#i knew we’d have to live off that one scene

[ellewod]

"my dragon is dead"

nooooo he isn’t, stop lying, aegon 😭😭😭

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

[speed-world]

Idea for a story...based off something I saw somewhere else.

Y/n sucked into the cookie run kingdom game and transformed into a cookie and is a complete coward...like cookies, if they want y/n to come with them on adventures, have to bribe y/n into coming...or drag them as they scream in fear. They are terrified of plot because they know what happens in the cookie run story and feel like they wouldn't survive....

Buuuuut then, as they progress through the story, more cookies are revealed to love y/n and their presence in general make the cookies...nicer and more focused on making y/n happy than the plot lol. Like they start making sure y/n has their treats, that y/n is having fun, etc!

Cowardice…Pays Off?!

(Is this self aware? Kinda i guess right?)

You aren’t sure how or why this happened. One moment you were just by yourself, ready to play a newly downloaded Cookie Run Kingdom-The Game. You saw a lot of videos about its story and characters, and you wanted to give it a shot since it all seemed so cool!! Then, just as you started the game up, your game glitched and got stuck. The screen of your phone went blank. Then, like a vortex, it pulled you inside of the game and your entire body composition changed. You were flat, smelled appetizing, and you were a lot smaller than you were supposed to be.

You became a cookie…which horrifies you immensely!

Sure, it sounded neat to be surrounded by the characters that you loved, until you realize that you now have to go through the same story as them. A story that you knew most of the outcomes…

As you finally came to, you heard the crashing sounds of asteroids from outside. You studied your surroundings a bit more until you realized: This is the Final Battle of the Dark Flour War, which surely means-

“This is…Oh no, what a horrible sight.”

“The whole place is covered in Cookie crumbs!”

You heard footsteps of 5 cookies approaching you. You vividly remembered there words as the same words from the Final Battle prologue scene. But of course, you were there. And you noticed that the Ancients immediately froze and changed once they saw you.

“Despite the foul stench and scene, it appears that a Cookie made it after all…”

“Ah! W-wait, I-I’m not s-supposed to uh— p-please I-I’m so scared, d-don’t h-hurt me p-please!!” You freaked out at the realization, and buried your face in your knees. Tears welled up in your eyes as you began to weep.

Pure Vanilla Cookie softly approached you and caressed your back. He sat down in front of you and held your arm.

“We promise you, the last thing we’d ever want is to hurt you! You don’t have to worry, we’re here to protect you with our own lives, you have my word! I’m Pure Vanilla Cookie, may I know who you are?”

With how softly and assuring he spoke, you held his hand and nodded.

“Y/N…I’m Y/N.”

You hugged him out of instinct, which definitely surprised the healer, but he didn’t mind at all. He reciprocated the hug and then hugged even tighter…as if he’s been waiting for this specific hug with you for a while

“A-wait! You g-guys have to leave!! D-D-Dark E-Enchantress Cookie is too strong for y-you all!! Y-you won’t win against her!!” You panicked as you remembered the fate that awaited the Ancients. They all looked surprised initially, but then they all looked more determined than ever.

“While your concern is appreciated, we assure that we won’t back down from Dark Enchantress Cookie. We’ll take her down AND make assure your safety at the same time.”

You looked at Golden Cheese Cookie, quietly pleading with her and the other Ancients to not go and fight this battle. They all do their best to reassure and comfort you, hoping that you understand they can’t abandon this fight. One Ancient however, stared at you differently than the others. She looked at you as if…she actually knew who you were…

White Lily Cookie saw you catch onto her staring, and she shook her head to snap back to reality.

“I-I believe we should get ready! W-We need t-to find Dark Enchantress Cookie before she finds us!”

And then, as if on cue, you all notice the sounds of Cake Hounds rapidly charging at you. The Ancients ready themselves to fight, and you trembled as you got to your feet. You hid behind Hollyberry Cookie, tightly holding onto her for dear life and shutting your eyes…until you felt various Cake Hounds nuzzling your legs. You opened your eyes to the cute creatures smiling at you and not hurting you at all, which confused the Ancients.

“Shouldn’t these Cake Hounds be attacking us? These are Dark Enchantress Cookie’s forces, and yet they’re…rolling around and nuzzling us?!”

“It appears they’ve a fondness for Y/N. We could use this to our advantage, let’s move!”

Dark Cacao Cookie scooped you up with one arm and carried you as the Ancients ran to the castle area where Dark Enchantress Cookie was.

You screamed and pleaded to not go with them since you knew what would happen. Since comforting you didn’t seem to work, two Ancients had the bright idea of bribing you to come along.

“Come now Y/N, I promise to gift with riches beyond your dreams after we win this fight! I’ll even let these Cake Hounds be with you, but you’ll spend more time with me, my closest treasure~!”

“I’ll be sure to grace you with the finest berry juice ever! My treat!! You’ll never have to worry with me around, I promise you!!”

You were more relaxed after hearing the offers of Hollyberry Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie. After a while, you noticed everyone had stopped moving. You slowly looked up in horror…Dark Enchantress Cookie was waiting there.

“And so, upon the ruins of your home we finally meet. And it would appear…that you brought an uninvited guest~.”

…She was talking about you. You met your worried eyes with hers, but she didn’t look at you with malice. More she looked down at you like a mother would a little child…and you had no clue how to react.

Pure Vanilla Cookie stood in front of you, and had hardened gaze on Dark Enchantress Cookie.

“Dark Enchantress Cookie! What is the meaning of this?”

“Now, now. No need to be so hostile. In fact, I have a…proposition for you lot.”

“Proposition? What nonsense are you rambling about now?”

Dark Enchantress Cookie focused her gaze on you. You hid behind Pure Vanilla Cookie, but Dark Enchantress’s eyes never stopped following your movements.

“I would like to believe that we have a common interest. The Cookie that you’re shielding - Y/N I believe was your name, no? - There’s something about them that’s quite incredible, wouldn’t you say~?”

“What…w-w-what are y-you getting a-at?!” You decided to speak, or more stutter, for yourself.

“I’m saying I believe we’ve all taken an interest in you. Dare I say, we can come to a deal: I’ll cease my own vision for the world in exchange for the safety and prosperity of Y/N. Does that sound alright with you?”

You were very reluctant to respond, mostly because of how much you were taken aback by this. Is this really the same Dark Enchantress Cookie you remember?! Apparently, the Ancients had the same conflicted expressions. None of them truly knew what to say about this ordeal.

“Can we really trust her words? This could easily be just another scheme-“

“I AM serious about this, mind YOU! It’s abundantly clear none of us want Y/N in any kind of danger, and I can see it clearly in your eyes—all of us feel a special attraction to them, despite the odd circumstance~. There’s no reason to lie about it.”

You looked to the rest of the Ancients in anticipation. You had zero idea what the right answer was, if there was one, but you just prayed that you wouldn’t be hurt in any way.

“…..Fine then. For the sake of all Cookiekind, and for Y/N, we’ll trust you. But know this Dark Enchantress Cookie, we will fight you again if you ever back down from your word!”

“Hah, you won’t have to look forward to it~…”

————————————————————————

It’s been a while since then, and you still have no idea how to feel about your situation.

On one hand, literally nothing wants to harm you in any way. Every Cookie you’ve met has been extremely kind and generous to you, even if they’re evil aligned. The Bear Jellies are so warm and welcoming, and the Sugar Gnomes have virtually become your best supportive friends. Not to mention the Cake Hounds being head over heels for you, which you reciprocated the love for them.

On the other hand…there always seemed to be some small layer of tension whenever Dark Enchantress Cookie comes to see you. She’s always super nice to you, giving you immense affection that at times seems out of character.

Of course, the Ancients always get slightly agitated when Dark Enchantess Cookie visits. Especially Golden Cheese Cookie and White Lily Cookie, who really got upset whenever Dark Enchantress took you away from them.

Granted, White Lily made some sense with her relationship with Dark Enchantress.

But Golden Cheese really took offense to whenever you’re attention was taken off of her

In any sense, the most confusing thing was whenever the Cookies wanted to take you on adventures. Mainly the Gingerbrave gang.

You were incredibly scared of going with them, mostly because you knew of the danger of their adventures and thought you’d either be harmed or get in their way.

Whenever a Cookie invites you to travel with them, they always make sure your safety is prioritized. Sometimes they’ll try to bribe you with treats, gifts, or rewards if you tag along.

But sometimes, they’ll abandon their plans just to be with you and make sure you’re comfortable.

This life of yours was so odd and scary, but your fears would eventually wash away with how much the Cookies would treasure your being above all else. You’d grow to enjoy and love the affection and care, even if it seemed to be overwhelming at times.

[loveysloveclub]

sweet like sugar - luke hughes

in which, luke’s girlfriend is too nice for her own good.

one thing about dating a hockey player was that they very rarely got any time off, luna was no stranger to this. so, whenever her boyfriend got time off work, they made sure to utilise that time.

both luna and luke were currently getting ready for a day on the boardwalk. well, luke was already ready and sat on the end of the bed scrolling through his phone while his girlfriend tried on different variations of possible outfits.

“what about this one?” luna asked her boyfriend as she walked out of the bathroom in yet another outfit. this one was a light wash pair of wide leg jeans, a pink baby tee and just her regular converses that she wore everywhere. luke raised his eyes from his phone screen to look at the fifth, and hopefully the last, outfit of the morning.

“you look good, babe. but you might get cold.” he offered honestly. “you’re so right, let me get changed.” when the girl turned her back, luke jumped from his seat and grabbed the first hoodie he found hanging in his closet. upon entering the bathroom, he snuck up behind the girl and shoved the hoodie over her head.

luna looked at her boyfriend through the mirror with a deadpanned face as her hair was now a mess. luke smiled innocently before placing an obnoxious kiss in her cheek, “perfect.”

“wearing a jumper defeats the whole purpose of wearing the cute shirt, no one will be able to see it.” luna complained as she leaned backwards into her boyfriend. “i saw it.” luke rebutted before grabbing his girlfriends hand and dragging her out of the bathroom and into the living room of his shared apartment with his older brother.

said older brother was currently sitting on the couch alongside his friend, trevor, who was visiting for the week. the two sat on their phones in a shared sense of boredom. jacks eyes flicked over to his brother and his girlfriend, who both looked dressed to go somewhere.

“where are you guys going?”

“the boardwalk.” luke said as he fished his car keys out of his pocket. “did you guys wanna come?” luna offered with a smile.

“no, they’re fine.” luke immediately declined the offer, not wanting to spend his day off with his brother and his annoying friend. “we’d love to.” trevor grinned before jumping up and holding out a hand to luna, “m’lady.”

luna giggled before grabbing the weirdos hand and allowing him to guide her out of the apartment.

luke’s eyes shifted from the door to his brother who was feigning innocence as he too jumped up from the couch. “you guys aren’t coming.”

“luna offered.” jacks face of fake innocence turned into a shit eating grin as he too left the apartment. luke rolled his eyes before following after the trio, mumbling under his breath about how he was going to kill trevor zegras.

upon arriving to the boardwalk, luke hung back with jack as trevor dragged his girlfriend around as if she was his own. he took her to the roller coasters and even won her a big stuffed teddy bear from one of those game stalls that luke knew he would be sleeping next to tonight.

he didn’t blame luna, she was having fun and was losing track of everything around her. he wasn’t going to cause a scene and wipe the big smile off her face just because he wasn’t having a good time.

it got to the period of time in the day where trevor was begging luna to go on the ferris wheel with him, but the girl was quick to shut down the idea with a simple shake of her head.

“jack can go with you, it could be romantic.” luna laughed before pointing at the older hughes boy who was also shaking his head. “i’m not doing anything remotely romantic with you, z.”

“yes, you are.” trevor retorted before grabbing the boy and dragging him to line up. luna laughed at the sight of jack berating trevor whilst the ducks players simply laughed in retaliation.

her eyes travelled to behind her, where her boyfriend stood with his hands shoved in his pockets and a less than impressed expression on his face. luna approached him hesitantly before holding up her bear, “look what i got.”

luke offered a half assed smile, which only made luna’s fall. “what’s wrong?”

“nothings wrong, i like the bear.”

“this isn’t about the bear, what’s wrong?” she asked him again, wrapping her arms about the stuffed toy as she shuffled closer to her boyfriend so she was standing right in front of him.

“it’s stupid.” luke rolled his eyes, his hands now fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she was wearing. “it can’t be stupid if it’s made you upset, luke.” luna explained as she grabbed his hands to stop from playing with the strings of her hoodie.

“i just- i wanted today to just be us two. we don’t spend that much time together cause i’m always busy with hockey and you’re always busy with school, and i don’t want to spend the one day we have together with my brother and trevor zegras.”

luna could have laughed at the disgust luke held in his voice when talking about the zegras boy, but she refrained for the sake of her boyfriend. instead, she opted to smiling sadly up at her boyfriend. “i’m sorry for inviting them.”

“i’m not upset at you for inviting them, i’m angry at them for accepting the offer.” luke told her honestly, moving to be beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

luna laughed slightly before moving forward until his arm fell from her shoulder. she then grabbed his hand and began to drag him forward.

“what are we doing?”

“you’re winning me a bear.”

[jjunieworld]

“i dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room” ｡ﾟ･ 💋

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader genre: fluff, bestfriends to lovers, a little bit of angst, drinking/mentions of alcohol, non idol!au, y/n overthinking synopsis: you and your bestfriend beomgyu decide on going to a new year’s eve party so you’re not bored at the start of the new year. the party goers suggest that you all should play truth or dare. one of beomgyu’s friends decides to dare him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, knowing you have a crush on him. word count: 2.3k┊masterlist a/n: i really wanted to make a fic based off of this scene from the perks of being a wallflower since i recently watched it! i’ve seen so many other people write fics about this and i thought it would be fun to join! the perks of being a wallflower is literally one of my favorite books and movies of all time. enjoy! ♡

another year, same old you. the same you who had a crush on your best friend since you were six years old. the same old you who had to watch him kiss other girls on new year’s eve, girls that would never be you. the same old you that had to bite back your pain and smile at him, telling him how happy you are about his new relationship that will ultimately end up failing. the same old you who will always love him.

beomgyu sat next to you, flipping lazily through channels on the tv. it was new year’s eve and the two of you were sitting in his apartment bored out of your minds. this year you suggested spending the holiday in, together. just the two of you.

secretly you had hoped that with this arrangement you’d be the girl he would kiss this year, but it seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now than in his place with you. beomgyu’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it from the table. you looked over curiously and saw him typing rapidly with a small smile on his face.

“what is it?” you joked lightly, hoping to not sound displeased. beomgyu raised his eyebrows and glanced at you, letting out a “huh? oh!” the smile started to falter on your face. was he texting some girl?

