#hopefully Austin’s past makes sense to you??

[its-short-for-jackalope]

OKAY, WE GOT A TRAILER AND A TITLE AND I HAVE THOUGHTS

You know what that means: it's brainrot time.

🏝 TITLE REVEAL: WHO IS THE SEARCHER IN THE SHADOWS?

quick note, I love this title. It's rad as hell. 10/10. anyway—

of course when I hear the word "Searcher" I immediately think of the one and only Addison Arvad, missing captain of the Antikythera and beloved wrecker of journals.

look at her. I love her. she's beautiful. also I am lowkey obsessed with how Jackie draws hair. (please teach me your secrets.)

We didn't get to learn much about Capt. Arvad in episode 3, but we do know that she was a Searcher who disappeared without any explanation, along with the rest of her crew. Kal probably had something to do with it, since he was attempting to retrieve the ship's orrery and said some vague stuff about fog and vortices, but even he doesn't seem to know exactly what happened to her and the crew.

Whatever the case, her disappearance is the reason most of the events in TGOA even happened, so it would make sense for her to be a big part of the next episode. And if Addison is the Searcher and the Searcher is in the shadows, then I have two (and a half?) theories.

The first is that she (and her crew, if they survived, who are also presumably all Searchers) are lost somewhere and that whatever "fogging the vertices" entails led to her getting whisked away somewhere else. She could be trapped there, trying to get out, and/or maybe she is in shadows in the same way Margaret was—maybe she has lost her memories and her magic.

The second theory is actually an idea @man-down-in-hatchet-town proposed that promptly blew my mind: what if whatever happened to Addison led to her getting corrupted and going dark and she is the villain of the episode? I honestly love this idea so much and I think it would be fun and also delightfully heartbreaking after hearing that entry from Addison's journal and getting a glimpse of the person she once was.

(also every pulp fan I know is in complete agreement that we want a cool female villain, pretty please Matt— 🥺🙏)

🏝 OH GOD, THE TIME TRAVEL

I've already yelled a bit about Rose being separated from Samuel and the others, so I'm not gonna repeat myself here, but I also have other thoughts about the time travel!

The trailer has confirmed that Rose was indeed sent two weeks into the past like Ahlaam said she would be. I think it's safe to assume that Rose will have to wait those two weeks until she can reunite with the others, and I also believe we're gonna have to wait with her.

Rose’s two weeks are going to be important—she's meeting Dakkar and hopefully getting some Travelore™ about the island and The Blazing World, and probably getting into some sort of trouble that better not require a printing press plate to resolve, since she doesn’t have it right now—so I don’t think they're going to just blip by. Otherwise what’s the point of sending her back in time?

I think it’s a pretty safe bet that we (the listeners) are probably going to be doing some time travel ourselves, hopping between Rose's two weeks with Dakkar and the rest of the brick family in the present as Sia takes them to the island and they get started on all that mysterious work they have to do. I have no idea what they're going to find there except maybe a rocket? but I can imagine Samuel and the others following Rose's trail as they piece together what's happened to her and learn about this place and its inhabitants, and then the storylines will connect by the end of the episode and we'll get the twins back together and they'll never be separated again!

Isn't that right, Mr. Dahan?

/lh

Alternatively, I suppose the Ellen Austin could be met on the shore by a Rose who has already spent two weeks on the island and then we could get relevant flashbacks here and there, but I don't think that's as likely. It might be too impractical for this medium when we have a lot of story (and lore) to cover and only so much time to sing about it! Plus, that"By the time our heroes are reunited" bit really makes me think that they won't see each other until closer to the end of the episode. The reunion is absolutely gonna make me cry. I can't wait.

🏝 TRAVELER ISLAND, BABEY!

The island's inhabitants have magic similar to Margaret's, and are led by a new group of powerful Travelers.

...Well, maybe it's not Traveler island, exactly. I'm guessing that most of these ~inhabitants~ are actually Searchers. Sia might not be the only Traveler, but I don't think there are a lot of them out there. It makes more sense for there to be less Travelers and more Searchers to balance things out if the Travelers are significantly more powerful like they've been implied to be.

I definitely think Ahlaam is one of the "new group of powerful Travelers" and I'm super excited to get to know her more. (I am also hoping that maybe we'll get a Jackie Traveler character? 👀) I still don't know if Dakkar is a Traveler or not, but I'm inclined to believe he might be a Searcher—mostly because his portrait doesn't have glowing eyes and flashy gold jewelry like Sia or Ahlaam. (I also feel like it may not be a coincidence that he's wearing a light blue-ish colored shirt like Addison, even if it's a different style and looks considerably less like a space suit, lol.)

They speak of a lost kingdom, The Blazing World, and how what occurs on Lincoln Island will impact an entire civilization.

The Blazing World!!! Rose hasn't heard this name yet, but we have! (and Margaret and Samuel.) The people on Lincoln Island could be survivors/refugees from the Blazing World, or perhaps they are all here on a war mission and this is simply their base of operations. Either way, I'm sure the civilization being impacted is the Travelers'; even if this island isn't currently sheltering all that remains of their people and this is only an outpost for the war, they still have some valuable people here—like Margaret, who is recovering her memories and I am certain has an incredibly vital role to play in this war—and the aftermath of whatever happens will undoubtedly be felt beyond the shores of Lincoln Island. Either our heroes succeed in whatever they're trying to do here, or it goes wrong and the Blazing World potentially loses valuable warriors & resources, and the war against Itzal takes a turn for the worse.

🏝 THE "D" WORD: DESTINY

By the time our heroes are reunited, they will be closer to understanding their destinies than ever before...

Destiny... oh, I've had many thoughts about this and been part of multiple discussions with various friends about fate and coincidence and puzzle pieces coming together in this story. enough that I'm almost not sure where to start.

...Eh, chronologically, I guess.

1817 — the year the Stratford family paper stand was established and the year Anna Hanover's father lost his place in the world. Both of these events affected the characters' lives, helping to cement the twins' love of stories and giving them an eventual connection to the New York Sun that would allow them to publish the moon hoax, and giving Anna her tragic backstory and a goal that would drive her to construct her own moon out of brick rather than ink.

1829 — the year I believe Margaret Cavendish arrived in New York City. She lost her memories and her magic, and the Travelers set her up here to live in comfort and safety and loneliness. We don't know why this happened yet, but I think it's safe to assume the location isn't a coincidence when we know at least one Traveler with precognitive abilities and it's only a handful of years until...

1835 — the year of the moon hoax and the brick satellite. Samuel and Rose Stratford write a story that takes the city by storm, attracting the attention of both Margaret Cavendish, who has been looking for answers and winds up with more questions and magic she doesn't remember or understand, and Sir John Herschel, who doesn't want fantastical stories written about him, thank you very much—but wait, how did he get here? He was in South Africa, a whole other hemisphere! How did he find out about the hoax so quickly?

Well, someone brought him the newspaper that made him come to New York, meet the Stratfords and Margaret, and invite them all to work on the brick satellite with him. They go to British Guiana, manage to finish the satellite alongside Anna, get it into the sky thanks to Margaret's Radiance, and finally meet the Traveler out in space, who somehow knew they would be there and knew Margaret's magic was returning but is surprised that her memories weren't. The Traveler knows more than she's telling, but rather than explain she sends the quartet back to Earth.

1874 — the year the quartet are teleported to. They happen to meet a friendly bosun who offers them a place on a ship that'll take them to New York, right where they want to go. Perfect, right? But in reality it takes them to a ghost ship that just so happens to contain some stuff that helps Margaret remember some things. There's a crazy awesome magic battle, sailors vanish, the ghost ship vanishes, and by the end of it all they're sailing towards a mysterious island and the Traveler, Sia, is telling them they have a lot of work to do.

...okay, the point I'm attempting to make here is that yeah, it definitely seems like something has been leading them here, to this time and place. I just can't tell if it's ✨️destiny✨️ or if it's just Sia, who can see into the future and had a clear hand in at least some of these occurrences. She sent our heroes to 1874 in a flash of light, right into Morgan's path, into Kal's, into the Antikythera's. And if she did that, who's to say she hasn't been guiding the quartet in more covert ways this whole time? Someone had to get that paper to John. Someone—specifically a Traveler someone—had to get Margaret settled in New York.

You could say that it's all destiny and that Sia's foresight and her actions are simply destiny's way of getting shit done, that it was all going to happen this way no matter what. You could also go round and round questioning how destiny and precognitive abilities work & influence each other until your brain feels like it's melting (why yes, I am speaking from experience) but I think I'm going to skip that and focus on a different question instead:

What does destiny (or Sia) have in store for our heroes?

I don't know, of course. probably a rocket at some point? gotta wait for the episode to find out.

but regardless of who or what has been pulling the strings, it took a lot to get our heroes to this point and the idea that they're meant to be here, that they've always been headed toward something that's more than this the lives they had before is so unbelievably exciting??? even if you don't care for the idea of destiny or fate, you know great things are coming and that the story is gonna get bigger and wilder.

🏝 YEAH I KEEP MENTIONING THE ROCKET, DON'T I?

might as well actually give it its own little section on this ramble-y ass post, lol.

We've had hints that there'd be at least one rocket in the story from the very first M.A.I.A. transmission. (If you haven't seen those, you're missing out!) Now that we're getting new cast photos where everyone has been posing with a little red rocket, it looks like it's time!

Maybe the quartet are going to help the Travelers build a rocket. Maybe they're going to help repair a rocket that already exists. Maybe they're going to go to space again, or another planet—The Blazing World?—or maybe they're only going to see the Travelers off and that'll be it. (Okay, that last one would be a little disappointing, lmao.) Hell, maybe they're only going to Lincoln Island to meet a rocket that hasn't arrived yet! So many possibilities!

...hmm. I think that's it? I think that's all the thoughts I had. I have been putting this post together off and on since last night so if I missed anything or it seems a little disjointed then that's why, lmao.

this is admittedly less of a theory post at times and more of a John impression (it's not my fault I have questions!) but why wait for M.A.I.A. transmissions and more information when I can shout about it all now? the universe simply wouldn't be right if I didn't seize every opportunity to scream about Pulp Musicals.

anyway, if you read all of this then I hope you enjoyed it! you can expect/dread more posts like this in the coming weeks, as soon as we get more info and M.A.I.A. transmissions. can't wait to see my best girl again. 💙

...I really hope Matt and Jackie have gotten that window fixed.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life). 

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves! 

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance! 

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences! 

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.  

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

*

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[lostsyren]

I think rafe and sofia have alot of potential and the writers kind of screwed up with how they introduced her. we’ve obviously seen how soft he is with her and how he’s already comfortable by him asking for advice and how much of an influence she has on him already. like cmon she literally changed his mind on him having his father killed😭 i think that flew over alot of people’s heads tbh. and i think they will have a lot of scenes together and hopefully a lot of domestic and intimate moments together, i have hope for that considering she’s been upped to a series regular🤞🏼also we didn’t really see a lot of behind the scenes of fiona BUT i think that’s because they were hiding her?? or maybe people just didn’t recognize her to be taking pics of her. cuz i saw an interview of someone asking her of any projects she’s working on and she responded with “ i don’t know if i can say.” but she did confirm her character (sofia) was returning back to a tv show she was in last year. also his smile when he was looking at her?? i nearly died seeing soft rafe on my screen i already love them so much😣. i almost forgot people recorded drew, chase and austin having lunch and they were with two girls and people were saying it was fiona and the actor who is playing toppers love interest. so yeah i have a lot of hope we’ll be seeing her and rafe together🙏🏼🙏🏼

and with what i think should happen between them in season 4 is i’m hoping she’ll become rafes safe space and the person that’s always there for him. since ward was always pushing rafe to be tough and just being an asshole to him, maybe rafe could have someone he could turn to when things get hard or he just needs someone and sofia will be there <33

sorry this is so long i just loving talking about them😭 im seriously rooting for them🙈

Noooo don’t apologise for the long answer! I love hearing from you, and i feel the exact same way– it’s so fun discussing theories and overanalysing!!

