#done or could be used for things i enjoy more and just. i do really appreciate every single comment kudo and hit i get but also its very

[harrywavycurly]

Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?

Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖

Find all things Loving a Killer here✨

CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia

Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨

It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.

That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.

“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.

“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.

“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.

“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.

“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.

“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”

“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.

“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.

“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.

“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.

But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.

He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.

“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.

“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”

“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.

[creations-of-the-dreamlight]

I was inspired by @theoneandonlysourcandy’s The Doctor headcanons that I wanted to make a few for The Goop of All Time Doey (I’m totally copying you :3). Updated a bit and added some more.

🎩 He gives you the space you need to grow and learn, and they help from the sidelines and watch. He trust you on your own in the factory. They know what you’ve done and they respect how far you’ve come.

🎩 with ^^ being said, you often find them muttering to themselves about how worried they are about you. How much they wish they could keep you by their sides forever and never let you out of their sight

🎩 cold can be a big trigger for them due to The Doctors traps. Smetimes they will wrap a piece of dough around you- either entire body or just the smallest bit. He lies, saying he’s worried it’s too cold for you. But deep down both of you know they need your warmth.

🎩 Doey really enjoys music. When he isn’t doing his job as the guardian of Safe Haven, he likes to sing. You and them sometimes sing duets when you are patrolling together.

🎩 they have learned how to shape themselves perfectly to make the comfiest bed for you when you two are sleeping.

🎩 Doey pretty much has all the love languages except words of affirmation- most nice things are really a trigger to him. Being around you is different. You focus on action over words, and hardly speak. You’re not one of the ‘gentle voices’ to him.

🎩 Doey, as a personality, is a bit seperate from the three original kids. It’s not its own seperate personality, but kind of like a mask they put on that gained legs and can move on its own sometime. When you first met it was just this mask. You’ve gotten to know each one better.

⭐️ Jack is still a child at heart- and all he wants to do is play. When he’s with you he’s normally raring with energy. You either play with the other toys, play a game by yourselves, or read books together. You taught him how to make a chess board and then how to play it. He oftentimes falls asleep curled up around you while you read to him.

🍊 Even when it’s just him, and he has downtime, Matthew always has to be doing something productive. Deep down he feels bad- if anyone should have time to themselves, it’s Kevin and Jake- so he forces himself to ‘bring something to the table’ and be useful when he’s out. Nothing could deter him from this, so instead you just help him. Cleaning up, taking care of toys in medical, scrapping up food, you do it together. Your company means the world to him.

💥Kevin was the most suspicious of you. He held onto his suspicion for a long time. But who could blame him? He was the angry one, he was the one who had to snap on any potential danger. And they learned Everything was a potential danger. The first time you ever saw him on his own he was breaking down. For a moment he tried to fight you. But you’re more resilient than that. You toughed through and eventually got him to sit down. He sobbed in your arms for a long time. He doesn’t like to be out on his own, but when he is it’s normally with you, holding you in some way.

🎩 Jack eyes are more yellow when he’s front, Matthew’s orange, and Kevin’s red. If they are just Doey, their eyes are blank and hollow with no light in them.



Bonus one for my trans/gender fucky gang like me :3

🎩 They use their clay to help you with dysphoria (making different clothes, changing different parts of your body, helping to bind safely)

🎩 they spent months searching the factory for things to make comfortable clothes for you

🎩 Many of the toys only remember you from your time in the factory (pre-transition). Doey is gentle with those who don’t get and need to be explained, and fiercely defends you against anyone trying to be rude on purpose.

🎩 If they continue even after he told them off? Dinner is served, ig.

[hypnobeauty]

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 9)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, slow burn, sexual tension, mutual masturbation. NSFW, mdni. a/n: smutty chapter! the amount of times i've rewritten this chapter is honestly embarassing. i tried my best not to be objectifying and respectful! enjoy xx as usual, comments are always welcome (now it’s for real, school is back—i’m a teacher—so it might take a while to update) taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy

part 9. slow burn, steady flame

things with hyun-ju had always been slow when it came to physical intimacy. she was never shy about holding you, kissing you, pulling you close—but whenever things started to shift into something more, she would hesitate, pull back. you never pushed. you knew she wanted you just as much as you wanted her, but desire alone wasn’t always enough. she had her boundaries, her insecurities, and you never wanted her to feel anything less than completely safe with you.

you had talked about it before—really talked about it, without sidestepping the details.

one night, curled up together on the couch, she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “can i tell you something?” she asked, her voice soft.

“of course,” you said, squeezing her hand.

she exhaled through her nose, like she was gathering the words before speaking. “i know i always stop when things get… heated,” she said, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “it’s not because i don’t want to. i do.”

“i know,” you murmured.

she squeezed your fingers, her grip firm, grounding herself. “it’s just… my body doesn’t always feel like mine. most days, i’m fine, but sometimes, it sneaks up on me.” she swallowed, searching for the right words. “i get stuck in my head. it’s like… i want you to touch me, but at the same time, i don’t.”

you nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “that makes sense.”

she blinked. “it does?”

“of course,” you said, threading your fingers through hers. “you’ve been through a lot, hyun-ju. your body has been through a lot. it makes sense that some days it feels like home, and some days it doesn’t.”

she let out a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving. “you always make it sound so easy.”

you shrugged. “it’s easy to be patient when i care about you.”

her grip on your hand tightened slightly. “i just… i haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” she admitted. “more than a year, actually.”

that caught your attention. “more than a year?”

hyun-ju nodded, shifting slightly. “yeah. i mean, i started transitioning a year ago, but even before that… i hadn’t done anything with my ex for a while.”

at the mention of her ex, you couldn’t stop the small twinge of jealousy that flared up. “your ex, huh?”

hyun-ju glanced at you, immediately catching your tone, and smirked. “you’re not jealous, are you?”

“no,” you said too quickly, narrowing your eyes. “i just didn’t know you had an ex.”

she let out a small laugh. “it’s not that interesting. it was over before i even started transitioning. she wasn’t a bad person or anything, just… we weren’t right for each other.”

you studied her for a moment. “did she—was she supportive?”

hyun-ju hesitated. “not really.”

that answer was enough for you to understand. you let out a breath, swinging your leg over her lap and sitting on it, so you could face her properly. “well, for the record, i’d like to formally apply for the position of ‘right person for hyun-ju.’ i think my credentials are pretty solid.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. “you’re such an idiot.”

“but a lovable idiot,” you pointed out, leaning towards her and giving her a light peck on her lips.

“the most lovable,” she admitted, brushing her nose on yours.

there was a moment of quiet, warm and safe. then she spoke again, softer this time. “i do want you,” she said. “i think about it. a lot. more than i should, probably.”

you smirked, “oh? how often is ‘more than you should’?”

she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “aein, don’t make me say it.”

you pried her hands away, laughing softly. “hey, i like knowing you think about me.”

hyun-ju exhaled, “ i just want to be ready. i want to feel good when it happens.”

you reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “then we’ll wait until you do. no rush.”

she searched your face for a second before sighing, a small, lopsided smile forming. “you’re going to combust, aren’t you?”

you groaned, dramatically flopping to the side. “hyun-ju, i’m dying here.”

she laughed, the sound light and teasing. “patience, aein.”

you turned your head toward her, smirking. “no promises.”

she rolled her eyes, but the way she squeezed your hand told you everything you needed to know. she kissed you then, slow and grateful, and you knew she believed you.

it was another two months before you saw her fully bare for the first time. by then, you had settled into the routine she had pulled you into—early mornings at the gym, where she trained like it was second nature and you, well, tried your best. exercise was a necessity for you, something you did for your health, but for hyun-ju, it was something more. it was control, it was care, it was a way to feel strong in a body that had once felt like a cage.

and maybe, just maybe, it was her way of slowly letting you see her.

that day, after an intense session, she invited you to her place instead of heading home separately. it was casual, something you’d done before, nothing out of the extraordinary.

the apartment door clicked shut behind you two, the sound muffled by the weight of your exhaustion. you’d just finished a grueling workout at the gym, bodies slick with sweat, muscles aching but alive with that post-exercise buzz. you wiped your brow with the back of your hand, peeling off your damp tank top and tossing it over your shoulder. the sports bra clung to your body, the fabric damp and cooling as you stood there, gulping down a glass of water.

you caught hyun-ju staring, her eyes lingering on your body with a mix of admiration and something else… something that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

“enjoying the view, aein?” you teased, setting the glass down on the counter. her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away.

“yes,” she admitted, blushing. her gaze was unwavering, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like the static before a storm.

you stepped closer, closing the distance. your hands found her shoulders, then slid up to wrap around her neck. hyun-ju didn’t pull away, instead, she leaned into you, her body pressing against yours as you kissed her. it wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was hungry, desperate, like she’d been holding back for too long. 

“we’re all sweaty,” you said, breathless, when you two finally broke apart. you pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, feeling her sigh against you. “how about we clean up a little? a shower together might be nice.”

she bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “a shower… together?”

“mmhmm,” you murmured, my fingers tracing circles on her shoulder. “just being close, washing each other. nothing you’re not ready for. and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, we stop. promise.”

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “okay. i… you think i’d like that.”

this was it. after four months of dating, of stolen kisses and whispered promises, you were finally here. the thought made your stomach twist with a mix of excitement and nervousness. you wanted this—you wanted her—but you also knew how vulnerable she felt, how much this moment meant to both of us.the bathroom was softly lit, the warm glow of the overhead light making everything feel intimate and safe. you turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right—warm, but not too hot. steam began to rise, clouding the mirror and filling the space with a comforting haze.

she stood in front of you, her back turned to your front and you could see she was fidgeting with her hands–a habit she had whenever she was anxious or nervous. you reached for the hem of her shirt, pausing to ask her. “can i?”

she hesitated, then nodded again, her breath catching as you slowly lifted the fabric over her head.

then, her back still turned to you, hyun-ju pulled her sports bra off. you couldn't help but admire her body, the muscles of her shoulders and arms defined from years of workouts. she hesitated for a moment before turning around, and when she did, your breath caught in your throat.

her small, perky breasts were perfect, her nipples soft and blush, inviting. her belly was toned, faint abs visible beneath her smooth skin. she moved slowly, almost nervously, as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her jogging pants and pulled them down. her legs were strong and smooth, her hips narrow but feminine. she stood there in nothing but her white cotton panties, and you could see the outline of her half hard cock, tucked to the right, the shape of her balls visible beneath the fabric.

your pulse quickened as you stepped out of your shorts, then your panties, leaving yourself completely naked in front of her. she glanced down at me, her eyes dark with desire, and you saw her cock twitch beneath her underwear.

she reached for the waistband of her panties, her hands trembling slightly, and you held your breath as she pulled them down. her cock bobbed free, and you couldn’t help but stare. it was beautiful—perfectly shaped, the right length and girth, a vein running along the top, the tip pink and sensitive-looking. the hair around it was light, kept trimmed short, and her balls were round and shapely.

you took a step back, mouth watering, your hands groping blindly for the shower door as you kept your eyes locked on hers. she didn’t look away either, her gaze burning into you.

“come, aein,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “join me.”

she hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, her body trembling with anticipation. the shower was warm, the water cascading over us as you reached for her, pulling her close. you took hyun-ju's hand, leading her into the shower. the water cascaded over us, soothing, and you heard her let out a soft sigh as it hit her skin. you grabbed the bottle of body wash, squeezing a generous amount into your palm.

“turn around,” you said gently, and she obeyed, her back facing you. you started at her shoulders, your hands working the lather into her skin in slow, deliberate circles. she leaned into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as your fingers kneaded the tension from her muscles.

“that feels amazing,” hyun-ju murmured, her voice almost lost in the sound of the water.

you smiled, hands moving lower, tracing the curve of her spine. you washed her with care, taking time to explore every inch of her body, making sure she felt every touch, every caress. when you reached her hips, she tensed slightly, but you didn’t push, moving instead to her legs, kneading the muscles there until she relaxed again.

“your turn,” she said, turning around to face you. you handed her the body wash, and she took it, her hands trembling slightly as she squeezed some into her palm. she started at your shoulders, her touch tentative but growing more confident as she worked the lather into you skin. her hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if she were memorizing every curve, every dip of you body.

when she reached your breasts, she paused, her eyes flickering up to meet you. “can i…?”

“of course,” you whispered, your breath hitching as her hands cupped them, her thumbs brushing over your nipples. you let out a soft moan, head falling back as she explored the mounts, her touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

she leaned in, her lips capturing you in a hungry kiss, her hands still working their magic. you moaned into her mouth, your hands tangling in her hair as the water beat down on you, the steam making the air thick and heady.

when she pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, her breathing ragged. “i want to touch you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “all of you.”

you nodded, heart pounding in your chest. “anything. always.”

hyun-ju's hands moved tentatively to your thighs, sliding up to your hips, and then she dropped one hand lower, her fingertips grazing you clit. you gasped into her mouth, the sensation sending a jolt through you. god, she was good at this. her touches were tentative at first, like she was learning the rhythm of your body, but as you moaned softly, she grew bolder.

“is this okay?” she whispered, her voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

“yes,” you breathed, your hands moving to her shoulders, steadying yourself as her fingers began to circle you with more purpose. your head fell back, and you let out a breathy sigh, body responding eagerly to hyun-ju's touch. “just like that.”

hyun-ju's cheeks flushed at the praise, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. but even as she pleased you, her movements growing more confident, you could feel the tension in her body—the way she hesitated when you hand drifted lower, toward the part of her she still struggled to accept.

you stopped suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. her eyes were wide, almost scared, and kissed her again, softly, reassuringly. “can i touch you?” you asked, your voice steady but gentle. “please tell me if it’s too much.”

hyun-ju swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she processed your words. for a moment, she looked like she might pull away, but then she nodded, her voice barely audible. “y-yes. i want you to.”

your heart swelled at her bravery, at the trust she was placing in you. you kissed her once more, a slow, tender press of my lips to hers, before letting your hand drift lower. your fingers grazed her length, and she shuddered, her hips twitching involuntarily. she was already hard, her cock straining against your palm, and you could feel the heat radiating from her.

“you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, fingers wrapping around her gently. hyun-ju let out a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering closed as you began to stroke her slowly, the soap making every movement smooth and slick. her hips bucked into your hand, and you could feel the tension in her body beginning to unravel, her uncertainty giving way to pleasure.

“oh god,” hyun-ju whimpered, her hands gripping your waist tightly as you worked her. her breathing grew ragged, her body trembling under my touch, and you could tell she was close. the way she responded to you—every gasp, every shiver—was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but moan as her fingers continued to tease you, the dual sensations pushing you both closer to the edge.

“that’s it, aein,” you coaxed, your voice low and husky. “let go for me.”

her eyes snapped open, locking onto you, and something in her expression shattered. her orgasm hit her hard, her body convulsing as she came, her release spilling over your hand. the sight of her unraveling, her face twisted in ecstasy, sent you over the edge as well. your own climax crashed over you in waves, your legs buckling as you cried out her name.

you clung to each other, both shaking and gasping for air, the water from the shower still cascading down around you. her forehead rested against you, and you could feel hyun-ju smiling—small and hesitant, but genuine.

“that was…” hyun-ju started, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words.

“perfect,” you finished for her, brushing her wet hair from her face. “you’re perfect.”

she blushed furiously, burying her face in the crook of your neck, and you laughed softly, holding her close. we stayed like that for a moment, just breathing each other in.

“ready to get out?” you asked softly, brushing her hair back from her face.

hyun-ju nodded, her eyes still glistening. “yeah. but first…” she leaned in, capturing my lips in a slow, tender kiss. “i love you,” she whispered into your mouth. “so much.”

“i love you too,” you murmured, heart overflowing with emotion. “always.”

you stepped out of the shower, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver. you grabbed two towels, wrapping one around her and the other around yourself. she leaned into you, her body warm and soft against mine, and you held her close, lips brushing against her temple.

“let’s get cozy,” you whispered, leading her back to the bedroom. she nodded, her hand in you, and you knew that no matter what, you were in this together.