“it’s taehyun! he’s texting me about the small little get-together he’s having right now for new years. he asked if we’d wanna come over,” beomgyu replied. your heart dropped as he stared at you, awaiting your answer. if you left, your only chance would be ruined. but if you stayed, who knows if it’ll even happen? that you’d finally get a kiss from your best friend beomgyu.

when you didn’t answer right away, you saw his shoulders deflate a bit. “i know you wanted it to be just the two of us, but there’s really nothing to do. i don’t even have any alcohol! and it’s not a huge party, just a small one! we’re gonna know everyone there!” you sighed as you looked back at the tv. it was some random fantasy show rerun episode where the villain was the darkness personified. you’ve seen it a million times before. you looked back to beomgyu and forced a small smile on your face. “okay, let’s go then!”

beomgyu jumped to his feet and cheered, doing a little dance. that brought out a laugh from you. he always knew how to make you laugh. how to lift your spirits and make you feel better. beomgyu was the bestest friend you could ever ask for, and you were glad to have him in your life.

it didn’t take long to get to taehyun’s place. he didn’t live that far away from beomgyu’s apartment. beomgyu was right when he said it wasn’t a large party. you don’t even think the amount of people here could count as a party.

the party goers consisted of you and beomgyu, beomgyu’s four friends, and two girls who you recognized, but didn’t really know. they were already pretty tipsy when you and beomgyu had arrived; ushering you in with wide smiles and pink tinged faces.

you were also friends with beomgyu’s four friends, yeonjun, soobin, taehyun, and hueningkai. they pulled you into hugs as you made your way to taehyun’s living room. drinks were poured for you and beomgyu and you drank them greedily.

you were in the kitchen, pouring yourself another drink when yeonjun walked in. you gave him a soft greeting as you turned to lean on the counter and drink from your cup. “expecting a new year’s kiss from beomgyu this year?” yeonjun asked you as he poured more alcohol into his own cup. you almost choked on your drink.

“wh-what are you talking about?” you stuttered, turning to him. yeonjun leaned against the table next to you and looked out into the living room where everyone else was. they were laughing loudly, sitting around in a circle. “come on, y/n… you and i both know that you’re in love with beomgyu. i mean, it’s so obvious i don’t know how he doesn’t see it.” yeonjun chuckled slightly and took a sip from his red solo cup.

your mind flashed back to the moment you knew you were gonna love beomgyu forever. love him more, deeper, than just platonic friendship love. to the moment you fell for him, and fell hard.

it was fifth grade, and you were having a hard time making friends that weren’t beomgyu. he had encouraged you to go up to some girls at recess you vaguely knew and befriend them. let’s just say that it didn’t go the way he intended.

you had went up to the three girls, a shy smile on your face and your cheeks heated from your growing crush on beomgyu, and began conversing with them about the my littlest pet shop toys they were surrounding. “i like your lps’s! i have a bunch at home that my mom had gotten for me! i can show you some time if you like!” the girl in the middle looked up at you from her crouched position, an eyebrow raised. there was a pink password journal tucked under her arm.

“why would i care about your littlest pet shop toys when i have my own? i own them all, containers of them.” the girl spat, causing her two friends to giggle. “yeah, she probably has the knockoff ones, she looks poor!” the one friend added. the other two laughed at that and the other friend then added, “she probably doesn’t even have some.” she looked at you as she stood to her feet, crossing her arms. “i bet she lied.”

the two girls who were still crouched also stood, looking you up and down. they had collected the spare toys off the concrete and held them in their hands. the girl in the middle scoffed at you, and turned to play somewhere else, her friends following.

you stood there in shock at the exchange. at how mean those girls were for absolutely no reason. you then felt a hand on your shoulder and beomgyu was in front of you. he must’ve saw the whole thing go down. you looked around you anxiously, looking to see if anyone else saw as embarrassment clouded you.

beomgyu cupped your face and made you look back at him. “nobody else saw, just me. don’t worry. those girls were jerks and didn’t deserve your friendship anyways.” beomgyu said softly as he wiped the fallen tears from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “come on, let’s go join the double dutch game.” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to where most of the kids outside were.

you knew that no matter what, no matter the situation or the outcome, beomgyu would always be there for you. would always be there by your side, a comforting hand on your shoulder. you knew that he would always wipe away your tears and take your mind off whatever was hurting you. on that playground, the mulch beneath your feet as you ran to the sidewalk for double dutch, is when you had fallen in love with beomgyu.

sighing as you downed the rest of your drink, you turned to yeonjun. “you know he doesn’t see me that way,” you said, trying to hide the sadness from your voice. yeonjun just shrugged a little, pushing off the counter. “you never know…” you raised a questioning eyebrow at his retreating body. what was that supposed to mean?

you followed yeonjun back out to the rest of the group. you sat down in your place on the floor beside beomgyu. he smiled softly at you, nudging your shoulder a little. “we should play truth or dare!” soobin suddenly exclaimed, silencing the conversations that were being had around the circle. there were some ‘ooo’s around the circle. your heart beat a little faster. you had never really liked truth or dare, always picking truth when asked. people would always get mad that you never picked dare, but you didn’t want to do any dares. especially any crazy dares. “we should!” shuhua, one of the girls who you vaguely recognized, said. “yeah! it will be fun!” the other girl, yuqi, added.

“me first! me first!” hueningkai raced out, and then leaned forward onto his crossed legs. he turned to look at yeonjun. “yeonjun, truth or dare?” yeonjun’s answer was immediate, “come on now! look at who you’re talking to!”

“i dare you…” kai trailed off for a moment, “to kiss shuhua.” shuhua laughed as she turned to yeonjun. there were some whoops from your friends and you chuckled at them.

“y/n, i heard you got into that one art school. congratulations!” soobin spoke across the circle at you. you smiled warmly, putting a hand to your chest lightly. “thank you! it really means a lot, soobin. this one over here…” you looked pointedly over to beomgyu, “still hasn’t even congratulated me yet.” a shocked gasp came from taehyun and beomgyu held his hands up in defense. “but it’s okay, i forgive him.”

taehyun laughed and then added, “we’ll be going to the same place. i’m glad i’ll get to see a friendly face, that school is so huge!” yeonjun then loudly cleared his throat. playfully glaring at you all. “you guys are about to miss some super hot gay on gay action!”

the group laughed loudly and focused their attention back on yeonjun and shuhua. he cupped her face and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as yeonjun pressed his lips to hers. they dramatically made out for a second before pulling away. the group let out a chorus of ews and disgusted faces.

yeonjun laughed. “my turn! hmm, let me think—beomgyu.” his gaze landed heavily on you for a moment before trailing to beomgyu and you cowered slightly. you thought about the question yeonjun would ask him, what truth he’d pull from him. no doubt it was going to be about you being in love with beomgyu in some way. maybe, “how does it feel to have a close friend be in love with you?” or, “are you in love with someone at the moment?”

“dare,” beomgyu immediately replied. yeonjun smiled mischievously. “i dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room… on the lips. keyword: girl, because you know i got all you bitches beat!” he said, pointing around the circle at you, shuhua, and yuqi. the three of you let out laughs. yeonjun was right, who wouldn’t want to kiss him?

beomgyu then turned to you, pressing his lips softly to yours. your eyes widened in shock as your hands hung in the air. he pulled away, looking at you shyly, his cheeks a deeper pink than before. there was a small smile on his lips. yeonjun jumped up suddenly, whooping the air as he cheered. “i fucking called it! kai you owe me fifty dollars!” kai’s hand slammed down on his thigh in disappointment, “damn it!” you looked around the circle in shock.

your gaze traveled back to beomgyu’s. he was already staring at you, waiting for you to say something. you can tell he was getting anxious. he really thought you were the prettiest girl in the room? you cupped his face softly and kissed him again. he pulled you closer to him as he kissed you back. you heard clapping from around you and pulled away in slight embarrassment. you definitely would’ve been more embarrassed and a lot less bold had it not been for the alcohol.

“happy new year!” yuqi yelled just as you pulled away, blowing into a party horn and jumping to her feet also. you and beomgyu looked over at the tv that was playing silently behind you. the countdown was at zero and the screen played fireworks and various people kissing under the night sky. your friends stood to their feet, throwing confetti from seemingly nowhere and blowing into horns as they celebrated.

beomgyu held your hands in his, he was pretty drunk, but not enough to not be aware of what he was doing. “y/n… i’ve been in love with you since like, the third grade. never in my wildest dreams did i think you would ever like me back.” he stated softly, you were close enough to hear him though. “beomgyu, i have loved you all this time... why did you never tell me? all this wasted time of us apart that could’ve been spent as us together.” you replied, staring into his eyes. you still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

he had just shrugged a little. “you’re my best friend, y/nie. i didn’t want to lose you over feelings you may or may not have reciprocated.” beomgyu rubbed a thumb over your cheek, right under your eye. it was something that he did constantly any time you were this close, and it use to drive you crazy. “but now that i know you love me back, we can spend our time together. as a couple?” he smiled sheepishly.

you giggled as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “as a couple,” you echoed, smiling warmly up at him as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @hueningm1ckey @dani-is-tired

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[gardenschedule]

just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: VILLAIN!HYUNJIN, FEM!HERO!READER, HYUNJIN OBSESSED W/ READER, EXES TO ???, SEX TOYS, LINGERIE, STALKING (?), CORRUPTION KINK, MENTIONS OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, CHOKING, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, BOOB/NIPPLE PLAY, HANDCUFFS, HARD DOM!HYUNJIN, ORAL (F. REC), UNPROTECTED SEX, THEY’RE MEAN TO EACH OTHER, PET NAMES (BEAUTIFUL, DARLING,), (1) PUSSY SLAP, SEX TOYS, BEGGING, ORGASM DENIAL, CREAMPIE, VIBRATOR TORTURE, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.9K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     It was a game to him. A little bit of cat and mouse. Who was who didn't matter? It was fun either way. It was a long game.

     To her, it was a frustration. Dealing with his misleading games. From small petty crimes to large-scale ones, he evaded her. Leaving the scene just as she got there leaving a note. 

     ‘Next time, beautiful. - H’

     A rose with every letter he left. Stumping his little hero in her tracks before he let her catch onto him. Purposefully letting her catch a glimpse of him when she came to stop him. Leaving hints till he was just within reach of him. 

      Playing his cards right to lead her to some dingy nightclub. Getting lost in the crowd. Watching her look for him till he caught her off guard. He was the cat tonight. 

     Quickly walked up behind her on the crowded dance floor and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her back into his chest. Leaning into his ear. “Don’t turn around, beautiful.”

     “Whatever you're planning, don't.” She replied.

     “Then you’ll follow me,” he told her, pulling her out of the crowd and down a hallway. 

     There was barely any light in the hallway. She couldn't even see his face. Just his silhouette— tall and slender. Shorter hair bounced slightly as he walked. 

     Making a sharp turn into a room before pulling her in. Keeping the lights off as he pushed her against the wall.  Pushing his body right against hers. Even in the dark, she could tell he was smirking. 

     “What are you after?” She asked, waiting for her to adjust to the dark to make out his face. 

     “Originally, just the thrill and money. Then you came to the city.”

     She knew that voice. Just couldn’t figure out where. 

     “What do I have to do with this?” she asked 

     “You haven’t figured it out, darling?”

     “Hyu—”

     Y/n was cut off from her sentence by his lips. Those plump lips that took her forever to forget. Just confirming her guess. Only he had ever called her that nickname. 

     His lips left hers as quickly as they were on hers. “Told you we’d meet again. Just need you to want me like I want you, again.”

     Hyunjin pulled away from her and quickly left the room. Y/n followed him a second too late. He was gone as quickly as he appeared. 

     She wasn't aware he was living a double life when they met. She’d just moved to the city for work. She started her ‘volunteer work’ a few days later and two weeks later she met Hyunjin when she was grabbing coffee before work. He had come up and asked her on a date. What could go wrong?

     Maybe it was his possessiveness that set her off. Some was fine but it had caused so many arguments between them in the few months they were together. If they weren’t fighting, they were fucking.

     It wasn’t healthy so she ended things. Five months went by without a hitch. Two months ago, “H” started messing with her. Now everything was making sense to her. 

     She was happy she was off from her day job the next day. Sitting on her couch with her computer and a cup of coffee, hacking into the police department records. There wasn't anything on Hyunjin, he was good at covering his tracks so the cops hadn’t caught him.

     She jumped when she heard her doorbell buzz. She shut her laptop and walked to her apartment door. Seeing a flower delivery man through her peephole. Sighing as she opened the door. 

     “For Y/n L/n,” He said 

     “Thank you,” Y/n smiled, taking the bouquet from him and closing the door. 

     Red roses. A signature at this point for him but she still read the note sticking out from the top.

     ‘I know you’re looking for me, darling. You’ll only find me when I want you to. Keep thinking of me ♡- Hyunjin’

     The pattern repeated every week. She’d look for him but it’d seem he disappeared. His little crime spree seemed to stop, but not other criminals. She did her job in the dead of night. Leaving them for the cops to pick up later. Even though it was their job to catch the criminals in the city, when she got home in the early hours of the morning, there was always something. Notes, flowers, gifts. His attempt at winning her back. Everything but the notes was tossed.

     She had a distaste for how often he was on her mind now. She’d barely thought about him in months but their nightclub encounter was messing with her head. Then she’d drift to their good times— however rare they were.

     Maybe that's how she found herself at the same nightclub. Her eyes peeled for him but he never showed. Rather she was hit on by drunk men all night till she called it quits heading back to her apartment building. Parking her car and heading back up to her unit. 

     She sensed something off when she opened her door. Nothing was out of place, everything was locked. Nonetheless, she quietly closed her front door and locked it. Slipping off her shoes and hanging up her things while grabbing one of the throwing knives she carried out her bag to check her rooms. Just to find nothing but a gift box on her bed. 

     Slowly she walked towards it and undid the ribbon. Jumping as her phone rang.

     She grabbed it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. Unknown caller. She answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear.

     “Not gonna finish opening your present?” Hyunjin’s voice rang the speaker

     “Where are you Hyunjin,” Y/n said

     “Mhm, I missed the way you say my name,” he chuckled on the other end of the line. Fuck that laugh

     Y/n put her phone on speaker and set it on her bed while she opened the box. Tissue paper covering whatever was under it. Lifting the tissue to find a red and black lingerie set with an egg vibrator sitting on top.

     “You like your gift darling?” 

     “Are you out of your mind?” Y/n asked after taking the phone off speaker

     “Mmmm, yes. I am. But you are too.”

     “I’m perfectly sane.”

     “Perfectly sane people don’t jump from buildings every night and take out shitty excuses for criminals. Or chase after their exes”

     “I’m not chasing you.”

     “You’re not?” Hyunjin laughed again, “Then why go to that club again? Definitely didn’t look like you were interested in any of the drunks that came up to you.”

     He was there. And he was watching. 

     “Admit it Y/n, you need me. All over again. We were almost perfect together.”

     “Fighting and fucking all the time was ‘almost perfect’ to you?”

     “The fucking, yes. Could’ve done with less fighting.”

     “That’s why I left.”

     “But here you are, chasing me.”

     Y/n went to say something else but he hung up. She tried calling back but nothing. Sighing in frustration she threw her phone on her bed. Moving the box off her bed and stepping out onto her fire escape for some air. She should just go to sleep but didn’t think she would be able to. It was nearing four in the morning.

     Putting pieces together on a chilly night. Hyunjin knew where she was— not that she moved after their breakup— and how to get in. He possibly could have made a copy of her key and was using that. But there weren’t any threats or danger in his actions. He was just obsessed. Which matched with his possessiveness. 