I agree, they could’ve done so much more with her introduction, even just a small shot of rafe and her making eye contact in the country club before the party, just to give a bit of context to where she came from would’ve helped so much without eating the screen time. But ultimately i think they’re just quickly setting her up for the next season so they can flesh her character out then. (Hopefully!!)

Exactly!! Like yes she was just used as a plot device, like a manifestation of Rafe’s conscience almost, but that’s so interesting– and I don’t think she falls under the “I can fix him” trope, she doesn’t think there’s anything to fix. It’ll be a breath of fresh air having someone who doesn’t know Rafe’s past, giving him an incentive to be good.

You’re so smart!! Like that makes sm sense of why we’ve barely gotten any bts of the two. And both Fiona and Drew hardly ever post, so I’m not surprised somethings hasn’t slipped. And I doubt much of the fandom know/remember who fiona is :(

That’s so sweet!! I agree wholeheartedly– rafesofia soft scenes will be the death of me!! And the people saying him being with Sofia will take away from his villain arc– I think it will intensify his villainy even more if there’s a possibility he can be good and he just chooses not to. And especially how that will play with Sofia’s character. I think we as an audience will definitely feel the suspense, waiting for the moment rafe slips and becomes villainous towards her and that will just make his character that more enamouring and entertaining, whether you root for him or don’t!!

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Hey guys :))

Aww poor TK :((

Lol yeah he's got you Judd

You are not fine honey 😭

Demeanor is fancy lol but yes <3

Uaaaaghh 😭😭 not okay guysss

😭😭😭😭 BROOOO UAAAAA

This is what you get for talking about all the dangerous calls 😭😭😭💔

No come on please something :(((

There has to be pleeease 😭

I know one of them will most likely quit but maybe something else will work out :'(((

UAOH yeah if there's anyone who understands it's Judd 🥺

Yeah <33

:'O he's saying it :'DD

AAAAHHHHHHHHH THE TK JUDD TALK FINALLY 🥺🥺🥰🥰

Not super finally but still

Awwww TK's reaction 🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰

Yeah, I guess it is :')

I mean it makes sense yk and that's what I've seen

Goshhh I'm not okay 😭

Aww yeah 🥺 Owen <3

YEEAHHHHH YOU'RE BROTHERSSS 😭😭😭🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰 <33

The lovelies guys :')))

You don't even understand <333 (you do)

Judd talking about program talk to TK is just wild :') <3

Yeah, that's great <3 just the next right thing

I love them so much :')))

LOL

XD Judd

Awww dlfjdks

AAAHHHHH LOOK AT THEMMM 🥰🥰🥰

ONE MORE SILLY GOOFY PLAY AROUND 😭😭😭🥺🥺❤️🥰🥰🥰

UAAAHHHHHH

TK Nancy join in 🥺🥺

OWENNN stay here 😭😭 for them 🥺❤️

Ouaofgh I'm not ready :((

WHAT HAPPENED TO TELLING TKKKK

Y'all :'((

TK is so done 😭 prepared to have the worst day ever xdd

Well now it is

Y'all had no idea how final it feels we do because of the episode and we know the asteroid's coming but yk

Anyway

Pretending I don't know anything

Huh?

Excuseee me?

WHAT

EXCUUUUSE ME???!!?!

Y'ALL

BRUH

EXCUSE ME O.O 😭

What the heck

Ohhh nooo

Crappp

Oh GOSH O.O

Y'all that is not good xd

The graphic 💀💀 xD

Y'allll what is this what are we supposed to do 😭

Okay great so two extremes with no idea which and no course of action xd

Is it y'all with the bad karma lol

Y'all 😭 not okay xdd

Once again, imagine if they seriously actually flatten Austin 💀💀

Ope hello sir!

Oh he's just chillin xD

Was that doctor who lol

Ahhh a bunker lol

Ope they want in now xD

And in the past were critical?

Yeeppp they were critical xD

Not that I'm saying it's not a crazy thing to do but I mean gotta be nice if you want in the bunker ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

But seriously dude like just let them

They apologized :((

Awww their daughter 😭😭😭🥺

Yeah, exactly, she didn't do anything :((

YESSS thank goodness :'D

Ik it'll probably either be fine or won't matter but I'm just happy for them <33

OPE OH NO C R A P

OHHH NOOOO

Gosh guys 😭😭😭

Well I mean I get it yk

If you managed to get far enough away hopefully it wouldn't matter where exactly lol

But again like shockwaves and stuff xD

Dang okay chill Marj 💀 lol xD

Oope yeah o.o

Here it isss

Ahh crap 😬😬

Thought they might be able to kinda easily break in but now I realize xdd

Nope 😭

Okayy okay come onnn. . .

Oope?

Gonna go in from the glass or another part?

:O or dig into it!!

Ohh onto the side okay

The timer ticking down 😭😬

AYO WHAT

What are we doing right now y'all o.o

This is CRAZY

Y'all O.O go off I guess xD

All this for this guy xD not saying he's not worth it but like it's been a hot second 💀 also there's a meteor coming besties xdd

Why didn't they know about this meteor sooner unrelated

Ohh gosh

Careful y'allll 😭

What if you blow him up xD

Or those poor Doctor Who's 😔😔

OPE

THEY DID IT O.O!!!

YOO NICE ONE GUYS :D

Ope dang Mateo O.O

Wondering if his deportation thing is gonna come out but I doubt it, unless he tells at the end, but more likely next episode I feel like

😬😬

NOICE pay he got in :o :'D

Phew okay okay

Uh ohhh 😬😬

PHEW WHOOHOO!!

Yayy 🥰🥰

Ahh okay so makes sense

Ohh ahh yeah 😬 about that xD. . .

:'O

Awww :'))

He's gonna say yes isn't he :'D?

YEEAHHHH 🥰🥰🥰🥺❤️

Aww, that's great :'))

Go home guys <33

Fair 😬 xd 💀

Yeah, but at least now he's not alone :')) ❤️

[landinrris]

Lando not spending New Year's Eve with his family makes sense to me. I have noticed a lot of growth in him over the past few years, and 2023 in particular as obvious superior in the team. Especially now he's not under Carlos' thumb anymore he has been able to grow and be himself finally. Which is why I think he is spending more time with Martin and generally more time exploring his interests (not sports that have been thrust upon him by older teammates and his ceo). Finally this is the real Lando.

I can see your rationale, but I don't personally agree with some of it, and that's fine. I definitely think these last few years have been years of growth for Lando. This year especially, as he's the older and more experienced teammate of the two. I'm very excited to see how he and Oscar push each other next year with a car that hopefully starts out where they finished and maybe even a little farther ahead. Lando's more comfortable with himself and where he fits in with his friends, I think that's obvious. As such, we've gotten a lot more public content of him hanging out with newer friends like Martin and indulging himself in other fixations like photography and DJing last year.

However, I don't really agree with the latter half of your message. I personally am not of the mind that he's ever been "under Carlos' thumb." It's very obvious that they were friends as teammates and have remained as such post-2020. Carlos said himself it's easier to be friends now since they're not on the same team. We also know from Lando that the reason he backed off of golf so much was because of his back issues. If I remember correctly, it was a habit he picked up in 2020 because of covid to get out of the house and still be around people. No one is forcing him to play. He does still play though, as evidenced by Austin, and Brazil most recently (not really counting the Netflix Cup here, but you get the point).

I don't think we've ever been treated to a "fake Lando." His current form is just one that's maybe more comfortable with who he is, as you typically get with age.

[burned-lariat]

Boy this years Nurse's Ball better be good. Despite GH knowing how to do it up big, that doesn't mean all these coinciding stories that will take place before/during/after the Ball will present any kind of "entertainment". Sure there will be surprises but... The bar is set real low, C&D I'm looking at you bastids.

Mostly looking forward to Tracy making an appearance and Epiphany's tribute. I miss Monica/Leslie.

Dead weight: Cody, Esme, Eileen, The Bensons; Millow, Jex, Crew. None of the characters can't even fill in on a filler episode. F is for FAIL! Convince me Fiz is dead and never to return.

Now with that said I saw a clip of Jordan and Finn. Got my Jovan vibes tingling. If Finn stops being a weirdo long enough, I could go for it. And I want to see Chase flip out at Finn dating his boss. Lol ya know actual entertainment.

I need moreQuartermaine family drama (again minus Millow), Selina Wu and Bradley Cooper (more Wus in general) Turi, TJ, Sante and Sprina, Taggert and my ChayLynn (...buffering atm)

Ship name for Austin and Ava?

Ava and Trina are headed for a rough patch. I can't handle the utter thought 🥺😭

The only way I will tolerate little man Michael Corinthis (Quartermaine who?) is if he turns to the dark side. No Jaaon wannabe, but a good guy turned bad because of his fake vendetta against Sonny blowing up in his face and take his little sidekick Joss too. Replace Dex as the Jason prototype we didn't ask for and get this party started. Carly can go sit in a corner and bake imaginary brownies that nobody asked for cause she's been taking lessons from Bobby in secret that we care not to know about. Hansel and Gretel anyone? These kids Wiley and Amelia, better make like Michael and Janet and Scream! lol.

I'd love to see a good story being told without to much of the repeated copy and paste tactics from C&D. The advantage of a serial soap opera is you get more room to explore different types of stories without the limitations of a regular tv series. The last 7 years have not been spectacular for GH. There's not been a "good run" or an era to mark quality soap writing.

Most of the characters are too two-dimensional and inconsistent with the inconvenience of bad writing/retcons.

Which beleved character(s) would you like to make a brief return to shake things up for 2023?

Make it make sense.

1-800-FFS-GH23 🤣 put in a prayer

Considering that cast photo, my expectations are very low for the NB.

Same! And hopefully we see Monica soon!

Agreed. And unfortunately for us, it doesn't seem like the writers will be giving up on Fiz anytime soon 😓

Honestly, keep Dex as the "New Jason." I don't need more Michael, I need less. I need less Benson everything (Bobbie can stay tho).

Absolutely! Or if you reuse a soap trope, put a new spin on it! Mix characters that haven't mixed and let them take the charge.

I'd love to see Brenda & her son as well as the Scorpio-Drakes come back!

