seeing what happened when his tip hit the back of her throat, savoring the feeling of how it almost choked her.

His mouth now hung open, and he let out a loud moan as she delved deeper with the next thrust. Looking, she saw that his eyes were squeezed shut  and his mouth hung open, the bottom lip shaking tremulously as she began to speed up her tempo, following her mouth with her hand and breathing through her nose as she tried not to gag when she plunged downward. Then she felt Elvis grip her hair with a tight fist.

“Ah honey, oh Becky, oh honey, Imma about to burst!”

She watched his face contort as she nodded her acquiescence and continued to move her mouth over him, possessing him and at the same time giving herself to him as he arched his back up into her and came with a loud, breathy, high pitched cry. He was tangy, and salty, and she looked at him with a seductive wink as she flipped her hair and tried to swallow it all, before gagging and coughing most of it out of the side of her mouth and onto the duvet. This performance was followed by loud belly laughs from both parties as Becky rolled over in a fit of giggles at her clumsy attempt to be sexy. She hid under the pillows and blushed when Elvis moved over, threw the pillow away, and pulled her onto him with a goofy smile.

“Ya sure are sumpthin', Becky Butt. Man ‘o’ man." He sighed, stroking her shoulder. "Haven’t done anything like that in a while. Prolly since last time I saw you.”

“Elvis, you don’t have to lie to me, I see the photos of you with your other girlfriends on tour.”

He sucked in a deep breath, taking her chin to look up at him.

“You mean that girl I invited on tour after you turned me down? Honey, she don’t mean a thing, just someone to keep the bed warm. Wasn’t getting busy with her, tell you that.”

Becky arched her eye. “Really?”

“Mmmmhmmm. She is pretty, but she don't turn me on, not like you, baby. You’re my little snake charmer, member? And man, honey, every time too. Something special bout you. Gonna need you to come on the rest of the tour with me." His arm dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed and Becky realized he must be thinking about the tour. "Fuck, man, gotta figure out what to do bout these singers, goddammit. I don really wanna train new gals to sing, with only a few nights left.”

Becky patted his arm. “So don’t. Just apologize.”

A nervous squeak escaped her throat when she saw his lips purse and his eyes narrow in disbelief at her suggestion.

“You don’t have to mean it! I believe you were right, they are being bitches. Baby, trust me, you know how singers can be, premadonnas. And they are women. You can’t win with us. But you can know in your heart that you were joking, and also do what needs to be done to keep the show going by mending fences. S’easier to catch more flies with honey, E.”

Becky felt like a traitor to her fellow womankind, as she felt fairly certain that whatever had happened, the back up singers probably had every right to be upset. But the end justified the means, right? Her reasoning seemed to have some effect, as Elvis' pinched lips released and he grunted.

She watched as he looked at her, and repeated "easier to catch more flies with honey" in a high, mocking voice, while he rolled over and picked up the phone, asking the operator for Joe’s room. “Get Lowell on a plane, tell him to bring everything in the store. I don’t care, jack, do you work for my daddy? No, that’s what I thought, huh. Yeah, Imma have Felton take it all over to the girls, to everyone, tell them I know things got outta hand this week, let’s leave it in the past. Oh, and I wanna get Myrna a new Caddy, so she knows what loyalty means to me.”

Elvis was patting Becky’s thigh as he did this, his fingers playing a rhythm only he knew. But it made Becky feel special, needed, close to him, and she found a strange contentment just being there, receiving the song his body was tapping out. After he hung up, he called room service and asked them to send two of everything from the breakfast menu, explaining he didn’t care if it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Ever been Asheville, ha, honey?”

“MMmhmmm. No, can't say I have. Guess we'll have a few days there to figure out what our hobbitses names are.”

“Already know what your’s is. Becky Bobbit.” He grinned wide at her quizzical face. “Cuz you bobbit so good on my nobbit.”

Becky hit him as he burst into a fit of giggles. “Dirty, nasty, mean man.”