     He was also watching her. How? She had no clue. She went back inside and checked her whole apartment for cameras or microphones. Nothing. That meant he was close by.

     Y/n went on about her life. Keeping an eye on her surroundings for him. Waiting to see if he would slip up. And he did.

     Her coworkers had insisted on going out over the weekend. A group of them going out to the club and opening a tab. Forgetting about the work stress of dancing and alcohol.

     Hyunjin followed, just as he had. His whole plan was working far too slowly for his taste. Materialistic things weren’t working like he thought. Maybe he could get her alone again. And luck was on his side. Her group had left her on the dance floor and he was behind her in seconds, hands on her hips

     “You look good,” He whispered in her ear

     “Still trying?” She laughed as she turned to him

     “You’re worth trying for.”

     “What’s your end goal here, Hyunjin?” She asked as she pulled him closer to her, just to have a semi-private conversation on the dance floor.

     “Fuck you till you’re as crazy as I am.”

     Y/n looked over his facial expression. He was serious with that devilish smile of his. Leaning in till his lips ghosted her ear. “It’s not like anyone after me has gotten you off like I have. Isn’t that right?”

     “Been keeping that close of tabs, have you?” Y/n tried not to let it phase her

     “Of course I have. Tell me I’m right.”

     Hyunjin lifted a hand to hold her chin while he locked eye contact with her, “Tell me I’m right, and I’ll give you all those pretty orgasms you’ve been missing.”

     “Fuck you,” Y/n said before pulling him to her lips. 

     Hyunjin responded quickly and let his hand rest against her neck. Smiling into their heated kiss before pulling back. “That's my girl.”

     Y/n quickly pulled both of them out of the club. Hyunjin smirked at her eagerness, letting her drag him out to the alleyway behind the club. Pressing him up against the wall and pressing her lips to his again. 

     Hyunjin moaned into her lips before flipping them so she was against the wall. Pressing her hips against his while she gripped his jacket. Slipping his tongue past her lips and dominating her mouth. 

     Y/n fought back with her own tongue till his hand wrapped around her throat. Gasping as he pulled away and looked at her. “I wonder what this city would think about their favorite hero falling for a villain's charms.”

     He let go of her and pulled her out of the alley. Dragging her towards her apartment. The two made it up her stairs as quickly as they could while Y/n grabbed her keys out of her bag. Hyunjin pressed himself right up behind her, leaning in to kiss her neck till the lock clicked and the door opened. Walking inside with her and locking the door behind him. 

     Turning her around and walking her back into her living room, lips reattaching to hers. Backing up to the back of her couch. Y/n grabbed at the back of his neck, pulling lightly at his hair while he sat her on the back of the couch. 

     “Missed these lips so damn much,” Hyunjin mumbled against her lips as he shrugged off his jacket, “been thinking about them every night.”

     “Gonna talk all night or you gonna make do on your promise,” Y/n asked

     Hyunjin smirked and picked her up by her thighs. Wrapping her legs around him, “Don't be taking an attitude now darling.” He warned as he walked towards her bedroom 

     “Thought you liked it when I had one,” Y/n teased

     Hyunjin walked through her door and pinned her down onto her bed, attacking her neck. Kissing the top of her breasts that peaked out from her shirt before lifting the fabric over her head. Just to be greeted with the lingerie he had bought her. 

     Y/n knew his ego was growing seeing the red and black lace. She could see it in his eyes and by the way he practically ripped the remainder of her clothes off her body— lingerie included— before discarding his. Pinning her wrists to her pillows as he started marking up her skin

     Y/n tried slipping her hands out of his but Hyunjin was quick to catch on and moved to hold her hands above her head in one hand while looking down at her. “Can’t behave unless you're tied up, huh?”

     Hyunjin leaned over to her nightstand and opened the bottom drawer. Finding that his toy selection hadn't moved. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, and locking her to the bed frame. Y/n tugged on the cuffs, both of them knew how to get out of them. That’s why Hyunjin was quick to drag his fingers through her folds and wrap his plump lips around her nipple. His rough tongue flicked the bud while his thumb slowly rolled across her clit. Slowly slipping two fingers inside her. 

     Y/n arched slightly into him, biting her bottom lip to stop her moans. Hyunjin thrusted his fingers in and out of her, slowly picking up his pace. Switching between her breasts sucking, licking, biting, and blowing on her nipples. Making her shiver from the cold feeling. 

     Slowly his lips trailed down her body after getting bored with her tits. Laying on his stomach and wrapping his pretty lips around her clit. Sucking on the little bud and slipped a third finger in. Curling up into her walls. 

     Y/n slowly rocked against him as the pads of his fingers just were barely rubbing against the one spongy spot inside of her. “Fuck,” Y/n whined

     Hyunjin pressed on, finding the spot and abusing it along with her clit. Listening to her moans pick up. Feeling her legs shake next to him as her rocking became more erratic till she stilled. Warmth covered his fingers. 

     He pulled his fingers out and pushed his tongue inside her. Thrusting the muscle in and out of her as she rode out her high. However, he didn't stop once she came down. Licking her clean from the inside till he was satisfied. 

     Sitting up on his knees as he pushed her legs open, hooking his hands under her knees. “Don't got much to say now?” he teased as he wrapped one hand around his leaky cock. Pumping himself a few times before lining the tip up at her entrance. 

     “Just waiting for you to give me a good fuck,” Y/n smiled. 

     Hyunjin scoffed before sinking into her in one go. Watching her mouth fall open. He leaned down and he grabbed her neck as her mouth closed again. “You’re so much nicer to me when my cock’s inside you,” he chuckled as he pulled back and thrusted into her again. 

     Sitting back up and keeping his hold on her neck, using it to push her to meet his thrust. Feeling her vocal cords move under his hand from any whines and moans she was making. 

     “Seems like you missed having me inside your pretty little pussy,” Hyunjin groaned 

     “Didn't miss you at all,” Y/n shot back at him

     “Really?” Hyunjin pulled his hand from her neck and then pulled out of her. Listening as she whined and her hips bucked towards him. Her hole clenching around nothing, “Seems like you did.”

     Hyunjin brought his hand down on her wet cunt. Enjoying the little scream she let out. He peaked over at the open toy drawer to see what else he could use. Pulling out a magic wand and licking his lips. 

     He didn't think twice about turning the toy to the second-lowest setting and pressing it against her clit. 

     “Oh fuck,” Y/n whined, throwing her head back into the pillow 

     “You're going to start begging if you wanna cum,” Hyunjin told her 

     He kept one hand pressing the toy to her clit while he wrapped the other around himself. Getting off to the way her body shook from the toy. Waiting to hear her beg for him to fuck her again. 

     “‘M gonna cum,” Y/n moaned

     Hyunjin pulled the toy away from her clit. Laughing at her whines and pleas. 

     “Please Jinnie, wanna cum so bad,” Y/n whined, “Promised you’d give me em.”

     “That’s before you were a brat,” Hyunjin huffed 

     “‘M sorry! I missed you, missed having you inside me! Need you to cum,” Y/n rambled, tears escaping her eyed 

     “Yeah?” He asked, feeling his high quickly approaching, and pointed his tip at her wet folds, more aiming for her clenching hole

     “Yes! Thought of you every time I was with someone else!”

     Y/n gasped as Hyunjin filled her with his cock again. Immediately bullying his cock against her walls. Pressing the toy back against her clit, feeling her clench around him. 

     “Shit,” Hyunjin groaned. 

     Within a few more thrusts, he buried himself inside her. His warm cum filled her up. The vibrator slipped from her clit for a moment before he fixed the issue and turned up the speed. 

     Listening to her whines as he came down from his high just to finally trigger hers. Watching her hips buck against him. Hyunjin managed to pull out of her and pull the toy away from her to take in the full show. Smiling as she came down, their mixture dripped out of her. 

     He turned off the toy and tossed it beside them on the bed. Finding the keys for the cuffs and unlinking them from the headboard. Turning the hero onto her stomach and lifting her hips up and sinking back into her. 

     “Jin,” Y/n whined

     “You’re okay darling. Gonna take care of you all night,” Hyunjin smirked and nipped at her ear.

     Hands grabbing her wrists and pinning her down to the pillows. “Gotta remind you that you’re mine.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[diedraechin]

[Sneak Peek] What Chapter are we on now????

Chapter 52? Really? Damn.

Anyway, I have like one half of a scene to write before giving this to Io to edit, but I didn't want you all to think I've forgotten you since we're in the midst of the Grand Prix series. Besides the spills in the Skate Canada Men's Short (I'm still in the process of watching) reminded me of the even splattier place I left you hanging... So I thought I'd give you some fan chatter from the stands as a treat!

I did cut a bit out for length because I needed the set up but wanted to end on a specific punchline. So just know that there is more back and forth as a certain pole dance instructor gets a Katsuki lesson... 😉

“Ok. I found it.” Tabitha squinted at her phone. “He’s skating in the second to last group according to Skate Trails.” She looked away from her phone and over at her wife. “I don’t really keep up with Men’s though, so I can’t tell you anything about Katsuki.”

Jade just shook her head and leaned back into her seat. “That’s fine. I just wanted to see if we’d missed his skate because it’d be nice to see how he does.”

“I didn’t realize that you were a Katsuki fan!” One of the women behind them leaned forward. Jade and Tabby had chatted with her during the Pairs event earlier before going off on their antiquing adventure with the friends they were staying with during the break between the Pairs event and the Men’s. Though they’d ended up missing most of the first two groups all together since dinner had gone long. Still, it was kind of nice to see a familiar face. While Jade had known this was going to be an all day thing, it was really an all day thing.

<snip snip for excerpt length>

“I heard that a Grand Prix thing is coming to Detroit.” Jade was just happy to have something to add to the conversation.

“Really?!” Tabitha looked at her. “To Detroit? I haven’t looked to see where Skate America was going to be next season yet.”

Katsuki fan nodded. “Oh yeah. And I really hope that Yuuri gets assigned since he trains in Detroit because I will definitely drive down from Guelph if he does. I’d love to see him live again. And when the events are smaller like Grand Prixs, it can be easier to meet the skaters if they have the time and inclination.”

"Time and inclination? Katsuki?" No one could miss the snark from Newcomer, but given that she knew Yuuri wasn't the most...forward person, Jade didn't exactly disagree.

Katsuki fan smacked her hands on her thighs. "Let me dream!" Then she broke out into a wide smile and laughed.

“Looks like they’re going to let them onto the ice.” Katsuki fan’s friend said as she shook her friend's arm.

Jade and Tabitha turned around in their seats and sure enough, almost as soon as they settled, the announcer was declaring the start of the group and the skaters all took off onto the ice, some handing things off to the people standing on the other side of the boards as the six skaters scattered across the ice.

“I can’t tell who is who.” Jade said.

“Fluffy hair in the Japan jacket is Murata, he’s the other Japanese skater. Slicked back hair is Yuuri.” Katsuki fan said.

Over the speakers, the announcer started calling out the names of the skaters and the country they represented and each skater was greeted with cheers and applause even though none of the skaters broke from their warmup to acknowledge it. Behind them, Katsuki’s fan cheered for each skater but was especially loud when Yuuri’s name was called, shouting “Yuuri, Ganbaaaaa!”

On the ice, Yuuri unzipped his jacket as he headed to the boards and he handed it over to someone there.

“Oh my god! Is that Kai Tamm?! Kai showed up?! Hallelujah!” Katsuki fan certainly sounded overjoyed. “Should have been checking the forums, I bet her showing up was already mentioned.”

So did her friend. “My prayers have been answered! Do you think if I pray hard enough, he’ll come to his senses and go back to Alexei?”

Jade glanced over her shoulder at them.

“Kai is the assistant coach at the Detroit Skate Club that Yuuri works with. She’s the tiny Hawaiian woman next to the idiot Italian with the big hair who is supposed to be Yuuri’s coach. Sorry, I’m just from the side of Yuuri’s fandom who isn’t really pleased with how Cialdini is coaching our boy.”

And when Jade looked back, it was the woman who was talking to Yuuri as he nodded. Another skater came up and stopped in a way that sprayed Yuuri with ice, but Yuuri just leaned over and brushed the crystals off his black pants without looking away from the woman.

“Rude.” Tabitha muttered. “Shouldn’t he get in trouble?”

“It’s Michele Crispino. It wouldn’t be a competition where they competed together without Yuuri getting sprayed by a Michele hockey stop.” And as Newcomer finished their commentary, Michele left the boards, but not without patting Yuuri once on the shoulder. Without looking Yuuri held out a thumbs up to the other skater which Yuuri’s coach seemed to approve of since he looked like he was laughing.

“Michele is going to regret that because KAI IS HERE!” Katsuki’s fan cheered. A few people around them chuckled.

“Using the Goncharov (1973) soundtrack for his Free is reason enough for Mickey to come ahead of Katsuki!” someone commented.

“Are you a Mickey fan or a Goncharov fan?” Newcomer asked.

“Does it matter?” came the reply.

[cimerran-714]

Well, as many people love to claim that Ron's not at fault for abandoning the Trio in Deathly Hallows (some Ron stans instead prefer to shift the blame to Harry instead by reading things out of context), I thought I'd analyze the entire scene here.

So, to start with, I really like Ron. But I do not think that you have to excuse everything a character does in order to like him. Now, Ron fans would probably just claim that I am lying about liking Ron, but I don't care about that.

Let's get started, shall we?

“So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade then? What d’you reckon, Ron? Ron?” Harry looked around. For one bewildered moment he thought that Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk, looking stony. “Oh, remembered me, have you?” he said.

Okay, so it begins with Harry looking for Ron, and he notices him lying next to a bunk "looking stony". He makes a comment asking whether Harry's remembered him.

Now, how does Harry respond to that?

"What?” Ron snorted as he started up at the underside of the upper bunk. “You two carry on. Don’t let me spoil your fun.” Perplexed, Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she shook her head, apparently as nonplussed as he was. “What’s the problem?” asked Harry.

Harry's understandably confused. He says "What?" and then exchanges a look with Hermione, who's similarly perplexed. And then, Harry asks him again what the problem was. He just says "What's the problem?" and nothing else.

“Problem? There’s no problem,” said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry. “Not according to you, anyway.” There were several plunks on the canvas over their heads. It had started to rain. “Well, you’ve obviously got a problem,” said Harry. “Spit it out, will you?

Ron refuses to elaborate & just says that according to Harry, there's no problem. Harry replies by asking him to "spit out". Well, that maybe he considered rude, but how would you even respond to it? They were discussing Horcruxes & Ron's talking about how the others "remembered" him now, that Harry shouldn't let him "spoil their fun", and that Harry doesn't think there's a problem.

Considering the context, it's a valid thing to say.

Ron swung his long legs off the bed and sat up. He looked mean, unlike himself. “All right, I’ll spit it out. Don’t expect me to skip up and down the tent because there’s some other damn thing we’ve got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don’t know.” “I don’t know?” repeated Harry. “I don’t know?”

Ron looks unlike his usual self as he then implies that he doesn't care about what they had found out, and that it's Harry's fault. That's why Harry repeated the same thing. He was just surprised and shocked.