[evolnoomym]

🩵Wip Wednesday🩵

Well Hello everyone, after disappearing for a bit i thought it would only be appropriate to share all the recent wips. I’ve got some snippets and moodboards for y’all. Please enjoy 😉

Shoutout for the divider to @cafekitsune 🫶🏻

(As always, the snippets are nothing final and can still change)

First I’d like to introduce “Good Neighbor” a Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x F!OC Reader Fic, it’s inspired from my recent move in to my apartment.

You blink up at him, slowly, to look sexy and mysterious.

“You know,” you let your gaze drift down to his crotch, which is directly in front of you “as a thank you for being such a good and thorough neighbor you could test the bed with me?” You practically purr those words at him. But Joel is too much of a gentleman and still doesn’t take the hint.

“Darlin’ why would we need to do that? The mattress seemed pretty solid to me.” His friendly smile makes you want to punch him.

At this point you don’t know how much more clearer you’ll have to be. You had flirted with him all day, he even went along sometimes but then always returned to friendly chatter. You even question if you’re not pretty enough.

You had enough. “Joel,” you inhale and exhale dramatically to underline your frustration “I want to have sex with you, right fucking know, is that clear enough?”

He just stares at you for what feels like an eternity before slowing responding “Are you sure?”

Now you’re confused “What?”

“I mean you really wanna have sex with me?” As he’s pointing towards himself.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” Does he really not know how incredible hot he is?

Next up we have Valentine’s Day Joel Miller for the Bouquets of Pedro Creativity Challenge by @happypedrohours 💐❤️

It’s a sorta part 2 of Neighbor!Joel Miller and it takes us on their first “official” Date.

The morning after, there’s a knock at the door around 10 am. When you look through the peephole it’s Joel, so of course you open.

“Hello Neighbor,” you smile cheekily remembering the events from the previous day, whilst leaning against the door.

“Good Mornin’, hope ya slept well,” now he’s matching your expression, probably thinking of the same thing.

“Wanted to know if ya would like to have breakfast at mine, since, you know, you don’t really have a kitchen.” Suddenly he seemed all shy and nervous looking at the ground and rubbing his neck.

“It would be an honor to have breakfast with you, Joel” you murmur as you step closer to him.

Then I have some Joel Miller Angst for y’all to balance the romantic vibes out. It’s for Freya’s @almostfoxglove Angst Writing Challenge

I don’t want to say too much about this but I will hurt y’all for sure with this one and also myself. The title is : “Can’t Catch Me Now 🕊️”🫠😨

The Moodboard is provided by the wonderful Freya as well. 🙏🏻

Joel doesn’t even attempt to get up. He just watches you demolish his truck. You break all the windows, one by one with that bat of yours. Once you’re done, you turn around heading towards him. Joel is actually convinced you might kill him with how much anger is radiating off of you.

“Baby, please let’s just talk ‘bout it, just give me a chance to explain?” He’s pleading with you.

You kneel down in front of him and spit at him “Listen, you dumb motherfucker, you will never ever see me again. And if you don’t stay the fuck away I’m gonna ruin your fucking life.”

You lean in further and almost yell at him

“You hear me, I’m gonna end you Joel Miller.”

Afterwards you get up and walk away, leaving him there on the ground wallowing in self-pity.

Also say hi to Emotionally Constipated!FOC x Grumpy!Joel Miller. 🩵😉

“Uhh, sorry. Tell me again why you think this is a good idea?”

“He is your type, older, and I thought maybe you two would get along?”

You shake your head “No, I think you want me to date your boyfriend’s brother so we can go to those awful double-dates. Fuck no.”

Maria lets out an annoyed huff “Would it really be so awful to finally stop these power games and trust again?” She knows that you want to be loved but she also knows that you can’t let someone in on an emotional level. It’s too much.

As you make the order for everyone’s drinks at the bar it doesn’t take much longer and you catch a gruff, more weathered version of Tommy swagger in. It must be Joel. He isn’t unattractive but he looks like an asshole and that is your kinda guy. Those are the ones you have the most fun breaking down, they deserve it.

And last but not least a nice Dave York Summer-Angst Fic. For the “writing through the seasons challenge ☀️” hosted by @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality

You two provided a wonderful moodboard but I couldn’t stop myself from creating my own 🫶🏻🫶🏻

“I needed to have you, my perfect, special and gorgeous girl. You are all mine.” To prove his point he holds up his hand, displaying the silver wedding band. Right, he married you, probably planned it all along to make it harder to get away from him.

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @thundermartini @encasedinobsidian @hellishjoel @pedrospookie @ozarkthedog @pedgito @punkshort @ace-turned-confused @sp00kymulderr @strang3lov3 @beefrobeefcal @penvisions @itsokbbygrl @burntheedges @sunshineispunk @tightjeansjavi @macfrog @toxicanonymity @chronically-ghosted @604to647 @syd-djarin @mountainsandmayhem @jeewrites @penascigarette @galway-girlatwork @amanitacowboy @mrsmando @pedrospatch @pedropeach @moonlitbirdie @ovaryacted @joeloverture @jolapeno @joelsdagger @sanarsi @cavillscurls @joelstummy @slimybeth69

[r4fe-cam3ron]

𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY FOURTH; side a — about you - the 1975 | d. lizewski x reader

w; dave & r is aged up (both in their twenties!), ‘old flames’ (really just best friends - who have lost touch but still remember everything about one another - to lovers) reunite, i sort of change the story about his dad (he’s still kick a—!) an; i had to change up his dad’s story about getting beaten </3 for the plot to work. i hope no one minds and everyone enjoys at least!!!!

mixtape here!

Your chin rests in the palm of your hands as your eyes glance around the restaurant, fingers slowly tapping against the table as you let out a small sigh. Leaning back, your eyes look down at your phone to check the time and to see if any messages have suddenly appeared. 

Nothing. And an hour late. 

Rubbing your forehead in embarrassment, you stand from your chair and ignore the looks from the many people who sit together with a stupid little red rose and stupid little candles. 

Slipping on your jacket, you quickly grab your clutch and make your way out of the restaurant without a single word to anyone. It’s eight now, and you’d gotten dressed up for nothing. 

You’re aimlessly walking around now — not quite ready to go home, yet not quite sure where to go either. 

Until you’re met with the sight of the familiar comic shop that you used to go to regularly with friends. You don’t go as much anymore — if you do, it’s strictly for a family member’s birthday or to stop by and get coffee, and maybe look to see what all has changed. 

Which, nothing has. It’s a bit brighter inside with new paint and new lights, but other than that, nothing else has changed. Stepping towards the counter, you smile at the teenager behind it. “One iced caramel latte, please.” 

She nods, putting in the order. “Anything else?” 

Glancing over at the case of pastries, you point at a muffin. “A blueberry muffin as well, please.” The girl nods once again, entering it before telling you the price. Handing over the cash, plus a tip for her being so nice — and for working on the suckiest holiday of the year — you step away after telling her your name. 

You walk slowly around the collection of comics, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. You wished you could go back to being a teenage girl — who had been constantly considered ‘weird’ — even if that meant figuring everything out once again. 

Part of you thinks that, maybe, if you would have the chance to go back, there’s a lot more you would’ve changed. Maybe admitted to others. 

The wave of nostalgia almost knocks you off your feet from the nausea it gives you suddenly. Shaking your head, you pick a superhero that you always gravitate towards — Spider-man. 

You pick up your treats from the counter and make your way towards a table, slipping into a booth and laying everything out before opening the comic book. 

You forget how much the silly little things can pull you in — you hadn’t realized the numbness in your legs, or that the ice in your drink had now melted, watering down the coffee and droplets had left a ring around it. 

Or that someone was in front of you. 

“I see you still get pulled into the pages.” 

Startled, you blink a couple of times and quickly look up at the man who stands in front of the table. Lips parting, your heart drops. “Dave?” 

He grins and nods. “The one and only.” 

Laughing slightly, you slip out of the booth and quickly pull him into a hug. “Oh, my god. Look at you!” You pull away, your hands gripping onto his biceps. “Your…hair! It’s gone!” 

He lets out a small chuckle. “And I hit puberty, finally. So you can’t laugh at me anymore about my squeaky voice.” 

You make a face at that. “Sorry about that.” 

“It was all done in fun,” His brow lifts slightly. “Wasn’t it?” 

“What? Of course it was,” You nod quickly, flushing under his gaze. “I’d never intentionally make fun of you.” 

His demeanor slightly falls before he lets out a soft chuckle. “I know that. I was only teasing,” His eyes fell into the red dress that you’d picked out specifically for today. “Hot date?” 

Looking down at the dress, you tug at the material. “No. Stood me up so I just left,” You shrug a bit. “It was embarrassing walking out to say the least.” 

“He stood you up? There’s no way,” He lets out a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whoever it is, is clearly missing out.” 

“You’re just saying that.” You roll your eyes, collecting your trash so he wouldn’t catch onto the redness that caught your cheeks aflame. 

“I’m being serious!” He watches as you toss the items, picking up the comic book. He follows behind you, lips pursing a bit before clearing his throat. “Let me take you out.” 

You stop abruptly, causing him to stumble into your back, his hands quickly shooting out to stabilize himself on your arms. “What?” 

“Would it be so weird?” He shrugs as you turn to face him. “You’re already dressed up. Plus, we were best friends,” Your eyes drop down to the ground at that. 

“You can let me take you out on one date. Then you can pretend I never exist again.” 

You frown and quickly look at him. “Dave, I could never forget you,” You shake your head, pinching your brows together. “You were…” Trailing off, your heart skips a beat in your chest as your eyes linger on his blue ones. 

“You were special to me. We just…fell out of contact, is all.” 

Dave nods and glances at the comic in your hand. He reaches out and slowly pulls it from your hand, slipping it back into its designated spot before holding his hand. “Then let me take you out. Just this once.” 

Glancing down at his hand, you place yours into his. He smiles and grips your hand softly, pulling you towards the door without a second thought. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, curiously. If he were to lead you blindly into a burning building, you don’t think you would’ve cared. 

He glances over at you, a small smile pulling at his lips as he shrugs. “For me to know.” 

“And for me to find out.” You sigh playfully, shaking your head. He chuckles and comes to a stop. 

“Wait here,” You watch as he jogs back, confused but you do as he had said, looking around at the busy street and sidewalk, smiling a bit at the loud laughter and singing coming from all around. 

Dave comes back five minutes later, hands behind his back. You turn and lift your brows, tilting your head. “Alright…you’re worrying me now.” That has him chuckling. 

He pulls his arm from behind his back, your smile dropping slightly as you stare at the flowers in his hand — that just so happens to be your favorite. 

He clears his throat a bit. “I remember you saying something about liking these. And I needed to start the date off right.” 

“I said those were my favorite in middle school, Dave—”

“Do you…not like these anymore? I can go and—”

You quickly cut him off. “No. I mean, yes. I still love them. I’m just…” You let out a small laugh, truly in awe about how he even remembered such a small detail about you. “I don’t know how you remembered those were my favorite.” 

He scratches at the side of his neck, shrugging. “I just remember.” 

You smile and gently pull them from his grip, the brown paper crinkling in your hands. “Thank you,” You stare at the petals before your eyes lift and meet his. “I can’t remember when the last time I got flowers was.” 

Never. 

The answer was simply never. No boy — or man, now — has stopped to get you flowers as a simple gift. Not that it’s a necessity to bring flowers to a date, but taking the time and showing you care… 

It’s something that, now you can admit, can make a heart skip a beat. 

He smiles softly and nods. “Yeah…” He clears his throat as he pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Of course. Yeah. I just…I thought it’d be nice.” 

“This was very nice,” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip slightly, the action having his blue eyes drop for a second before looking back up. “Well, Lizewski, lead the way.” 

He smiles a bit and nods, beginning to walk down the sidewalk, your feet following beside him. 

After a couple of moments, he stops abruptly and turns towards you, causing your brows to pinch together in confusion as you look over at him. “Are you—”

“Close your eyes,” He nudges his chin towards you. A small playful smile spreads over his lips when he notices how confused you look at the request. “Just do it.” 

“You aren’t going to—”

“No,” He laughs softly, knowing what you were going to ask. Taking a step over to stand in behind you, his hand grazes your arm as he turns you a bit. Sighing, you give in and allow your eyes to slip shut. You suddenly feel his hands covering your eyes as well. 

“Is this really necessary?” 

“Yes,” His voice is soft and your breath hitches from how close he truly is. “Trust me.” 

You’re rendered speechless only for a moment before you quickly nod. “I do.” 

He smiles softly, allowing you to lead the way as you follow his instructions blindly. “…Okay, stop,”

Your movements cease and you feel the warmth of him disappear — slightly disappointed. “Open.” His voice is now coming from your left side. 

Your eyes slowly open, adjusting a bit to the change of lighting. Your lips part in surprise before a smile tugs at your lips. “It’s still here?” You look away from the treehouse, instead looking at Dave. 

He smiles and nods. “Of course,” He motions towards the house he grew up in. “Dad left the house to me in the will.” 

Your smile slowly fades, shoulders dropping slightly. “James died?” 

He nods a bit. “Sadly, that’s the only reason I’m back,” He clears his throat. “But after cleaning everything out and putting the house on the market—”

“You’re not staying?” 

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head hesitantly. “No. I’m going back home.” 

I’m going back home. 

It’s not much of anything, but the words have your heart twisting in a painful way and your eyes drop towards the flowers as you nod slightly. He would be leaving you — again. 

But you will not be selfish. Even if you want to. 

“Alright, let’s climb up and see what we used to hide away, shall we?” 

Your eyes lift and a small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth but never fully expands to anything more. You nod and walk towards the tree, placing your flowers onto the chair next to it before crawling up the ladder. 

Pushing the door open, you push yourself up and crawl inside before standing and dusting off your legs. Looking around, the wave of nostalgia is suddenly hitting you once again, almost knocking you back onto the ground. 

Stepping closer to the carving you’d once done, your fingers trace over the initials, a small laugh leaving your lips as your head tilts. 

“Oh, god,” You quickly look over your shoulder, noticing the box Dave was holding. “The green and yellow suit.” You let out a laugh when he holds it up, shaking it a bit. 

You cover your mouth when you notice the look he gives you. “Sorry.” You quickly apologize. 

“You laughing at the super suit?” 

“Uh,” You glance at the suit that he holds in his hands once again, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” You let out another laugh. He smiles and rolls his eyes, grabbing the mask from the bottom and tosses the box onto the wooden ground. 

He steps over and tugs it down on your head, grinning. “Mhm,” He nods. “You do look like a dork in this.” 

“Ha-ha. Funny,” You roll your eyes, despite the smile that remains glued onto your face. You tug the mask from your head. He lifts his hands and quickly fixes the strands of hair that had covered your face. 

You gulp quietly, feeling the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek as he does so. “Thanks.” 

He nods and pulls his hands away, now turning and sitting down on the small dusty blanket in the corner. Your face scrunches a bit when he does. 

He pats the spot beside him wordlessly. You make your way over and sit next to him, the mask still in your hands. Thumbing the material, you lean your head back on the wood. 

“Are you still…?” 

He bites his cheek slightly before nodding a bit. “I’ll always be,” His eyes linger on the mask in your hands. “Even if I’m not actively out and saving people like I used to when I was a…teenager — God, a teenager,” 

He lets out a small sound of disbelief as he shakes his head. “A part of that is still with me. No matter how much I kind of wish it wasn’t.” 

You nod in understanding. “You got hurt. A lot.” 

“That I did.” He smirks a bit — though, it’s not an amused one. 

You debate on what you're about to say. Tell him now and regret it later. 

Or never say anything and still regret it. 

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself to calm down before speaking. “I thought that first time — when you went into the hospital and your dad called me — that I had…” You pause. You can feel his eyes on you now, rather than the mask in your hands. 

“But, when I came to visit you, you were okay,” You smiled a bit with a nod. “That calmed me. Then, long story short, I found out why you’d ended up in the hospital,” 

You look over at him. “I remember asking you to stop because I didn’t want you to get hurt or worse,” He nods a bit. “You told me I didn’t understand and I never would. Then, Katie and you became a thing and suddenly…you’d listened to her,”

He frowns and looks away quickly. “I’m not mad about it. I mean, at first I was — because I had been your best friend and I thought maybe you’d listen to me, yet you just kind of shrugged me off. But when Katie asked you, you had no problem with the idea,” You shrug a bit. “I was also just a teenager trying to…navigate my feelings. I got angry at you, more than I probably should have.” 