“Awww, honey, s’compliment. Wanna keep you round with me always, my lil bobbit hobbit.”

“Ha.”

“Comin’ to Memphis after the tour?”

“Elvis - I -”

“I thought we were talkin’ bout getting you moved up there. You will love it."           

“I will hate it.”

“Nah, you won’t.”

“Hmmm, you might be sick of me after the next few days.”

Elvis squeezed his arm around her tighter, looking down at the stain on the duvet, and then back at her with a silly smile.

“Nah, I won’t.”

***************************************************

For fun...

Thanks for reading.... argh. Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. Comments, reblogs and feedback are very much loved and appreciated.

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[spacejellycreates]

i didnt put this in the notes on the actual fic because its quite a long story, but i wanted to talk about it somewhere so ill do it here

my fic, Banter or Bullying, is based on an actual interaction i had with some of my close friends who i live with. our friend group has that dynamic where we all make fun of each other, but one person in particular seems to take the brunt of it. he gets made fun of more often and more harshly than other people seem to, despite being a lovely person (albeit with a few annoying habits, but everyone in this house has some, including me. thats just part of being human.)

basically, i was having a meltdown in my bedroom. i forget exactly what it was about, i think i was just having a bad time and something sent me over the edge. i find that distraction is the best technique to comfort me during a meltdown, so i went downstairs to see if anyone was in the living room and could take my mind off things for a bit, and this particular friend was the only one in there. he was sitting on the couch playing like. a star wars video game. it was like a military tactics simulator or something. idk, not really my thing.

i sat down next to him and he could see i was upset, so he offered to put the game away so we could talk about it but i was like no thanks can i just watch you play? so he said sure, and he let me sit with my head on his shoulder while he explained everything he was doing in the game. i didnt understand most of it, but it made me feel better just to sit with him and listen to him talk

then one of my other flatmates walked past, and she was like oh no hes trapped you in an explanation of his star wars game, blink twice if you need help, etc. and that upset me because i was like, no, i like spending time with him, hes making me feel better right now and actually being really nice to me, and you're just being mean for no reason, acting like im being held against my will or something

and i may be projecting, but i feel like spock gets treated a very similar way, especially by mccoy. it hurts my heart to see an autistic coded character be treated the same way as my friend, and the same way as a lot of neurodivergent people i know when they try to talk about their interests, or even just exist in a way that makes sense for them, and they constantly get negative comments about it.

so i wrote that fic as kind of. a way to express my affection for my friend, and also for spock. and to stick up for spock the way i did for my friend in that moment. no one deserves to feel like their friends dont care about their interests, or even that their friends dont like spending time with them.

i guess, moral of the story, if you have a friend that gets made fun of more than everyone else, make sure to check in with them every once in a while. ask if they're actually having fun when you're bantering with them or if it is hurting their feelings. and if you ever think a joke is going too far, say something. its nice to know that someone is in your corner

[gaslysainz]

Lost (PG10) pt4

Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.

warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, explicit scenes and languages.

Author's Note~ Heya guys! I present to you the 4th part of my fanfic. I'm overwhelmed by the response ❤️ Really Thanks a lot to everyone who had liked the story so far. Something's have started to cook. Hope you look forward to it. Love You All 😘 Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".

This one's a filler chapter, so please bear with me.

Something completely different happened today. A knock at my door woke me up from my 1 hour nap which has unfortunately turned into a 3 hour nap. I stood up from the bed and opened the door only to find my husband standing there and running a hand through his curls. Oh! What a sight! He looks like a Greek God.

"Hey! Did you need something? I'm sorry I fell asleep, also you can come inside"

He thanked me and entered my room, this is completely new. But nonetheless, I had to take a chance. He was looking around the room and the pictures hanging on the walls. His eyes stuck to one picture in particular. A picture captured by Pierre's mom of Isaac, Pierre and myself. It was Halloween and Isaac wanted to be a Vampire and on the other hand Pierre and Me were Romeo and Juliet. He was 6 and I was 4! We did not even know who Romeo and Juliet were! It was because of the elders who had insisted on these costumes! Oh! What I'd give to have those days back.