[eatablecatlover369]

okay todays my first day quitting weed and any other substances and it’s kinda hard. i’ve been researching about it and learning about other people’s experiences and it does feel nice knowing other people go through similar things. one of my close friends goes through substance issues as well and we talk about it a lot and how we feel and just everything. she’s an essential to my life it feels she’s the only one i know who understands this feeling i feel. she doesn’t have any devices cause her parents took them and i haven’t talked to her in a while and i miss her. i want to text her but i don’t want to spam and shit. maybe i’ll tell her if she ever has the chance to talk to me. but yea like the feeling of feeling better on substances than being sober is the worst. i don’t know why i’m like this maybe it’s how i was just born to be like or idk what it is but this is who i am. i’m very avoidant i’m pretty sure i have an avoidant attachment style so like i’ll want affection love and stuff like that but once i receive it i push it away and feel weirded out, uncomfortable, and disgusted. i just can’t physically sometimes even mentally think about it. but you know what, whatever goes through my mind and how it works and everything it just feels better when i’m on something it’s like a coat of warmth or relief, or freedom or a sense of contentment. my mind feels normal, i feel normal, i feel like i function normally, the way everyone else seems to function normally. i feel alienated and i don’t even feel human at times but once i’m on something that feeling of loneliness is gone. in the moment i’m on something , nothing matters, nothing in the past, present, future, absolutely nothing. just the sense of contentment, freedom, and relief. i feel like nothing matters but the moment. weed has honestly taught me many things , it makes me think deeper about things and i kinda don’t have anxiety. it feels nice. i don’t care about anything when i normally do. that feeling of caring too much takes over me because of how big that feeling is. i feel suffocated, stuck, alienated. i just want to run away somewhere far. be a new person with a new identity. meet new people experience new things. to me traveling seems to be the only free therapy i can receive. i have tried therapy before and it has helped in some aspects but overall i don’t really think it changed me and some of my habits. but i did like my therapist she was so nice her name is austin and she was the only adult that i felt comfortable, calm, and safe with. like she didn’t have any goal in life but to help understand me to help me be better. but yea anyway i just needed to rant and get this off my chest cause i cannot take it. hopefully i get better and this little feeling goes away. i’ll update occasionally. deuces

[waywardmoosey]

La Llorona

Samantha opened her laptop to continue her research. She'd become rather intrigued by the story of La Llorona. The story of the wailing woman was said to be an urban legend up and down the border towns of Texas. A story that grandmothers told their grandchildren to get them to go to sleep at night. An eerie account of a woman who'd found out that her husband had cheated on her with a wealthy woman from the village of Matamoros, Mexico. Heartbroken and bitter the woman did the one thing that would hurt her cheating husband more than anything. She lured their children to the riverbank of the Guadalupe and drowned her two small boys. Once she came to her senses, she realized what she had done and began to wail uncontrollably. Drowning shortly after what she'd done. The town of Matamoros claimed that they could hear a woman crying out, “Mis hijos! Mis hijos! ¿Dónde están mis hijos?” English translation is “My sons! My sons! Where are my sons?” Considering that the Guadalupe River runs through the great state of Texas. Reports of La Llorona have been popping up from Austin all the way down to Brownsville. Brownsville is the neighboring city across the river from Matamoros. Which would make perfect sense as to why she is seen there the most.

Hearing Dean pull up to the motel that they were staying at in Mystic Falls. Samantha rolled her eyes when hearing the giggles of Caroline Forbes. Dean and Caroline had been in an off and on relationship since high school. Her brother had it bad for the neurotic blonde. The fact that she was now a vampire made their relationship even more interesting. He accepted Caroline as she was, and Samantha did not interfere. All she ever wanted was for her brother to happy and he truly was. Truth be told having a vampire as a friend was pretty cool. There were times that Caroline accompanied them on their adventures. Twenty minutes passed before Dean walked through the motel door.

"Dean!" Samantha shouts excitedly. "Just hear me out before you say no. I swear that I'm not delulu. I really think that this is a good case to take on. I know that you have been skeptical in the past and ignore my pleas. It is happening again. Sighting of La Llorona have been made in Seguin, Texas. Sheriff Gray just put out a statement that two middle schoolers were last seen at Starke Park. They were playing volleyball with others. Onlookers said that they saw the two boys walk off towards the riverbank to skip rocks. That was the last time that they were seen. Nothing other than a cell phone was found. One of the boys was recording when a wailing sound was heard. The cell phone was laying on its side and recorded an apparition before the boys vanished. Dad wrote about this in his journal, but never got the chance to investigate it. Please, Dean. If she is hurting children/teens, we need to reunite her with her children. That may be the only way to get her to stop. For once can we please do an investigation that I believe in?"

Samantha let out a sigh after pleading her case to her brother. Hopefully he had listened to everything that she had just said.

@them0nsterhunter

[xnamgi]

ANON SMS: 44/? 

Min Yoongi is one of the most popular students in high school. Having the image of enjoying the high life, when he’s actually struggling with his own personal issues of body image and depression. So one night, he decides to message a random phone number and not knowing that this person will later become his personal diary. (ft. vkook and namjin)

[carbonfiction]

Jealousy Problem

MDNI 18+

A/n: ah its been a while! I promise i didn't fall of the face of the earth ive just had a busy busy time! This is a new one for me, so hopefully its not too bad, but ever since my mom took me with her to the theater to see Elvis on opening day, ive been utterly obsessed with both Austin and Elvis! So i thought id try add to the lack of both austin and elvis fics!

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader

Summary: The photo was completely innocent, youd stumbled over a step by the door and the poor guy you'd tumbled into was just making sure you were okay. But Elvis, you think, has a bit of a jealousy problem

Warnings?: smut, mentions of oral (f), slightly sub!Elvis, some swearing, handjob? Kinda, mentions of bodily fluids (cum, arousal, sweat) i think thats it!

Words: 1669

------------------------------------------------------

The first thing you hear coming in the front door is "Really?"

"Fuckin' really?", he repeats, his accent dripping with the unmistakable southern twang. he's flushed pink high on his cheeks, shoulders squared, and he's furious.

Your laidback, lackadaisical Presley is fuming, he never shouts in your presence, knowing it makes you uncomfortable, but boy does he sulk. making life miserable for himself until he works himself all the way up till he has to shut himself away. Playing his guitar, reading or listening to whatever records he can find into the latest hours of the night, and although you didn't usually care to provoke him- what else had you got to do tonight?

His schedule is clear for a rare few days and you've been in a teasing mood ever since he saw some photos in the paper.

Photos of you, his girl, only his, wrapped up in the prettiest summer dress, with one of his friends arms around your shoulders. taken as you left the venue with everyone after one of Elvis's shows.

The photo was completely innocent, youd stumbled over a step by the door and the poor guy you'd tumbled into was just making sure you were okay. But Elvis, you think, has a bit of a jealousy problem.

"What?, whats the matter?" You purr, feigning ignorance, slipping your jacket off as you walk past Elvis and through the front door of graceland. Sauntering round him, you kick your shoes off next to the couch just how he hates and crane your neck to face him.

Elvis gestures at you, hands out, palms up, the universal sign for "what the fuck?", and you quirk an eyebrow at him. He makes a noise in his throat like an angry cat and crosses the room in a few steps, and crowds against you, until your senses are filled with the intoxicating scent of him.

Before you can even think to do anything he grabs your wrist, pulling your body against him, walking you upstairs until your back is against the bedroom door.

He dips down to place his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the perfume you knew he loved, soft strands of your hair falling around his own against your warm skin.

His other hand is still around your right wrist. Tightly but not enough to harm you. just holding your body still as you tremble with excitement.

His lips plant sloppy kisses until his teeth nip hard enough on your neck to feel the tendons and muscles twitch and the feel the steady thrum of your heartbeat in your throat.

That will bruise, you think idly, Elvis is marking his territory, he's jealous. He's also rock hard against your thigh, dark dress pants hanging low on his hips, shoving the straps of your dress off your shoulders and further down your chest so he can palm your breasts unrestricted.

You can't help but let out a quiet whine as he runs his delicate fingertips over your nipple until it hardens, until he has your full attention. And he's jealous.

"You're mine darlin, that's what, " he drawls, almost on cue, and nips at you again, rolling your earlobe gently between his teeth. Elvis's grip on your wrists tighten fractionally as he ruts his hips and stomach against yours , "I don't wanna share you, want you all to myself."

You laugh then sigh, more sunshine drunk than liquor drunk after your day. You free your hand from his grip and curl your arms up around his neck, grasping a handful of his soft hair in your fingers. pulling his head back so his mouth isn't biting you anymore and his face is no longer buried in your hair.

his throat is exposed, mouth half open, and his eyes are clouded with want, watching you from under his dark lashes.

when you do press yourself up to meet him, feeling his cock twitch under his pants and his soft abdominal muscles clench.

when he snaps out of his daze Elvis's hands pull you away from the door and the two of you go tumbling towards the bed.

"Gotta teach you a lesson, Need ya so bad darlin" Elvis mutters softly against your mouth, like you tripped and posed for a photo with a friend holding you upright to make his heart explode with jealousy on purpose. For you both to end up lazily making love on the couch for hours as you intermittently listen to the radio or to make you both frantically fuck in one of Elvis's prized cars on a secluded side street after dinner is the reason you did it.

You laugh again and kiss him, properly, tasting his jealousy. Before undressing each other in between the heated kissing, sighing happily again when he curls his long fingers around each of your wrists, holding you firmly down to the mattress as his warm torso covers yours.

Elvis starts to get more desperate once he's inside of you, until he can't hold your wrists down because he wants nothing more than the feeling of your hands on his body, sliding through his dark hair and scratching his back and shoulders.

Although before he can truly do anything more you've flipped him, sliding yourself back down around him, riding him, fucking yourself down onto him for half an hour or more until you see the tiny beads of sweat on his hairline. watching him savage his pouty bottom lip and feel his hands start to tremble when he runs his thumbs over your nipples again down to your hips.

You wait until he's starting to beg for it with just his breathing, his cheekbones still flushed pink but now for a different reason, before slowing it right down until Elvis's fingers edge down to stroke at your clit, where he selfishly hopes that if you move with your own pleasure you will move enough to make him finish too.

Except your a step ahead, and you edge it for him, keeping his pleasure balanced, loving how his once icy blue pupils are engulfed in darkened lust and the whines and moans that bubble out of his mouth to stay bitten and red.

He's amenable when he's like this. Elvis will do anything, for you, to you, with you, he just wants more. And today, he's jealous.

"Darlin please , come on," Elvis manages to whine out again as you edge it out for him again. Simply because you can feel his shoulder muscles tense and everytime you grind your body down on him to the hilt, he bites his bottom lip hard almost hard enough to draw blood- except he doesn't.

"jus' let me- let me cum, fuck, you should cum 'round me, darlin please, please," Elvis complains as though so far any amount of begging has given him anything.

"You said I was yours," you say breathless, thighs gripping around his hips, pausing your movements as he lifts his hand to stroke your hair back from your face.

Elvis's hands dip, slowly petting at your throat with his thumbs, applying just enough pressure above your collarbones to make her breathing just that bit harder.

He moans quietly into your mouth as he reaches down between your conjoined body's and realizes his thighs are wet from the heat of you, slick and warm.

He just wants to fucking taste you, throw your thighs over his shoulders and bury his tongue inside you until you melt. "Oh baby You are mine," he agrees, "but that doesn't mean I shouldn't make a mess of you."

"You wanna make a mess of me Mr Presley?" You tease as you feel his cock throb as you begin to slide off him. Retreating to the top of the bed where you lay back against the plushness of the pillows, and it's only a split second later until he's got your thighs open and his mouth on you, drinking you in, licking,tasting and sucking until you have your hand clutched in his tousled hair. until his scalp aches and your grinding down onto his mouth.

When you cum, he holds your hips still with his hands, fingers half-slick, waiting for the aftershocks to subside before he leans up and kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his silver tongue.

Carefully you wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke, once, twice, before watching him fall apart groaning and letting out almost inaudible curses.

you feel him shudder and his hips beg for you to let him cum, finally, fucking finally. he'd been on edge for an hour and was already half hard before you even got in the front door.

When you dont make a move to fuck him again he looks down at you, half underneath him on a stack of pillows, thighs slick, hair ruined, soft purple bite marks all over your breasts, and he realizes what you mean- you want him to make a mess of you, oh-god, and with that warm hand on his cock all he can do is growl so loud he's sure the world will hear him beg.