“You never…told me. Or even showed it.” 

“That’s because I loved you, Dave,” He quickly looks back at you. You give him a weak smile and quickly look away when you feel the upcoming tears suddenly tingle and prick at your eyes. You laugh at yourself airly, shaking your head. “And that was a hard thing to feel because I was so…confused. I had never felt that way towards anyone before,” 

“And I was trying to figure out why I would keep letting you in when you’d get hurt and…” You’re now regretting dredging up the past. Because that’s exactly where it’s supposed to stay — in the past. “And I finally figured out when you had left without even really saying anything to me. Not that you had to, because I understand why you wanted to leave, but it still hurt all the same.” 

Dave blinks a couple of times at your words but remains staring at you as he does so. He clears his throat, mouth opening and shutting a few times before only saying; “You loved me?” 

You nod your head. “Yeah. Of course,” You tuck your hair behind your ear and finally place the mask down on the blanket next to you. “It wasn’t just because I grew up with you, it was just because it was…easy,” You shrug. 

“It was easy to love you and I always thought…” You trail off, eyes cutting towards the side to glance out the small window. 

“Thought what?” He asks softly. 

“I had always thought you and I both would’ve…ended up together,” You lean your head back. “It’s a bit silly now to say, especially when I know you had never viewed me that way back then. It was just the typical white fence, big wedding, two kids, type of dream I had.” 

“Why do you think I never thought of you in the same way?” He shakes his head. 

“Oh, come on,” You let out a small scoff, looking over at him. He genuinely looks confused and you lift your head from the wall. “You had gotten Katie. Katie, Dave. You would’ve never gone after someone like me.” 

“That’s not true,” He sits up, pointing towards you. Your brows lift slightly. “That is so not true. I used to try to get you to go on dates with me all the time.” 

“Asking if I wanted to go to the movies — like we always did, might I add — was not asking me on a date,” You let out a small laugh. “Especially if Todd and Marty were joining,” 

He frowns and looks down. You sigh and drop your hand on top of his. “Dave, it’s okay. Really. It’s over now and—”

“Do you still feel the same?” He cuts you off quickly. You stare at him as if you had imagined him saying it. 

After a moment of silence and a slight, silent urge of lifted brows, you speak. “I-I mean…” You purse your lips, your heart beating in your throat now instead of it staying where it needed to stay. 

“I don’t think loving someone ever comes to an end,” You shake your head. “Especially after loving them for so long.” 

Dave stares at you silently for a moment before surging forward and catching your lips with his, his hands cradling your jaw. The initial shock wears off quickly and your fingers are finally wrapping around his wrist gently. 

He slowly pulls away, still staying close where you could feel his breath brush over your lips and the top of his lip graze your own. 

“Did that just—”

“Yeah.” He cuts you off with a whisper. 

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Teenage me is screaming,” You whisper. He snorts, pressing another soft kiss against your lips before the corner of your mouth. “But you didn’t have to do that.” 

He pulls his forehead away from yours, tilting his head a bit. “I wanted to,” He nods. “I’ve always wanted to. I was just too scared to put myself out on the line for you. But I should’ve.” 

“You should’ve,” You nod, leaning into his hand the remains on your cheek. “Are you still going to leave?” You whisper. His eyes remain on yours, a small smile on his face. 

“I think I found a reason to stay.” 

𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @sstar-ggirl — @pretty-little-mind33 — @love-quinn

𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, & feedback are welcome & greatly appreciated!

[heart-of-ep]

Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter One)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world, which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, prescription drug use, and infidelity will appear throughout the story.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: Hey everyone! My name is Mari (aka heart.of.ep on here and Instagram!) and I'm so excited to finally be diving into the world of Elvis fanfiction after being a hard-core fan for almost three years now. This is my first time writing in a long while, and it's only my second time writing a fanfiction, so I hope I'm able to entertain you with this story and I hope everyone has a fun time reading it!

I did create an OC for this story as I have an easier time writing with a specific character in mind, but I kept it in second person as to give readers the opportunity to self insert in a way. Wasn't a fan of this POV at first but its really grown on me so hopefully I've done it well haha.

This story will begin by following Elvis in 1970 (my favorite year 🤭) but will continue on throughout the early 1970s! There may be some historical inaccuracies along the way to accommodate the presence of Minnie Jones, but of course I'm always striving to keep things as accurate as I possibly can.

I don't think I will have a specific upload schedule or regular time for posting, but I'll try my best to be as frequent as I can with uploading chapters. Any comments, thoughts, reblogs, etc are very much appreciated and I genuinely hope everyone loves this story as much as I do. 🙏

If you'd like to be tagged in any chapters going forward, just comment and let me know!

Thank you once again and I hope everyone enjoys!

February, 1970

Los Angeles, CA

~*~*~*~*~*~

Elvis Presley.

The most photographed man in the world, and for good reason it seemed. Impossibly blue eyes that swirled like the depth of an ocean, statuesque like features that even a Greek god would most likely be jealous of, and a brilliant smile that sent millions of girls and women all around the world into a complete frenzy whenever he flashed it their way.

It made perfect sense then why his face was pretty much plastered on every magazine you ever came in contact with. Not to mention the various movie posters you would often see at the theater throughout the years. You could even recall being just about twelve years old when Love Me Tender first hit theaters. Even at such a young age, you could see why everyone sitting around you in that dark theater were either crying or screaming. His beauty seemed to transcend the realm of normal.

As hyperbolic as it may seem, no one in the world looked like Elvis Presley, that much was certain.

Unfortunately, while many photos exist, most are heavily curated, either on a movie set or in a studio with lighting and makeup. It didn't make him any less beautiful, but it did give the fans and the public a very specific view of the King, one controlled by Hollywood and his manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

In the early days, there were hundreds of photos of Elvis that appeared in newspapers from fans and those photographers who were lucky enough to capture a picture of lightning in a bottle. But those days were far gone, and nothing like it has surfaced since.

And that's exactly why you had been brought to your editor's office early one morning in February of 1970. You had been busy working on gathering photos for a local political campaign, which was a real bore, but someone had to do it and you didn't exactly have the seniority to say no. But when your manager called you about a new project, you were practically chomping at the bit to accept. Of course, you wanted to hear him out first.

“You've been doing great work, Minnie. These shots are truly some of the best this paper has seen in a while.” Your editor, Mr Pierce, said as he looked over the pictures you had submitted this morning.

“Thank you, sir. Though, I think there's only so much I can do to make a rally look interesting.” You said jokingly.

Your boss snorted. “You're right about that.” He sighed before sitting the folder down on his desk. “Which is exactly why I called you here. I think your talents are being wasted on shit like this.” He said bluntly. Your boss never did sugarcoat. “I was recently brought an opportunity from a rather…private sort of individual, and I think you would be the perfect fit.”

You raised an eyebrow, now rather curious. Usually your paper only covered public events or individuals. “Who exactly is it?”

Pierce seemed hesitant at first to tell you, but eventually he decided to just come right out and say it. “Elvis Presley.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Elvis Presley?” You weren’t sure if you had cotton in your ears or if maybe you were imagining it, but Pierce noticed your surprise and quickly added some context to explain.

“Yes, Elvis Presley. I can’t say I had a very different reaction when his manager called me a couple days ago.” He said as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. “I’m sure you know that Mr Presley has been taking a step back into live performances this past year, which means every photographer worth a damn is chomping at the bit to capture the ‘best’ photo of him possible for their respective news outlet. So far they’ve been doing a damn good job. Meanwhile, we’ve got nothing.” He grumbled in frustration. “Needless to say, Presley is the hottest talk in town, and we’re failing to keep up.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “I don’t understand…why did his manager contact us?” If there were already dozens of papers covering Elvis’s shows from all across the world, then why contact a somewhat small paper in Los Angeles?

Pierce seemed to light up at your question. “I had the same question, my dear.” He stood up again, unable to sit still. “Are you familiar with Alfred Wertheimer?”

The name was instantly recognizable. Any real photographer knew of Wertheimer’s work, especially if you knew anything about Elvis Presley. “Of course I know about him. His work with Presley is still amazing even now.” You said, trying your best to keep your adulation in check.

“Well, no photo of Elvis Presley has been taken like that since Wertheimer almost fifteen years ago.” He frowned a bit. “Seems as though his manager,” and apparent publicist, “wants to change that. With all this new buzz surrounding Presley, he wants to see if he can capture lightning in a bottle twice.”

It quickly began to dawn on you what this all meant exactly. “Shit.” You muttered under your breath.

Perhaps Alfred Wertheimer didn’t mean much to the uninitiated, but the photographs of Elvis were completely unprecedented. Just at the cusp of fame and without the glitz and glamor that would soon overtake him in Hollywood, Wertheimer was able to capture a view of Elvis that was both intimate, but also honest and revealing in a way that didn’t feel voyeuristic in the slightest. It was the picture and story of an Elvis Presley that still felt entirely obtainable and human. It was truly a special form of artistic expression that only a photographer with a great deal of talent could accomplish.

Which is precisely why you were sitting there staring at your boss like he had completely lost his mind. “S-sir...you’re not suggesting that I…?”

Pierce smiled at you and nodded. “I knew immediately that you’d be the perfect candidate, my dear. After all, it was your photos covering the Nixon inauguration that sparked Mr Parker’s curiosity to begin with.”

You practically felt your heart leap in your chest, leaving you utterly speechless for a long moment. This was definitely a step up from a local mayoral campaign.

The prospect of photographing someone as famous as Elvis Presley was exciting on its own, but from how your boss explained it, this wouldn’t be a simple snap and go for a quick column on page four of the paper. To compare it to Wertheimer’s work made you realize just how important this opportunity was. This side of Elvis hadn’t been captured in over a decade, and no doubt it would catapult your career towards opportunities you’ve only ever dreamed of covering.

“Well?” Pierce’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Of course, we would still have to meet with Mr Parker and Mr Presley.” He said as he sat back down in his chair.

You parted your lips, not sure what to say at first before you finally pushed your excitement down and immediately stood up. “Well? Of course I want to!” You said, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Jesus, Pierce, this is amazing!”

He smirked a bit. “I take it you’re an Elvis fan?”

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone likes Elvis, but that’s not what matters. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

He laughed a little before standing up again as he dialed a number on his phone. “Presley just finished up his current residency in Las Vegas. According to Parker he’ll be back here in Los Angeles before leaving for a string of concerts in Houston.” He held the phone up to his ear. “We can plan a meeting between you two beforehand. After all, this whole thing is dependent on Elvis Presley liking you enough to let you follow him around.”

You felt your smile dissipate a little at that realization. You hadn’t exactly considered that part in the few minutes you had to think about everything. You were charming enough, but this was Elvis Presley. Enough wouldn’t cut it. You swallowed a bit, but nodded, ignoring the sudden flurry of nerves that swarmed in your stomach.

This is your one shot, Minn. Don’t screw this up.

The next few hours felt like a whirlwind. You spent the majority of that time researching anything and everything about Elvis Presley. As it turns out, a lot had happened since his pictorial debut in Love Me Tender. You hadn’t exactly been keeping up with his career, and now all of it seemed a bit overwhelming. You weren’t sure what to expect from a man like him, especially since any other celebrity you had the opportunity to meet usually turned out to be a total asshole. You didn’t think he would be any different. After all, the humble southerner with perfect manners and an award winning smile just felt too good to be true.

You flipped through a magazine from the stack on your desk, biting your lip in concentration as you read over the raving reviews from Elvis’ previous engagement at the International Hotel in Vegas last summer. You vaguely remember one of your girlfriends at the time mentioning it in passing, but you hadn’t thought much of it. Now you wondered if you were completely insane for having overlooked the entire thing.

The photos of him were truly magnificent, picturing him in a slim fitting two piece jumpsuit that seemed inspired by the style of a karate gi. It alternated between black and white depending on the night of the show, and you couldn’t help but think about how well the black complemented his dark chiseled features. It was a much different look than his earlier appearances throughout the sixties. The greased back hair was now loose and untamed, a reflection of the evolving style in the entertainment world, and the button ups and blazers now seemed to be replaced by a bare chested look accompanied by a stylish scarf around the neck.

Quite frankly, it was hard not to get caught up in the image of him, but you quickly reminded yourself that even though he was Elvis Presley, world famous superstar, he was also just a subject for you to photograph at the end of the day.

A very beautiful subject, indeed.

You practically chewed off all of your fingernails by the time Pierce came out of his office in the early afternoon, approaching your desk with an optimistic look in his eyes. “Good news, Minn, it looks like you’ll be meeting Elvis Presley tonight.”

Your heart leaped in your chest as you stood up from your desk, prying your eyes away from the papers on your desk. “Really? He agreed to the meeting?”

“He sure did, though I doubt that manager gave him much of a choice.” He snorted. “A real carny, that one, but it’ll all be worth it if we can secure this job. Our paper will practically fly off the stands if you can snap those photos.” He grinned.

“Right, no pressure.” You mumbled, trying to ease your growing anxiety as you imagined all the ways this could possibly go wrong.

“Don’t worry, Minn. You’re charming and pretty. Knowing Presley’s reputation, that’ll surely be enough.” He smirked, nudging you a bit before turning on his heel toward his office.

You shot him a glare before letting out a deep breath as you quickly gathered up your portfolio, shoving the photographs inside the binder before standing up and pulling your coat on. You refused to let your nerves get the best of you, after all, this is your job. And as such, you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.

The ride over to Beverly Hills felt long and seemingly endless. You kept staring out the window, focusing your gaze on the large mansions that you drove past, frowning as you realized just how out of your league you really felt. After all, you hadn’t exactly been to this side of LA. The few times you had gotten the chance to photograph a celebrity, it had always been at some sort of public event like an awards show or some kind of charity fundraiser. This, however, felt like a strange new world that you were entering.

You briefly wondered why Elvis and his manager didn’t just come down to the office to conduct this whole ‘interview’ or set up a meeting somewhere on Sunset Blvd, but when you asked Pierce about it, he simply explained the logistics of having Elvis Presley go somewhere so public. You didn’t think much of it, assuming that since it’s Los Angeles nobody would care very much about a celebrity walking around, but then you recalled the different articles you had read and figured maybe Elvis didn’t quite fit into that category.

You chewed on your fingernails, watching as the mansions grew larger before you finally descended upon a set of cast iron gates blocking a long driveway that kept a house just out of view. Much to your surprise, there was a fairly large group of fans already stationed outside, giggling amongst themselves as they took photos with their polaroid cameras. You glanced at Pierce, giving him a skeptical look to which he simply shrugged. He pulled up to the gates, and without having to push a doorbell of any kind, the gates buzzed and suddenly opened up, the crowd of fans quickly dispersing out of the way.

It surprised you to see that they didn’t try following the car inside, but they stayed respectful and stuck to the exterior as the gates closed shut behind you and Pierce pulled forward, parking his car next to a small, but impressive, collection of Cadillacs. You figured if everything fell through with Elvis, maybe he’d be okay with you snapping a few photos of his cars as a consolation gift.

Once again, you pushed down the flurry of nerves that settled in your stomach, realizing it was stupid to feel so nervous over a simple meeting. After all, it’s not like you were the one who set the whole thing up, if they weren’t really interested, they wouldn’t have gone through all of this trouble. That thought helped qualm the uneasiness you felt as you stepped out of the car, looking up at the gorgeous home that overlooked the rolling hills below.

It really did feel like the perfect place for a superstar like Elvis to live.

“Come on, Miss Jones, we’re about to make history.” Pierce grinned as he took the lead, following the brick pathway up to the front door of the mansion.

You self consciously kept messing with your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose as you anxiously awaited for the door to open. When the door opened, you and Pierce were met by a rather short fellow with a goofy smile.

“Mr Pierce?” The man in front of you inquired.

Your boss nodded and smiled. “Yes, and this is my associate Miss Jones.” He said as he gestured toward you. “I believe Mr Parker is expecting us?”