"You need something?"

"Ah! No, um actually yes, I have to attend an event with the rest of grid tomorrow. And you have to come with me. So be ready by 7pm tomorrow, will you? Wear something nice. I'll send someone with dresses for you to choose today in the evening. Just pick something from there."

There it is! Like I've mentioned before, he only remembers me when he needs something or needs to go somewhere to show off the world our so called amazing married life. *Scoff* But I'm not mad, at least I'll be able to meet HIM after so many days. The only person who happens to care even a little bit for me. Who always greets me with a beautiful smile on his face. A friend? Nope, he's like an angel for me.

I really hope everyone gets a friend like him!

" *Cough* *cough* You there?"

" Oh yea! I'm sorry, I was a bit distracted. Umm, Why don't you take Julia with you? I'm sure she would love to accompany you and also I'm sure she has several dresses in her wardrobe already. Won't even have to buy a dress last minute"

The look Pierre gave me after I mentioned Julia simply yelled 'ARE YOU CRAZY'. I mean I knew why he wouldn't take Julia, but I just find a different kind of satisfaction by reminding it to him.

"Um, I'll be ready tomorrow. Don't worry. By the way, where's Julia?"

"I sent her home, no need for her to stay here for these two days, either way we'd be busy. It'll only distract us."

Oh well! That was odd! Distract us from what exactly? Sometimes this man leaves no tables unturned to confuse me to no end. Anyways. I know better now than to crack my brain over these things. It's actually useless cause I won't get anymore clear answers from him than this.

"Any specific colour that I need to keep in mind while choosing the dress?"

"Not that I'm aware of, just keep it a bit formal. I'll get going. If Julia calls or comes asking for me, just tell her I've been out for a meeting since morning."

And then he rushed out the door, not before checking our childhood photo once again. Okay! That was highly confusing! I mean why was he avoiding Julia? Or am I reading too much between the lines? No one knows. I better go eat something until then.

But still, I'm a bit lost here.

LOST in confusion.

PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️

@peachiicherries @crimeshowjunkie @oblomovissad @torossosebs @janeholt3

[andromeda-nova-writing]

You and Me, Mercy in Between

Vampire! Ayato x Fem! Witch! Reader

Summary: Sleep is a precious thing and Y/N misses it. You know those times when you are so tired that your thoughts go all over the place and get a little too much to handle? Ayato is great at leading Y/N's brain into something that's too much for her with such a lack of sleep. Luckily he's also smart enough to know when to stop pushing someone so far especially when likes their company.

A prequel fic for Willingly Within Your Grasp. You can read this in any order for now

Words: 2,304

AN: Everyone thank @milkstore for keeping my brain rot going through this au and editing/reviewing this fic. Also for naming this fic. I have so many ideas and lore I've come up with for this au. I just have so many thoughts about this au. There's so much I want to expand on to the point I started writing the third part already.

This fic is T-rated. Typical vampire behavior. Mentions of blood and animal death. Mentions of main character death with none occurring

It had been a long week for Y/N. She had never been a big festival person before. It didn't help this week was ending with Ayaka accidentally touching some silver earrings cause she thought they would be a nice gift for Y/N. She was lucky Thoma was with her for quick damage control. Even then casting a spell changing someone's memory of the incident sucked. It was her least favorite part of the job.

First came finding out exactly who and everyone who may have witnessed the incident. Then came the disguise spell so not a soul would know who she was. Finally the memory shift. It sucked to do and sucked to have happened. The things she would do for the Kamisato clan.

In came the knock at her door. Did no one read the do not disturb sign? She only put it up for important potion-making. Even though she was lying on the bed trying to get any bit of rest before she had to actually get up and work. A second knock at the door.

"Who is it?" She yelled. "I'm busy at the moment." An understandable lie with the lack of sleep she had over the week.