Plunk, plunk, plunk. The rain was falling harder and heavier; it pattered on the leaf-strewn bank all around them and into the river chattering through the dark. Dread doused Harry’s jubilation. Ron was saying exactly what he had suspected and feared him to be thinking. “It’s not like I’m not having the time of my life here,” said Ron, “you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we’d been running round a few weeks, we’d have achieved something.

Ron talks about how the Horcrux hunting wasn't similar to his expectations.

Again, Harry responded calmly:

"I thought you knew what you’d signed up for,” said Harry. “Yeah, I thought I did too.” “So what part of it isn’t living up to expectations?” asked Harry. Anger was coming to his defense now. “Did you think we’d be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you’d be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

For Harry using the phrase "back to Mummy", remember that Ron agreed to come to help even though Harry said that they shouldn't, and now he's upset that it's not working out & is sulking. Anyone would have gotten angry. Seriously, Ron just makes it sound as if Harry forced him to come along.

"We thought you knew what you were doing!” shouted Ron, standing up, and his words pierced Harry like scalding knives. “We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!” “Ron!” said Hermione, this time clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof, but again, he ignored her. “Well, sorry to let you down,” said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. “I’ve been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve found on Horcrux—”

Ron's words are scathing, but remarkably, Harry is STILL calm in his response. He's composing himself as he explains to Ron that he did tell them everything that he knew.

"Yeah, and we’re about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them—nowhere effing near in other words.” “Take off the locket, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice unusually high. “Please take it off. You wouldn’t be talking like this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day.” “Yeah, he would,” said Harry, who did not want excuses made for Ron. “D’you think I haven’t noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D’you think I didn’t guess you were thinking this stuff?"

Well, Hermione IS being unfair by blaming it on the locket. We do know that Ron left even after he removed the locket, and like Harry said, they were whispering behind his back.

Further on:

"Harry we weren’t—” “Don’t lie!” Ron hurled at her. “You said it too, you said you were disappointed, you said you’d thought he had a bit more to go on than—” “I didn’t say it like that—Harry, I didn’t!” she cried. The rain was pounding the tent, tears were pouring down Her- mione’s face, and the excitement of a few minutes before had van- ished as if it had never been, a short-lived firework that had flared and died, leaving everything dark, wet, and cold. The sword of Gryffindor was hidden they knew not where, and they were three teenagers in a tent whose only achievement was not, yet, to be dead. “So why are you still here?” Harry asked Ron. “Search me,” said Ron.

Read the last part. Harry asks him why he's still there and Ron replies by saying that he doesn't know. THAT is when Harry asks him to leave; Ron made it clear that he does not even want to remain there any more.

Remarkably, Harry is STILL replying calmly when he asks him to go home.

"Go home then,” said Harry. “Yeah, maybe I will!” shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. “Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-Faced-Worse Potter doesn’t care what happens to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spider and mental stuff—”

Ron talks about how Harry doesn't care about what happens to Ginny.

And incredibly, Harry is STILL calm.

“I was only saying—she was with the others, they were with Hagrid—” “Yeah, I get it, you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family, the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured, did you hear that?” “Yeah, I—” “Not bothered what it meant, though?”

“Not bothered what it meant, though?” “Ron!” said Hermione, forcing her way between them. “I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about: think, Ron, Bill’s already scarred; plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you’re supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I’m sure that’s all he meant—” “Oh, you’re sure, are you? Right then, well, I won’t bother myself about them. It’s all right for you two, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way—” “My parents are dead !” Harry bellowed

There you go. Ron insults Harry's parents greatly by talking about how his parents are "safely out of the way". At this point, Harry, who has been remarkably calm overall, loses his temper.

Honestly, you know what happens after that. Harry responds to him by asking him to essentially fuck off, and Ron begins to escalate it physically and attack Harry (a fight was averted by Hermione's shield charm).

And then Ron left even AFTER having removed the locket. Don't blame it on the locket, it's a weak excuse.

So, to summarize:

Ron started the argument.

Harry replies in a mostly calm manner.

Ron insults Harry's dead parents upon which the latter finally loses his temper.

Ron leaves after removing the locket.

Yeah, sorry, I am still 100% going to blame Ron here.

[lemoncrushh]

Connect

Summary: Not wanting to lose their connection, Lily takes a surprise trip to see Harry.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Real Harry x OC, written in first person. This is the last of my writings from 2019 (technically the first one since I'm reposting backwards). Obviously, this was heavily based on Live on Tour. I think I was just testing the waters then after having taken a break from fics. The only thing I focused on in 2018 was a longer fic which will come later. So next, I'll be reposting the one shots from 2017.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice raspy and weary.

“I miss you, too.”

“I wish you were here with me,” said Harry. “I know you didn’t wanna be, cause it’s crazy, but-”

“I never said I didn’t wanna be,” I interrupted.

“Well, you can’t. And I get it.”

With a sigh, I rolled over onto my stomach as I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. The truth was, I wanted to be with him more than anything. I just felt like it was too soon. We’d only started dating a few months before he left for the tour. Things had been such a whirlwind then, that it was a wonder we’d managed to actually become a thing. I’d worried that we’d moved too fast, and when Harry had asked me to consider flying out for some of the shows, I’d hesitated. In the end, I’d told him I couldn’t do anything on short notice since I didn’t have vacation time yet and my job was still relatively new. But I promised I would make plans to be with him for his final show in Los Angeles. He’d said he understood, but each time we talked on the phone, he seemed to miss me more and more. It broke my heart to say the least.

“I just don’t think I can-“

“Lily,” he interrupted this time. “It’s okay. Let’s change the subject.”

That night when I went to bed, I thought about our conversation. Though the rest of it had been sweet and light-hearted, I had felt the weight of Harry’s tone. He wasn’t mad, or even upset, but I could tell he was having a hard time concealing his emotions.

Throwing the covers off of me, I hopped out of bed and grabbed my laptop. Like the word nerd I was, I googled.

Emotion. Noun. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.

Relationship. Noun. The way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected, or the state of being connected.

Harry and I were connected. I knew it from the moment we met. Not to sound cheesy, like it was some grand scene of kismet in a rom com, but I’d felt something that first day.

Literally, it had been my first day at my new job. After years of trying to be a writer and applying for any kind of position that was remotely associated with writing, taking jobs as a receptionist at a local fluff newspaper and a data entry operator in the accounting department of a publishing company, and even working behind the counter at a bookstore, I’d finally landed my dream job. Well, not so much dream as it was...how shall I put this...the bottom of the totem pole at a company I wanted to work for. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right? So what if I was pouring coffee and scheduling meetings and *cough* picking up dry cleaning? I was working for an amazing magazine. No, I wasn’t writing anything yet, but I was finally getting somewhere!

The stars must have been aligned that day. Being the “new girl”, I was led around the office by my boss as she introduced me to everyone. We’d just made it past the editing department when Candace, my boss, lifted her cell to her ear with a frown.

I didn’t understand the conversation, especially with only hearing one side of it, but I certainly caught the words “Harry Styles” and “lunch interview” followed by a few expletives. My breath stilled, and I’m pretty sure my heart did too. Trying to act casual as Candace returned her phone to her pocket, I blinked several times and shifted the weight between my feet.

“Lily,” she turned to me. “I know it’s your first day and you barely know your way around here, but I need a favor.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Her expression relaxed as she gave a gentle smile. “Congratulations. You get the opportunity no one else has ever gotten on their first day.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d agreed to it, other than the fact that I’d wanted this job more than anything, and impressing Candace was my top priority. But to say I was a nervous wreck as I rode next to her in her BMW to a restaurant so luxurious I’d only ever dreamed of dining there, was an understatement. Apparently Candace’s head writer had gotten into an accident on the freeway that morning and was unable to get to the interview on time. That meant either sending someone else to have lunch with Harry Styles or going herself. Deciding quickly on the latter, and because it was my first day as her personal assistant, I got to tag along, notebook in hand. Well, not exactly in hand. It was in my bag. But you get the idea.

I hadn’t really known what to expect, both in meeting Harry and in getting to eat lunch at this particular restaurant, but within ten minutes I got the answers. The restaurant, while swanky with a limited menu, still felt like any other restaurant I’d been to, albeit upscale. Cloth napkins, iced water in big glasses that looked like they were more for wine or brandy, and tinkly piano music to complete the ambience. And as for Harry Styles...well let’s just say, he was the coolest person I’d ever met. And I don’t mean cool as in too cool for me, or too cool for school. I mean he was so completely down-to-earth that I immediately felt at ease. Sure, my insides were a mess, my heart beating out of my chest and my stomach doing somersaults, but despite that, he didn’t come off as a “celebrity”. He was charming and funny and easy to talk to. And because I was Candace’s assistant, you would think he’d only direct his answers to her. But he looked over at me several times with a sexy, easy grin and made sure he included me in the conversation.

Once Candace got up to take another phone call, and I was left alone with Harry. Afraid I might say or do something stupid, I looked at the notes I had written down. Candace of course had recorded the conversation on her phone with Harry’s permission, so I wasn’t quite sure why she’d had me take notes too. But such is the job of an assistant, I presumed.

After a moment or two of silence, Harry said something, though it took me a second to realize he was addressing me.

“Sorry?” I looked up from my scribbles.

“Is the interview done?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Um...I don’t think so,” I stumbled.

“Then why are you looking at that? I’m right here.”

My heart plummeted to my stomach, and I thought I might vomit the salad I’d just eaten.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I shoved my notebook into my bag, my face no doubt red from embarrassment. I wanted to crawl under the table...on the other side of the restaurant.

Suddenly Harry laughed. A good, hearty laugh. I looked up at him to see the little crinkles next to his eyes as he chuckled, dimples dipping in his cheeks.

“Loosen up, Lily,” he said.

It took me a second, and a shake of my head, to remember that he knew my name. But the fact that he’d remembered it after only learning it once briefly when Candace had introduced me was another thing entirely. And...was he teasing me?

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“I’m just giving you a hard time. You seem very nervous.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled. Then he gestured toward where Candace had walked off. “Is she hard to work for?”

I relaxed, exhaling and placing my hands in front of me. “Truth?”

“Of course.”

“It’s my first day.”

A grin spread across Harry’s handsome face. Just then Candace emerged from the hallway headed back to our table. Harry quickly and simply leaned over towards me, covering my hand with his.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered.

And that’s when I knew.

Okay, it’s not when I knew we were meant to be together or would fall in love or any of that. But I felt connected. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was something.

I hadn’t gotten another assignment quite like that one again. At least not yet. Most of my job consisted of running errands and getting coffee, although I did get to see and greet a few celebrities here and there. But when Harry’s interview was printed, I received a bouquet of flowers. Lilies.

Harry and I laughed about it for days after he called to ask me out. We both agreed it was cheesy, but he admitted he liked the cheese. I’d fallen for it, after all. Sucker.

Emotion. Noun. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.

I stared at the screen, reciting the definition over and over. Harry and I were in a relationship. He was far away and it would be a long time before he returned. How could I not feel any emotion about it? How could I not consider his feelings as well? How could I keep pretending I didn’t miss him more than anything? How could I possibly keep this amazing relationship alive if I wasn’t willing to try to put more effort in re-establishing our connection?

Connect. Verb. Bring together or into contact so that a real or notional link is established.

Indeed.

With one or two more clicks of the mouse, I found myself on an airline website. Then opening a second tab, I brought up another website and searched for Harry Styles tickets. Flipping between the two sites, I chose a concert on a Saturday and managed to find a decent price for a flight. I figured I could fly out on Friday and be back by Sunday. I wouldn’t even have to miss work. A few clicks later, and I’d made my purchases. I was going to see Harry.

It had been a while since I’d been to a concert. Despite being a huge fan of music and having my own list of favorites, I hadn’t been inside an arena in at least a few years. My ears were already ringing from the noises around me, fans eager for Harry to take the stage.

I had a seat near the B stage. I hadn’t known what that meant until I’d bought my ticket and began to watch fan videos on YouTube. During the middle of the show, Harry stepped off the main stage and walked the gauntlet so to speak, screaming fans on either side, and made his way to a second smaller stage near the back of the arena where he performed a few songs acoustically. I’d watched several videos so far, and this was probably my favorite part of the show. It seemed so intimate, like Harry was giving his audience a special little piece of himself. Sometimes he’d throw in a little banter which made me giggle and remind me why I liked him so much.

I’d also seen fans giving him flowers. I thought that might be a little presumptuous and perhaps even ridiculous, not because he didn’t deserve them, but because...what if he didn’t take them? Or what if they got crushed in all the excitement? The poor girl spent her money on a bouquet for nothing. But I reckoned I’d take my chance. And if nothing else, we’d have a laugh over it later.

No, Harry didn’t know I was coming. It was a surprise. We’d even talked on the phone the night before after I’d landed and was snug as a bug in my hotel bed. He hadn’t a clue.

When the lights went out, I immediately felt the excitement the rest of the arena did. I even laughed and hugged the girl next to me when she grabbed my arm and screamed in my ear.

Before the first song was over, one thing was certain. Watching Harry Styles on YouTube was not the same as watching him in person. You would think I wouldn’t be screaming and dancing with the rest of the crowd since I actually knew the guy personally, let alone had the privilege of dating him. But holy cow, was I a fangirl! It was like watching Mick Jagger, Freddie Mercury and some cool indie rocker all rolled into one. I was so mesmerized and lost in every single song that I almost forgot about him coming to the B stage. Until it happened.

I’d laid my bouquet of lilies as gently as I could underneath my seat, hoping they didn’t get stomped on. I quickly retrieved them as soon as he took the steps down the main stage and waited for him to come closer. To be honest, up till this point, I suppose I had just assumed he would catch a glimpse of me, but I hadn’t considered anything further than that. My stomach started doing the flips as he climbed onto the small stage, and I saw him wave to the crowd. I didn’t want to make my presence obvious, but I did want him to know I was there. But his eyes grazed right over me and then he pulled his guitar strap over his head.

Disappointment ate at me as I felt my chest deflate. Nevertheless, Harry sang the first song beautifully, and it brought tears to my eyes. As he introduced the chords to the next song, teasing the audience a bit, I almost thought he saw me. But instead he tucked his guitar pick between his teeth and spread out his arms, making the crowd cheer loudly. The girl next to me began to jump up and down, making the ground tremble beneath my feet. I sort of wished she’d make enough noise for Harry to look our way, but he seemed to be taking it all in, letting the fans simmer in their excitement.

Finally, he began to sing. It was one of my favorite ballads where everyone with a cell phone brought it up to display their flashlights or bright screens. I sang along with him, wishing I could somehow channel my thoughts to him, make him look my way telepathically. Suddenly, during the breakdown after the bridge, his gaze met mine. It was kind of comical how his eyes widened as though he wasn’t sure he’d really seen me. I smiled, holding my lilies underneath my chin. Then he smiled too, one corner of his mouth sliding up further than the other. The crowd seemed to scream even louder, thinking his pause and smirk was somehow a reaction to them. I was perfectly fine with letting them think that. But I knew it was for me.

Harry finished the song, his audience singing in unison. Then he took me by surprise by setting down his guitar, walking to the edge of the stage, and reaching out. At first I wasn’t sure what was going on, but then someone nearby, a stagehand or someone from the soundboard, or maybe even Jeffrey Azoff, heck if I knew then, took the flowers from my hands and handed them to Harry. He smiled, inhaled deeply, smiled even wider, then blew me a kiss.