He braces himself on the bedhead behind you with one hand and scratches his blunt nails across the back of your neck with the other as he watches as his cock paints you, ribbons of white warmth landing across your breasts and down your stomach. smearing down from your wrist as he slides down onto you, stickiness, sweat, slick and fuck-knows-what-else between you as he breathes in through your hair.

"Fuck baby" You shift, stretching out your legs, and he feels you laugh underneath him rather than hearing it, "You have a jealousy problem."

"It's not really a problem if it ends like this every time now, is it?" Elvis jokes as he removes himself off you, sated, feeling boneless and lazy as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you off the bed in the direction of the shower.

[0celesteisthebest0]

Take a Chance On Me

Word count: 2,472

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem! Reader(no y/n)

Previous chapter     Next chapter

Warnings: stress about future events, reminiscing on the past, fluff. 

Author’s notes: SOOO hi again, yes I’m back again. Sorry for the inconsistency peeps, I’ve just been overthinking about the series and I realized that I wasn’t having fun writing because of posting. Those notes tend to haunt you on bad days and I had a lot of those so I took the executive decision to stop until I got my shit together. I’m spacing out my updates too to limit that feeling sooooo I hope that explanation makes sense for my two month break in uploading. Other than that I hope you enjoy this chapter, I cried while writing it... IT’S NOT SAD NECESARILY I’m just emotional!!

Chapter 29: Picture Perfect 

It’s been a weird couple of days, you couldn’t quite describe what you were feeling but you knew the sensation of it was too familiar. The pulling in your chest causes the ceaseless anxiety of the situation that you’re in to take a physical effect instead of a purely mental one. 

It was Thursday once again and maybe it seemed to your body that it was physically preparing itself to take on more stress. You told both Isaac and Liz to take a break today because the pair have not stopped working since Saturday. You need to take your own advice and let yourself relax. 

The plans were already set in place, Isaac was going with you to Chicago, you’d drive with the van, make contact with Felix, and if that didn’t pan out… you sighed to yourself. You guys have a backup plan for a reason, you’d make contact with Vanessa to see if she still knew dirt about some people around. Hopefully she had dirt on Austin, hope was all that you got at this point and you couldn’t help but worry. 

Your body wanted to be in constant movement but your mind wanted to sleep so that’s what you were trying to do. Forgo any responsibilities for some good quality rest. But again that feeling in your chest didn’t leave and it’s become increasingly difficult to stay still. That’s it, you had to get up to move even if it was just to pace because laying made the thrumming worse. Laying makes you feel stagnant.

It felt too foreign to stop for a moment and rest. It felt that the thrumming was your body's way to tune yourself and try to relax. You paced out of your room and straight to the living room in hopes that the change of atmosphere will calm the stress. What were the others doing on their day off again? Isaac said something about going out and visiting some new restaurant he’s been wanting to try. Liz said she was gonna stay in and read with Tara by her side keeping her company.

You were just planning to sleep in but that thrumming was picking at you and you were afraid you’d unravel. Take a break damn it, take a break. Why couldn’t you just do that! It was a simple task to just unwind, right? What did you do to unwind…

Did you forget how to…you stopped pacing at this realization and took a moment to reflect. How long have you pushed yourself? How many years has it been since you’ve told yourself that you could relax? You’ve convinced yourself that this thrumming was normal. 

The statue that you built over the years has crumbled and now you are picking up the pieces to knit them back together. You now only realize that it’s been broken for centuries now. It didn’t crumble until it was shoved into. You didn’t realize the damage that caused you to harden and crumble took away the vices you used to relax.

You closed your eyes and went off to your room with a mission in mind. You knew it was somewhere in here. You went off to your closet and sat on the floor looking for the item to wield the pieces back. Old boxes with trinkets you didn’t have the heart to throw away. 

Boxes that contained things that would be nonsensical to anyone who ventured foot in your closet but you kept anyway. Ticket stubs, scribbled notes with barely legible handwriting but words that meant the world, letters from the past, old yet meaningful tattered books, nostalgia filled comics with bent pages, and the item that you looked for.

It was cracked but you could still use it, cracked at the lens. You tilted the dusty camera around to see if there was any more damage and the crack was the only thing that was of notice. You hummed to yourself to see if the battery still worked and luckily enough it turned on.

You made a squeal of excitement and the battery was at low percent but you could manage to see if the lens was that bad. You sighed to yourself but still inspected the remains of a forgotten time of your life and decided to look at the photos in the memory card. What happened when you pressed the past photos was a flood of memories that you somehow forgot. You looked intensely at the pictures of old friends huddled together for a somewhat blurry picture. You choked back a wet chuckle as you looked at more and more pictures from events you can’t believe you’ve forgotten. Images zipping through your mind sending you back to the past. 

Every event you recalled with pride as you picked apart when and why it took place. Most of them were taken in the apartments of your friends or for special occasions. You laughed a little because they insisted on you taking the pictures even though you repeatedly told them they’d come out wonky.

“Oh but moonpie, it’s a perfect picture to look back on. Just take the picture,” the whisper of a ghost spoke in your ear as you recalled the day clear as that cold November night. 

“Stop calling me that you-you big ol’ dork,” you muttered back at the group trying to convince you to take the picture. You ultimately conceded and you are forever grateful that you did. 

“Moonpie,” you giggled to yourself, setting down the camera that was going to be a little project to expel excess energy.

The tears that stung at the corners of your eyes dampened on your sleeve. It was nice to remember the times that you could but it still grabbed onto your throat as a reminder of what was gone. You decided to indulge yourself with the memories from your box and so you held the bits of ticket stubs in your fingertips to remind yourself that you were tangible. You hummed to yourself as you looked back at old writings and feelings that were easing the dread from your chest. The thrumming turned into buzzing that pooled to your arms flowing into your fingertips; where the unease seeped out of your system as you perused down memory lane going through things you used to do. You shouldn’t have stopped these things…maybe you could pick them up again, act like no time has passed.

Exhaustion gripped your body and you decided to pad off to your bed to finally sleep in and you reached for your phone to see if you could find a new lens for that specific camera. The relay of different messages greeted you as you unlocked your phone. You giggled at the images of Moss that Liz sent you telling you that she was doing fine. You hummed happily at the news and told her that you were glad she was resting.

Then there was Isaac who sent you excited messages about the day of break he had.

Isaac: do you think I could make a decision on take out next time we’re at your place

Isaac: don’t answer that I know what you’ll say and it’s obviously yes

Isaac: oh shit I forget you fell asleep uh anyway the sauce!?!? so good!?!?! please can we eat here as a group I want to try so much more things 

You giggled again at the text messages that illuminated your face in the darkness of your room and just as you were about to respond a familiar face enveloped your screen. A blurry picture that he took of himself, you loved his goofy grin. To say you didn't answer it in a heartbeat was a ridiculous statement. 

“Well howdy, how’s my favorite cowboy,” you grinned and the soft chuckle that you grew familiar with rang in your ears. You knew he’s been busy these past days since he’s left so he hasn’t had time to call over the phone. It was a lot of texting back and forth between the two and you grinned to be able to hear him again.

“My sweet, sweet girl, I’m doin’ a thousand times better now that I can hear you. How are you my love,” his tired voice seeped out of the screen causing you to wonder about the amount of work they piled on him. 

“I’m doing better that's…” you stared at the camera that you left on the floor of your room. “That’s for sure, I’ve been a bit on high alert but I think I got things to keep me busy.” 

“If it’s more things related to the mission I don’t think that’s somethin’ that’ll help you get out of your head,” his tired voice muttered out.

“Not mission-related, I promise. I have a little project that I wanna fix up,” you confessed to him somewhat at ease being able to express a thing that lets you not think about anything too important. He made a noise of intrigue.

“What’s this little project, my dear?”

“I wanted to fix up my old camera,” you moved the phone closer to you hoping you could hear him better.

“Camera? Didn’t know you were a photographer, is the camera up to par?” He was curious about the situation and you were happy to answer all his questions.

“I wasn’t a photographer, but I can sure take better pictures than you,” you heard a noise from Jack and immediately giggled.

“I have a perfectly steady hand,” he argued, causing your cheeks to hurt from how hard you were grinning.

“You do have steady hands…which are very nice to look at but you can’t focus the image with them,” you confessed absently. “It’s okay though, you can steady it and I’ll help keep focus.”

“That’s why we make a good team darlin’,” he yawned sleepily and you grinned at the yawn after darling. 

“Baby do you want to go to sleep? I know you’ve been swamped in New York so it’s alright to get some rest. We can talk later?” You knew you had a busy weekend ahead of both of you so taking up those extra hours of rest would be crucial.

“Mmm in a minute my dear, wanted to tell you somethin’ important that couldn’t wait till mornin’,” his tiredness was pushed down and replaced by excitement. 

“Oh? What is it?” You couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he wanted to tell you at the moment.

“I booked a reservation tomorrow ‘round seven, for one of my favorite restaurants,” he said with what you assumed was a grin and you hummed at the fact he was treating himself for a day to enjoy himself at a restaurant in New York.

“That’s great my love! You can have a nice and easy day eating what you want when you’re still over there,” finding moments, where it wasn’t just work, were moments to enjoy and you were glad he’d be able to do that.

“No darlin’ you misunderstand me. Lemme rephrase that. I booked a reservation tomorrow ‘round seven for us,'' you blinked repeatedly to make sure you weren’t reading into things. 

“Me and you?” You just needed a verbal confirmation that this was indeed reality and not something that your brain was misconstruing.

A soft chuckle traveled in your ear and immediately the excitement at Jack coming back bubbled to the surface. 

“Yes me and you…just me and you.” 

You couldn’t believe it. You genuinely believed that he was going to stay in New York for the total of this month, not a handful of days.

“How-how are you able to come back so soon,” you knew when Champ issued a punishment he meant it. So the ability to just come back so soon amazed you.

“Pulled some strings, wanted to see my girl,” you grinned wider than you ever did before. He promised you a date when he got back and you were so glad he kept that promise. 

“Are you flying out tomorrow?” 

“Mhm, gonna see you soon my dear, gonna take you ‘round the town,” he hummed trying to paint the picture of what tomorrow’s going to look like. 

“I can’t believe it! I’m just so excited “ you didn’t know what to say, you haven’t been on a date in years and the idea of going to one of his favorite places to unwind sounded dreamlike. “I love you.”

“I love you too darlin’,” you hummed at those lovely words. 

“I’ll pick you up ‘round 6:30? Give you enough time to get dolled up, then the rest of the night we have a moment to ourselves,” you bit your bottom lip in thought at the moment alone comment. Hoping you could just have more than an afternoon with him but you’d have to leave for the mission the next day. 

“Darlin’,” you realized you were silent for a bit too long.

“All that sounds good Casanova,” you huffed because you wanted to say more. You needed to let yourself say more. “I was thinking, that maybe you could stay the night tomorrow, “ you let it slip out taking the anxiety with it. 

“Dinner and gettin’ to sleep next to you is all I need to survive my dear so I’d very much like to stay the night.” He yawned out and you couldn’t help but giggle at the fact he was still trying his best to stay up and charm you at the same time. 

“My love, go to sleep. I’m going to see you tomorrow, remember?” You stated the last part for yourself because you were still in awe of the fact you’ll be able to see him. His voice rumbled out a reply that you couldn’t quite hear. “What?”