"It's me. Can I come in real quick?" Thoma asked gently.

She sat up. "Come in." She pulled a blanket around her body. Her sleep schedule was so ruined it was going to mess up her brain.

He came in, took one look at her, and winced.

Y/N frowned. "Thanks for the confidence boost. Needed that."

"Sorry. Lord Kamisato requested your presence. We also are low on blood. You are going to have to make the blood replacements again." The apology in his voice was just too evident as he spoke clearly feeling sorry about having to give her more tasks.

"How far off are you from learning those incantations?"

He laughed awkwardly. "The pronunciation is still confusing me. I could always go fishing if that helps."

"That would. I appreciate it." It was hard to remain upset at Thoma for interrupting her first break in a while. The fish fix wouldn't be perfect but it would help the situation out. "Tell him I'll be there soon."

"Will do." And with that, he left leaving her back into the darkness of her room.

Y/N got up and went over to move the blackout curtain to see what time of day it was. Sunset. Ayato couldn't have slept until actual nightfall for her sanity at least. She looked down at her bedclothes. It still looked like they were just put on. The wrinkles of sleep were deeply missed.

After throwing on a robe over clothes she made her way over to Ayato’s office. He would have to find a way to deal with the fact that she would be returning to her bed immediately after. She knocked on the door of his office before letting herself in.

“You wanted me?” As much as she found herself enjoying his presence, she hoped that this would be quick.

He didn't even look up from the mountain of paperwork in front of him. "How's the situation with jeweler?" 

"Dealt with along with everyone nearby who may have seen. Ayaka's hand should be fully healed by now. I should be checking on her soon." 

"Good. Have a drink sent my way. I've seem to find myself trapped in here once again."

"We are out. Thoma is out fishing to help offset our supply till we can manage to find something bigger. If you give me 10 minutes I can go make a blood substitute." It was already on her to-do list anyway. Sleep was not to be had after all. 

"How long has he been out?"

"Not long. You'll have to wait if you want something fresh."

He placed the pen in his hand down looking up at her. "Is there any way you can actually make that substitute taste good?"

"Afraid not. Any changes to its flavor profile would ruin its ability as a substitute."

"Any other options?"

"We've been over this." It was too early or was it too late for this? Either way, she did not have the appropriate amount of sleep in her system for this. "It's to be from an animal or the substitute. What happened last month was because there was nothing near us and I couldn't make a substitute."

"Details. So we are allowed to talk about it now?" 

"I never said that we could speak on it." She looked away from Ayato. She felt hyper-aware of her wrist. Just the mention of it made the memory feel like it just happened. When she blinked it was like she could see Ayato sinking his teeth in while looking directly at her eyes trying to gauge when to stop.

It was the only time she had let someone drink from her before and the first time he had human blood. Circumstances be damned at this point. For two people struggling to maintain some sort of professionalism, it was the most intimate they had been. And they loved every second of it.

It hadn't left Y/N’s mind. Any dreams she could recall had Ayato in them. What she would never tell him is how she imagined Ayato’s teeth on her neck. It was such a crude way to think about someone who was her boss. That and she couldn't believe that she was way more into such an act than she thought would ever be.

Everything anyone told her growing up was that vampires were dangerous. Blood suckers that only looked out for themselves. If she found herself in the company of one, it was kill or be killed. Maybe the information she got was biased. Her mother had been a hunter who got herself killed by a vampire when she was young. 

"Pity. Come sit with me while I wait." It was such a simple task he had asked of her. But knowing Ayato, there had to be something more.

"Where?" It wasn’t like there was a spot in the room where she could actually sit next to him as he worked.

"The desk. You could hand me my papers as I need them." He said with such a straight face.

She sighed not even having to ask if he was serious or not. "What happened to having me check on Ayaka?" 

"That can wait. She should be resting anyway. You should keep me company. Wouldn't it be best to keep an eye on a hungry vampire?" He teased.