Everything after that happened so fast, it was a whirlwind. I think someone took the flowers back from Harry and put them somewhere. Then Harry sang one more song before heading back to the main stage. The cute girl next to me grabbed my arm again and squealed that he’d taken my flowers, and I was so freaking lucky, and that she was gonna do that next time, if she got to see him again. I giggled with her and squeezed her hand, then we watched the rest of the show in glee.

I hugged my new friend goodbye after the lights came back on, not really sure what to do next. Obviously I’d come to see Harry, not just his concert. But I didn’t know if I should stick around and wait for him, or go back to my hotel.

I opted for watching the crowd fizzle out as they sang and danced down the aisles towards the exits. I was just about to climb the steps myself and make my way to the restroom when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Where are you?

I grinned, quickly texting him back.

Still in my seat.

I’ll send someone for you.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d had to wait another half hour or so before someone came to retrieve me. Working somewhat in the entertainment industry - even for a few months - I was used to a lot of waiting. But it wasn’t barely five minutes before a man with a tight smile on his face came to greet me.

“Follow me,” he said simply.

The hallway backstage was brightly lit and smelled of sweat and cologne. It reminded me of a high school gym. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting as I’d seen many movies and documentaries about bands, but for some reason it wasn’t that. Still, I followed the man down the corridor to a closed door onto which he knocked. Someone must have given him the all clear and he pushed open the door and gestured for me to enter.

Now, the fangirl in me would have kicked myself for not first noticing the shirtless Harry Styles sitting in a chair by the mirror, but instead the bouquet of lilies displayed in a vase next to him. However, the girlfriend in me was all heart-eyed and flustered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I heard him ask.

Blinking my eyes, I smiled at him, finally getting a good look at him. Weak knees. Heart palpitations. 9-1-1, people. How did I get so freaking lucky, as my new stranger friend would have said.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I beamed.

“Well, mission accomplished,” he chuckled.

With the grace of a gazelle, Harry rose from his chair to stand in front of me. I’d almost forgotten how tall he was. Man, it had been too long.

“Truth is…” I cleared my throat. “I missed you.”

Harry said nothing, merely nodded, his eyes glowing as they seemed to memorize every curve of my face.

“And um…” I continued as he suddenly touched my arms, his hands cupping my elbows.

I momentarily lost my train of thought as Harry lowered his head and began to breathe on my neck. I felt goosebumps all over my flesh in an instant, and I instinctively lifted my hands to touch his chest.

“There’s an and?” he said low into my ear.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “But it’s not important.”

“Of course it is. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

He lifted his head again to look straight into my eyes.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I just...didn’t want to lose our connection,” I confessed. “I think we have something great. And I hope you do, too.”

Harry nodded, a soft smile on his lips. “I do.”

“I admit, it’s hard being apart from you,” I added, looking down at my hands that had somehow landed on either side of his butterfly tattoo. “But I’d be an idiot if I didn’t let you know how I feel.”

Harry pulled me to him then, and I felt him sigh.

“And how do you feel?” he asked.

“I just said.”

Harry laughed. “No, you didn’t.”

“I feel...emotional,” I side-stepped.

“That’s a bit redundant, darling.”

I bit my lip. He was gonna make me say it, wasn’t he? As much as I was a word nerd, that was one word I couldn’t just blurt out. Even though I definitely felt it. It just wasn’t easy for me.

“Well, how do you think I feel, Harry?  I mean, I just flew out here from L.A. to surprise you.”

“Oh, I dunno,” he teased. “Could’ve been for another reason, and I just happened to be here…”

“Harry!”

He threw his head back laughing before kissing me on the forehead. Then the nose. Then the mouth. The kiss deepened, and for a minute I thought perhaps his inquiring was over and we were just lost in each other. Then he stopped suddenly and whispered against my lips.

“I love you, too, Lily.”

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[amywritesthings]

SILVER UNDERGROUND / deleted scene 04.

levi's pov #2. :: a deleted scene from flashback two. this is levi's pov of recruiting james to the gang.

happy silver underground friday! thank you for your patience as i write up ch20. i know many of you requested more levi pov content, so i give to you the initial recruitment (levi's version). this is unedited. 3.5k words / mentions of violence, angst, language, pining. :: please remember: this is additional deleted content, not tied to the current canon of the story.

Three years pass and she still won’t leave his goddamn brain.

The girl with the stale bread.

The girl with the kindness that’ll get her killed down here.

Maybe you're not even that kind — he’s seen how ferociously you take down kids double your size when he’s passing by with Furlan, keeping tabs that you’re still breathing week to week.

Not long after the one and only fight he’s had with you, Kenny disappeared. The son of bitch gave some shitty excuse — something about teaching him all he could — leaving Levi Ackerman in a deathly quiet room for the second time in his life.

Just happened to be alone this time, that’s all.

He almost came to you then, but thought better of it. Getting mixed up in that bitch’s affairs, the one you call Mother, wouldn’t do him any favors.

Maybe she’d up and ditch you the way Kenny ditched him.

Maybe fate would have it—

No.

Dreaming’s a waste of time.

He should keep his distance.

He should never try to speak to you—

“Hello?” 

Furlan waves a hand in front of his face, waking Levi from a dissociative state. His steel gray eyes flicker up to the other boy, expressionless.

“I’m listening,” he curtly replies.

“No you weren’t,” Furlan mumbles, before flopping down into a rickety wooden chair.

This house isn’t much, but it’s home. Better than living on the streets, that’s for damn sure. Somehow him and this kid made enough money to get by and then some — but that’s probably because they’ve found the literal Underground City jackpot.

Two idiot MPs from the surface.

Two sets of Omni-directional Mobility Gear.

(The steal would be much easier than others think. Making the story sound impossible meant other thugs in the area wouldn’t ever try their hand at it.)

Crime’s a hell of a lot easier when you can fly.

Only problem now is that the jobs — and subsequently the money — are harder to come by. Furlan’s insistent on expanding. Levi has no interest in banking on trust beyond Furlan.

Until that idea hit him like a static shock—

All when he realized you were still fighting.

Still, after all these years.

“If you’re still trying to convince me,” Levi boredly starts, “then I might have a name to throw in the ring.”

Furlan perks in his chair, scooting closer. “Well, damn, you coulda said it earlier.”

“I just think you won’t like who I suggest.”

“Huh? Why? One of our guys—”

“No,” Levi cuts off. “Not one of the shitheads we split scraps with. I’m talking about a third.”

“A third… in command?” Furlan slowly inquires. Levi nods once. “So who is it?”

“A girl I knew once,” the dark-haired boy suggests, arms crossed over her chest. When Furlan squints, he continues. “She’s in the fighting rings. Goes by James.”

“She’s a kid?”

“No. Knew her when she was, but now she’s in the adult circuits.”

“So how old is she?”

“Maybe fifteen? Fourteen?” Levi supplies. “Our age.”

“Huh.” Furlan pauses. “And you… think she’d be good? Like how good?’

“Probably the best option we have.”

“Levi Ackerman talking highly about someone else… now that doesn’t happen every day.”

Levi squints in annoyance. 

“Are you cool with me asking her, or not?”

Furlan makes a face. “Well— here’s the thing. If we just add her, chances are the guys we kinda fumble the numbers with will get jealous. We’d probably need to initiate her.”

Levi doesn’t mean to, but he glares right back. Furlan must realize right away that his partner is a fan of the idea — a reaction he’s never offered.

“Five people aren’t jumping her, Furlan,” Levi insists in a bite.

“I— three?”

Three.

He’s seen you take down people double your size and weight. He’s watched you put popular contenders on their backs in seconds. The kids they hire are just that — kids. 

As much as he doesn’t want to agree to it, there has to be a compromise.

You can handle five.

You can certainly handle three.

“Fine,” Levi murmurs. “Three. She has a fight tomorrow.”

“Damn, you’ve been scouting this one?”

Something like that.

.

.

.

.

.

And just as he suspected, you knock them square on their asses.

Truth be told, it’s an unfair fight.

Levi stakes his claim at the corner, in the shadows, and watches the beat down in real time. All goons looking to show off like they know what the hell they’re up against.

They don’t.

Levi does.

When you scramble down the alleyway to get to safety, he takes off into a casual stroll. Taps an unconscious moron or two in the head to make sure they’re seriously out.

(They’re out, alright. Like a snuffed light.)

And when Levi finally catches up to you, you’re swallowed whole by shadow. Your hands are assessing each part of your torso — smart — while your breath exits in a controlled wheeze.

He’s sorry.

He really is, for once.

“You look like shit,” he comments, watching you rip your gaze from your scratched hands towards his voice.

Like a feral, scared animal you watch him.

Blinking once. 

Blinking twice, three times, as if you’re trying to figure out who the hell he is.

Levi knows it’s not from the injuries. You were smart and protected your head as much as possible. He was banking on quick precision from your technique.

“Mind your fucking business,” you snap back at him, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from smiling ear to ear.

(So that’s what you sound like.)

“How bad did they get you?” he casually asks, stepping forward with a boot.

You blink several times once again.

Yeah, you recognize him.

Just like he recognizes you.

“Why do you care?” you hiss, pushing away from the brick wall.

Levi stops moving to give you space. “I don’t.”

(But, fuck, he does. He really does.)

Breathe through the pain all you want, he catches the way you wrap your arm around your abdomen as if he’s going to try and take you on at your weakest.

Maybe those bastards did get a good hit or two in.

“I guess the answer is bad enough.”

“Fuck off.”

“Sure.”

Except he doesn’t want to.

If you let him, then he’ll stay.

“You can leave, you know,” you tell him, and he draws in a slow inhale. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine so long as those shitheads don’t get up.”

Your head whips behind you to see the alley as if Levi’s spotted anyone. 

No, they’re not actually coming. 

In fact, you knocked them out so thoroughly that it’s a little bit funny.

Then you turn, and his stomach clenches. “I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

“I get that a—”

“Whoa.”

His heart seizes when you stumble. Immediately he shoots to the other end of the wall, ignoring the hand that shoots out to stop him.

“Hold on. What the hell are you doing?” Your nostrils flare. “I said I’m fine.”

Damn it, James. Don’t be proud right now.

“Yeah, and I”m six-foot fucking three.”

And he steps closer.

Closer.

Until the expanse of his chest hovers right at your palm.

Well — you aren’t trying to beat the shit out of him. That’s a plus.

You really do remember me, that sad sack of shit you were nice to.

“Roxy’s is close,” Levi slowly states, hoping you’ll connect what he’s thinking about. That you’ll get to where he’s trying to go with this before he has to spell it out.

“I know.”

“They have back rooms with supplies.”

“I know.”

“So why not go?” he grunts, very much over the bravado he’s very much guilty of himself. “C’mon, dumbass.”

You squeak, but it’s too late — Levi breaks that illusion of distance with a smack of your outstretched hand so he can get to the part he’s been agonizing over all day.

Helping you.

Because he sure as hell isn’t going to let you go through this alone.

(Not when he’s practiced this pitch for a week straight.)

You don’t push him away when he touches you. Hell, you just stare — Levi’s worried he has something in his goddamn teeth.

Then you ask. “Why?”

Surely you know.

Surely by now, you must know the why of this.

Because I owe you.

Because you have left my fucking brain since the day you asked my name.

Levi answers. “Because.”

Cautious with every step, Levi lets you call the pace. You’re surprisingly mobile all things considered, and he just acts as your anchor as you make your way through the winding rounds of the Underground City.

“You have a key?”

He has to force himself not to snort. “No.”

The staff at Roxy’s will forgive him.

Or not — he doesn’t give a shit.

Gingerly placing you against the wall, he musters up the energy to use the strength of his short but mighty legs. Levi kicks the wooden door with gusto, waiting a moment for the noise to dissipate, before grabbing you again to continue on.

Eventually he places you on a nearby chair and brushes off his hands, coated with sweat.

What the hell, Ackerman? Get your shit together. Now’s not the time to get nervous.

Especially over you.

God, not when he’s almost got you.

You’re too busy staring at the disjointed door to notice his expression soften when he’s staring at your face.

It’s so… pretty.

Why is it—

Wait.

“Oi.”

He snaps, and you blink and turn your chin back to him. All the air whooshes clear from his lungs. 

You’re worried. He can tell. 

“Eyes on me. They aren’t coming.”

“What makes you so sure?”

(God, he’s such an asshole.)

Choosing to ignore the question, Levi keeps himself busy by searching the cabinets in the room for the med packs he knows they keep here. Way too many wayward souls pass through. They always got some—

Ah.

There.

Turning on a heel, he eagerly brings the med kit and unfurls it, holding it to you.

You stare back, not moving.

(You don’t have a concussion, do you?!)

“What do you want me to—”

“Hold it, idiot,” he snips in his own minor panic. “I can’t do everything.”

Please let me fix my own mistakes, James.

Your hands uncurl like a clam, waiting for the med kit. Levi carefully places it in your hands and takes what he needs.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur. “Why are you doing this?”

Taking a cloth, he douses it with antiseptic and presses it ever so gently on your skin. 

You don’t even flinch.

“Levi.”

Time freezes.

His gray eyes meet yours, and suddenly he forgets to breathe.

You remember.

He never told you, but —

He’s pretty sure Kenny may have said it back at this godforsaken fucking bar.

Should he tell you he remembers you, too?

(You never told him your name. He’ll show all of his cards in one fell swoop.)

“Does it matter?” he gruffly responds, pressing the cloth to your cheek.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s harder to help than to ignore.”

“Kind of like giving bread to a strange kid, right?” 

Shit.

Levi blurts before he can take it back.

This wasn’t how he thought this would go.

Banter here and there, maybe, but—

“I don’t know,” you finally answer. “I’m not a saint for giving you food.”

Of course you’re not.

Saint James, the patron deity that hasn’t left his mind since.

Levi’s nostrils flare as he dips lower, too afraid to touch your torso. “I could have killed you — broken?”

“Bruised,” you reply. “I’ve felt broken before.”

“Positive?” 

“Yes. And I was trying to kill you back then, too. It wasn’t our fault.”

Were you?

Trying to kill him?

Makes sense, with how hard you went at him. It was the only match he felt nervous in.

“I wasn’t trying to,” Levi woefully answers.

“But you could have.”

His fingers pause for a fraction of a second. “Yeah,” he laments. “I could have.”

Just like tonight.

And just like every night after this, if you tell him yes to his bullshit plans.

“I thought maybe something happened to you,” you begin. “I never saw you on the circuit again, so I thought—”

“That was the first and only time I fought in that nasty shit.”

He pushes back his own fears and tips your chin upward. You easily obey.

“...so you weren't sold into it?”

Shit, was she? Too preoccupied by the feeling of how soft your skin is, Levi shakes his head.

“I was your only fight?”

“Technically,” he says.

“So then why were you—”

“Practice, in case I ever met someone who needed to kill me for quick cash.”

“That's a morbid reason. You were just a kid.”

“So were you, but for some reason you’re still in it.”

Gritting his teeth, he knows his temper is getting the best of him. It’s better to stay neutral in these types of talks but you… you’re so nonchalant about something so dire.