The fellow nodded and smiled again as he quickly stepped aside to let the two of you in. “Right this way.” He closed the door behind him and then led you down the long hallway that acted as the entranceway before spilling out into a rather lavishly decorated and open floor plan. You briefly considered how many rooms the house had before realizing it was probably too many to count from this juncture.

“The Colonel is waiting in the office.” The man said, interrupting your thoughts as he led you and Pierce down another hall towards a beautiful sculpted oak door.

“What about Mr Presley?” You asked without thinking.

“Elvis will be down shortly.” He replied, once again with a lopsided grin before he knocked on the door to the office and pushed it open. “Colonel? Those two journalists from the Los Angeles Sentinel are here.”

“Send them in.” You heard a strange sounding voice say from inside the office.

The man stepped aside, letting Pierce and you step into the room. Your gaze immediately fell upon the robust man sitting at the desk, a large almost comical sized cigar sticking out of his mouth, and a stylish looking barét that clashed with the rest of his ensemble. His steely gaze landed on both you and Pierce the moment you stepped into the room, regarding the two of you with a frown before he removed his cigar and put it out in the ash tray.

Pierce glanced at you, giving a look that said more than enough, before looking at the somewhat unsettling man. “Uh, you must be Mr Parker–”

“Colonel.” The man huffed, his accent a strange mix of southern and something else you couldn't quite identify.

“Excuse me?” Pierce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel Tom Parker.” The man repeated himself before smiling, though it seemed off and not at all genuine.

Pierce cleared his throat. “Right. Colonel Parker. My name is Steven Pierce, I'm the editor of the LA Sentinel. We spoke over the phone a few times.” He said before gesturing to you. “This is my associate, Minnie Jones. She's one of my best photographers and the one responsible for the portfolio I sent you.” He explained.

The Colonel glanced your way, regarding you for a long moment. If you weren't self conscious already, you certainly were now, but you refused to let yourself show how nervous you were.

“Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you.” You said, stepping forward and extending your hand for him to shake.

The Colonel snorted, which struck you immediately as rude, but he shook your hand regardless. You did your best to hide your frown, making sure this man didn't pick up on your displeasure at his general demeanor. “I have to say, Miss Jones, I'm quite impressed with your photos here.” He said as he sat back in his seat, opening up a binder in front of him. “I can't say I was super eager at the idea of someone following my boy around, least of all someone working for a lousy tabloid. But it seems like any publicity is good publicity, my dear.”

You glanced at Pierce for a moment, quickly registering the anger that flashed across his face, before cutting in. “Yes, well…I think this could be very beneficial for Mr Presley. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. And with all due respect, the LA Sentinel is a newspaper, not a tabloid. We just want to publish the truth, not lies.” You said calmly.

"Truth is subjective.” The Colonel shot back. “But it's true that my boy needs some good publicity. After all, a good thing can't last forever.” He said before standing up. “I'll make it simple for you, Miss Jones. All photos taken must be submitted and approved by me before printing. If I find out they're not, you won't have a story to tell anymore.” He said bluntly.

You swallowed a bit before nodding.

“Secondly, Elvis appreciates his privacy as you might imagine, so you will be working according to his schedule and his requests. Simply put, if he doesn't want you there, you won't be there.” He said as he picked up his cigar and stuck it back between his lips.

That's when Pierce cut in. “With all due respect, Colonel, my employee isn’t going to work at the whim of your client. This is still a job at the end of the day.” You shoot him a glare, not wanting him to ruin the opportunity for you, even if you knew he was right.

“Don't worry, Mr Peers,” The Colonel said, purposely mispronouncing his name, “Miss Jones will be accommodated, but if you two want the story you're looking for, you'll have to work with my boy’s fluctuating schedule.” He explained. “That won't be a problem, will it?”

Before Pierce could say anything, you stepped forward. “Of course not. I'm sure we can work with whatever his schedule may be.” You said firmly.

“Good.” The Colonel smiled, much to Pierce's chagrin. “We’ll write up a proper contract with all the logistics before you leave, but I think now is a great time for you to meet Elvis.”

Suddenly all your nerves instantly returned, but before you had much time to even think about what was happening, the Colonel was walking out the door and down the hall. Both you and Pierce quickly followed, keeping with his surprisngly fast pace as he limped with his cane towards the living room area you had passed by earlier.

“Minn, are you sure about this?” Pierce hissed by your ear as he leaned over to you. “This isn't exactly what I thought you were signing up for.”

You looked up at him, biting your lip for a second before nodding, standing firm with your decision. “C’mon, Pierce. We both know this is too good to pass up.” You whispered before the three of you entered the room.

The man who had let you into the house earlier was there with a couple of other guys you hadn't seen. You saw that Elvis wasn't there, frowning a bit as you folded your arms and looked at the Colonel. “Where's Mr Presley?” You asked, feeling a little impatient and maybe a little excited.

“Right here, honey.”

You froze, goosebumps rolling over your skin for some inexplicable reason, as if some kind of force you didn't recognize had suddenly entered the room. You slowly turned around, coming face to face with the most famous man in the world.

Shit.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list ~

Taglist: @60svintage @moonchild-daniella @ken-kenzie-zie

[distracted-milkshake]

Backseats - Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: sex sex sexxx but not smut, mentions of injuries, typical pregnancy talk

Words: 3.7k

Rating: M

Summary: Tony grapples with the fact that, after finally getting you pregnant, you’re a bit more pregnant than either of you expected.

or

In which almost every important thing since you met Tony seems to happen in the backseat of a car.

Had an exact idea for this, and it just came out for once, ending me with a sweet little one-shot I’m happy to say came out exactly how I wanted. Hope you enjoy!

Little unfun fact, I may have broken my foot halfway through finishing this. Won’t know till tomorrow, but I am quite pissed

Also want to note that I didn’t notice till I was about half done, but there’s not actual reference to Tony being Iron Man or having the arc reactor anywhere in this. I didn’t exactly do this on purpose but it felt worth pointing out

Ao3 link

“No. No, that’s entirely too many.” 

Tony was sat beside you at your ultrasound appointment, squinting to get a better look at the image being displayed. 

“Tony…” you started, though you weren’t sure how to continue. 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets, standing up. 

“Did I hit my head?” He tapped the monitor, and the doctor gave you a disapproving look you could do nothing but shake your head at, shrugging. 

“Are you seeing this?” He looked at you, head at a tilt. 

“Yes. I told you.” 

“You’re kidding me. Tell me you’re kidding me, this has got to be some sort of prank.” 

He tapped his foot in relative silence for a moment, chewing his lip. 

“We’ve got to downsize.” You gave him an unamused frown, to which he put his hands up defensively. 

“Only joking.” He said. 

“Don’t even.” You said. Any way you interpreted that wasn’t funny. 

“What’s the odds on that, by the way?” He inquired. 

“IVF brings a much higher chance of multiples, so not that unlikely, actually.” 

You’d only gone for artificial methods after banging for almost a year with no results. 

Despite supplements and tracking and Tony stepping it up, something just wasn’t working. 

You’d brought it up when he made it home late one night. 

“You look lively after fourteen hours.” You said from the couch as Tony walked in, dumping his briefcase by the stairs for later. 

“Private plane’ll do that. I’m not even tired, I think I’ve grown immune to jet lag.” 

“How’d it go?” 

“It was wild. They asked about you. I said you’d gotten into beekeeping.” 

“That’s what we’re saying now?” You teased. 

“Hey, whatever they’ll print.” 

“Appreciate it.” 

You could only manage flying once or twice a year, otherwise? You could handle not seeing Tony for a few days. In fact, more times than not you could use it. 

“Aside that, it has been a hell of a day. Meet you in bed?” 

“Sure thing.” 

With that and a kiss on the cheek, he went off to the bathroom. 

You headed to the bedroom, and a few minutes later Tony joined you, already stripped to his slacks. 

“God you look sexy when you do that.” He murmured, pulling off his socks and getting on the bed next to you. 

“I’m not doing anything,” 

“Exactly. You don’t need to.” 

He tugged off what little you were wearing, situating himself between your legs. 

“You gotta shave if I’m gonna do this.” He blew a tuft of hair off his forehead. 

“You offered.” 

“As if I’m going to pass it up, please. Waiter? There’s a hair in my meal.” He spat, picking at his tongue, making you giggle. 

He smiled. finished undressing and crawled up to kiss you, pulling you down by the waist off the headboard to on your back in the pillows. 

You stared ahead, brow drawn as he pulled your leg up over his shoulder. 

“Jesus that feels like coming home.” He huffed. 

“Tony?” 

“Yeah?”  

“Why haven’t I gotten pregnant yet?” He slowed, giving you a look. 

“Well I wouldn’t know. Hormones, cycles, the whole thing‘s finicky, never really made sense of it myself.” 

”Tony.” You voiced with a groan, scrunching your nose. 

“You want me to stop right now and answer?” 

“No, I just– I’m serious.” 

“So am I. I don’t know.” 

You sat up on your elbows, and Tony sighed, dropping your leg and sitting back. “Think maybe we should try something different?” You said. 

“Like what?” 

“You know.” 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Not to be possessive, or whatever it’s called now, but I really don’t like to share.” 

“Oh Jesus, Tony, no! I mean like artificial insemination, IVF, you know, that kind of thing.” 

“Thank god. Though I was afraid you meant that.” He sighed, resting on his haunches. “Frick.” 

“You don’t want to?” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” he scratched his chin. “Actually, yes it is. I don’t want to. Scoot.” 

You moved over so he could pull his legs out from under him and climb up next to you, pushing the covers out of the way, gesturing for you. 

You laid back into his arms.

“No, we’ll keep trying. It’ll sort itself out, I’m sure.” 

“Any particular reason?” 

“Do we have to get into it? I just don’t want to.” 

“All right then.” You leaned up and kissed him, pulling him against you. 

You liked Tony because you hadn’t known who he was when you met him. He was stranded from some failed scheduling, and in the backseat of a ride share he’d asked to borrow your phone like any other person would.  

“Really, just one call and I’ll give it right back.” 

You'd rolled your eyes, but handed it over. “You should put your seatbelt on.” You had said. 

“I’m like ten minutes from where I’m going, this guy doesn’t care.” 

And then when he gave it back to you, you had found his number in it. 

You’d called him the next day, of course, with full intent to tell him to buzz off, only to be stunned into intrigue. 

“Great. Now I have yours.” Had been all he said before hanging up. 

After that, you texted near daily. He wasn’t always the greatest at responding, so you preferred video calls. It was like that for months before you finally went out. You played hard to get, right up until he got you. 

You had told him it was on one condition, that he wouldn’t chew you up and spit you out like he did to supermodels and reporters, or say, his secretary. 

That if you were going to date him, and really date him, that he’d have to be all in, it was you or bust; you weren’t going to let him play you into something just for it to fall through. 

Not when you knew he was the only one for you. 

He’d only said one thing to that: “Done.” 

And two weeks later he proposed to you on live television. 

The media still didn’t believe, no matter how many times Tony said you were special, that you were going to last. 

Stuff spread fast as soon as you were seen in public together, journalists certain you were his latest in a long line of heartless flings. 

So you agreed to help him change that. 

“Go easy on her, yeah? She’s not used to television, but it's cool, because she agreed to be here with me, and honestly that’s enough work in a relationship on its own, I think she’s clear for the year.” Watching Tony beam on camera, every ounce of charm working, was worth it on its own. 

“Well we’ve got some great stuff planned for tonight, so don’t you worry.” 

You smiled, seated on that couch next to him in front of a whole studio audience and probably millions of viewers, because although you felt out of place, and a little in over your head, Tony kept his hand on yours damn near the entire time. 

Despite being asked a few questions, Tony answered most of them for you, dismissing any negative rhetoric coming your way, which you appreciated, because you could hardly believe the audacity of some of the things they were saying. 

You wouldn’t have agreed to do it if Tony hadn’t let you pick your own outfit, a loose, patterned jumpsuit, and made sure you didn’t have to wear any makeup that you didn’t usually. 

You got to show off when they asked about it, giving a spin Tony stayed holding your hand through, to lots of claps and applause, which would’ve been your highlight of the night if not for what came right after. 

“Well might I just say I think I speak for everyone when I say you look amazing tonight,” the interviewer complimented a little too gushingly, eyeing you. 

“Hey, easy. I am taken.” You spoke up, smiling thinly. 

“Fiery; I like it. Where’s he been keeping you!” 

“Wherever she pleases,” Tony said. “As it turns out, because I don’t keep her.”

“So, last question, have you thought about settling down?” The interviewer pivoted, letting you breathe easier, not wanting but more than willing to make a scene over anything more.

“Thought about? Oh yeah.” Tony said. “We’re pretty inseparable as it is. I don’t go a day without talking to her.” He glanced at you, brown eyes shining. “We’ve discussed it a little. Playfully, mostly. I don’t doubt why she doesn’t always take me seriously.” 

“Does marriage scare you?” The interviewer asked. 

“Terrifies, if I’m honest. But actually, it’s more the asking, you know, the hardest part is deciding when is a good time.” 

You straightened your back, alert as Tony leaned back to dig around in the pocket of his suit before standing, giving you a nod as you stared at him with wide eyes, getting down on one knee. 

You could feel how red your face must’ve been with all the cameras on you. 

“You’d make me the happiest man on Earth if you said yes.” 

The interview had been to announce you were together, among other things, after months of tabloids and speculation, to clear things up. Though the way Tony had phrased it beforehand made it all make a lot more sense. 

“I just wanna let the world know I’ve met someone really special, and I’ve changed. I want to show them.” He adjusted your mic backstages behind the tech’s back, placing his hands on your upper arms. 

“Because things are gonna change.” 

The interview blew up, and pictures of your red, tear stained, smiling face as Tony hugged you, engagement ring held up, displayed proudly on your hand, were in articles and magazines the world over. 

All the attention was a little overwhelming, but you were the most thrilled you had ever been in your life to be engaged to Tony Stark. 

He’d asked you after, on the way home, if it was too much, but you assured him it was perfect. 

“I thought about it immediately when I was asked to do the interview, and I knew if I didn’t do it then I was going to put it off. So I’m, how you say…”

“Sorry?”

“That.” You gave him an expectant eyebrow raise. 

“I’m… sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you don’t deserve that, being strung out.” 

“It was very you. I still can’t believe I didn’t see it coming, I was so nervous.” 

“I saw that, I was afraid you’d faint.” 

“Oh lord, don’t even say that!” You laughed, giving him a shove. 

“It’s fine, I would’ve caught you.” He kissed your ear, giving it a tug with his teeth before you threw your arms over his shoulders and pushed him into a heated kiss. 

You first started trying for a baby four months after the wedding. 

“Hey, be here when we’re done, yeah? It’s gonna be a long night. You get in there, get yourself a drink, enjoy.” Tony dismissed the cab driver with a tip. 

“I cannot stand when they talk. Tell me again why we couldn’t get a limo?” You were fidgeting, not because of nerves, but excitement. 

“Whatcha smilin’ about? It’s just an action flick, probably not even good.” You would forever commend Tony on his ability to read a room, mood, or vibe without seeming to even look. Especially when it came to you. 

“I was going to tell you when we got home tonight.” 

“Tell me…?” He tilted his head at you, doing that thing with his lips that never failed to make your chest tight. “We’re not getting back till late, come on.” He urged. 

“You know we were talking last month, and I– I took it to heart.” 

“Oh?” 

You took a deep breath. “I stopped taking my birth control yesterday.” 

His eyes lit up. “You serious?” 

“I think I’m ready.” You nodded. 

He all but tackled you in the backseat of that cab, littering your jaw in kisses before moving down to your cleavage, making you yelp. 

“It’s not going to work yet!” You laughed. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try. Celebratory sex, you, me, now.” 

“Tony…! We’ve got a premiere!” 

He brought up his watch, squinting. 

“I’ve got ten minutes and a hard-on, seriously, they’re still playing ads, we won’t miss a thing. And ‘sides, I gotta practice dropping my pullout game.” 

“You are unbelievable.” 

“Won’t make a mess, swear it.” 

“God I love you.” You gripped his lapel, pulling him into a kiss. 

Having straightened out your two-piece and fixed Tony’s hair, grinning when he gave your ass a more than friendly pat, you started the couple blocks to the theater. 