“You’re amazin’, you know that love? Such a captivatin’ soul.'' Oh yeah, he was officially out of it. You haven’t seen him this tired since you accidentally woke him up on the jet years back. It was a small mission and you remember waking him and those dark crinkled eyes shined up at you and in his words, he thought you were the “brightest thing in the sky.”

It was something that you routinely brushed off back then but remembering those small moments made you smile now. What a dork.

“Loverboy, get some shut-eye. I’ll see you tomorrow,” his sleepy voice hummed at going to bed.

“I love you doll.”

“I love you too my sweet boy,” you ended the call to let Jack rest and you sighed happily at being able to see him soon. You knew that your dreams for the night were going to consist of scenarios where days and feelings like this was the norm. Oh, how you wished those dreams would come true for you.

Taglist: @shadowolf993 @salome-c @marydjarin @captainstormborn​ @athalien

[kickingitwithkirk]

Deuxième Omega: Part II

Summary: Jensen is not dealing well with his unexpected divorce and before the ink is even dry, he is pushed into another union with a complete stranger.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 2859

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, angry Jensen, cursing, illness, arranged marriage, divorces, talk of Alpha dominance over Omega, suspected eating disorder, past abuses, vehicle drama

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get this part out, my antique laptop decided to eat over 2,000 words and have had to piece back together from memory so hopefully it makes sense.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles family. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. 

Part I

*Supernatural doesn’t end in season 15 and some dates/events have been altered to fit the story.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

The Next Day

Jensen waves his hand around again at that buzzing insect driving him crazy. He’s finally conscious enough to recognize the sound, it wasn’t a bug but his phone vibrating incessantly. Picking his head up and instantly regretting it starts patting around the bed for his phone.

“lo...”

“Are you still drunk?” A deep, honey-whiskey and way too damn loud for the morning voice barked at him.

“Jared?”

“No, fucking Misha.”

“Too early for your shit Jay...”

“Dude, it’s three-thirty in the afternoon.”

“WHAT!” Jensen yells sitting up too fast, the pain ricocheting throughout his head sends him flying off the bed, barely making it to the toilet before regurgitating everything he ingested last night. The toilet automatically flushes as he sits back against the bathtub groaning like a dying water buffalo.

“Really wish you'd hung up before sharing that,” Jared quips in a queasy voice, “I’m gonna regret this but Face Time me.”

Jensen cracked his eyes open enough to locate the button and tapping it Jared appears dressed in his running gear with a bandana holding his hair back. “No offense but you look like hammered shit. I was gonna call earlier but Gen threatened to have my left nut if I did.”

Jensen grunts and closes his eyes against the bright outdoor light emanating from the phone.

“Are you…” Jensen tunes him out for a minute then,“ ‘cause there’s something you need to know about, it’s really bad.”

He opens his eyes and it’s worse than he could have imagined going by the expression on Jared’s face.

“One of your clan sold you out, got it all on cellphone video, social media’s blowing up. Hell, even Fox News Channel picked it up.”

Jensen listens to the description of his expressions at the surprise traditional ceremony, his drunken stumbling around the reception with his new wife submissively following, his scoffing at the speeches during the reception and ignoring his silent, veil wife sitting next to him.

“My favorite bit was Alan and Josh carrying you out of the can.”

Jared's expression turned serious, “People are talking, we can't cover for you anymore. I got a text from higher ups cause no one could get hold of you for obvious reasons. PR’s gotta get ahead of this.”

“I’m a fuckup.”

“Yeah but we still love you. So, what's her name?”

Jensen licked his lips, biting the bottom one.

“Please tell me you know her name.”

“I..I don't even know what she looks like Jay.”

Jared ran his hand over his mouth, “The first thing you do is get up, take a shower and brush your goddamn teeth. Then you apologize, fucking supplicate yourself, to your new wife..unless you’ve already decided to put her aside.”

Jensen's head snapped up unbelieving that his friend, the man who was his brother in every way except blood, could think that of him.

“You really believe I could do that?”

Jared smiled, “No, you're too good of a man, an Alpha, to do that. I want you to remember one thing, in all this, she’s not the one who screwed you over.”

***

Jensen stepped out the shower forgoing shaving since the show was on a short break. He wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at this haggard expression and developing beer gut. I’ve got to get back on my exercise routine. Makeup and wardrobe could only mask so much.

Reaching for his bath kit he knocked a hand towel off the counter. Bending over to retrieve it he noticed a shoe with netting in the wastebasket. Pulling it out he saw a brown smear inside one of the heels, remembering how much trouble she had with them last night and made a mental note to inquire about her feet.

Washing his hands and searching through his kit realizing he’d forgotten his toothbrush. Opening on the cabinets he located the complementary ones. As he’s brushing Jensen sees another brush sitting in a glass by the other sink with a neatly folded hand towel and hanging washcloth.

Huh, she must have forgotten hers too.

Tossing his kit bag in the suitcase he dressed in a pair of well worn jeans and a T-shirt. Quietly entering the common area the curtains set open just enough for him to see her curled up on the couch, still in her wedding dress, asleep. He walked over to check on her when a knock at the door made her bolt upright.

“It's room service, I asked them to text so not to wake you.” He answered the door and had a brief word with the waiter who apologized, the ticket didn’t say not to knock. They deposited a coffee decanter, several covered dishes, bottles of water and left taking the cart with them.

Jensen sat down and before he could ask how she took her coffee, his wife scrambled off the couch and was kneeling at his feet, head bowed and hands folded in her lap.

“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously, having never seen anyone do this before.

“Awaiting you instructions Alpha.”

“Instruc...get up!” He gripped her upper arm, shocked at how far his fingers wrapped around it and helped her to the other chair. Sitting back down Jensen got his first look at his new wife.

Sleep tousled, dark blonde hair frame cheekbones overly prominent for the shape of her face, wide set eyes a blue-grey color with amber rings around the pupils. Her lips were full, the bottom lip slightly off center. She was not the Hollywood standard of beauty he was used to, and if compared to them, she’d only be considered moderately pretty.

“I was only doing what is expected…”

“Kneeling at my feet like an obedient dog!” He barked as she said, “..of the Omega.”

“What’s expected?”

“In the book..”

“Please look at me when speaking.” She raises her eyes but doesn’t meet his, “..it states that the Omega is subservient and the act of humbling ourselves shows respect for the Alpha, as is their due.’

Jensen sat back shocked, running both of his hands through his still damp hair, making it stand up to resemble a hedgehog. He was in over his head and, for one of the few times in his life, didn’t know what to do and the first person he would have turned to for advice had banned all communication.

He took a deep breath to refocus and leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs to look her in the eye, “I need you to forget what I said last night. I..I’m angry, feels like I..we..were ambushed by this situation. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sincerely sorry.”

“I don’t understand, are you apologizing to me?”

“It’s what people do when they’ve done something wrong and what I did was unforgivable. I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me and hopefully we can make a go of this.”

She looked at him dubiously but nodded once.

***

Jensen finished the last dregs of his coffee while packing, having decided to head back to Austin tonight. Clif had texted him he was ready whenever they were.

Sitting down on the bed he listened to the running shower and reaching his phone picked it up to start recording a video message.

He apologized for his atrocious behavior the last two years, asking the fans not to take it out on the show, this was all on him. To his coworkers for having to cover for him, they should have never been put in that position and if he had better character they wouldn’t have had too.

He next apologized to his family for his inexcusable behavior last night, which should have stayed private within their clan, and fully accepted his banishment by the clan leader, his father, for however long he deemed fit.

He lastly apologized to his new wife, they were irrecoverably tied together and he’d do whatever she demanded from him to make up for the horrendous treatment he’d shown her and hoped she’d give him a chance to make a go of their marriage.

He uploaded the video to his few online accounts and turned the phone off, wearily running a hand over his face. Getting up to take one last look he found his jacket from the wedding hanging in the closet.

Folding it he hears a crinkling noise and reaches into the inner pocket finding the marriage certificate. Tossing the jacket on the bed he unrolls the certificate reading his wife’s name Iseult.

“It’s pronounced Ee-sult Alpha.”

Jensen's head jerked up in surprise, “Hey, um, we're heading out as soon as you're ready.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll need you to button my dress Alpha.” She said repacking his bath kit she'd borrowed.

Jensen furrowed his brow, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in something else, I mean, I’m telling you what to wear but it’s a three hour drive to my..our home.”

Iseult looked down playing with one of the pearlescent buttons, “When I married my hus..ex husband, our prenup stated that I only got what I had in my possession at the time. Apparently, he disposed of my things at some point,” she fanned out the shirt, “this dress, shoes and veil, your mother purchased them otherwise the media would have had a lot more to exploit at my..our expense Alpha.”

“Let me give you something of mine.”

“Anything of yours will swallow me, you're much more solid. There is a Walmart on..” she abruptly stopped at Jensen's raised eyebrow, “I’m sorry Alpha, I overstepped my place.” She bowed her head and hunched her shoulders, exuding the scent of fear as if she is expecting punishment from him.

What had happened to this woman to make her believe she should cower and gravel? Jensen manages to keep his anger in check, not wanting her to be more scared of him than she was, thinking who the hell is her ex-husband and what had he done to make her like this?

Jensen slowly walked behind her and gripping the fabric was once again dismayed at how prominent her shoulder blades were, his gut telling him her slenderness wasn't something natural.

As he fastened the buttons he spoke in the gentle voice he used when Jared's daughter Odette was upset, “If you can survive till tomorrow I’ll take you to get whatever you need.” She nodded once.

“Can I make one request Alpha?”

“You don’t have to request anything, just ask.”

“I have a prescription I need refilled, there’s a pharmacy on Wilmont, it’s on the way.”

He plucked the jacket off the bed and held it open, “Please, it's getting chilly.” She slid her arms into the sleeves and Jensen saw she was right about being swallowed. He put on his ball cap and headed out.

When they got off the elevators Jensen went deeper into the hotel. He stopped at an employees only entrance off the kitchen and knocked twice. A double knock answered and he pushed it open to reveal a waiting SUV. He introduced Clif and handed him the bag, taking it to the vehicle's rear and loaded it before getting back in.

The wind had started picking up ahead of the late autumn thunderstorm. Iseult grabbed her whipping hair in one hand and her skirt in the other as Jensen opened the back door.

“Iseult?”

“I was waiting for you Alpha, its proper etiquette.”

“I was raised it’s proper for a lady to enter first, please,” he held his hand out to her.

Iseult released her hair and hesitantly took his hand. Jensen felt a skittering sensation go up his spin as Iseult quivered, staring into his eyes as a whirling wind intermingled their scents, enthralling them.

Clif politely coughed, “We need to go before the bottom falls out.”

A tremendous thunderclap sent them scrambling into the car as the heavens let loose.

***

The trip to Austin was darker than usual, the weather slowing the drive back and with the incident at the pharmacy, Jensen still couldn’t believe it, refusing the prescription now that she was married to an Alpha, needing his verbal consent.

Clif interceded before he went off about the subjugation of Omegas in modern society, reminding him they were in predominantly conservative Texas, where this thinking was considered normal, not California.

Jensen glanced over to see Iseult staring out the window when his phone vibrated. Picking it up from the cup holder he saw a text from Josh.

>Jenny, know I’m not supposed to be in touch but call me!!! Need to know the shit going down here.<

Josh picked up on the first ring, “Man, all hell breaking loose. Your wife's ex didn't notify his clan that he was divorcing or remarrying her and they’ve filed an appeal with the Pack council to get her back.”

“We were married in the Traditional...”