You could die.

Hell, he’s spent week after week hoping to hear your name so he’d hear you’re still alive.

Choosing to let that go, he drops his hands away from your face and flexes his fingers.

“Good news: you look like shit, but you’re not in deep shit. I can’t do anything about your ribs, but your face should be fine. You have a bad habit of leaning into your hits.”

It’s true. It’s like she likes getting hurt, as if it fuels her own rage.

A strategy, sure, but a shit one at that.

“Excuse me?” you growl. “What do you mean, I have a bad habit?”

Levi can’t help but give you a look. “Did those shitheads make you hard of hearing, too?”

“No, shithead," you mock right back and it’s actually… impressive. You keep up. It does something weird and unenjoyable to his stomach. “I don't lean into them."

“Yes, you do.”

“What, so you’ve watched my fights?”

Ah, shit.

Found out, yet again.

(Great job, Ackerman.)

“I watch fights. Not just yours,” Levi quickly retorts. “You're not special, so get your head out of your ass.”

“Oh fuck you, man.”

Damn, you really do speak his language.

Don’t smile, don’t smile, don’t—

And you don’t give up, either. “Leaning into them makes an opponent feel like they have the upper hand. Let them hit, then you strike.”

“It’s a shit strategy.”

“I’m smaller than a lot of my opponents.”

“So?"

“So? Coming out to a fight like you own the place puts a target on your back.”

Right.

Self-preservation, a tactic often used by the pimps who bring these poor kids to the rings. It’s a loophole to make sure your fighters don’t know their own worth so they can’t wail on you.

Kenny told him that.

Levi wishes he could have told her, too.

“Did your Mom teach you that?” he flatly responds.

Your nostrils flare. “Maybe she did, but your Dad sure as hell forgot to teach you manners.”

He snaps faster than he means to. “He wasn’t my father.” 

A beat passes, and his shoulders slump. 

“And you’re a better fighter than that,” he softens, exasperated. “Making yourself look weak is a shitty strategy for someone who can't land a punch, let alone someone who can. You take the punches because you damn well know you're better than every opponent they match you with. If you didn’t play the theatrics, then those idiots would all be dead in minutes.”

When you don’t spit in his face, he gently takes a step forward. Then another.

“I met you three years ago. I thought by now you would've found a way out." 

But you need help. 

This is his return payment. This is all he can offer in this shitstain of a city.

“Do you want out?” Your eyes widen, like he’s told you he’s secretly the king of the Walls. His tongue gently darts between his dried lips. “...if I had a way to get you out, would you take it?”

“...I don’t have a way out.”

“You do.”

“I don’t,” you croak, and it breaks his heart. “I’ve tried. You know people in the circuits—”

“You have a way out."

“Levi—”

“James.”

In defeat, he calls to you — your name, that name everyone else calls you.

All of his cards are on the table.

He can’t take this back. 

“This isn’t a charity hand out. We need a fighter.”

“Who the hell is we?”

“Furlan Church and myself.”

“Furlan fucking Church? That’s where you ended up after all this time, with that idiot?”

Levi blinks.

(Wait, what’s wrong with Furlan?)

Nevermind — he’ll ask later. He has a mission here.

“If you stay in the circuits, then you will die,” Levi finally states. “That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years. Do you really want her to win?”

Please say no.

Please listen to me.

Except you stagger backwards, and he’s terrified that somehow he’s botched this pitch. That somehow you wouldn’t be interested in a team—

“Wait — did you send those guys after me?”

Oh.

Shit.

“The three in the alleyway,” you continue. “They attacked me after the fight. It was really convenient of you to find me in the nick of time. So was that one of his initiation stunts?”

He wants to swear he was going to tell you, but that would sound like a cheap lie.

He wants to promise this wasn’t what he wanted, but that would sound like a patronizing lie.

“Dirty trick,” you growl and turn away, and worries seizes his heart.

“We need muscle for our next heist,” he quickly states, firming up his voice. “You would get a cut. You would have a permanent place to sleep. You would have routine meals, day and night."

You don’t turn to him. “I’d be selling myself for one contract to another.”

Levi shakes his head wildly, but you don’t see it. “You're free to leave whenever you want. If this doesn't work out in a week? Fine, then you can go. But if you do this, then you would never have to see that woman’s face again.”

“She’d find me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he swears.

No, he wants to say. I’ll burn this city to the ground if she so much as tries it. I owe you.

“You would be protected with me.” 

But it isn’t just him.

You had a visceral reaction about Furlan. He has to be honest.

"With us."

Finally you turn back to him, and he’s woefully hopeful once more.

“Levi…”

The way you say his name…

Shit, he could hear you say his name like that every hour of every goddamn day if you’d just say yes to this deal he’s offering.

"You'll be paid,” he adds.

"I don't give a shit about pay,” you retort. “I have no money to my name as it is. Your... proposition just sounds too good to be true, that's all."

He needs more incentive.

He needs you to say yes.

"What do you need to be convinced?” he pleads, but it comes out monotone. “We sent our three best brawn and you cleared them in minutes. You can see why we'd want you."

"And if I say no?"

Fear seizes every cell of his body. You stare at him like he’s the enemy.

“Are you two going to keep sending people after me?”

(Would he finally stop searching for you?)

Swallowing, Levi knows he cannot keep you.

He barely knows you.

He just has a feeling he needs to.

“No,” he promises. “I'd let you live your life. This isn't an intimidation tactic. You would never hear from me again.”

And he means it.

He’ll give you anything for nothing.

It’s some kind of sickness he hasn’t quite recovered from since he was small.

Something about you has just infected his veins faster than the plague.

You turn your gaze to the door, and his face falls.

What can he do?

How can he convince you?

Your name exits his mouth in a fractured plea. “James—”

“I’m in.” 

Wait.

Did he hear that right?

You turn back to him with determination, chin lifted and shoulders squared. 

He can’t help but stare at you with a mixture of relief and admiration. 

Levi wonders if you notice. If you know, just how much you’ve been on his mind.

“I’m in,” you repeat. “I’ll go where you go.”

(And we'll never look back.)

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Six | Where it all started…

After the holidays we purchased our first home in the same town as his mom and dad but we didn’t have to be quiet in our place. Our empty new house was going to be a project but one I loved. Dom had to go back on the road, pretending to date Rhea and traveling most of the time. It wasn’t going to be easy and it was going to put our pregnancy journey on hold.

Lifting me up I sat on the kitchen island with Dom between my legs. “I’m gonna miss you, mi amore. Fuck, it was never this hard.”

“You’ll have Rhea,” I quipped. It was still a sore spot for me. WWE was pushing their relationship and behind the scenes like they were really dating. It was unheard of and only getting worse.

“Shut up. That’s work, friendship.”

My hands snuck under his shirt, working their way up his chest. “Sometimes it’s too far, Dom. Like when you touch her and she touches you.”

“No one is touching me like this. No one will. You gonna make beg on the last night I’m home?” He purred into my neck when my fingers traced back down to his gym shorts. 

“Maybe a little.”

“Come on baby, you know you want papi to make you come. What do you want, mi amore? You want me to fuck you right here? You want me to lick that pussy? Fuck.” He whispered all the ways he could have me and it sent me down a rabbit hole. My pussy ached for him more than normal.

“What do you think of when you touch yourself?” Pushing his shorts down I wanted this to last.

His mouth found mine and our tongues danced. “Being inside you, baby. That’s all it takes.”

Reaching down between us I felt how hard he was already. “I got my tripod out if you want to record it. For the road.”

His mouth smiled on top of mine, “Fuck yes.”

Dom fucked my tight little pussy on the kitchen island while I captured all the right shots for him. I didn’t want him to have any reason to cheat. I had heard the horror stories enough and his faux relationship was enough. I wanted Dom to have a piece of us on the road with him.

We had sex three times that night before Dom left for the airport in the morning. We even had sex in the shower before he left. He was about to be surrounded with beautiful women and every temptation. “Just promise you’ll call, Dominik, if you feel tempted.”

“I finally got you, I’m not fucking that up. I’ll text you when I land. I love you.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

It had been three months since Dom left and I had been busy filling our house with furniture. I had been so busy I didn’t realize I hadn’t gotten my period. 

I had extra tests for when we really started trying. I’d didn’t expect to need one this soon but something felt off. Peeing on the stick I waited the few minutes before it turned positive. In shock I ok a few more and they all turned positive.

I had been watching Dom on TV every week, we’d talk on the phone every night and I would curse WWE for making their fake relationship seem real. Online there were countless extras of them making it seem valid. My favorite is Rhea and Dom answering what are their favorite thing to do together is when Rhea answered for them: fucking.

It was Monday and that meant live TV, Monday Night Raw. Flicking the TV on I watched, looking for any clues to where Dom was before I texted him that we needed to talk.

Dom called me immediately and pushed the phone speaker.

Dom: What’s wrong? I got like 15 mins before I go out.

Me: I need to come visit. 

Dom: Don’t do this baby. Don’t call it quits. I’ll be home next week for a few days. 

Me: It’s not that, Dom. I don’t wanna do this over the phone. Just let me know when I can come. I’ll be watching tonight, call me when you get to the hotel.

Dom let the line go silent and I knew he was thinking the worst.

I sent him a good luck text and parked myself in front of the TV that was just set up earlier in the day. Pulling a blanket over my lap I cuddled into the plush couch and placed my hand over my stomach.

That’s your daddy coming on next. I know it’s silly but daddy is silly sometimes.

Dom didn’t even text me the details when my email contained a round trip ticket to his next show. I knew he was spiraling and I should relieve him of his misery but it made my news even sweeter. Packing a small bag I asked his mom to drop me off at the airport for my red eye flight. Without argument she agreed. The flight was smooth and the middle of America was full of winter. Ice and snow clung to every surface still.

Security was a problem when I tried to advocate for myself when Randy Orton walked away. Him greeting me and ushering me in was enough for them when they stepped aside.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to break my immaculate pregnancy to my boyfriend. Do you know where he is?” 

Randy laughed as I followed his lead. “Probably asleep. I don’t even think he’s shown his face yet. Want a lift to the hotel? I’m headed back.”

Agreeing I shook my head and Randy took my weekender bag from me. “Let me text him in case.”

I sent yet another text message that he hadn’t responded to when a car pulled up to the entrance and the crowd outside shouted you suck. Something told me to look up when Dom pushed a small suitcase alongside him. “Dom,” I shouted trying to get his attention when he finally spotted me.

Grabbing my bag from Randy I thanked him when Dom got threateningly close to Randy. “I don’t give a shit what happens between us; if you touch her I’ll fucking kill you.”

Randy threw his hands up and backed away. “She’s all yours, bro.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked him wondering what pissed him off before that. 

“Had to come in person to break things off? Give me some speech about how we’re better off friends?” He walked away and I was forced to follow him.

“Dom. Can we talk privately?” 

Still walking away I had to catch up to his long legs. “Just fucking say it. You regret it. I’m a big boy and I can handle it.”

I stopped walking, dropping my bag to the floor and rolled my eyes. “Dominik Gutierrez. I’m pregnant.”

Stopping dead in his tracks he twisted around and stared at me like I might be joking. “Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now?”

“I didn’t want our story to include telling you over text message. I’m pregnant.” Rushing towards me he picked me up into his arms and spun me around. 

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 4)

As I’ve mentioned when I had first started writing this, this piece is meant to be gloomy. So, I give you the fearplay chapter. I’m so sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy! (I have no idea how to feel about this scene-) Also, I get to put my three years of spanish classes to use :D (Translations are included)

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: Anxiety, panic attacks, slight gore mentioned

4-Liam 

A week can pass by quickly. 

Cas and I have been slowly getting to know each other a little more. Not a whole lot since some topics were a little too hard for him to talk about. Classes at college were getting even more tiring, and before I could ask to take the classes online it turns out that they had already handled it when I brought up the subject. So, now I was practically staying at Cas’s house almost all of the time. Although it isn’t too bad, I’ve noticed something about his behavior. He likes to stay close by me. 

It’s not a bad thing, I’m not complaining at all, it’s just that it’s nerve wracking whenever he asks if I’m okay with him sitting near me. I’m not used to him all that much. I know most people are fine with being around shifters but of course I’ve believed all my life that most shifters were scary, intimidating even. It’ll just take some time to get used to living with one I guess. After all, I was supposed to be a therapist. 

Today I was just writing some notes while Cas sat on the floor, a bright smile on his face as he looked at his phone. I was about to ask what that was about, but then I remembered him telling me something about seeing his parents sometimes this week. Was that today? If it was I should probably get ready. The only thing I knew was that I was required to be there the entire time. They didn’t tell me what was going to happen, how long it would be, but I’m sure Cas would tell me on our way there. 

I shut my computer closed, placing my notebook on top of it before shoving it into my bag and glancing over at Cas. He seemed excited to meet with his parents. I would be too if I had been separated for however long. Then again I live in an entire different city than my parents. They do like calling every once in a while though. I don’t think they let Cas have his own parents phone number. 

“Excited?” I mumbled, walking a little bit closer. I’m pretty sure we’ll have to leave soon. It was already noon and I was mainly waiting on a text or a call that explains that his parents were ready to see him. For some reason he’s not allowed to go in early which I find is kind of irrational, but I can’t just go against them. Heck, I wasn’t even supposed to be part of this organization. 

“Mhm. Last time we were only allowed an hour to talk.” He smiled sadly at me, still looking positive about today’s outcome. I do hope he gets to see them today. I think he needs this. But I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as excited to see their parents as Cas was. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but how old are you?” I asked, looking up curiously. He can’t be more than three years younger than me. He doesn’t go to school, and I doubt he’s any older than myself. 

“Eighteen. I know, I act like a child.” He chuckled, messing with his hands. Nervous? I don’t really think I could do anything about that. Actually, for someone who has depression and struggles with emotions, he doesn’t lose control a whole lot. Only ever twice has he in front of me, minus the times where he starts growing a couple feet from either watching someone thing or thinking about something. I try my hardest to shut it down before anything bad could happen. Last time I freaked out and couldn’t do anything useful to help him. 

“I don’t think you act like a child.” I laughed, hearing my phone go off. I hurried to pick it up, seeing Cas quite literally beam with a shocked smile. I told them we’d be right there, and then carefully climbed into his hands. Today would be a good day. I don’t know why I get the feeling something bad will happen. It’s just the way they had sounded on the phone… 

——————

The building looked relatively normal on the outside, with a fancy look that had screamed “We’re rich,” there were different sized doors, but what caught me off guard was that there was an entire security system right at the front that makes sure you’r not bringing a weapon. Cas set me down near the human-sized doors, telling me to just do what they say and we’ll eventually meet up again. It’s kind of awkward taking instructions from someone younger than me, but he’s been here for much, much longer. 

I went through security, answered a few questions, like who I was with, how long I would prefer the visit time be, mostly questions about Cas if I were being honest. Was this why he was only allowed a singular hour to talk last time? Because he had someone else? I don’t really mind spending a few hours here. What could go wrong? I answered as long as Cas and his parents were going to be here. I’d feel bad if I set a time limit. Plus, I’m sure his parents would love to spend some more time with him. 