“Right, let’s hurry.” You crossed the street, close by his side. 

“You really cut it close.” You shook your head at him, double checking your clothes. 

“Completely worth it. Do it again in a heartbeat.” 

You swore you always felt like a teenager with their first crush around him, the way he looked at you, always excited you were in the room. 

He took your hand, letting his fingers thread with yours. 

“hey so, I promise I’m gonna be a better dad than mine was. I know I’m not great, but… I promise I’m gonna be decent.” 

“You’re already half there.” You squeezed his hand, giving him a nudge. 

“You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t have married you otherwise.” 

He kissed the crown of your head, before lights and cameras surrounded you both on the carpet. 

But not everything had been roses. 

A few months after that, you’d both been in an accident. 

Tony had been driving, when a tire blew along a turn, sending the car over the side of the highway into the bushes. 

He'd gone through the windshield, hitting the hood and landing a few feet in front of the car in the dirt. 

You scrambled to unfasten your seatbelt, stumbling dazedly out the passenger door onto your hands, shaking it off and rushing to Tony.

“Oh my god, Tony!” Relief washed over you as he groaned when you turned him over. 

“Ow .” 

“Are you hurt?” 

“Jesus, duh.” He felt his face and chest, blinking through the bleary vision. 

“Just my head, I think, but holy shit.” 

You helped him up into the backseat, pulling out your phone and dialing 911. 

“I’m calling an ambulance.” 

You grabbed Tony’s handkerchief for the bleeding from his head, telling the operator where you were and what happened, as well as your husband’s condition. 

“Right, they’re on their way. Don’t lean back, sit up.” 

”We should try IVF.” 

“What?” 

“You mentioned it, and I know I said I was against it, but I think we need to look into it.” 

“Tony we were just in a car crash–”

“Yeah and I really put something into perspective for me. I really don’t want to die before we manage to conceive.” 

“That’s what you were thinking about?” You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. 

“Deadass, sweetie. Imagine how ridiculous it would be if we ended up childless at like fifty because I was too worried about being seen as inadequate.” 

“You’re kidding me. That’s why you didn’t want to?” 

“Come on. It should be obvious. I spent years sleeping around, making my name synonymous with sex, and I can’t even get my wife pregnant? I would never live that down.” 

“Hey, it was not for lack of trying.” 

“Don’t I know it.” He huffed, wincing as you checked where you’d been staunching his head. 

“I want kids with you.” He said. “And I mean that.” 

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded. 

“Okay? Okay.”  

A half hour or so later the ambulance showed up, and you spent the rest of the evening getting Tony stitches. 

He’d been lucky a concussion and a couple fractured ribs was all he got off with, and he wouldn’t have even gotten that if he’d been wearing a seatbelt. 

“I guess there’s something to be said for getting it over with.” Back in the present, Tony was still talking himself into the news. 

“What do I know, maybe it’s incredibly efficient.” He sighed. “How many did you want again?” 

“Like, two?” You threw out. 

“Surprise, bonus for ya.” He gestured like he was pulling a slot machine. “You struck a three for one, cash-in is in eight months. Hope you know this is your early birthday gift. Christmas too.” 

“That’s a relief.” You shook your head, remembering the last time Tony tried to get you something, and just how much of a disaster it was. 

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m in a very vulnerable place right now.” He teased, but you could tell there was some seriousness behind it. 

“Three kids…” he exhaled a drawn out breath. 

“You’re gonna do great.” You said. 

“I am? I should be the one telling you. It is safe, correct?” He addressed the doctor. 

“We’ll have to see how the pregnancy develops, twins and triplets are almost always born premature, which adds risk to any delivery.” 

“And they are?” The doctor gave him a confused look. 

“Boys? Girls? Other? All of the above?” 

“It’s too early to tell.” 

“Of course. What was I thinking. Right, well, thanks for the news.” 

He was quiet as you wrapped up, getting cleaned up, and printed off your pictures—three little fuzzy black and white shapes. 

“You good?” You asked out in the hall, on your way to the rear exit, noticing how out of it Tony looked. 

“I’m gonna need to think about it. I’m kinda tingly in the fingers, my heart’s racing, I think I’m still in denial.” 

As you approached the glass door, Tony stopped you with an arm, biting his lip. 

“Shit.” 

You followed his gaze to the moderately sized crowd outside, feeling your heart sink. 

“Oh goddamnit.” 

“Don’t people have anything better to do with their lives?” Tony muttered. 

“How. We took surface roads and parked behind the hospital!” You groaned. 

“Where there's a me there’s a camera hoping to catch something. Car’s close, yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Right. Deep breath.” 

He tugged off his jacket, covering you as you made your way to the car, ducking you inside while camera flashes snapped from every direction. 

“Mister Stark! Mister Stark! Are you currently going through IVF treatment?” 

“Is your wife expecting?” 

“Sir, is it true you’re going to be a father soon?” 

“Fine, you might as well know now.” He caught your eye through the gap of the tinted car window, and you furrowed your brow. 

“My wife and I are expecting. We’re having triplets.” He said. 

“And that’s a you get.”  

You moved over as he opened the door and got in the seat beside you, quickly shutting it behind him. 

“I can’t believe you just did that.” 

“Yeah, believe it, before I change my mind.” 

“You can’t take it back now!” 

“Well yeah, but if I could, you would have to accept that I wouldn’t, unless I changed my mind, or you really wanted me to, in which case I’d figure it out.” 

“What?” 

“Nevermind.” He rolled up his window the rest of the way, drowning out the paparazzi still clamoring for his attention outside. 

“Hey,” you put your hand on his thigh. “Thank you, Tony.” 

“I’m not the one who’s going to have three human beings inside her, and not in a fun way. Jesus, you’re going to get huge.” He looked down at your stomach, then back up into your eyes. 

“You’re having triplets?” Happy exclaimed from the front seat. 

“Christ, Happy, you are not a part of this conversation.” Tony gave a dramatic slump against his headrest, throwing his hand up. “Is privacy dead!” 

“Yes, we’re having triplets.” You confirmed with a smile. 

Tony turned back to you. “But you are welcome. My sperm and all. Sorry I couldn’t get it the old fashioned way.” 

“I am not complaining.” 

Happy started the car. 

“Seatbelt,” you gave Tony's arm a tap with the back of your hand, and he quickly buckled himself in, kissing his fingers as you drove off. 

“What’s that for?” You asked. 

“I’m kissing my free time goodbye.” He exhaled heavily. 

“Half the house is going to be kids’ stuff, isn’t it?” 

“Half the house is going to be kids’ stuff.” You chuckled. 

“Not the basement.” 

“Basement can stay.” You assured him. 

“I’m gonna have to uninstall the fountain, aren’t I? It’s just not safe.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say it.” 

“Holy shit, what are we gonna name them!” He interjected,, his expression somewhere between panicked and elated. 

“‘Cause all I’ve only got Maria. That’s it. Does first to pop out get priority, or…?” He showed his teeth, gesturing. “There’s gotta be at least one girl out of three, right?” 

“Actually, I was thinking Virginia for a girl.” 

“That’s funny.“ He deadpanned. 

“She’s been a big help.” You shrugged. 

“You got me laughing.” He shook his head. 

“But seriously. I’m typically great at naming things, but, people who can get mad at me later– not to mention something I’m gonna have to call out across the house only about three million times, I’m not so sure if I want that to be my mom’s name.”

“We’ll figure it out.” You ran a hand through where his hair had shuck loose to hang in his eyes, kissing his cheek. 

It was wild to think less than a two years ago you’d met him for the very first time, and now you were closer to him than anyone, married and having kids. 

“Hey Happy, closest drive through with ice cream?” Tony leaned forward to ask. 

“You know this woman had ice cream every day while she was pregnant, and apparently, full fat ice cream has like fourteen grams of protein per cup? It’s nuts. More if you add nuts now I think about it. That’s not a bad idea. Butter pecan?” 

“Ice cream sounds great right now.” 

“I’m not suggesting you do that, but as far as becoming a picky eater goes… not the worst idea.” 

You pulled through a Dairy Queen, getting two butter pecan ice creams. 

Tony pulled out his phone and held up his spoon, clinking it with yours. 

“To becoming parents.” He toasted, kissing a bit of pecan off your upper lip, snapping a picture of you both as you laughed. 

[little-miss-alone-n-in-love]

There definitely is!

I'm thinking that the sheriff doesn't like her dad because when they used to be partners back in the day, he did things a little differently... He didn't play by the rules. He wasn't dirty, he just took more risks and didn't care about the itty bitty regulations that could get him in trouble. That's why Noah is the sheriff, not him.

Seeing his partner recklessly do whatever he thought was necessary to catch the bad guys drove Noah insane. It's like the guy was so determined that he threw his moral code out the window. He got too physical, too emotionally attached to his cases. He was one of the reasons Noah started to drink.

He spent a lot of time ranting to his son about how cruel his ex-partner always was, but Stiles never understood why it bothered him so much. He figures that breaking a couple of windows and noses on the way isn't a big deal if you get the job done. That's why he decides that putting his hands all over that beautiful, delicious girl won't be such a bad thing after all. His dad doesn't even have to know.

So, during dinner, he goes on and on about how "annoyed" he is about being paired with "the spawn of Satan himself" for a big project that will take a few weeks. He tells his dad about how "miserable" he will be tonight when they start working on it at her house, and how he's already "nauseous" just thinking about it. Sheriff Stilinski believes him. And warns him to be careful with her.

Stiles is anything but careful when he's ripping her panties off her mouthwatering legs. The only project he has is making her cum more times than either of them can count, but it's a great cover story when she texts him that her dad just left for the night shift and his dick is already getting hard.

Thank you for your additions! I really enjoyed this and would love to keep it going if you or anyone else has more ideas! Wish me luck with the massive presentation I have to do today...

Forbidden romance vibes.

Your dads hate each other. Something about one of them being passed over for some sort of promotion, politics, whatever. But his dad hates your dad. Therefore Stiles is supposed to hate you. Right? Right.

So what if he happened to see you with a flat tire one night? He dislikes you but he’s not a monster.

So what if he offers you a ride home when you both realize there’s no spare on your car? And big deal, you just so happen to know all the words to that one song he’s loved since he was like 10.

Have your legs always looked that good in a skirt? Were they always that tan and had you always had those little freckles on the swell of your tits? He only stops thinking about that long enough to realize you left your keys in the car, wedged between the seat of course.

Wait. How did he end up sneaking through your bedroom window, nearly somersaulting through it?

So this is her room? Oh right. Just returning her keys. Wow. You have posters of the same bands he does, he thinks he can even spot a few of the same band tees in her slightly ajar closet. And more skirts. Why do he hate her again? Did your dad even care?

Wow. She’s cute. And maybe a bit of bitch but it want as if stiles hadn’t given her a hard time these last few years.

“Stiles… you’re doing that weird gazing off into space thing again. Are you like… okay?”

No, as of a matter of fact. Stiles is not okay. Stiles is completely fucked. Oh great now all he can think about is that word. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck her. Fuck her right now.

Well fuck.

YES, I LOVE THE ROMEO AND JULIETTE VIBES!

And the close proximity in his car is like a force drawing Stiles closer to her, pulling his gaze to those forbidden places, internally begging for a better view.

Maybe he thought going through the window would allow him to get in and out quickly and without being noticed. However, once he's in there, he's practically trapped in a web of lust. Every little thing he sees just makes his fascination (and dick) grow.

He was shocked that she was upset when she saw him in her room, and he almost lets himself imagine that she's happy that he's in such a personal, intimate space.

But his head is swirling, so his thoughts are beyond his control. Puberty did a number on him, but she has more influence on his hormones right now.

He's twitching - all over. His muscles are begging him to do something, to get that release, to touch all that silky skin. He feels hot and almost out of breath. Speaking isn't an option, words no longer exist. He's too desperate.

The problem is that the consequences of any movements he makes could be detrimental for his father too. He's stuck. For now...

I don't know how I feel about my end of this, but thank you so much for your submission! This is amazing, I love it! 💜

[witchysniffles]

new year's eve

A/gathario ft. sick A/gatha being too stubborn for her own good. 8.7k words (💀) There WILL be a part 2 to this at some point, but given how long this took it might be a minute lol.

All of this was inspired by @flutterytickles's tags on this post about the idea of a professor AU and a New Year's Eve party, and when I say I took that and ran with it...😳

I am MORE than happy to yap about this AU forever, but really all you need to know for this is that everyone's teaching at a small, liberal arts college in Boston. A/gatha was hired as an English professor, but now mostly teaches American history through literature and print culture. R/io studied environmental science with a focus in botany and also poetry in school, and she took a pay cut specifically to teach at a school that would let her do both. Other than that, I feel like it's pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!! <3

Please don't reblog to non-kink blogs! Minors DNI.

“So it’s not going to be a party,” Rio said. “At least not according to Lilia. But Alice and Jen will be there, and a few other faculty members and some of Lilia’s grad students, and Alice assured me there will be good food, lots of drinks, and probably karaoke if they can find a way to hook it up to Lilia’s TV. Sounds like it’ll be a good time.”

“Hmm,” Agatha hummed. Rio had her on speakerphone on her desk while she was tidying up her office, using the time that barely anyone was on campus to prep for the spring semester without anyone commenting on how many empty energy drink cans she was hauling out to the recycling bin.

“Well you know how I feel about karaoke,” Agatha said. Rio thought she heard the sound of her clearing her throat, but she chalked it up to static on the line. “But is Lilia actually inviting me or is this you asking me to come with you?”

“Both,” Rio said. “Lilia doesn’t have your number and she figured you wouldn’t be checking your work email over the holidays, so she asked me to ask you. And I would like it if you came with me.” Rio paused. “You know, if you want to.”

There was another little burst of noise on the line—this time it almost sounded like a sniffle—before Agatha spoke again.

“Well, I promised Nicky I’d take him to the parade and the fireworks at the Common tomorrow, but that’ll be over and done by eight.” Agatha paused and this time Rio was sure she heard a sniffle. “Let me talk to the kid next door, see if he can sit in after I put Nicky down and I’ll…”

Agatha trailed off, and Rio frowned.

“You’ll…?”

“Hh-hold on, I n-need—”

Rio could hear Agatha’s breath stutter, and then before she could even process what was happening, she heard what sounded like a poorly-stifled sneeze from a distance like Agatha was holding the phone away from her face.

“Bless you?” Rio still wasn’t a hundred percent sure she was hearing things right, but she still spoke loud enough for Agatha to hear and—she assumed—roll her eyes at. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was Agatha’s shaky voice when she brought the phone back.

“D-don’t,” she started. “I’m not…n-nah…not…hheh’EHTtschu!”

That was definitely, for sure a sneeze that time, and though Rio couldn’t see it, she could tell by the involuntary little groan that followed that Agatha wasn’t happy about it. Whether it was about sneezing in general or about Rio acknowledging it with another, more enthusiastic “Bless you!” was anyone’s guess.

“Ugh, sorry,” Agatha said after collecting herself again. “You were saying?”

“I think you were saying something about getting a babysitter? But, if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to—”

“I’m fine,” Agatha said firmly. “It’s just some gunk Nicky picked up somewhere. It’s probably just one of those twenty-four hour things, I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Rio was pretty sure that wasn’t how colds worked, but Agatha’s tone told her the topic was not up for discussion, and Rio didn’t feel like pressing the issue would be helpful. This was Agatha, after all.

Last spring when they’d first gotten paired up to teach an interdisciplinary studies course on floral symbolism in classic American literature and poetry, Agatha had neglected to inform Rio that she was horribly allergic to about half the flowers they’d be talking about, so Rio hadn’t thought twice about showing up to the very first class with a fresh arrangement of native wildflowers to sit on the podium between them as they took turns going over the syllabus.

Agatha had done an admirable job downplaying her reaction for most of the hour-long class, only stifling the occasional sneeze into near-silence over her shoulder, but the second class was dismissed, she’d dissolved into the single most dramatic, drawn-out fit Rio had ever seen, blushing furiously the whole time and still insisting she was fine when she could gather enough breath to speak.