Y/N went over to his desk and sat down holding the pile of papers on her lap as he requested. Professionalism be damned. She sighed, "If you really were a problem, it's not like I couldn't stop you. I could have you chained down within a minute. I was raised to do just that."

"That's how you would stop me. With chains?"

"My aunt, she took me under her wing. She introduced me to this world and taught me everything she and my mom knew. And that included killing vampires. I was only talking about ways to restrain you. Summoning chains is only one of the methods."

"And if that didn't work?"

"Seal off the room. Pray that I don't have to use other restraints. Could get painful." Too many of them involved fire. Too many methods risked so much. "I'd rather not talk about anything I'd have to do to you if I'd ever had to stop you."

"Why would that be?"

"If I can't restrain you and you are still a problem, all that's left is to kill you." She looked up at the ceiling. The silence of night making itself aware. "I would prefer not to have to take your life. Honestly, it would be quite heartbreaking."

"Hm." It wasn't every day that someone who had trained to kill a vampire found that exact task heartbreaking.

"I don't think I could face Ayaka and tell her. Knowing her, I would have to be ready to kill her as well. Probably Thoma as well. You all are just too close. You've been nothing but good to me. Don't make me think such things." It was hard to be strong within her words. "If it was anyone else I could do it. But you haven't killed anyone. Most vampires I have encountered have already become serial killers. You don't deserve that same fate."

All Ayato could do was listen. Maybe he had pushed too far. He only went as far as he normally would. Maybe her boundaries weren't to be tested while she was tired. She fought tears gracefully as she imagined a life he would be sure to make not happen. It made her feel sick. She traced symbols on the desk subconsciously completely unaware that she had begun casting a spell of deception upon her appearance.

"I see every spark of humanity within you every day. To think of a day where you've lost it becoming a monster must mean I've failed along the way. You, everyone around us, and myself. If I were to have that happen I think my whole view on vampires would crash on me."

"And what's that view?"

"To be taught every single vampire is a killer and then to take a chance thinking that maybe what I learned was wrong is right would just be the worst. And if were to fail to kill you then I’d be granting you a fate worse than death." If it wasn’t her who put a stop to it then someone else would come along after who knows how long with no mercy of the situation. Archons forbid it wasn’t anyone in the estate that would have to clean up the mess she would have left behind. 

Ayato was careful in moving the papers off of her lap back onto the desk to not interrupt what she was telling him.

“It would just be awful to have to kill the man I’ve been falling in love with for the better part of the year. Just saying that must I’ve compromised my ability to work here.”

He had stood up able to meet her eyes directly now. He grabbed onto the hand that had silently casting a spell stopping it from being performed. Her face had been stained with tears showing how deeply she had meant it when she said she had been falling in love with him. How intensely these thoughts and backup plans had killed her inside. Ayato brought a hand up to her face wiping away the tears he was unable to see before.

“It must be horrible to fall in love with me if I’ve already made you cry with these thoughts.”

“I made myself cry.”

“With things I shouldn’t ask you to think of.” 

“I would have to think of them by myself anyway.” She had been since she accepted this job offer that Thoma had brought along to her.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“If it makes you so upset, don’t think of it anymore.”

“It would be irresponsible. This is irresponsible.”

“Why don’t we just be a little irresponsible together for once?” It was a question that pushed away all formalities. To ignore all professionalism. It was better to ignore what was wrong and focus on what felt so right. Boundaries that had been set up right to fall with a single crash.

Soft kisses on a cheek turned into kissing away tears turned into kisses on the lips. Slow and sweet as if to make up for what had happened. Apologies without words were made before becoming promises to one another. Which managed to change yet again to something more passionate with hands running up and down each other begging to be closer to each other. Before finally stopping for air leaning foreheads against one another satisfied with the outcome.

“Are you any better?” Ayato’s voice was soft, and gentle almost if a pin would drop on the floor it would be too harsh against the ears.

“A bit,” She sighed. “I think I’m just exhausted.”