Eventually they lead me to a huge waiting room, where I was guessing I would be able to keep an eye on Cas. I was I trusted to stay in there in case something goes wrong, but I sincerely doubt it. What was there to be upset about in the first place? I think everything would be fine. I was just staying on the sidelines anyways. Maybe meet his parents, talk for a while. Heck, maybe I’ll even get to know a little more about him. Cas doesn’t answer some questions I have. All for good reason I hope, it’s not like I was going to force it out of him anyways. That would just be plain wrong. 

Out side of the room, Cas had walked in, standing up near the platform I was guessing they’d be at. Weren’t they supposed to take me up there too? A woman wearing a suit walked into my holding room, taking a seat right next to me, “Kayla Cruz. I was Casper’s old therapist.” She giggled, holding her hand out. Oh? What was she doing here then? Why was she replaced by me of all people? She certainly looked like she was more trained for this job than I was. Something wasn’t right here. 

“Oh, um, Liam Rover. It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled, shaking her offered hand and watching as Three people wearing a guard outfit instructed Cas about something to which he nodded to. Wasn’t I supposed to be up there? I think I know which way to go to get up to him. I guess I can wait an extra couple of minutes. I have no idea why, but I had a bad feeling about everything. Maybe I could ask Ryan later? I know the person he was placed with is a shifter who can only reduce their size, was this really any different? I’d have to ask. 

The woman next to me watched, a frown on her face as she looked at Cas, a worried look on his face. His eyes darted all around the room, still waiting for when his parents walk through the safety of the doors high above where I was sitting. Was it supposed to take this long? Why was I the one worried? Was it just a feeling? 

Th woman next to me glared at me from the corner of her eye, a smirk appearing on her face, “They told you he was meeting with his parents today?” She leaned back in the seat. I nodded my head, confused. “It’s technically true, but the company has deemed Casper here too mentally unstable to meet with anyone but shifters and his corresponding therapist, which would be you.” 

My heart sank. 

What the hell. This was just wrong! I have to go up there before they do anythi- I stared up at the platform, seeing a singular guard walk in, say something to Cas, have a short conversation that made his eyes grow wide and slide slowly down the metal-looking wall behind him. My eyes darted around the room, searching for a door to go and help him. Of course I was terrified about what they’ve done, mostly the outcome of what’s about to happen, but it’s not like I can just leave him here. I know what they do to shifters who can’t control their emotions. Their either sent off to a special captivity prison, or they… I can’t think about that right now. I am not about to become the reason Cas gets sent to a place like that. I don’t have the heart in me to do so. 

I found a door that looked like it lead to the room, and almost as if they knew I was searching for it, it unlocked. I threw it open, rushing out, my heart beating fast and uncontrollable. My legs were about to give out from underneath me, breath shaky, my mind screaming at me to get the hell out of here. But I don’t. I knew what was about to happen. They weren’t letting Cas see his parents. I heard slight screaming and yelling in another room that sounded like a woman’s and crying from a kid. But I didn’t focus on that right now. I was more worried about the situation in front of me. 

What do I do? Something tells me this isn’t going to be anything like that other time. Cas has always watched how he reacts to things, what he does, but right now he’s not. He’s most definitely depressed, and there was just something else I couldn’t pin point. People do dumb things while they’re upset. They regret it all later, so it would be best if I make sure Cas doesn’t so anything he’ll regret. Because then that’s an entire different problem to deal with after this one. 

“Cas!” I managed to scream at the top of my lungs, knees buckling underneath me, but I force them to keep me standing upright as his gaze falls onto me. I jumped, chest heaving up and down as I struggled to find the words to say. My body was frozen in fear, not even able to move a single limb from it’s place. He winced when his legs uncomfortably hit the wall opposite of him. I didn’t know what to do. It’s almost like… they wanted him to lash out. Why would they want that? Soon enough, guards ran in, yelling orders while one tugged at me to head back inside, but I didn’t move. Instead, I rushed forward, avoiding the somehow careful limbs that were trying to move into a compact position on the floor. 

A guard was running after me, but I guess someone held him back since I was somehow gaining ground when I was running extremely slow and tripping every once in a while. I found Cas’s head, seeing him scrunched up as much as he could manage as of right now. He laid on the ground, arms and hands covering his face and knees up against the chest. He still realizes that he can hurt people. Maybe I can actually do this? Still, the size difference between us is huge. 

Cas wasn’t crying or anything. Just mumbling words I surprisingly couldn’t make out. He didn’t sound angry. Just upset. That makes it easier to deal with. People do horrible things out of anger. And I could only imagine how devastating it would be if Cas wasn’t thoughtful enough to watch himself. 

I found his head, buried underneath his arms and muttering incomprehensible words to himself. He groaned a bit, slightly turning his body to face the wall, moving his arms away from his face to lay them down. I guess he didn’t see that I was so close to him because his arm almost killed me. I quickly jumped out the way just before I would’ve been nothing but a pile of flesh and bones on the ground. My heart skipped a beat, unable to stare at the spot on the ground where I could’ve died. My breathing became a ragged, and the sounds close to me were slightly muffled, but it’s not like anyone was saying anything important to me. 

Cas turned his head, eyes meeting my frozen minuscule frame and gasping. He moved his arm away from me, doing his best to slowly sit up without alarming the multiple guards in the room, along with the weapons they probably have imbedded in the room itself. I could tell he was still upset, but right now I was too focused on the fact that I could have died. That reminded me just how much power Cas had over me. Even if I was the one who was watching over him. 

“L-Liam I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-“ He tried apologizing, voice hitching just before sucked in a sharp breath. My entire body was shaky, but I forced my legs to push me back up and walk over to the towering being. More people had walked in, Cas pressed his back closer to the wall scared. He knew what was going to happen. I knew what was going to happen. I just had to make sure it wasn’t the worst possible outcome of the the two. I don’t think I could handle the guilt that way. 

The week I’ve spent with Cas has been amazing really. Even though sometimes I get a little jumpy from the fast movements, or feel uncomfortable at times when he’s around me, Cas really isn’t bad at all. We’ve hung out for a while, watched movies, played a few games. I think we’re friends? With that thought in mind I’d hate to see them take him to a place he doesn’t even deserve to be in. Of course I was afraid of him still, instincts and all, but I don’t want him to end up being alone. 

I stood up, taking shaky breaths as I tried my hardest to stay upright. Come on I’m not even hurt- I was just terrified. Shocked. A little unstable right now even. If I had tried talking to Cas now he wouldn’t hear me. The distance between my and himself was huge. I looked back up at him, taking deep breaths. He stared worriedly at the people making their way in, looking ready to advance if he tries anything. 

“I’m not scared. I’m totally fine.” I kept muttering to myself. It usually worked when I felt like this. It’s what my dad would keep telling me. Little did he know that I was terrified of everything going on around me right now. 

Cas’s attention turned to me, a hand reaching taking up my vision as I stood frozen in fear. The next the thing I knew I was pinched tightly between two of his fingers, arms pinned to my sides and barely able to move any part of my body. The pressure against my chest increased, threatening to break my ribs. That was the least of my worries. I couldn’t breathe right now. 

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that!” He freaked out, holding me dangerously close to his face. He’s not being his usual careful self, but that was expected when a person was upset. I gasped for air, trying to free my arms from the prison I was in currently, but Cas just kept looking over the the people on the ground that was far, far below me and muttering words in a language I couldn’t hear. 

My heart was racing fast as my lungs had begged me for air. I managed to free one of my arms, and I forced my voice to work for once, “Cas!” 

“…Lo siento. Lo siento mucho. Estoy arruinando todo...” (*Translation: I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I’m ruining everything…*)He kept on muttering over and over again, and it just makes me wish I had paid attention to my spanish classes in high school. Something about him being sorry? I think have much, much bigger problems at hand though. 

Cas shifted me in his literal death grip, allowing me to breathe, but he was pressing down harder, and a sharp pain erupted from my leg, but I was fueled by the adrenaline. 

“Cas!” I screamed again, trying to pull myself out of his grip. His eyes darted to me, wide and shocked. It took him a moment to realize, but he let go, laying me down in his open palm, running a hand through his hair. I coughed for air, wincing when I checked out the leg that felt like it was on fire. Most likely broken, but nothing I couldn’t handle. It was fine though. I know he didn’t mean to. But still, my fear never wavered at the fact that he could quite literally kill me by not even trying to. 

“¿Estás bien? I-I didn’t mean to-“ I nodded my head, biting down hard on the bottom of my lip. It’s okay, you know him good enough to know that he wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. I had to remind myself before gathering up my remaining courage to actually do my job. 

“Cas, just take a few breaths, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.” I had only hoped he heard over how shaky my voice was. He slowly nodded his head, I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them the ground wouldn’t be so far from me. When I peaked out, the ground was a bit closer, people stood on the ground, frozen in either fear or shock. I calmed my heart down enough to actually get a few more words in. 

“Feeling a little better?” I asked, putting on the best smile I could manage right now. He slightly nodded again, continuing to take slow breaths. 

“What happened?” I asked calmly, genuinely worried about what was said before I rushed in through here. Cas eyes me sadly, wincing, “I won’t… be able to see my parents for a long time.” He whispered, suddenly aware of everything around him again. He moved further into the wall, away from the people below us. 

“And that means?…” He bit the bottom of his lip, “Apparently I’m too unstable to even see my own family.” He sighed, and I could tell he wanted to cry, but he knew what would happen if he gave into those feelings. 

“I-I have a little brother. He loves trying to climb up anything he can,” He started laughing sadly, “You can imagine how much fun he has when he and my parents come for visits.” He sniffled a little, smiling. Oh. Oh. He’s calming down in his own way. 

Why was the world so adamant on having people watch over the “dangerous” shifters? Cas doesn’t need me… and maybe shifters don’t actually need anyone to watch over them. 

“Yeah?” I smiled, laughing with him while he seemed to have calmed down. 

“… I’m sorry, Liam.” He pressed me up agianst the bridge of his nose, this time a lot more gentle. I winced from the sharp pain in my leg, but sucked it up. I think Cas needs this. Even if I was scared he’d accidentally hurt me again. 

Cas let me down, facing the crowd on the ground that had rushed to help me up, limping the entire way until multiple people were talking behind me, rushing into places. I turned back, ignoring the warning from the people helping me. Cas gave a sad smile as the red band on his wrists started blinking, clasping themselves together like magnetic handcuffs. Cas sighed. 

I heard people in another room yelling, even a child’s voice. It’s his parents. I gasped, finding a door to another room I haven’t been in, seeing a guard and a person with a suit and tie in there. Through the small window, I saw a tall man trying to comfort his wife, who sat crying on the bench while the child stared, screaming at the guard to let him see his brother. My heart sank. 

They weren’t going to kill Cas. I knew they wouldn’t. I just hoped I would be allowed to see him in the hospital they’ll be placing him in. This wasn’t right. Not at all. 

——————

Aghhh plot build up my beloved. This chapter leads up to something reallyyy important for later.

Aww all Cas wanted was to see his little brother 🥺

I hope you enjoyed! I have no idea how to feel about this chapter if I’m being honest, but I hope it’s alright TwT work is affecting my writing grahhhh. Thank you for reading though!

The drawing I did for this chapter is right here!

Taglist: @da3dm (If you would like to be added, leave a note or dm me! :D)

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me���

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 10

It was the era of the Polaroid and the beginning of videotape. He was the director and I his star acting out fantasies. We dressed up and undressed, played and wrestled, told stories, acted out our fantasies, and invented scenes. Whether it was dressing up in my school uniform and playing at being a sweet, innocent schoolgirl, or a secretary coming home from work and relaxing in the privacy of her own bedroom, or a teacher seducing her student, we were always inventing new stories, and eventually, I learned what stimulated Matt the most.

Almost every night I made quick trips to the local drugstore to buy considerable amounts of Polaroid film. Some of the cashiers knew me, and I wondered if they suspected what we were doing.

I put on dark glasses to “disguise” myself, but ended up looking even more conspicuous as I’d sweetly request twelve packs of Polaroid film while making excuses like, “Gee, the others must have been defective. I just can’t seem to get them to come out right,” or “You’re not going to believe this, but someone stole my film.”

Making it in and out of Graceland was no easy feat, either. I’d pass Mr. Stall at the gate at odd hours of the night, smiling and waving hello, returning shortly with the same smile and the same wave. I was sure he harbored some suspicious thoughts about what I was doing.

Matt laughed when I told him. “It’s all in your mind. He’s no more thinking anything than a dog sleeping.”

“Well, what if he starts spreading rumors, like I go out at night?”

“It might create some excitement around here. This town’s dead. Boston needs a little gossip!”

Matt and I both loved creating these sexual fantasies and it seemed to bring us closer together. I had no previous sexual experience to compare with his inventive sexuality and I was ready to indulge him any way I could. Being in the fast lane, he was exposed to every pleasure available in life. Ordinary thrills sometimes were not enough, especially when he was under the influence of powerful drugs.

At first I was totally open to Matt and many of his ideas. I lived for those moments we were alone. I was careful to say little that might jeopardize my bond with him. I fulfilled his needs, and his beliefs became mine. Under no circumstances were his ideas or playfulness perverted or in any way harmful.

A few days after he came home, he led me to his long black limousine and we sped off to one of Boston’s most exclusive boutiques on Union Street for some after-hours shopping, just as we’d done in Las Vegas. While the boys milled around the shop and the store’s sales staff tried to look nonchalant, Matt got a big kick out of having me model dozens of stunning dresses and suits and coats that were so stylish I was doubtful I could wear them. I was still an insecure teenager.

“Matt,” I said, wearing a sexy gold lamé gown that clung to my every curve, “these clothes are too sophisticated for me.”

“Sophisticated?” he said, regarding me admiringly. “What’s sophisticated? You could go around wearing a feather and that would be sophisticated.”

“Well, bring me a feather then.”

We spent four hours at that shop and during that time, I had a personalized lesson in the Matt Sturniolo Fashion Course.

As I tried on dress after dress, Matt delivered a running commentary on color. He liked me in red, blue, turquoise, emerald green, and black and white—the same colors he himself wore. He liked solids only, declaring that large prints took away from my looks. “Too distracting,” he said. He hated browns and dark green, colors inextricably associated in his mind with the Army.

Exhausted and a little confused about my new look, I walked out of the shop dressed in a sleek black linen suit with four-inch highheeled shoes to match. With Matt sitting proudly beside me, the guys loaded the trunk of the limo with armfuls of packages, and I felt very special.

Back at Graceland he had me model all my new clothes again for Grandma, who patiently sat through a long two hours of changes. I was Matt’s doll, his own living doll, to fashion as he pleased.

It was the early sixties, when clothes and makeup veered to extremes. Women’s eyeliner was heavier, their hair more teased, and their skirts shorter than ever before. All the rules I’d learned about dressing and applying makeup (less is more, the simpler the better) were being broken, and men seemed to love it. Matt certainly did. If I went a little light with the mascara or black eyeliner, he’d send me back upstairs to apply it more heavily.

Matt liked long hair. When I’d cut mine without asking his permission, he was shocked.

“How could you cut your goddamn hair? You know I like long hair. Men love long hair.”