Rio had run up to her own office to grab her own bottle of Zyrtec, sure the whole time that this was going to get the whole class cancelled, and her partnership with Agatha would be over before it had even properly begun. With the meds in her system, though, Agatha had pulled herself together shockingly quickly to teach her afternoon class, and to Rio’s surprise, not only did their joint class proceed as planned (after a serious, Rio-initiated discussion of what parts of the syllabus Agatha was and wasn’t allergic to—which Agatha was also blushing furiously through—and an Agatha-initiated tacit threat to never speak of the incident again), but Agatha had been grateful enough for Rio’s help to offer to repay the favor by taking her out to dinner.

One thing led to another, and now, nearly a year later, they were dating, all because Agatha was enough of a stubborn bitch about her allergies to not keep antihistamines on her.

Rio had never actually seen Agatha sick before, but she assumed she probably wouldn’t handle that much better.

“Hh-ITSchu!”

Another sneeze from Agatha drew Rio from her thoughts.

“Ble—”

“Not yet, I…he’ETshiu! Ugh, fuck.”

“Salud,” Rio said.

“Shut up,” Agatha grumbled. “I’m fine. Just let me talk to the kid next door. I would never say this to his face, but he’s a total loser, there’s no way he’s got plans. I gotta check if Hanukkah changes anything, but I’ll text you when I know?”

“Sounds good. Love you, and get some rest!”

She could practically hear Agatha roll her eyes before she shot back a, “Love you too,” and ended the call.

Not half an hour later, Rio’s phone lit up with a text from Agatha.

Teen’s free to babysit. Pick me up at 9?

It’s a date, she replied.

~**~

Agatha was already waiting on the front steps when Rio’s overpriced Uber pulled up in front of the elegant Beacon Hill brownstone. Her hair was down, falling in loose waves over her shoulders, and she was wearing lipstick­, which wasn’t unheard of, but the deep raspberry red shade of it made something in Rio’s brain short out, and suddenly her only thought was about how badly she wanted to fuck it up at midnight.

As she drew closer, though, she realized that the lipstick was a distraction—and a damn good one at that—from the subtle little signs of illness on the rest of her face. Her makeup was impeccable, but up close, Rio could see the shadows of dark circles under her eyes, the barely-there pinkish tint at the tip of her nose, the subtle crease in her foundation that showed just how often she'd been—

Right on cue, Agatha scrunched up her nose with a small sniffle, and judging by the way her hands twitched at her sides, she was really fighting the urge not to rub it. Rio would never say it out loud, but she was pretty sure it was one of the cutest things she’d ever seen.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” Agatha said. Those raspberry lips twitched upwards, as Rio wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Her skin felt a little warm for someone outside in the middle of winter. Rio couldn’t be confident it was high enough to be a fever, but she filed the thought away for later.

“So…,” Rio started as she pulled out her phone to look up Lilia’s address. “How were the fireworks?”

Agatha sighed heavily. “We didn’t end up staying. Nicky didn’t sleep well last night, which meant I didn’t sleep well last night, and we only made it halfway through the parade before he decided he wanted to go home.” Agatha sniffled and scrunched up her nose again. “Poor kid was practically falling asleep on his dino nuggets. I put him to bed and hh’he was out like a li-ihh­-light.”

The slight hitch of her breath drew Rio’s gaze upwards, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Agatha scratching the bottom of her nose with her thumbnail.

“Oh poor thing,” Rio said, definitely not talking about Agatha; that would be ridiculous. “And how are you feeling? You sure you’re up for a wild party?”

Agatha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I think I can hiih-handle whatever Lilia’s got planned.”

“You sure?” Rio lowered her phone and met Agatha’s eyes. “Because we can just stay in, especially if you didn’t get much sleep last night. I hear they’re letting Andy and Anderson drink on CNN again this year, and we could do those Lego flowers from Christmas and just take it easy.”

Yeah, Rio thought to herself; that was a safe angle to approach it from. Asking outright if she was under the weather was a surefire way to get her to dig her heels in deeper, and while Rio was pretty sure that was going to happen anyway, she wanted to make sure Agatha knew she had an out if she wanted it.

As Rio had predicted though, Agatha shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I already missed the baby fireworks, and I don’t even remember the last time I got to go out for New Year’s, so I’m not missing this.” She punctuated her statement by audibly clearing her throat, and she glared at Rio for noticing. “And I feel fine,” she snapped. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Ok,” Rio raised one hand in a mock surrender. “In that case, it looks like we have a choice between a pretty straightforward thirty minute walk, or we can take an Uber that’ll shave a whole five minutes off that time for…” she refreshed her app and her eyes widened in shock as she wordlessly showed Agatha the inflated price on the screen. “Suddenly I’m thinking it’s a great night for a walk. What about you?”

When she didn’t get an answer right away, Rio glanced up from her phone and took in the dazed look that had settled over Agatha’s features, the way those raspberry lips parted, one hand hovering in front of her mouth as her she scrunched up her nose once more in vain before—“hiET’SHhiew—‘ITSHhyu!” She aimed both sneezes into her elbow at the last second and then sniffled wetly as she rummaged around in her purse for…who the fuck still carried handkerchiefs in the twenty-first century?

“Bless you, bless you,” Rio said lightly, as Agatha blew her nose once, dabbing lightly at her nostrils to keep from completely destroying her foundation. Rio couldn’t help but notice that once she was done, she shoved the handkerchief in her pocket instead of putting it back in her purse.

 “Thanks,” Agatha muttered. “How long did you say the walk was?”

“Google says thirty minutes.”

Agatha gave a haughty sniff as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Closer to twenty if you walk like you live here,” she said. “I vote we do that.”

There was a part of Rio that thought about protesting further, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good, and besides that, Agatha was a grown woman who could listen to her own body. If she wanted to push herself for the sake of a stupid work party then who was Rio to stop her? And also, Rio selfishly really did want to mess up that lipstick against a backdrop of fireworks.

“Alright,” she sighed. “In that case, vamanos.”

With a swish of her long coat, Agatha set off down the block at such a pace that Rio had to jog to catch up.

~**~

Lilia lived on the top floor of a refurbished tenement building in the North End that was all decorative brick work and copper patina on the outside, with an interior that looked authentically pre-war. Which war exactly was anyone’s guess, but Rio was putting money on Civil.

The chilly night air had made both of their noses run, and they paused in front of the elevator to collect themselves. Rio pulled the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and swiped briefly at her nose. Agatha, on the other hand, took a bit longer to recover.

She’d been mostly alright on the walk over as far as Rio could tell—the fresh air really had seemed to be a good move—but now that they were back inside the dry heat of the building, it was clearly taking Agatha a second to gather herself. She had her handkerchief out and was running it on one finger under her eyes and around her nostrils, but her nose, it seemed had other ideas.

Her breath hitched once, twice, and she tipped her head back, her mouth just open enough that Rio could see she was pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to try to hold it back. It wasn’t enough, though, and Agatha let out a particularly vocal gasp right before she pitched forward with an itchy-sounding “hiih’IIShu!”

“Bless you,” Rio said.

“Ugh, thanks,” Agatha grumbled. “Must be the temperature change. I’m fine.”

She at least had the decency to flush as Rio eyed her skeptically, but before Rio could say anything else, Agatha was slipping the handkerchief back in her pocket, sliding open the metal grille in front of the elevator, and waving Rio inside.

“Can you just promise me something?” Rio asked as the elevator groaned and shuddered its way upwards. Agatha didn’t say anything, but she side-eyed Rio curiously. Rio took a deep breath and flexed her fingers at her sides as she said, “Promise me if you reach a point where you want to leave tonight for any reason you’ll tell me?”

“I’m—”

“I know you’re fine,” Rio said. “And I’ll let you be the judge of your own body. I’m just telling you that if you want an out you’ve got one, no questions asked.”

Agatha considered her words for a moment. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, and then she sighed.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

The elevator jolted to a stop and they stepped out into a long hallway. There was music and laughter and a scent that Rio could only identify as ‘miscellaneous party food’ wafting from their left.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess that Lilia’s that way,” she said. She glanced over at Agatha who just tossed her hair over her shoulder, cleared her throat, and sniffed once more before nodding in the direction of the sound.

“Shall we?”

Rio hesitated for just a moment, captivated by the way Agatha’s mask slid so smoothly into place. She had hardly realized just how much she got to see when they were alone until suddenly she was faced with the Agatha that was ready to actually walk into the party.

The little signs were still there: the way that her foundation was starting to separate and smudge around the tip of her nose, the way her lips parted ever so slightly so that she could breathe without the air catching audibly on the building congestion in her sinuses.  It was an impressive performance. Frankly if Rio hadn’t seen evidence to the contrary, she might have even believed Agatha’s little act.

Of course, the fact that she had gotten to see that evidence to the contrary at all—even if Agatha was denying it the whole time—was also not lost on Rio. It made her stupid, lovesick heart flutter in her chest just realizing that Agatha trusted her that much. It was also mildly annoying knowing that it would be that much harder to tell if Agatha reached her limit tonight, but they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

She must have lingered a bit too long, though, because Agatha noticed she wasn’t following and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking pointedly at Rio’s hands.

Rio hadn’t even noticed that she was fluttering her fingers at her sides, but the sudden awareness made her stop and flex her hands.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Rio reached the door at the end of the hall first and knocked right below the brass 4F affixed to it. When no one answered right away, Agatha tried the knob and found that it was already unlocked. She glanced at Rio with a shrug before pushing it all the way open and leading the way inside. 

Rio's first impression upon stepping into Lilia's space was that it perfectly answered the question, "What if an eccentric gender studies professor with a fortune-telling side hustle had lived in the same rent-controlled apartment since the 70s?" which wasn't a question Rio had been asking, but it was nice to have an answer nonetheless. The entry way led into a spacious living room filled with squashy, mismatched furniture. Decorative lamps on various surfaces gave the room a soft, warm glow, and there were tapestries and artwork covering nearly inch of exposed wall. It was inviting and a little overwhelming in the same way that Lilia herself could be and Rio found that she kind of liked it.

Her second impression was that she and Lilia definitely had different ideas of what "not a party" meant. There were far more people than she had expected here. She vaguely recognized some other faculty members and a few of Lilia’s grad students and TAs who hung out around her office a lot, but she was only halfway through her second year of teaching, so there were still more unfamiliar faces than familiar ones.

"Soo…," Agatha started, leaning close to Rio's ear as she slipped out of her coat, "Are we sure that Lilia understands what a party is?”

Rio bit back a laugh as the hostess in question rounded the corner. “Did I hear a knock? I thought I—oh, Rio, you came!”

Before Rio could react, Lilia swept forward and enveloped her in a brief, but warm hug that had Agatha pressing herself flat against the wall to stay out of the way.

“Oh, I’m so glad you were able to make it,” Lilia said. It wasn’t until she stepped back that she seemed to notice Agatha. Something flickered behind her eyes for a fraction of a second before her wide smile was back in place. “Agatha, it’s nice to finally see you outside of the office for a change. Did you two come together?”

“Sort of,” Agatha said at the same instant Rio said, “Kind of.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow, and Rio glanced over at Agatha who was starting to get a sort of dazed look in her eyes, so Rio quickly took over.

“We split an Uber,” she said. “Those holiday prices are crazy, but if the alternative is the green line on New Year’s…” she trailed off with a shrug and an eye roll, and that seemed to be good enough for Lilia. Or at least, if she had further suspicions, she was good enough not to voice them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rio could see Agatha bring her hand in front of her mouth in a loose fist, her thumb resting along her jaw and her first finger pressed against the bottom of her nose. It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary—one thing about Agatha, the woman was always touching her face—but Rio guessed from the way Agatha scrunched up her nose that it was a little more practical at the moment.

Rio was about to come up with some excuse to try to shoo Lilia away, when someone else called her name from elsewhere in the apartment. Lilia glanced in the direction of the voice and sighed.

“I suppose I should go see what all the fuss is about,” she said. "You two feel free to make yourselves at home. There's food in the dining room, drinks in the kitchen, and I think someone brought some..." she mimed smoking a joint as she trailed off, and Agatha snorted. "If you want to do that, though, just do me a favor and take it outside or on the fire escape. The scent lingers in here like nothing else.”

“Understood,” Rio said.

Lilia gave a satisfied nod before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the festivities.

Rio turned towards Agatha just in time to see her shove her face into her bunched up coat and muffle a forceful sneeze into it. She came up for air with a slightly dazed look on her face, her mouth still open in preparation, but after a long moment of anticipation, nothing else happened. Agatha exhaled with an angry huff and hung her coat up on an empty hanger.

Rio did the same after her, except she nearly dropped the hanger when Agatha suddenly swore behind her. Rio whirled around just in time to see Agatha crush her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she pitched forward with a pair of stifled sneezes that were nearly silent save for a soft, choked off little gasp.

 Rio almost felt a little guilty for it, but she couldn’t help noticing just how different these cold sneezes were from Agatha’s allergic fits. It was a strange thing to think about, but with her allergies, Agatha seemed to have some semblance of control, at least at the start. The tickle tended to be a slower, more torturous build that Agatha was shockingly good at hiding, and the sneezes themselves started off as soft, tickly little things that she was scary-good at keeping quiet. This cold, by contrast, seemed to keep her on her toes, sneaking up on her and then backing off just to come back with a vengeance, and Agatha was clearly already getting frustrated.

Agatha released her nose with a heavy sigh and a wet sniffle, and when she noticed Rio looking at her, she frowned.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” Rio said. “Bless you.”

That seemed to soften Agatha around the edges for a moment, and she muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” before she brushed past Rio into rest of the apartment. “Let’s find the kitchen,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

Rio rolled her eyes, but followed along anyway. It was less than two and a half hours to New Year’s, but she had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

~**~

When Lilia had said there were drinks in the kitchen, Rio had expected champagne, some prosecco, maybe some kind of fancy Italian wines and some seltzers in the fridge for the grad students. What she hadn’t expected was a downright undergrad-rager amount of boxed wine and a rainbow of Jell-O shots, but now that she was looking at the spread, she realized that yeah, actually, this kind of tracked.

There was indeed an array of random seltzers and cheap beer in the fridge along with a couple of bottles of something bubbly with sticky notes on them warning that they were not to be touched until midnight. Rio grabbed a mango White Claw and turned around to see Agatha debating between the wine and the shots like it was a matter of life and death. After a moment, she reached a compromise with herself in the form of downing a purple Jell-O shot and then immediately grabbing a plastic cup to fill with room-temperature Franzia, because sure, why not?

“Hey, Rio, you made it!”

Rio spun around to see Alice approaching with a beer in hand and a bright smile on her face.

“Of course,” Rio said. “I wouldn’t miss it!” She took a sip of her seltzer and surveyed the room. “Although there are a lot more people than I expected when Lilia told me specifically that this wasn’t a party.”

“That’s Lilia for you,” Alice said. “Anything less than a full-on rager doesn’t count as a party to her. But for what it’s worth, it’ll probably start to clear out by 11:30ish. Most people just use this as a rest stop for a bit and then walk to the waterfront to catch the fireworks. But they’re missing out because that’s usually about when Lilia gets stoned enough to break out the oracle cards and that’s worth sticking around for.”

“Sounds like fun.” Rio hadn’t even heard Agatha come up behind her, but there she was eyeing Alice over the rim of her plastic cup of cheap wine. “When do we break out the Ouija board and start telling ghost stories?”

“Oh hey, Agatha,” Alice said. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she glanced from Rio to Agatha and back again like she was trying to connect some invisible dots. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, good to see you too,” Agatha said flatly. She took a long sip of her wine, and she held her cup in front of her face a second longer than strictly necessary to block her nose from view as it twitched just the slightest bit. A tense moment passed where Rio couldn’t tell if Agatha was actually going to sneeze or not, but she recovered quickly, lowering her cup and shouldering past Rio towards the dining room. “I’m gonna get some food.”

“Ok, bye, Agatha,” Alice said drily. She shot Rio a look. “I didn’t know you two…”

She trailed off, and the implied ellipsis hanging off Alice’s words felt like a set trap for Rio to walk into. She’d had the feeling that her officemates were starting to suspect something for a while—from the sounds of it there was even a betting pool now—but Rio wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that easily.