“The fuck Jenny, did living in La La land make you forget everything? Your the second son of a clan leader, you know Pack law supersedes all federal, state and religious laws. They’ve dug up some obscure sub-clause that states a clan has first right to remarry an Omega within the clan and if they don’t whoever takes them must pay settlements.”

“What are settlements?”

“Has your brain fallen out of your ass? The bride price.”

“Josh, that's insane, it's 2020....”

“No shit Sherlock, but this is Texas. Fuck, dads back already. I’m gonna leave my phone on, keep your goddamn mouth shut or it's gonna be my ass too!”

Jensen can’t make out anything then his mother clearly says, “..they are asking what for her?”

“Ten million.”

“Your shitting me!”

“Joshua, language young man.”

“Five of it’s compensation for damages done to the Omega.”

“What damages? Jenny’s got a temper, what Alpha doesn’t, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone unless he was forced to.”

Alan cleared his throat in the manner Jensen had come to know that something’s making him uncomfortable. “It seems the Omega was..unsullied when she married her ex-husband.”

“Holy shit! You mean she’s never been with an Alpha before Jensen?”

“Joshua, I will not tolerate that language and we will absolutely not discuss your brothers new wife’s...virtue.”

Jensen hears the tinkling of glass, “Donna, did you know about any of this?”

“Well..no, of course not.” Her answer wasn’t very convincing.

“Donna, what are you not saying?” Alan’s Alpha voice resonated, he only used it when his mate was being evasive about something she’d done.

“When Danneel wasn’t willing to reproduce for Jensen I put out some feelers about finding him an Omega…”

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Even if it is acceptable for Jensen to have a second wife with Danneel being a Beta, he would never agree to it.”

“I’m not telling you again about your language. I might have, at one of my appointments, casually indicated to Brent that I wanted an Omega like his.”

Who the hell is this Brent?

“Wait, Brent Worthington?!”

Jensen dropped his phone. It smacked against his other hand turning on the speaker allowing everyone in the car to hear.

“Donna, have you any idea what you’ve done?”

“I never thought he'd actually offer her, they always seemed so happy together.”

“He took your casual indication as an actual offer for his wife. You do understand that while we have to deal with each other they are still our rivals.”

The Ackles and Worthingtons were two of the original founding clans of the Dallas Pack, and rivals for centuries. Iseult had been married to the only Beta son of Abraham, the Clans Alpha, like Alan.

Josh’s voice shook as he spoke, “Mom, if the council decides to return her do you have any idea what they’ll do if Jensen’s already mated and claimed her?”

There’s a ringing phone and Alan answered, his voice loud then faint, apparently pacing around the room.

In the SUV dim interior Jensen could see Iseult shaking, awaiting the decision.

“The council sided with the Worthington's stating the law…”

Jensen’s inner Alpha raged, loosening a wrawl causing Clif to jerk the wheel, swerving across the wet lanes, throwing Jensen against the seat in front of him, landing on the floorboard before the vehicle was under control and stopped on the shoulder. Twisting around he sees Clif opening the back door checking on Iseult while Alan’s voice filled the otherwise silent SUV.

“...but taking into consideration today’s social climate they came back with the final decision since she remarried another clan leader's son her status is unchanged, so if we send her back there’s no penalty for damages. If we choose to keep her, it’s five million due to the Omegas age.”

“What did you tell them dad?”

“I told them we were keeping her, I won’t be the cause of anymore upheaval in my son's life. However,” Alan’s voice turned hard, “the council has ordered additional financial penalties set against both clan leaders for the transgressions committed by their families.”

“How much?”

“I paid twenty-five million for a Deuxième Omega.”

tbc

SPN: @donnaintx​​​​​​​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​​​​​​​

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

AYYYY she's awake :'DD

Aww honey that's awful :'((

For her baby?

Ahh her husband :')

Also side note: Bobby's gonna show up to visit or something isn't he and the guys'll recognize him o.o

Okay now back to pretending I know nothing xd xD

I mean it's okay honey you can sleep or be out of it-

D:? No honey it's not your fault!!

Noo honeyy it's not your fault it isn't :((( <3

Ahh they don't know they've found her yet :'o

YES he's here, and he's they can :'D

AAAHHHHH BOBBY :'DDD!!!

Aww carrying her in his arms like that :'))

AUOGH WAIT CRAP HE'LL RECOGNIZE HIM O.O

Glad to stop anticipating it though but yk xD

Ope not yet?

OPE NOW FOR SURE

Anyway pretending I don't: Uhh?? Sir?

Anyway AAAHHHHHHH

Awww Bobby :'))))

AAAAHHHHHHHHH good for that mom :'DD good for her so much :'))

OOP o.o

Hmmmmm

"No, but I know Nash" xDD

Okay he didn't say that lol

Well hopefully he's meaning that in a positive way o.o xd :')?

I'm scaaareddd y'all xdd

Hopefully it all ends up okay even with reminders of Bobby's past and not this guy being antagonistic xd

Why must everybody move to LA 😭

Where's the people who move to New York for a new start/big city xD

And what are the chances that it would be from one town lol

Where's the people who move to Austin (looking at you Strands) xD

Anyway lol

Awww guys :D

XD sometimes we switch slfjdls

Yeah okay they can clean up lol, but afterwards is good xD

Oope?

Thought I maybe saw something that mentioned Diaz (or Buckley Diaz) and Wilson (not sure) or saw something maaaybe so maybe Diazs? Might've been separate though idk

NOPE :O THEM!!

Y'all all stalking each other xD

Nah I'm kidding I'm sure they gave their permission for her to give out their information

Ahh yeah :'( :'/ :')) makes sense

I mean it's fine to believe either way

Aww yeah <3

Awww yeah Mara does :'DD

AAAHHHHHH AWWWW I'm so happy for them both :'DDD

He does remember her :')) 🥰🥰🥺🥰

AWW that's so cute and sweet :'DD :)) 🥰🥰🥺😭😭❤️🥰🥺🥰🥰🥰

[octopunkmedia]

Hi! My friend and I recently played D:BH and when we dipped a toe into the fandom, we found a LOT of Reed900. That confused us, because we hadn't even seen RK900 after our first playthrough and Reed seemed the opposite of nice. I finally watched your film and I really admire all the work you put into it, but I still don't understand. I love hearing people talk about the things they love, though, so could you explain what it is about RK900 that motivated you to make a whole-ass movie?

I've been in this fandom since literally day one, so I witnessed the origins of Reed900 and its growth personally (at least English speaking fandom. Russian fandom could be quite different). When DBH first came out, HankCon was definitely the dominant ship and primary reason we were all here, with some love going to Connor/Markus and Simon/Markus as well. A lot of people were non shipper fans. And you also had a handful of Connor/Gavin folks but no one gave Reed much development for the first 7 or 8 weeks. And at this time we all saw RK900 as evil. No one had any real "soft" headcanons for him. I remember seeing the Harrison Ford meme go around at that time where Connor was "Baby boy, baby" and RK900 was "Evil."

However, two things happened that changed this. One, a couple people started pointing out some of Gavin's dumb charm, like not being able to say "fuck" properly and winking with both eyes, which softened us to him. On top of that, as Hankcon casefics were written more and more, it started to become common to have Gavin as a background character at the DPD. And in many of these Hankcon fics, there was a subplot about how RK900 showed up and became Gavin's partner (often those stories were from Connor's POV and dealt with his feelings of meeting an upgrade of himself). Coupled with this, a lot of artists like Don Lemefo were making extraordinary beautiful art of Reed900 together, entertaining the concept of them being partners.

The fandom started to agree rather quickly that RK900 and Reed being partnered just made sense - and to me, I think this stems from the HankCon arc in the base game. Take a detective droid like Connor and have the asshole cop learn to love him - but Reed900 inverts many of the Hankcon tropes quite intentionally.

As more fics were written, people gave Gavin the habit of smoking to be "the opposite" of Hank's drinking. They gave Gavin a cat to be the opposite of Hank's dog. Many times Gavin is shown as anxious to contrast with Hank having depression. And then, we kind of can't ignore the big sexy elephant in the room lol. In Reed900, the human detective is generally seen as the bottom, while in HankCon, the human is generally seen as the top (don't @ me, I am speaking in majorities, not absolutes). As for 900, he is often a harder version than Connor - more sarcastic, more "take no shit," more aggressive in his dynamic with his human. I once saw someone say Reed900 was invented to give Gavin a dom, and I can't really disagree with that - although D/s and BDSM fics for HankCon absolutely did exist (there's one called Scratch that comes to mind) Reed900 seemed a more organic outlet for that sort of expression, imo. The fics I saw for Reed900 at that time were much more extreme, much more masochistic, just generally kinkier than it's sister ship.

So Reed900 provides a similar attractive dynamic, but offers a different version of HankCon, and allows writers to start from day ONE of their meeting rather than having the baggage of canon to deal with. Very quickly they started to become of equal importance to the fandom as Hankcon was, often paired up together as sister ships in solidarity. Kind of a Goofus and Galiant double date, where HankCon were loving and doting and Reed900 were the old married couple who called each other "assholes." Of course over time, fandom can't resist fluff, so Reed900 evolved from its BDSM/hatesex roots and a few slow burns like Fuck Pride and Like A Light I'm Luring You, along with some more comedic fics like DPD, cemented the idea that Gavin and 900 could actually LOVE each other. Even in the case of slow burns that were still sexy, like No Strings Attached, the softer side of the ship rose to become what I feel is now the most widespread version of the boys in English speaking fandom. Fanon Gavin was also softer and usually given a lot more redemption and development compared to his canon origin.

It always confuses me when people tell me that DE is the only Reed900 they enjoy because "regular Reed900 is too abusive." I have not seen such a thing in YEARS at this point. The overwhelming majority of Reed900 content created in the past year and a half has been incredibly soft, and very similar to how they are portrayed in Evolution. I did not invent that - it was pulled from all of my experience in fandom. The only thing I can say is that Russian fandom seems to have still held on to the idea of RK900 as a dominant tank, because I get a lot of comments from them about how my Nines is too soft compared to their version of him.

Also regarding the name Nines - I first saw this used in a fic by TerminallyDepraved back in July 2018 or so. Richard was the most popular name at first (a joke of his nickname being "dick", because....Gavin), especially because Brandon McCauley used it in what was, at the time, the most visible Reed900 casefic/slow burn series. It was also the summer of a thousand names of 900 lol, as every damn fic had a different one back then. Kay, Ace, Alex, Conner, Oleg (wtf Russia), Conrad, Conan, Collin, and some just left it RK or R. Over time the Richard name kinda faded for English speakers (although Russia holds it high still) and Nines/RK are pretty much the main ones I've seen for some time. Nines took awhile to catch on, as it's the name of a character in Nier Automata as well and that was hard for some of us to reconcile, but eventually it stuck.

TLDR, why I personally love Reed900 is a whole other story that basically comes down to "I'm Gavin and I need a Nines" (which Austin essentially is for me lol). I love enemies to lovers, I love work partners, and I love the possibilities. HankCon started to wear on me after awhile when I felt like I was reading the same thing over and over, and I eventually fell out of it. I didn't ever get that fatigue with Gavin and Nines for whatever reason. I just love them, more than I hate any of the struggle of making films, so that's the short of it.

Bear in mind this is one person's POV of how the fandom evolved so it's not an absolute truth, especially outside of English fandom. I was primarily on Tumblr and AO3 at the time but things on Twitter Jericho and Discord were not on my radar and may have been different back then (Hankcon was probably a lot hornier on Twitter Jericho than it was on Tumblr, for example).