He wanted it long and jet black, dyed to match his because, as he said, “You have pretty eyes, baby. Black hair will make your eyes stand out more.” He made a lot of sense to me and soon my hair was dyed jet black, like his.

The more we were together the more I came to resemble him in every way. His tastes, his insecurities, his hang-ups—all became mine.

For instance, high collars were his trademark, not because he especially liked them, but because he felt his neck looked too long. He never felt comfortable unless he was in a customized high-collared shirt, though in a pinch he’d turn the collar up on a regular shirt as he had when he was in school.

When he told me that the collar I was wearing on a particular blouse was too small for my “long, skinny neck,” I too began wearing high-collared shirts. Why not? My sole ambition was to please him, to be rewarded with his approval and affection. When he criticized me, I fell to pieces.

The Pygmalion nature of our relationship was a mixed blessing. The most fundamental thing at this stage in our life together was that Matt was my mentor, someone who studied my every gesture, listened critically to my every utterance, and was generous, to a fault, with advice.

When I did something that wasn’t to his liking, I was corrected. It is extremely difficult to relax under such scrutiny. Little escaped him. Little except the most salient fact of allthat I was a volcano about to erupt.

There were evenings when he’d send me back upstairs to change clothes because my choice was “dull,” “unflattering,” or “not dressy enough” for him. Even the way I walked came under review; he told me to move more slowly, and for a short while, he had me walking around the house with a book on my head.

I appreciated his interest, but I hated having to hear him remind me of my shortcomings so many times, and each time having to promise him that he’d never have to tell me again.

Would I ever be able to live up to his vision of how his ideal woman should behave and appear? She had to be sensitive, loving, and extremely understanding, meeting unusual demands any average woman might reject. This included being left behind when he made spur-of-the-moment, questionable “business” trips.

She had to be pretty and she had to possess an offbeat sense of humor to survive all the joking at Graceland. Often I’d walk into Sunday afternoon football gatherings and hear inside jokes about the cute all-American cheerleaders. Eventually I found myself thinking like one of the guys. “Nice tits and ass,” I’d say to myself. “A little heavy in the thighs, but the face makes up for it.”

Matt had a strong aversion to wearing jeans. As a poor boy, he had no choice but to wear them and he never wanted to lay eyes on another pair. That applied to everyone in the group.

His firm ideas on my wardrobe didn’t make it easy for me to go out and buy clothes for myself. One day I came home proud of a dress I’d just bought and couldn’t wait to put on. I knew he didn’t like prints, but this was a blackand-white flowered silk that I thought very special.

The first words out of his mouth when he saw me were: “That dress doesn’t suit you. Does nothing for you. Takes away from your face, your eyes. All you see’s the dress.”

As he tore me apart I started to cry. “Are you quite finished?” I inquired. I didn’t give him a chance to answer, bolting for my bathroom and slamming the door.

A few minutes later I heard his voice from the other side of the door: “You gotta keep away from those large prints. You’re a small girl, Sattnin.”

I opened the bathroom door and snapped, “Okay, I’ll return the fuckin’ dress.”

Matt fell to the floor laughing; eventually I joined in, unable to stop myself. Once again I’d compromised my own taste.

He ignored no aspect of my appearance, including my teeth. He took me to his dentist, told him to clean my teeth and give me a thorough examination. He was to look for probable cavities only and should I need any fillings, they were to be made of white porcelain. To him a mouth loaded with gold or silver was an eyesore.

He was equally fanatical about posture. If I slumped, he’d straighten my back. When I’d look up at him and wrinkle my forehead, he’d smooth it out—or tap it—telling me not to get in that habit. I didn’t like him rapping me, so I learned that one fast.

When we came home from the movies one night, I was getting ready for bed and he was in his office playing the piano. I came in to listen, propping my foot on the bench where he was sitting. He looked down at a small chip in my nail polish and I immediately withdrew my foot from the bench and started making up excuses about why it wasn’t fixed. “I’m going to have my pedicure tomorrow,” I promised.

“Good,” he said, “cause that doesn’t look like my Little Girl’s. You should always keep them looking nice.”

I was leading a double life—a schoolgirl by day, a femme fatale by night. Our evening appearance downstairs usually resembled a grand entrance. Even when our only intention was to have dinner, we always dressed for the occasion. Matt might wear a three-piece suit with a brocade vest and a Stetson hat. Under his coat he always carried a gun. He’d given me a small pearl-handled derringer and I carried it in my bra or tucked it into a holster around my waist. We were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

Matt loved films, and we went to the Memphian almost every night. He was still renting the whole house after regular hours since he couldn’t attend a movie without being mobbed. One of the guys always lined up several films in case Matt didn’t like one of them or decided to see as many as three or four in a row. We usually arrived around midnight, our limousine pulling around to the back of the Memphian. From there we’d proceed into the side door like a royal couple leading their court.

Already seated in the theater were the usual crowd of thirty to fifty local friends and fans. Matt always sat in the same seat—with Nate Doe to his right, me to his left.

Before calling “Roll ’em!” he looked around the theater to make sure everyone was seated. He was an acutely aware person and could immediately spot any unwanted or unfamiliar faces. If any new faces were sitting too close to him, Matt suggested they move elsewhere. He was more lenient with the girls. He might not demand they move but he certainly wanted to know who they were, and should they object to being asked for this information or smart off in any way, he would not hesitate to have one of the boys escort them out, telling them never to come back.

There were times Matt rented the entire Boston Fairgrounds after closing and we all  spent hours on our favorite rides. We tried such daredevil feats on the roller-coaster as seeing who could stand the longest with both arms outstretched as it whipped and twisted around the track again and again.

Matt loved the bumper cars and would team up with the entourage against some locals. They’d spend the night seemingly trying to kill each other, laughing and bruising themselves like tough little boys while we girls watched and cheered them on. After several hours my own enthusiasm waned.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - hope u enjoyed this chapter!!🎀

[judasofsuburbia]

for good || argyle week day one: missing scenes

rating: teen and up || pairing: argyle and jonathan || word count: 1113

day one of @argyledaily 's argyle week: missing scenes

"Has anyone seen Argyle?" Jonathan asks. They're still coming down from El going into Vecna's mindfuck palace via the Surfer Boy pizza dough freezer. Mike and Will are holding El on the floor and the general chaos has died down but everyone is still a little shaken. 

“He's in the van smoking I think,” Mike responds with the indifference that Jonathan has become accustomed to. Even amongst the draining atmosphere that was the last few hours of their lives, Mike can still find a way to be a little shit. 

Jonathan rolls his eyes and pushes open the front door of the Surfer Boy Pizza. Sure enough, the van doors are propped open. But Jonathan doesn't see any smoke.

Jonathan calls out for Argyle and hears a muttered, “In here.”

When Jonathan appears on the other side of the open van doors, Argyle is curled into himself. His chin is resting on his knees, his long hair making a curtain of sorts around his face, and his eyes are streaming with tears. He looks up at Jonathan, absolutely defeated, and Jonathan’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Dude,” Jonathan breathes, coming to sit next to Argyle. His arms hover for a minute before deciding that yes, they should be put around Argyle at this moment, and he does just that.

Jonathan holds him for a few silent minutes, the only noise being Argyle’s sniffles. He’s never held Argyle like this, not seriously. Argyle will throw an arm around him sometimes, leading him to whatever shenanigans they have going on. It’s always playful and is dropped a minute later. This is much, much different.

Argyle’s knees drop down and Jonathan goes to move his arms off but then Argyle is tucking his head into Jonathan’s shoulder and oh, okay, comforting is still going. Argyle's had a few freak outs the last few days, rightfully so, but usually a blunt brought him down to a more mellow place, for better or for worse.

That's not what he needs right now though.

Jonathan starts to rub his arms up and down Argyle’s and Argyle’s breathing starts to become steady again so it must be helping. 

“She does that a lot?” Argyle croaks.

“El?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh,” Jonathan inhales to buy himself some time. “Not since we moved, no.”

Argyle hums and whispers, “Scary.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees softly.

“Is that why you moved?” Argyle asks.

Jonathan could spin this. Openly lie like the NDAs would tell him to do. But god damn it, the last few days have already rendered those documents useless. Argyle’s seen it. Not all of it, but a damn lot of it. Too much of it. Literally just helped them get El in between worlds like that. 

Jonathan’s never been a great liar anyway.

“Yeah,” Jonathan answers. “Hawkins, where we were, kinda the cesspool of all those bad things. We thought we’d get away…maybe it would die down. Go away for good.”

Argyle moves his head so it’s off of Jonathan’s shoulder and looks at him seriously. Jonathan once again feels the need to let go but Argyle’s hand stops him. His strong fingers wrap around Jonathan's.

“Why is it her? She’s so…small. Young. Will, too. Fuck, they all are. Hell, we are! They’re so small, why are they fighting this? Why are you fighting this…thing?” Argyle bursts out in a frantic ramble, his voice desperate and strained. Jonathan flinches and Argyle’s shoulders drop. “Sorry, just…that’s fucked.”

“You’re right,” Jonathan says with a shaky exhale. “It is totally fucked. No one in Hawkins would listen to us. El, she…she came from the people responsible. Or at least, the people that knew about it and interacted with it. They…trained her for it. Knew she was special and exploited her. She escaped then Will got caught up in it a few years back. The…thing. It kidnapped him. El saved him. And kept saving everything over and over again‒”

Argyle’s eyes look so, so sorrowful that Jonathan stops talking. He’s never had to explain this to anyone else before. All the people in his life know about this. Witnessed it firsthand. He knows that it’s fucked but he’s never had to drag someone else into it. 

But Argyle's witnessed a lot in the last few days. Way more than he ever should have had to. Jonathan opens his mouth to apologize but then--

“You’re so brave, my man,” Argyle breathes.

Jonathan freezes. His body feels too warm, his skin itching to get off of his bones. The moment feels too intimate. Yet, he fights his instincts to pull away. Something in his brain tells him this moment is too important.

“I‒” Jonathan’s tongue feels too big for his mouth, “I mean‒you. You-- you're brave. You like... helped us. You could’ve kicked us to the curb days ago.”

“Nah man,” Argyle interrupts, a little stern. “You needed help. I’ll always help you.”

Jonathan sighs with a soft smile and Argyle’s fingernails trace circles into his palm. It sends a shiver up Jonathan’s arm. He doesn’t fight it.

“Is that where your mom is? Down where El‒”

“No,” Jonathan cuts him off to help shake the mental image that started to form. “I don’t where she is. I don’t think it’s Alaska,” Jonathan’s laugh is pitiful. 

“Why would she just leave?” Argyle asks.

Jonathan shrugs and his eyes sting with tears. “I don’t…I don’t know. I wish she hadn’t.”

Argyle wraps his arms around Jonathan’s torso and pulls him in for a hug. Jonathan starts to cry into his hair. Argyle cries again too. Jonathan's never cried in front of him before.

It feels so good to be held while they’re crying. Neither of them can remember the last time someone just held them like this. Let them release everything that was bottled up inside into reckless, ugly sobs. 

It’s the first time they’ve ever truly hugged. This also feels good. 

They must cry into each other for at least five minutes, maybe ten. It’s Argyle who pulls away first and wipes his tears and snot with the sleeve of his shirt. Jonathan lets out a little laugh and pulls his collar up to do the same. They’re still holding each other. Argyle is rubbing circles into the middle of his back.

“How do we end this thing?” Argyle whispers. “For good.”

Jonathan turns his head to look back at the front of the van. He looks back at Argyle, his best friend, really his only friend, whose look of determination sets something alight in him. 

“Are you down for a longer road trip?”

Argyle nods with his lips pursed, the vulnerability of the last few moments slipping into a newly found, almost easy sense of purpose. A look that says, "For you, dude? Anything."

This makes Jonathan smile. 

“Let’s get that motherfucker," Argyle declares.

[crowncrown]

i rewatched genloss episode three and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem

Rewatching this episode with the knowledge of what’s going to happen adds such a nuance to this that you can’t fully understand until you already know the ending. From the first 10 minutes Hetch repetitively tells Ranboo he’s still in control of the simulation. He says things like

“Just listen to me I’ve got everything under control”

“I’ve programmed them (the Showfall drones) to believe there’s no show going on right now”

“I’ve disabled your mask”

Even Ranboo acknowledges this, at one point exclaiming

“I don’t know! you’re the one in control!”

Ranboo has gotten very used to this routine. Do what you’re told. Try to succeed the best you can. And maybe less people will die in the process. But this times different. He’s given partial control. The veil over his eyes is lowered just enough where he’s seeing more than he’s ever seen before. But he has no control. Hetch is doing the same thing Showfall has been doing this whole time. Telling Ranboo exactly what to do to get the best show out of him.

As the episode goes on, Showfall alludes to the simulation being active as ever more and more. There’s still background music perfectly timed. The camera angles are still there. Hetch gives us a lazy excuse that he’s using it to watch Ranboo, but this is the same guy who said Ethan and Nikki are still alive and well.

But I think the most sinister thing this time around is that they’re not just feeding Ranboo the answer to the questions they throw at him. They’re feeding him a narrative. When he exclaims “why me?!” Hetch responds with no hesitation “There must be something special about you”

“It’s a show. There’s a script. You’re the hero” ***

(We will most definitely come back to this ;) )

The most CLEAR part that shows us that the simulation is alive, before of course, we are shown very obviously, is the lead up to the kill switch scene. The audio distortion times up with Charlie’s perfectly timed speech. It has its own music. So many different camera angles. Zooms. It’s the best camera work of the whole show. It’s so cinematic and that’s on PURPOSE. Showfall is winking at us through the production of this, almost teasing us at what’s to come very soon after. We should have caught this. We should have been screaming at the screen telling our beloved hero to run. But we were celebrating. This should have been our biggest sign that this is all wrong and there’s no way in hell this is right but we were CELEBRATING. Our hero had won right?!

Yet he knew subconsciously that it was all wrong. Why else would you bow at a camera that’s supposed to be turned off? Once again he’s blind. The veil is pulled fully over his eyes yet again and he is back to the puppet we’ve gotten to know all along.

His victory is nothing but a set up to add more to the cinematography of his death.

And it leads on to the scene that we all dread on every rewatch. The execution. Or the box as I like to call it (🙃) Remember that point I said we’d come back to? This scene has so many parallels it makes my head spin. Hetch reassures Ranboo less than 20 minutes before that:

“You were just doing what you needed to to survive”

“There must be something special about you”

Because he had to do what he had to do right? He was just a guy trying to survive? Or was he? Did our beloved hero really have to do the things he did? Did he betray us? It festers in our brains deciding if this man should live or die while Hetch fuels the fire.

“don’t you see there’s consequences to your own actions?!”

“We only pushed you in the right direction!”

“That was the real you! Ranboo!”

He parallels these phrases in a way that makes us question everything we think we know about him. And the final nail in the coffin hits us right in the decision making skills as he hammers in:

“The choices you made. That’s the real you. That’s what makes you a hero”

That’s. What makes you. A hero.

No valiant efforts. No conquests. Not even winning. No. This was never about being brave or bold. This was about being a pawn. An actor playing whatever part he’s told to play. “The hero” is a title only given to the unluckiest of fools. Believing they are making a difference while being tossed away the second they break script.

That’s what makes a hero.