It wasn’t so much that they were trying to keep it a secret—sneaking around like teenagers wasn’t really all it cracked up to be when they were both parties involved were closer to fifty than fifteen—but with a kid in the mix, and Rio being so new, and Agatha’s…well, being Agatha, they just…never really cared to make a grand announcement to their colleagues. At some point it would come out, that much they both knew, but for now it was still sort of thrilling to have such a secret that was theirs and theirs alone.

So it was with all of that in mind, that Rio managed to say, “Lilia’s the one who invited her.” She took a swig of her seltzer and wished she had grabbed something harder. “We just split an Uber here.”

“Ah, sure,” Alice said. “It’s just funny; Lilia’s been trying to get her to come to stuff for years now, but this is the first time she’s actually shown. I wonder what changed.”

“Yeah,” Rio mused as she watched Agatha disappear around a corner. “I wonder.”

“Ok, well…” Alice bounced on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands together as she took a slow step back. “I need to track down an HDMI cord to try to set up karaoke, but I’ll be around.”

“I’ll see you,” Rio said.

She gave Alice a half-hearted wave and then followed Agatha’s trail into the cramped dining room where she found Agatha trapped in conversation with a short woman with a neat blonde bob who Rio vaguely recognized from the…admissions office? Student life? Something like that.

Whatever they were talking about, Agatha hardly seemed to be in the mood for it, but the woman clearly wasn’t taking the hint. Agatha had her hand in front of her face again, the knuckle of her first finger moving slowly back and forth under her nose as she nodded absently, her attention clearly more on her nose than her conversation partner.

If Rio had felt a little guilty about watching before, she felt downright voyeuristic now. From the corner of the doorway, Rio had a perfect view of Agatha’s profile, and she watched with rapt attention as Agatha managed to wrestle the tickle back long enough to interject.

“That sounds great, Sharon, but you see, the problem is that I don’t want to, so…” she trailed off with a contemptuous, open-handed shrug, and the woman—Sharon, apparently—just laughed.

“Oh, I’ll get you one of these days!” She wagged a finger playfully in Agatha’s direction before glancing down at her empty cup. “I’m gonna get some more wine, but I’ll email you once we get back on campus!”

“I’ll delete it,” Agatha called after her in a mocking tone.

She waited until Sharon was safely out of the room before whirling around and coughing into her elbow. She recovered quickly enough, but kept her arm in front of her face for a moment too long. Rio could see her shoulders tense and then release as she smothered a trio of sneezes against her sleeve, each tripping over the next like they had taken umbrage at being held back for so long. “Hiih’TSHh!-h’TSHh-TCHhu!”

“Bless you,” Rio said.

Agatha startled at the sound of her voice and spun around to glare at her.

“I’m fine,” Agatha said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t even ask.”

“Well you were thinking it and that’s bad enough,” Agatha snapped.

Her voice was starting to take on a more noticeably-congested edge, and Rio found herself wondering if she’d have to put her foot down at some point. Either Agatha was a better liar than Rio had thought if she had been feeling this bad this whole time, or she was going downhill faster than Rio had assumed she would, and frankly Rio wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Is this where the…oh. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Rio and Agatha both spun around to find Jennifer Kale smirking at them from the doorway like she very much hoped she was, in fact, interrupting something.

“You wish,” Agatha growled. “What do you want, Jen?”

“Maybe to socialize?” Jen said slowly like she was trying to explain the concept to a child. “At a social event? Although I can’t imagine you have much experience with those.”

“Can it, Kale,” Agatha snapped. She took a long sip of her wine and shouldered past Jen on her way back into the kitchen. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Nice to see you too, Agatha!” Jen called after her. She turned back to Rio and rolled her eyes. “You really can’t take her anywhere, can you?”

The question felt equal parts loaded and rhetorical, and given Jen’s…history with Agatha, Rio figured her safest option was to plead the fifth. She ignored Jen’s pointed smirk and took another long drink of her seltzer.

“Well, forget her,” Jen said. “I was actually hoping to run into you here. I heard back from my mother about those old Home Garden magazines we were talking about? She found some of my grandmother’s old issues, and she said she’ll send them out to me next week. I can bring them into the office when they get here if you want to go through them.”

“Oh, sweet!”  Rio had been working for most of the fall on a proposal for a class on Victory Gardens and the development of urban home gardening, and some of the earliest primary sources had proven to be a bit of a bitch to track down. “Yeah, I’ll be in and out of the office the next few weeks before the semester starts, but I’d love to get my hands on anything you’ve got.”

“Cool,” Jen said. “I’ll keep you posted.” She gave Rio a soft smile and looked like she was about to say something else, but Rio took the pause as an excuse to slip away.

“I’m gonna go mingle a bit more. You know, network or whatever, but I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Jen said. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

Rio grabbed a star-shaped sugar cookie off a platter at the end of the dining table and popped it into her mouth as she slipped out into the living room before Jen could say anything else.

Agatha was across the room, in another tense conversation with a woman Rio definitely recognized from the library, but she couldn’t quite place the name. Dottie? Sarah, maybe? Either way, Agatha saw Rio looking and shot her a sharp glare. Rio took the hint and headed over to where Alice was fussing with Lilia’s ancient CRT TV.

It turned out it didn’t even have an HDMI port, which meant the karaoke idea was getting nixed, but after a little bit of snooping in the cabinet underneath, Rio found a dusty plug-and-play joystick with a collection of old arcade games that was still in working order, and it only took a few rounds of Frogger before a full-on tournament broke out.

Rio lost sight of Agatha as a small crowd started to gather around the TV, but despite that, if she was being honest, she was kind of actually starting to have a good time. As the clock ticked ever closer to midnight, the crowd did in fact start to thin out, and those who were left were mostly reaching a pleasant state of being under their influence of choice. Conversation and laughter flowed easily, and Rio found herself suitably distracted from worrying about Agatha.

That was, at least, until she caught sight of Agatha slipping away from the rest of the party, making a beeline for the bathroom down the hall with her hand against her face.

That got Rio distracted enough that she ran Ms. Pacman straight into a pixelated ghost to a collective groan from her audience, but Rio found herself not really caring. She passed the joystick off to Alice who was going for the high score on Galaga, and picked her way out of the crowd.

“You good?” Jen asked.

“Yeah,” Rio said. “I’m just gonna grab another drink.”

She headed into the kitchen and grabbed another seltzer—a wild berry Truly this time—and made a pit stop in the dining room to grab a couple of those sugar cookies in a napkin before following Agatha’s path down the hall towards the bathroom. She was barely halfway to the door when she heard the unmistakable sounds of Agatha…well, struggling.

“Hih-TSSHhiu! Heihh-hhETshiw!” Rio heard what she assumed was a hand slamming down hard on the edge of the sink, followed by harsh fit of coughing that only seemed to feed back into the cycle as Agatha paused just long to inhale sharply before—“HHET’Sshiu! Motherfucker!”

“Agatha?” Rio knocked lightly on the door with her knuckle. “It’s just me. You ok?”

“F-fuck off,” Agatha growled. Her voice was really starting to go now—it sounded low and scratchy, cracking between syllables—and though she made a point of turning on the water in the sink, Rio could still hear her sniffling miserably.

“Agatha, come on, don’t do this to yourself.”

She got no response to that, presumably because Agatha knew that her voice wasn’t helping her case at this point. Rio checked the time on her phone; it was after eleven now. If she’d known a few hours ago that this was where they were going to end up, she’d have put her foot down at the start. She should have pushed harder when Agatha was still malleable. Now it felt like she was talking to a brick wall. Or a closed wooden door, she supposed.

Just as she was about to get up to go back to the party, she heard Agatha clear her throat.

“If I’b bothering you so mbuch you can just fucki’g leave,” she snapped.

“Agatha, that’s not…” Rio trailed off as Agatha’s words actually hit her.

Oh.

So that’s what this was all about.

“Listen,” Rio said. “I’m not leaving you. Not because of the party and definitely not because you’re sick. You’re kind of fucking stuck with me whether you like it or not, and I’ll give you space, but I’m not leaving you. Take as much time as you need. I’m heading back out to the living room, but I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready.”

The water stopped running and Rio could hear Agatha sniffle again. She didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t really have to. It was enough just for Rio to know she was actually listening. As she started to turn away, she suddenly remembered the cookies in her hand.

“Oh, and I brought you a little something to eat. They’re right out here if you want them.”

There was a narrow little table with a collection of candles and crystals next to the bathroom door, and Rio set the napkin-wrapped cookies on edge before she headed back down the hallway. When she reached the end, she heard the bathroom door open and shut, and when she turned around, the cookies were gone.

~**~

By 11:30, the party was smaller, but rowdier than ever. Lilia, who had been out on the fire escape more than once, was giggling her way through a tarot reading for Jen over the arm of the other couch. There was music blasting from someone’s phone, and a cheer went up as Alice finally broke her high score. Everyone that was left was talking or laughing, and it was easy enough for Rio to slip back into the fray and plop herself on an overstuffed couch cushion without so much as a glance her way.

The minutes seemed to drag by impossibly slow. 11:45 turned to :50, turned to :55, and Rio was starting to think she might have to press her luck and check on Agatha again when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and speak of the devil, there she was. Her hair obscured most of her face so Rio couldn’t get a great look at her, but she tapped Rio’s shoulder and nodded towards the fire escape, and that was all Rio needed to scramble to her feet and follow her.

There was no one out there at this time of night; everyone left was inside, watching reluctantlyas Alice unplugged the game and tuned the TV in to the Times Square ball drop. Agatha slipped out the open window onto the metal platform, and before Rio could even process what they were doing, Agatha grabbed the railing of the narrow stairs leading up towards the roof and started to climb.

“Ok, not that I’m not glad you’re out here again, but what are the fuck are you doing?” Rio asked, trying not to notice just how high above the city streets they were.

Agatha paused and looked back at her. “I wa’t to watch the fireworks.”

She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it had been her plan this whole time, and though Rio hated the thought of setting foot on those narrow, creaking stairs, she had to admit that, yeah, she very much did want to watch the fireworks too.

She followed Agatha, and they both scrambled over the lip at the top. After the hazy warmth of Lilia’s apartment, the chill breeze was a welcome change, and Rio had to admit, the view was nice from up here. Rio checked the time on her phone. Two minutes to midnight, and she swore could feel it in the air.

“You don’t have to kiss mbe or adythi’g,” Agatha said. “I just thought this mbight be dice.”

Ninety seconds to midnight.

“Would you stop me if I did?” Rio asked.

Agatha scoffed. “You’d really risk catchi’g this?”

“What can I say?” Rio shrugged. “I’m feeling lucky this year.”

“But I’b gross.”

Rio pressed her cold hand against Agatha’s fever-warm cheek—oh yeah, she was definitely going downhill—and guided her gaze up so she could take her first good look at Agatha’s face in the moonlight.

Agatha’s bright blue eyes were watering so badly it looked like she was crying, and though her mascara had held up valiantly for the last few hours, it was starting to smudge in earnest now. The makeup around her nose was a patchy mess, clinging to the dry, reddened skin where it hadn’t been rubbed off entirely. Her lipstick had honestly held up surprisingly well, although the edges were starting to get fuzzy. All of that coupled with her irritated frown as she sniffled and wrinkled her nose again made her look so pathetically adorable that Rio could almost melt.

“See that’s the funny thing,” Rio said. “You’re saying gross, but all I’m seeing is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Agatha blushed furiously, but she let Rio pull her closer.

Ten seconds to midnight.

The air was humming with electric energy. Rio was sure there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.

Five!

They could hear the countdown from all directions.

Four!

Agatha swore as her nose twitched and she aimed a loud “Hh-ITShoo!” into her shoulder.

Three!

Agatha sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Two!

“Last cha’dce to back out.”

One!

Rio smirked. “Not on your life.”

Happy New Year!

All at once, the city erupted around them, but Rio hardly paid it any mind as her lips met Agatha’s, waiting and eager, and for a moment, they were the only two people in the world. Rio could taste the artificial vanilla of Agatha’s lipstick, could feel Agatha’s poor, abused nose against her cheek as she tangled her fingers in Agatha’s hair and savored absolutely everything about the moment.

Agatha was the first to turn away, gasping for breath that couldn’t break through the wall of congestion in her nose, but she didn’t pull away from Rio’s arms.

They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together as the fireworks over the water lit up the night sky around them.

“Rio?” Agatha finally croaked.

“Yeah, love?”

 “I dod’t feel very well,” Agatha said. She let her shoulders drop and rested her head on Rio’s shoulder so that her next words came out even softer. “I thigk I’b ready to leave ndow.”

“Oh, you are, huh?”

Agatha nodded weakly against Rio’s neck. Rio bit back a chuckle and carded her fingers through Agatha’s hair, which just made Agatha press closer. She was for sure running a fever now, but Rio didn’t think she needed to say that part out loud.

The fireworks were starting to die down now. The city that slept by 10pm was already quieting again, and a cool breeze blew across the rooftop, making them both shiver. That was enough to finally spur Rio into action. Despite Agatha’s low whine of protest, Rio took a step back, and reached into Agatha’s pocket to find her crumpled handkerchief. She offered it to Agatha who rolled her rheumy eyes, but accepted it gratefully and set about wiping away the tear tracks and the smudged eye makeup. There wasn’t much she could do for her foundation at this point, but after a moment she managed to pull herself back to some semblance of her usual self.

“Ready?”

“H-hold on.” Agatha held up one finger as she inhaled a shaky breath. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parted, and she stayed like that for a long moment, before—

Fuck, I lost it.” Agatha scrubbed at her nose with the crumpled handkerchief in frustration before flipping her hair over her shoulder and following Rio to the edge of the roof to step gingerly back onto the fire escape.

The party was well and truly winding down now, but those that were left seemed occupied with champagne and company, so no one seemed to notice when Rio and Agatha slipped back inside. For a second, Rio almost thought they could make a clean break for it. They’d grab their coats and slip outside, and Rio would text Lilia a brief goodbye once they were in the Uber back to Agatha’s place.

That kind of luck didn’t seem to be on their side, though, because Lilia caught them as they passed the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, Rio, are you leaving?”

Rio stopped dead in her tracks like she’d been caught sneaking in after curfew. She could feel Agatha stiffen and clear her throat next to her.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Rio said with a nervous glance at Agatha. “It’s getting late and—”

“I have to let the babysitter go,” Agatha chimed in. “Rio offered to split a car.”

Her voice was fading in earnest now, but Rio noticed how carefully she was choosing her words so at least she didn’t sound too congested on top of it. Her explanation seemed to be enough for Lilia, who smiled at them both.

“Well, get home safe,” she said. “Happy New Year! And Agatha, I hope you feel better soon!”

Agatha’s jaw dropped and she looked like she was contemplating homicide or suicide or both, but Rio just gave her a shove in the direction of the door and gave Lilia a soft “Happy New Year,” and a shy wave in return.

She grabbed both of their coats out of the closet with one hand while she pulled up Uber on her phone with the other. No way they were doing that walk again tonight.

“Ok, driver’ll be here in three minutes,” Rio said.

When Agatha didn’t respond right away, Rio looked up to see her frozen in pre-sneeze torture, her lips parted, eyelashes fluttering, brows knitting together as she took a breath in, and then—

“Oh fuck mbe!” Agatha scowled and pinched the bridge of her nose hard.

“Oh, pobrecita,” Rio breathed. “Let’s get you home.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything, the lost sneeze snuck back up on her with a vengeance just as Jen and Alice passed by on their way to the kitchen.

“HHT’SCHiu!”

“Bless you, Agatha!”

“Fuck off, Jen!” Agatha called back.

With that, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, held her flaming cheeks high, and stalked out of Lilia’s apartment, leaving Rio to call out a soft, “Happy New Year, guys!” before jogging to catch up.

~**~

The ride back to Agatha’s place was short and quiet, and even though she hadn’t strictly been invited, Rio followed Agatha inside where Agatha paid the babysitter, kicked off her shoes, and tossed her coat in the vague direction of the coatrack before throwing herself down onto the couch in the parlor.