What you gotta understand about Reed900 fandom though is 1) it wasn't random, 2) it wasn't a fucking "har har crackship" like people dismiss it as and it barely even spent time as a "rarepair", and 3) even though it isn't canon, it is so rooted in fanon at this point that there's a lot for new folks to catch up on, lol. Sorry I'm on mobile and can't put this under a cut rn - hopefully it isn't too annoyingly long. 👀

[tngrace]

Confessions

TK gets hurt during a training exercise at the academy which leads to a confession to Carlos about his past.

The background for their freshman year & how they met is in part one. But I don't think you have to read it for this to make sense.

Thanks to @moviegeek03 for helping this along and encouraging me to make this into a series. Your support means the world girl!

Read on A03; Tarlos/911 LS Masterlist

Sophomore year was going smoother than Carlos expected. TK had enrolled in the fire academy, and Carlos was still taking courses at ACC. He still wasn't sure what path he wanted to take, but he knew one thing for certain. He wouldn't be where he was without TK and his unwavering support.

Their friendship had steadily built all throughout freshman year. When TK made the decision to stay, Carlos decided to move into TK’s apartment wanting to get away from the family ranch and have a little freedom. Their closeness only grew once becoming roommates, and their friendship solidified into one of the best things in either of their lives. Right before school started back, he made the leap and kissed TK one night during Netflix and chill. They were both surprised, happily surprised, but surprised Carlos was the one to make the move. They’d both been thinking it, but Carlos was always so patient with TK, TK wasn’t sure Carlos would take the leap. It took a couple weeks, but when they became official, there was no stopping them. Carlos was well on his way to falling in love. He knew TK still had things he wouldn't talk about, and Carlos respected that because he knew he had his own share of things he wasn't necessarily hiding but just didn't talk about. They were building a strong foundation though, and he truly believed in them.

His class schedule varied each day. Mondays and Wednesdays were his longest days. Tuesdays he didn't have any classes, so he worked at a community center that offered activities for kids, teens and elderly . Thursdays and Fridays were half days and he would go to the center after that. TK's schedule was pretty straight forward being in the academy. He was in class until five each day, and he worked most weekends at a coffee shop with the occasional night shift at a restaurant for extra money.

Carlos was surprised when he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex mid-afternoon from class on a Wednesday to see TK's jeep. He was just running home to grab a book he'd forgotten that morning, but he had a bad feeling his afternoon classes were going to be forgotten. Carlos didn't recall him mentioning being home early, so he was a little worried. TK was laser focused on finishing the academy at the top of his class so something must have happened for him to already be home. He grabs his bag and heads inside. "TK," he calls out, closing the apartment door behind him.

There's no response so Carlos's concern mounts as he heads back towards the bedrooms. TK is curled up in his own bed, which is odd considering they've slept together every night in Carlos’s room since becoming official. "TK?" Carlos raps his knuckles on the door frame.

He gets a groan in response, so he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. He gently pulls the covers back. He manages to hold in his soft sigh at TK's tear stained cheeks. "What happened?" He murmurs softly as his fingers graze TK's cheek.

"Got hurt."

Carlos manages to hold in a sigh once more. He's learning TK can be a danger magnet without meaning to be. "How bad?"

TK shrugs and winces. "Definite bruising. Possibly cracked a rib."

"TK! Did you go to the hospital?!" Carlos is too exasperated with his boyfriend to watch his tone, his fear that TK is hurt in any form of way sneaking into his voice without him meaning too. He hates when it makes TK shrink in on himself some, but cracked ribs are no joke.

"No. Will be fine," he huffs.

"Come on let's at least go get you checked out." When TK doesn't move, Carlos does let his sigh escape. "Please? It'd make me feel better to know you're gonna be ok." He breaks out the pouty face he knows TK can't resist.

"Fine. But they're not gonna tell me anything I don't already know; EMT remember? And you have class."

"Just humor me. Class will be fine without me for one day." Carlos helps him up and gets TK's shoes back on from where he'd kicked them by the door. He decides to take TK's jeep knowing it'd be easier for him than trying to sink into Carlos's car. Once TK is buckled, with a lot of wincing on his part, Carlos heads for the hospital.

TK is quiet, and Carlos can tell his anxiety is spiking by the way TK's leg bounces and his thumb gets bitten. He gently reaches for TK's hand pulling it from his mouth and lacing their fingers together. "Wanna tell me what happened?" Carlos asks quietly to try and help alleviate TK's anxiety.

TK sighs but nods as he stares out the window. "Was a training exercise. What would happen if we were in the middle of the rescue and was ordered out because of the fire and structural concerns. Someone was still trapped and I thought I could get them. But the floor gave way and I fell. It's all simulated so it wasn't like I fell far. But with all the gear…."

Carlos squeezes his hand softly in support. "I landed on something down below. Don't think my ribs are actually broken. Just maybe cracked. The instructor told me to go get checked out, but I just came home."

"Can I ask why?"

TK is quiet for so long Carlos isn't sure he's going to answer him, and his leg has started bouncing again. "Don't like hospitals," is the only answer he gets before they arrive so he decides not to push it. He finds a parking spot, and then runs around the jeep to help TK out. "Come on. If you're as fine as you say you are we won't be here long. And if you're not, it's better to know," Carlos says quietly as he wraps his arm around TK as they head in.

TK stays quiet and he sneaks out from under Carlos's arm when they get inside the ER. He knows Austin is more progressive than Texas, but it's still Texas and he doesn't want Carlos to feel any kind of judgment for being with him. He signs in and the receptionist at the desk gives him paperwork to fill out. He tells Carlos he's got it and he can go sit, but Carlos tells him to bring it with him. TK shakes his head and tells him he's fine as he moves to the side and hunches over the desk to fill it out. Carlos knows TK has a stubborn streak so he tries not to argue with him even though he’s not sure why TK won’t come sit down.

Once the paperwork is done, TK passes it back to the lady behind the desk and they go to take a seat. Carlos can tell TK is in pain and he wishes more than anything he could take it away. They wait about forty minutes before they're called back. TK tells him he doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to, but Carlos just squeezes his hand in reassurance and goes back with him.

Carlos helps TK get changed, barely suppressing his gasp of surprise at the bruising across TK's chest. He's as careful as he can be getting TK's shirt off, but he can still see the pain in his eyes. They're not back in the exam room long before a nurse comes and wheels TK away for X-rays after taking his vitals. Carlos can feel her judging stare when she enters the room and sees their laced hands. He wants to snap at her when it makes TK shrink in on himself even more, but he doesn't say anything in fear she'd take it out on TK when Carlos wasn't with him.

Carlos texts a classmate to take notes for him for his afternoon classes, and then plays a game on his phone while he waits. The nurse brings TK back, and he can feel the anxiety radiating off his boyfriend in waves. The nurse doesn't say anything when she leaves, and Carlos scowls at her as he moves back by TK's side. TK won't hold his hand making Carlos curse the nurse even more. He rubs his hand up and down TK's thigh trying to reassure and calm him. " 'm sorry you're having to deal with this," TK eventually says.

Carlos reaches up and gently pulls TK's bitten lip from his teeth.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." He runs a hand through TK's hair. "A team remember?" He leans up and pecks TK's lips, holding his head steady when TK tries to pull away.

"Carlos."

"I don't care what she said. It's me and you," he murmurs, but he does pull back not wanting to add to TK's anxiety.

TK goes for his hand finally, but the curtain moves and a different nurse enters, making TK jerk his hand back causing him to wince.

"Want me to get you some pain meds sweetie?" This one asks as she takes TK's vitals again.

"No. No thank you. I'm fine."

"You sure? You look like you're in a lot of pain."

"No pain meds. Please," TK says, not looking at Carlos in any way. He can only think that the nurse hasn’t read his file.

"Ok maybe some advil then? Something to take the edge off?"

TK tenses at her words, his face draining of color. Carlos is looking at him curiously wondering what is going on, but TK has recoiled even further into himself.

"Maybe in a bit," Carlos finally answers so the nurse will leave and his boyfriend will hopefully relax again.

"No problem. Just push the button when you're ready for it. The doctor should be around with the x-ray results soon." She pulls the curtain as she leaves.

Carlos doesn't push. If there's one thing he's learned about TK in the year he's known him it's that TK will shut down even further when pushed. He runs a hand through TK's hair hoping to provide some comfort. TK's poor lip is bitten raw, but Carlos doesn't try to stop him.

The doctor enters about half an hour later and confirms TK's self diagnosis of a few cracked ribs. He suggests some breathing techniques to help with deep breathing to prevent from getting pneumonia. He also suggests TK take a week or two off from the academy to heal, but TK wouldn't hear of it.

"Well Mr. Strand since we can't prescribe you any pain medication, I would recommend you at least take it easy. I can write something up to give to your instructors, but I wouldn't recommend you complete any training exercises for a little bit. If the pain becomes too much, come back and we'll see how we can help." Carlos watched TK get paler as the doctor talked. He wasn't sure why the doctor wouldn't prescribe TK any pain meds knowing he had to be in severe pain, but it didn't seem to surprise TK so there was something Carlos was missing. He was debating how to bring it up when the doctor announced the nurse would be by with his discharge papers in just a minute. TK became more anxious after the doctor left and they were left in silence.

Carlos did his best to distract him, deciding now wasn't the time to ask what was going on. "Once we get you home, we'll put some ice on your ribs and get you settled on the couch with Netflix,” Carlos attempts a grin. TK nods but doesn't say anything biting his poor thumb nail to the quick.

The same nurse that offered TK advil earlier returns with discharge papers and a paper to give to his instructors. Carlos thanks her, and then helps TK back into his clothes. It's hard doing it without hurting TK but they finally get him dressed in his sweats. "Alright cariño, let's get you home." Carlos wraps his arm across TK's shoulder, and TK is too tired to shy away from him this time. He sees the same judging nurse from earlier, but Carlos just tightens his hold on TK and gives her a smile. She can take her judging and shove it as far as Carlos is concerned. If he wasn’t focused on getting TK home, he would find her supervisor and report her. His priority though will always be TK.

TK is quiet the whole way home, staring out the window, leg bouncing, and biting his lip. Occasionally his hand will run through his hair, and Carlos wishes more than anything he could take this anxiety and pain away from him. He periodically squeezes TK's knee in reassurance, but he's not sure it's helping much. Once back at the apartment, he hurries around to help TK out. Luckily they have a ground floor apartment, so he doesn't have to worry about getting TK up any stairs. Once through the door, Carlos tries to steer TK towards the couch, but TK stops. "What's wrong?"

TK won't meet his eyes, and Carlos can feel how he's vibrating with anxious energy. "I can't have pain meds because I'm an addict. I got… I got addicted in high school." He starts pacing and Carlos lets him even though he really just wants to pull him close and comfort him. "I went to a party with a boyfriend. He… I was young and stupid but that's not an excuse. I just wanted to feel something, something other than ignored. The pills helped, but I had to keep taking more. Dad…."

TK lets out a shuddering breath as he tugs at his hair. Carlos can't stand it, can't stand to see TK so upset. He walks over to TK and pulls his hands down as gently as he can. TK is tense, his breath coming too quickly for Carlos's liking. He gently wraps his arm around TK and pulls him against his chest. TK stays stiff in his arms, but he doesn't pull away.

"Slow deep breaths please," he whispers. He keeps his own breaths measured, slow, and deep as he lets a hand gently rub TK's back. He can hear TK almost wheezing, and he knows that has to be increasing the pain. "You're ok, TK. Everything is ok. Just match my breathing," he murmurs softly, guiding TK's hand to his chest to try and help. It takes a few minutes, but TK starts to slow his breathing matching it to Carlos's. "That's it. You're doing good. Everything is ok." Carlos just keeps up the slow breathing and rubbing TK's back until he feels TK sag in his arms.