“Exhausted? We haven’t been working you that hard have we?”

Y/N leaned as far back as she could while being held. “I was running on 3 hours of sleep and as many 10-minute naps as I could throughout this week. I think my bags have bags.”

“I guess we should get you back to bed then.”

“What happened to wanting me to keep an eye on you?”

“You could have requested a day off. I would have given it to you.”

“I know but there were things that had to get done. There are things that have to get done now. I’m already up so I might as well do them.”

His face was filled with judgment. As overworked as he was even he knew better. “Maybe it would have been better for you to have checked on Ayaka first. She’d at least lecture you about this without sounding hypocritical.”

“You aren’t wrong about that. And if it isn't her who calls us out it's only a matter of time before Thoma plans something where you are forced to sit and relax.”

She laughed for the first time in a while. Letting the joys of life take over. “It is quite nice finding people who remind you of the value of taking a break.”

“Were you not one for breaks?”

She sighed. “They weren’t encouraged. My aunt, she was nice but she was always worried about our safety. I just pray you never meet her. She may think I'm not here of my own accord.”

“Don’t think of it for now. You did enough worrying over me today.” He took some steps back pulling Y/N off of the desk. “Let’s just get you back to bed for now.”

[lokisgoodgirl]

Sexual Apocalypse Society (SAS) FAQ

Thanks to @lovelysizzlingbluebird for jokingly suggesting an FAQ. However hopefully it will be useful in future 😁 #SAS Supremacy

What is the SAS?

The SAS stands for Sexual Apocalypse Society. What started as whispers of a mysterious cult became an unofficial band of thirsty Loki posters who just tagged each other in things that make your brain seize up for a second in pure desire and then explode all over the keyboard.

But really, what is it?

That's literally it. It’s a bunch of Loki writers/ readers/fans who enjoy thirsting at length about hot AF Loki Laufeyson and his mortal counterpart, Tom Hiddleston.

This can be in the form of Asks sent to ‘members’ with gifs/headcanons, reblog thirst trains, fic reblogs, old reblogs or pretty much anything. Nothing is safe.

There is an undercurrent of world domination in Loki's name prior to his return to the realm.

How do I join the SAS?

If you want in, you're in.

There is no tag-list. There is no exclusivity. The SAS is free for anyone to join in and voice your mighty appreciation for the god of sex mischief so don't be shy. Everyone's real nice.

As there are so many regulars, sometimes it’s hard to keep track especially when it’s a quickly put out post, so please don’t be offended if you’re not tagged by someone and you think you should be.

It’s all a bit of fun. Just join in If you want to.

What’s all the stuff about the Mangos?

Eons ago, @thedistractedagglomeration brought to our attention the phrase ‘Pantsmango’ to describe TH/Loki’s crotch. This has snowballed somewhat into a full on feral worship of the Mango, both in crotch and actual Mango form as a symbol of devotion to our cause.

Are there rules?

Sure.

Be nice to everyone and be respectful of each other. If someone’s ideas within a thread inspire you to write something specific, check they’re happy for you to do so.

Accept the SAS headcanon that upon his arrival to Midgard, there will immediately be enough Loki copies for all of us. It is known.

Let me know if anyone has any very important additions/addendums to this lil FAQ 😁🍆

Lots of ❤️

LGG x Previous Meeting Minutes: (AKA notable thirst trains/hysteria for posterity) LCM & LGG do Soccer Aid (Live reblog chaos) Loki’s pubic hair (magical merkin) Unhinged at Loki being Loki - SAVE YOURSELVES The Re-enforced Gusset Legend of the Sentient Pants The SAS Badge (and motto) Tom's Innocent Picture and the Disappearing Panties Messing up a sexy Prince The erotic devastation of the jawline Fingers like Barbie Legs (Hand Appreciation) Tom Hiddleston’s Snakehips (Dancing) Sentient Leather Pants The Sluttiest Figurine Loki’s detachable phallus Counting Moles Banoir (The Brown Towel)