Rio had been in Agatha’s house more than a few times, but this—Agatha being this miserable in her own home—was new enough territory that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She shed her own coat and shoes, and picked up Agatha’s so at least they wouldn’t be a tripping hazard later, and returned to stand behind the couch.

Agatha had one hand dangling towards the floor and the other over her eyes like if she blocked her vision, she could pretend the night had gone differently.

“So,” Rio started carefully. “What are you thinking? Do you want me to stay?”

Agatha moved the hand over her face and looked up at Rio with red, watery, exhausted eyes.

“I cad take care of byself,” she said.

“I know you can. That’s not what I’m asking.” Rio leaned over the back of the couch and reached one hand down to brush a lock of hair out of Agatha’s face, curling it gently around her finger. “Do you want me to stay?”

“You’ll get sick,” Agatha whined.

“Again, not what I’m asking. And for what it’s worth, you did have your tongue in my mouth less than an hour ago, so I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.”

Agatha started to laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough that only seemed to irritate her nose as she quickly brought her hands up to cover an itchy sneeze. “hH-IItschu!”

“Salud, baby.”

“Thagks,” Agatha grumbled. She sniffled wetly and wiped her nose roughly on her sleeve. “Ugh, feel gross! I hate bei’g sick.”

Rio bit back a laugh. “I don’t think most people really enjoy it.” She had moved from playing with Agatha’s hair to scratching lightly at her scalp. Agatha’s eyes fell closed and she moaned into Rio’s touch.

“Let me ask a different way,” Rio said. “Do you want me to leave?”

Agatha’s eyes opened again, and when she looked up at Rio with her flushed cheeks and her sniffly nose, Rio felt like she could melt into a puddle on the spot. The flush in Agatha’s cheeks deepened as she slowly shook her head no.

“Ok,” Rio said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Shut up,” Agatha muttered without any bite.

“Ignoring that because you’re sick,” Rio said.  “Now what do you say we get you somewhere more comfortable than the couch so you can get some actual rest, hm?”

It took a few more minutes of gentle prodding from Rio to get Agatha to her feet and up the stairs, but once she was moving, she seemed to be able to handle herself. She poked her head into Nicky’s room before heading to her own room to change while Rio busied herself digging around in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

All Agatha seemed to have was a bottle of Advil, a box of Zyrtec, and a mostly-empty bottle of grape-flavored children’s cold medicine that was missing the measuring cup. Rio vowed to make a supply run in the morning, but for now, the Advil was probably better than nothing. She filled a glass with water from the sink, and then grabbed the allergy meds for good measure and headed for Agatha’s bedroom.

Agatha had already changed into an oversized t-shirt with an ambiguous number three on it, and a pair of worn flannel shorts that were practically indecent. She’d pulled her hair into a loose bun, and she was just finishing wiping off the last of her makeup with a wipe that she tossed carelessly in the direction of the trash can. It missed by a long shot, but Rio thought it was cute that she’d tried.

“Here,” Rio said, holding out the water and two ibuprofen tablets. “You didn’t have much, but this should help keep your fever down.” Agatha took the meds and washed them down without protest, and Rio offered her the box of allergy meds. “I don’t know if these’ll do much, but they might at least take the edge off until I can run out to the store tomorrow.”

Agatha’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “About that…”

“What are you…?” Rio trailed off as she pulled the blister pack out of the box and found it completely empty. “Why was this still in the cabinet if you knew it was empty?”

“To remind myself to buy more,” Agatha said like it was completely obvious and not actually one of the most ridiculous things Rio had ever heard.

“Ok, scratch that then.” Rio tossed the empty package into the trash can. “Do you want anything else?”

Agatha shook her head as she set her water on the nightstand.

“Just hurry up and c’mere,” she said, making grabby hands in Rio’s general direction. It was quite possibly the cutest thing Rio had ever seen, and she wiggled out of her nice jeans and into a spare set of pajamas as fast as she could so she could crawl under the covers with Agatha, who immediately attached herself to Rio’s side.

“I’b sorry I was a bitch earlier,” Agatha mumbled.

Rio chuckled as she leaned her cheek against the top of Agatha’s head. “Lucky for you, I kind of like it when you’re a bitch, because I know you don’t mean it.” Agatha grumbled something unintelligible against her neck, but Rio continued, “And because the sooner you get being a bitch out of your system, the sooner we get to do this.”

“Love you,” Agatha mumbled sleepily.

“Y yo a ti, mi amor,” Rio said. She reached back to turn off the lamp on the bedside table and then pressed her lips against Agatha’s warm forehead as she settled back down.

Agatha was already out, her breathing coming in congested little snores that made Rio’s lips twitch into a smile as she felt her own eyes growing heavy. Her last conscious thought before she slipped into sleep herself was that there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be starting the new year.

[boiledpanini]

Klangst fic

fair warning I have very little writing experience

this is based off of “Rose’s Turn”

Hope you enjoy!

All that work and what did it get me?

Lance could feel the heat, the anger, rising in his chest.

Why did I do it?

He gave everything to this team. To this coalition. And what had they done in return?

Scrapbooks full of me in the background

They had let the one thing he had die. Keith was gone, and none of them had even tried to save him.

Give them love and what does it get you? What does it get you?

He loved his team. He really, truly, thought he did. But they had made their minds up the moment they turned around, leaving Keith trapped in the Galran ship they had doomed to explode.

One quick look as each of them leaves you.

Lance walked with more purposefully than he ever had. He knew what he had to do. His rage was rising, coming to a boiling point that no one could stop before it spilled over.

All your life and what does it get you? What does it get you?

Keith had lost his youth to them. To these aliens who didn’t even appreciate his efforts. Now he had lost his life, and they still couldn’t give some semblance of remorse?

“Thanks a lot” and out with the garbage

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

They take bows, and you’re battin’ zero

They would feel remorse. But it was already much too late.

The rest of the team was so high and mighty, weren’t they? Always so much better, so much more mature than he or Keith could be. How tragic, Lance thought, that those things couldn’t save them now. Nothing would.

I had a dream

Lance had wanted this once. He wanted to come to space, to be a pilot.

I dreamed it for you, Shiro

And who had inspired him, but his dear leader. He still remembered seeing Shiro’s face on TV for the first time when he was younger.

It wasn’t for me, Shiro

Would Lance be here, if it wasn’t for that television broadcast? Was all of this a misguided pipe-dream?

And if it wasn’t for me, then where would you be-Team Voltron?

Without him, without Keith, there would be no Voltron. The others were ungrateful. Unappreciative on the sacrifices they made, focusing only on themselves.

Well, someone tell me when is it my turn?

It ended today. They didn’t matter now. They never had, not next to Keith. Lance would get what he wanted this time. And he wanted them gone.

Don’t I get a dream for myself?

He didn’t need to be a paladin anymore. He didn’t need to worry about them. All he had to do was be patient, get their quintessence, and bring back what really mattered.

Starting now it’s gonna be my turn.

As he reached the ship’s core, he almost could’ve laughed. They really were getting a taste of their own medicine! They could die on a burning ship, just as Keith had!

Gangway world, get off of my runway!

As dumb as he acted, Lance was smart. He knew that once the others were gone, their quintessence would end up in the lions. From there, he would take it and use it to restore Keith. He would be remade- brought back just as he had been.

Starting now I bat a thousand

The bomb wasn’t hard to plant. Not enough to entirely destroy the ship -Lance still might need some of the supplies- but enough that the other paladins would come running.

This time, boys, I’m taking the bows- and

Their clambering about the room would set off the other bombs, and that would be the end of it. Lance would get what he wanted.

Everything’s coming up Lance

He set the final wires into place and worked the timer.

Everything’s coming up McClain

He hoped Keith would understand. Of course he would, right? 

Everything’s coming up Lance, this time for me

As the timer ticked down, Lance smiled. Yes, Keith would understand. This was just the beginning of their story. He made his way to his escape pod, laughing harder than he ever thought he could.

For me

5

For me!

4

For me!

3

For me!

2

For me!

1

FOR ME!

Boom.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[009720kakashi]

narasnooze

"Oh, I don't know. It was the first thing that came to mind." he snapped back, but not with full force. There was in fact a very small smile of amusement there for a mere second. About the apparent plant named Ukki... he only gave Kakashi a weird look. "I'm... going to do us both a favour and not ask."

Now that he had calmed down, scolded enough and pictured Kakashi as a farmer, straw hat and all, he listened more carefully to the other man's question.

"Yes. No. Yes." he replied to each, looking over another document as he did. "I never wanted to become a shinobi. I think that showed. But, no... I had no choice. None what so ever. I only became truly serious about getting better, stronger, smarter when– well.. And now, here I am. Head of my clan which means I definitely has no say. Ironic, isn't it? ...I wouldn't mind beans. They're great."

"How dare you. I'm not even close to his standards. Maybe he'd be a far better assistant to you, though. We should look into that. Maybe he'd be overjoyed..!~"

"What's with that look?"he asked, arching both eyebrows though the scar on the left did not let it go just as high as the right.

"It's actually a miracle it's still alive considering that I basically have not been home between the ages of 12 and 20...hard to eradicate the little guy...just like me." Well that was definitely true for both of them. He also definitely exaggerated by saying he had not been home for 8 years. Of course he had been and then he had remembered to water poor Mr. Ukki. Still the plant had endured quite some drought periods.

It was no surprise really. Kakashi did not asked why though. The reason was obvious and Shikamaru had always been clever. It was a shitty job. Plain and simple. At the end of the day you were mosty paid for horrific tasks. Most kids going for it simply did not really understand it. How could they?  

"Maa that much is true" he admitted, closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We absolutely should not do that...I would not get any work done...nothing at all...because he means well" he replied. Gai knew that he did not exactly enjoy this job. In order to make him feel better he might even prevent him from doing the work and get him out of his office constantly for completely stupid reasons. Kakashi might even enjoy that more. It would not get the job done though. 

"He even requested...or more demand to join ANBU when h was a teen because he thought I was doing well." Of course that had not stayed a secret. Sure Gai had ask the Hokage directly but the Hokage was guarded by ANBU. Of course Kakashi had heard about it eventually. He had never adressed it though.

Maybe he could, maybe not. Nara Shikamaru did have quite the different side himself. Kakashi had gotten a glimpse of it on occasion.

"A bean farmer? The first alternative career choice you see for me is s bean farmer? Well I never thought about it though the only plant I manage to keep alive is Mr. Ukki so I'm not certain I'm cut out to be a farmer of any kind."

He had never thought about becoming anything but a Ninja. Not even as a child.

"Did you ever consider not becoming a Shinobi? Was there a choice for you? I mean we of course do have civilians in the village but coming from certain families sure makes it more difficult to choose a different path ne?"

Especially considering that the Nara, Akimichi and Yamanaka clan had worked so well together in the previous generation.

Also children mostly did what their parents wanted them to do. For the next generation of children it would be different.

"So what shall Konoha strife to excel in if not Ninja? There is in fact a report somewhere concerning that particular topic" he said and finally sat down next to Shikamaru.

"Also you enjoy pestering me... just like Gai."

[winteriron-trash]

rdj the (whitewashed) electric boogaloo

This is a reminder to everyone who's excited about RDJ's casting as Doctor Doom that this casting is whitewashing. Victor Von Doom is a Romani character and has been a Romani character since his introduction in the 1960s. (Fantastic Four Annual #2 [1964]) Not only that, but his Roma identity and the persecution he and his family faced due to it is integral to his character, it is what forms his identity. (Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker) Even if on the off chance this casting is meant to not be Victor but instead be some variant of Tony or whomever else becoming Doctor Doom, it is damaging to the character to rob him of that important cultural background. Doctor Doom does not exist without that history. Fans have been pushing hard to cast Doom as a Romani actor for years, especially since the MCU has whitewashed other Romani characters. (Wanda, Pietro, etc) This casting is not a celebration moment, it's fucking heartbreaking that the MCU repeatedly ignores the important and nuanced cultural backstories of characters.

I know I can't change anybody's mind on whether or not you want to be excited about RDJ's return to the MCU. But I do think at the very least you should be mad that the MCU is baiting us all and destroying nuanced and interesting characters for the sake of self-referential easter eggs and nostalgia bait. Because that's what it is. Feel how you'd like to feel about RDJ's return, but personally, this is soul-sucking. I had such a deep love for the MCU as a teenager, it was obviously something incredibly formative to me, especially Tony Stark. This isn't recreating what I fell in love with the MCU for. This is turning a well-planned and artistic storyline of adaptations into cheap cash grabs and fan service. Because, I think we're past the point of being able to call the MCU an adaptation of anything. They can use existing characters' names and powers, but to say they're being properly adapted is laughable.

This is not an adaptation of Doctor Doom. This is RDJ the Electric Boogaloo because Marvel's fear of losing the interest of dedicated MCU fans overrides their willingness to tell stories that are genuine to the characters. I don't know what there is to be excited about that. The MCU has lost its authenticity and aside from a few projects, feels heartless. Every movie is a copy of a copy. This announcement isn't something celebratory, it feels like a death knell of a cinematic universe that's so desperate to cling to relevancy it's resorting to nostalgia for a character/actor who hasn't even been dead for a decade. We're not getting anything new, we're just rinsing and repeating the same song and dance.

I get it. I love Tony Stark, his death destroyed me and I to this day, rue the ending he got in Endgame. It misunderstood his arc and it robbed him of a satisfying conclusion. But the solution to that isn't dragging the corpse out of the grave five years later to whitewash an existing character with rich and interesting nuance, just to forcibly tie his existence in the MCU to Tony. Whether he is a variant or not. Why would you want someone else's fave's legacy to be destroyed simply so your fave's legacy can go on? Hell, if we were really all so hellbent on the return of RDJ and/or Tony to the MCU, we have the multiverse for a reason. There were other ways to do it that didn't whitewash and ruin someone else. This just. Isn't something to be happy about.

[telesodalite]

I need to be weirder about the scavengers and cannibalism...

[triglycercule]

all i have been able to think about today is that silly little knife game where you stab the spots between your fingers and try not to hurt yourself and how that silly little game is SO horrorkiller. i cant explain it it bothers me so much that i cant explain it but it just does its so them

they play it when theyre bored. because when in doubt bodily mutilation and the risk of hurt and pain is always an appealing one. and when i mean they i just mean killer because horror wouldn't wanna just hurt himself on the fly like that for funsies. he likes to see others hurt because hahaha FINALLY some damn entertainment!!! but hurting himself???? nononnno hes already got enough body pain as it is oh and killer has already grabbed his hand and started playing (and now horror can't back out because killer's got him sucked in the game)

they sing the silly little song. horror has all his fingers the knife goes chop chop chop if killer misses the spaces in between horror's fingers will come off! and they are both enraptured and both captured in this childishly morbid game. it's so anticipatory because they both know its all up to killer to decide if horror gets hurt. hes more than precise enough to keep the game going for hours long without ever hitting horror but would he want to keep it going for that long? horror doesn't know how long killer would want to wait before getting to see him react to getting hurt

and killer does eventually do it even after theyre sung the song over and over countless times and tried different harmonies and finally killer decides to end this little song and dance and stab into horror's hand. maybe he decides to do a finger. maybe the palm if he really wants to piss horror up. its sudden its surprising and GODDAMN is it painful!!!! horror's trying not to show it but with all the sweat and the way his fingers are twitching killer can see that it hurts him. it's a bit amusing :3

and then horror grabs the knife from killer and they do it all over again but this time horror's the one doing the stabbing. he's not as precise as killer. he hits him a lot more than killer hit him but goddamn it he is in PAIN and wants to let it out because hes annoying and irritated and goddamnit would killer just stop looking at him with that blank smile while he's bleeding out from his hand???? yeah horror's pissy

horror's annoyed and trying to get some form of petty revenge on killer (he likes it when he finally manages to get that stupid smile to falter just a little bit) and killer's watching horror desperately try not to just stab the knife through his oh so very exposed soul that he could very easily hurt if he really wanted to hurt killer. anyways the game finally ends when either one or both of them get bored! but thats fine!!! killer will get bored again and horror will end up escalating it to a messier point than it was before and the only thing that'll get hurt is the surface that they use to stab between fingers. oh and eachother of course :p

[james-spooky]

this is a test