He half carries half guides TK to the couch. He does his best to get him comfortable before kneeling in front of him. He carefully wipes the tears from TK’s face. “You’re ok. You’re going to be ok. You don’t owe me any explanations you don’t want to give ok?”

TK takes some shuddering breaths as he nods.

“Easy cariño. Slow breaths. I’m gonna get some ice to put on your ribs. Just want you to relax, ok?”

TK gives him a shaky nod; Carlos kisses his forehead and goes to the kitchen. He has some homemade ice packs from soccer strains that mold more easily around body parts, so he grabs those, an ace bandage and a towel. He gets TK a bottle of water before returning to the couch. TK has scrubbed his eyes free of tears, and is holding his ribs carefully. “Shirt on or off?”

“Off,” TK whispers, his voice scratchy.

“I’ll be as careful as I can,” Carlos promises as he sets everything in his hands down. He eases TK’s shirt over his head, sharing a wince when TK winces. He gets TK to hold the towel over the worst of the bruising, before he lays the ice pack down. TK winces again because it’s so cold, but he knows it’ll help. Carlos loosely wraps the ace bandage around him to hold the ice pack in place. “Can I hold you?” Carlos asks tentatively once the bandage is wrapped. “No pressure. No need to talk. Just want to hold you.”

TK nods, so Carlos crawls behind him on the couch. He eases TK back against his chest getting him as comfortable as possible with cracked ribs. Once TK is situated, Carlos runs a hand through his hair to help relax him. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough afternoon. But there’s one thing I want you to never forget,” Carlos murmurs quietly. “I’m always going to be here for you no matter what.”

He can feel TK’s body relaxing the more Carlos rubs his head. “You’re the only other person who’s been to the hospital with me. Dad was the other,” TK whispers so quietly.

Carlos kisses the top of his head. “I’ll always be there babe.”

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

“Don’t. It’s been a stressful afternoon. It’s ok I promise.”

TK relaxes more into Carlos’s chest and just starts talking. “I got addicted to opioids sophomore year of high school. I was dating a guy named Alex. He turned out to be a real ass. He was all into partying, and I went along with it just wanting to feel something. Mom and dad were always so busy after the divorce; I think I was just looking for attention from anywhere I could get it. Dad found out when I OD’d senior year and he found me in the bathroom passed out. He decided to be more present; he helped me get clean. He was the one who thought it best to get out of the city. Mom just wanted to micromanage me, but dad seemed to get it to a degree. I’ve always looked up to him, wanted to be just like him, and mom hated it. When dad suggested an escape, I randomly picked a place on the map, and here I am. I’ve been clean for two years. I went to meetings all the time freshman year, I just didn’t tell you. You were, are, the best thing in my life and I didn’t want to lose that. I found a good therapist here too. She’s been really helping me.”

“I’m glad TK. I’m so glad you chose here. I’m so glad you found someone to connect with that you are comfortable with. I’m so glad you shared this part of you with me. I feel honored.”

TK glances up at him, and offers the first smile Carlos has seen from him all afternoon.

“You were the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I’m the lucky one.” Carlos gives him a soft smile, but he can see the afternoon was worn TK down and he doesn’t want the exhaustion to stress him out. “Why don’t you try to rest. I can help you to bed or we can stay right here. I’m going to do some reading for class before cooking.”

“I’ll just stay right here with you.” Carlos kisses his head again as TK drifts off finally looking peaceful. He grabs his book to read making sure not to jostle TK. He knows the coming days are going to be painful for TK, but he feels he has a better understanding of his boyfriend now. He ends up skipping a couple of classes to help TK; TK goes to meetings wanting to keep himself accountable. He even invites Carlos to one of his therapy appointments as his therapist’s suggestion. It takes almost two weeks for the bruises to fade and TK to get back to one hundred percent. While Carlos hates that TK got hurt, he also has learned to appreciate every little thing with TK because he always feels more in love with him after.

[beauvibaby]

anxious - a.matthews

a/n: totally different than my writing normally on here, taking some random inspiration from things that have happened between my uncle and I

WARNINGS: mentions of physical altercation, anxiety, temper issues, cursing cursing cursing (I think that’s all I just wanted to make sure I covered everything)

“What do you mean you’re going over there?” I gasped into my phone as my mom told me she was going to my uncles house. My mind instantly flashed with what happened last time she was there, I could hear my shaky voice calling the cops all over again, the way I was terrified that he would lay a hand on her and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I’m coming with you.” I deadpanned, I was nearly at Austin’s place, planning on spending some quality time with him and some of the guys, and their girlfriends. “Y/N, I’ll be fine, you don’t-“ “for god sakes, mom, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I quickly hung up the phone, dialing Auston as I made a u-turn, he picked up relatively quickly as I drove a little too fast down the road, but it was empty so I couldn’t really be bothered to care. “Hey, baby, you almost here?” Auston asked and I could hear people talking in the background, I let out a soft sigh. “I’m going to be a little late, my mom needs help with something, I’m sorry.” I lied to him, not entirely, that’s what I had to tell myself. He knew of my uncles issues, but he’d never witnessed them, he’s only met him once and that was in a restaurant so my uncle was actually trying to act normal. And if he knew that’s where I was going he’d have a heart attack, over the safety of me and my mom.

“It’s alright, is everything okay?” He replied, hearing the way my voice shook a little, I could feel the anxiety building in my stomach, I knew a fight was sure to happen when I got there, it always did. “Yeah, just uh, her last bulb went out in the kitchen.” I lied, a stupid lie at that, but he believed it, knowing my mom had a bad knee and couldn’t use the step ladder to change her lights. “But I’ll call you when I’m on the way to your place.” I assured him, my uncles house coming into view. “Alright, love you.” He never failed to sound like a loved truck teenager when he said those words and it always made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. “I love you too.”

The second I stepped out of my car, I could hear them both yelling inside, “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I mumbled, rushing towards the house as my stomach knotted itself up in worry. I swung the door open and saw my mom standing on one side of the table, him on the other, yelling to the point of where his face was red. He was going back and forth between topics, not even making sense. The only words I caught, or even needed to understand was him telling my mom she was a useless bitch. “Don’t talk to her like that!” I shouted cutting him off, he looked at me incredulously, “don’t tell me how to talk, you’re in my house!” He yelled and I flinched back when he took a step towards me. “Dare I remind you that this is actually my mothers house? Because you’re a fucking lunatic who can’t be trusted to have anything valuable in his name!” I regretted my words the second his hand gripped my wrist. My mom yelling at him, he tuned out her words as he gripped my wrist tightly, I tried pulling it out of his grip. “If you don’t let go of me, I’m calling the cops and having you bakeracted!” I hissed, my eyes narrowing on him as my mom has her phone out and ready to call the cops. He faultered his grip and I took the chance to pull myself from him, “if you don’t go get your shit taken care of you’re going to be out on your own, I’m done dealing with your psychopathic tendencies.” I seethed, grabbing my mom by the hand and pulling her out of there. “Are you okay?” She asked as soon as we were by our cars, I nodded silently, “I, yeah, I’m fine, I’m going to Austons.” I muttered, keeping it together for her sake, knowing if I broke so would she. “You should.” Is all she said, climbing into her car, her tensions running high as well.

I was pulling into my parking spot at Austons apartment complex when everything started to hit me, but I sucked it up, wanting to go inside and see him and hopefully forget about it. I climbed out of the car and headed inside towards the elevator and gasped as I saw the already bruising mark on my wrist, “shit.” I muttered as I stepped into the elevator, it was the middle of summer, so I was in a tank top, and had nothing to cover the mark with. I was undoubtedly going to have to tell Auston, there’s no way he wouldn’t see it. When I got to his floor and I stepped out of the elevator I started to get anxious, and realized I never called him when I left either. I twisted the doorknob to his apartment, the door swinging open, “hey, y/n!” Freddie greeted. His tone was excited but came out a little loud making me flinch, he furrowed his eyebrows as I barely looked up at him, I had yet to walk in enough to see everyone else in the living room. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. I shook my head as I closed the door leaning back against it as I squeezed my eyes shut, I heard movement and when I opened my eyes no one was in front of me. I took the chance to angrily wipe at my tears before wincing from the pain in my wrist.

“Baby?” Auston called, speed walking around the corner, I flinched shooting straight up like a board, my back pressed flush against the door. “Hey, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” He whispered, seeing how tense and scared I was. “I lied.” I managed to squeak out before I hid myself in his chest, his arms were around me instantly, “what are you talking about?” He asked completely confused as I sniffled against his chest. He moved his hands down to grab mine, moving me back, “ow!” I whined, quickly pulling my wrist away. “Y/N, what the fuck happened?” He gasped, seeing the mark on my skin, “don’t be mad.” I whimpered, and he looked at me his eyes softening. “I’m not mad, just tell me what happened, please.” He pleaded, cupping my face, “my mom went to my uncles house, and when I got there they were yelling.” I paused glancing at my bruising wrist, feeling Auston tense a little bit. “He told my mom she was a useless bitch, so I snapped at him, and then he grabbed my wrist and got in my face-“ “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Auston cut me off, releasing my face as he ran an angry hand through his hair. “That’s it, I threatened to call the cops, he let me go, and I came here.” I tried reasoning with him as he had a stone cold look on his face. “He physically hurt you!” Auston snapped a little to loudly and Mitch, Stephanie and Freddie peeked around the corner.

Auston was too busy pacing around the entryway to listen to me trying to tell him to let it go. Stephanie knew about my uncle, having found me after yet another argument. She saw the look in my eyes, “oh, y/n.” She muttered rushing over to me, the guys sharing a confused look as Auston went out into the hallway. “Don’t just stand there, go stop him!” Stephanie snapped at the the two guys, they didn’t question her and ran out into the hallway. “I just want to stay here with him.” I whispered to her when she asked if I needed anything. “God they’re idiots, let me go talk some sense into them.” She sighed releasing me when she heard all the guys now angrily speaking outside. “Hey you, genius, get your ass in there and put your manly pride aside, she doesn’t want you to beat the shit out of him, she wants you to hold her and tell her she’s okay.” I laughed at Stephanies temper towards Auston and within a second he was back in here.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He sighed scooping me up in his arms, I hid my face in his neck as I held onto him, he walked into the living room continuing his muttered words of endearment. “It’s okay, any other time I would’ve gladly let you handle him.” I laughed lightly, and I felt him loosen up as he sat down on the couch with me as I still clung onto him. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore, I’m so tired of the drama. I just want to live my life without dealing with his craziness. One day he’s going to be my problem and I swear to-“ “baby, calm down, and one day he won’t be your problem, he’ll be our problem, and I’ll be damned if he lays a hand on you again.” He cut me off, his words making me let an audible aw fall from my lips. “We’re just gonna go.” Mitch muttered grabbing his keys off the counter, disappearing out of the door nearly as quick as he appeared. I let a soft laugh past my lips as I met Auston’s eyes. “Are you mad at me for lying?” I asked like a little girl. “No of course not, I just wish you had told me, but you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” He assured me, a range of emotions running through his eyes. “You know what would make me feel better?” I asked after a while of silence, he was gently holding my wrist with an occasional kiss being placed on it. “What’s that?” He mumbled meeting my eyes, a lopsided smile on his face as he saw my droopy eyes from crying. “Ice cream.” I practically mouthed, and he let his head fall back in a laugh. “That can be arranged.”