#ok i can and i will gush about this for the next few months

[thatdeshigirl]

ok so i watched Totally Killer (2023) today andddd

TELL ME YOU CAN'T SEE IT I DARE YOU

i loved the movie and then the whole time i was thinking of hermione granger with her time turner back in the 3rd year (because jamie with her time machine, DUH)

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐃

madeleine chase x will smith

will goes on a podcast and reveals to the world his gushing crush on pop star, madeleine chase (wc; 1.11k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ this is lowkey inspired by how tate mcrae and cole sillinger first got together + what will said in a podcast about tate mcrae (literally every man is obsessed with her and so am i)

au masterlist

It had been about a week since Will had moved to San Jose and he was… settling. California was very different from Massachusetts and everything was new. From the weather to the people, everything was unfamiliar to Will. His teammates — another new thing Will was getting used to — had been nothing but welcoming. They had been showing him around the area and making sure he was settling in well—especially the Marleau family who were taking him in for his first year in San Jose.

He appreciated their efforts, even though the move was still overwhelming at times. The sunny, warm weather of California was a stark contrast to the often chilly and unpredictable climate of Massachusetts, and it was both a blessing and a challenge to adapt to. The culture here was more laid-back, and people seemed to carry an air of casualness that Will wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

In the midst of all these changes, he was dealing with the start of the hockey season, which brought on a lot of commitments. Despite today being a rest day from all of the beginning of the season media, Will was sitting in the Empty Netters podcast studio. Will had met Dan and Chris, the two hosts, a while back, promising them he’d come on when he got signed by the Sharks. Months later, Will was fulfilling his promise.

“Alright, Will, welcome to the Empty Netters pod! Glad to have you here,” said Chris.

“Thank you for having me,” Will said, smiling politely.

“So, you've been in San Jose for what—about two weeks? How’s the transition going? It’s gotta be a change from Massachusetts." Dan asked.

Will nodded, leaning into the mic a bit. “Yeah, about that but it feels like longer with everything going on. It’s been go, go, go since I got here but California’s great. And everyone’s been super welcoming, especially the Marleau family. They’ve really helped me get settled.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, you got blessed with your living situation for your first year. I mean Patrick Marleau is a legend.”

“Not bad at all,” Will chuckled, relaxing a little. “They’ve been great. Showing me around, and introducing me to some good spots to eat. I’m trying to figure out the whole California lifestyle.”

The conversation flowed easily as they touched on his early career, what he was looking forward to with the Sharks and a few lighter topics.

“Okay, Will, to end this interview we just want to do some rapid-fire questions, alright? So these are just random.” Chris asked.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” Will replied.

“Great, first question,” Chris said, glancing at his notes. “What's your favorite movie?”

Will thought for a moment, debating between the movies he loved. “I'd have to say 'Good Will Hunting'. It's a classic and, well, it's set in Boston. Reminds me of home.”

Both Dan and Chris nodded appreciatively. “Nice choice,” Dan answered. “Alright, next up: what's your go-to comfort food?”

“Probably a good lobster roll,” Will replied instantly. “It's practically a staple back home.”

“A lobster roll from Cape Cod sounds fucking delicious.” Chris agreed.

“Alright, final question,” Dan says. “Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Madeleine Chase,” Will says without hesitation.

Both Dan and Chris burst into laughter at Will’s quick answer, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he realizes his eagerness. “Damn, you were ready for that question,” Chris says through laughter. “Can you expand on why she is your celebrity crush?”

Will chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I mean, first of all, she’s gorgeous. I keep seeing photos of her performing for Taylor Swift in Europe and… whew.” Will answers, getting another chorus of laughter from the podcast hosts. “But also there’s something about her vibe. She seems really down-to-earth and genuine. I’ve seen her in interviews and she’s got a great sense of humor.”

Dan grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Will admitted, laughing. “But, you know, it’s hard not to admire someone like that. She’s got the whole package.”

“Quick, favorite song of hers?” Chris asked.

Will didn’t have to think much before answering. “Close To You. It’s just such a fun song to listen to.”

“If you have a message for Madeleine that we might be able to get to her at some point, what would it be?” Dan asked.

Will chuckled, questioning if he really wanted to it all out bare on this podcast. “Answer my DM,” he said, confidence lacing his tone.

“No way you’ve DM’ed her.” Chris laughed.

Will simply shrugged, laughing along with the two brothers. Dan leaned in with mock seriousness. "Alright, Sharks fans, you heard it here first—Will Smith’s got game both on and off the ice."

As the podcast wrapped up, Will thanked Chris and Dan, and they walked him out. His agent was waiting, jumping straight into talking about his schedule, but Will wasn't really listening. He was still stuck replaying the last part of the interview in his head.

Did I really just say that? His mind replayed the last part of the interview—talking about Madeleine Chase with no filter, like some lovestruck kid. He cringed inwardly, imagining how it must have sounded to anyone listening. He could already hear the ribbing from his teammates once this went live, and he cringed. His agent's voice was just white noise now as Will’s thoughts spiraled, imagining the potential fallout.

Answer my DM. The words bounced around his head like an unwelcome reminder of how he’d opened himself up for a joke. What if she actually did hear it? He wasn’t sure what compelled him to be so bold, especially considering they didn’t know each other. Will had always been reserved, especially in public settings, and now he felt like he'd let his guard down too much.

“Will? You listening?” his agent said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Will replied quickly, though he wasn’t. He pulled out his phone, hovering over the podcast's social media page. Maybe I can ask them to cut that part out… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s too late. He forced himself to put his phone away, trying to focus on anything else but the possibility of his comment blowing up online.

Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the doubt. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They laughed, so it couldn’t have been too cringey… right?

Still, the uncertainty weighed on him. California was supposed to be a fresh start, but at that moment, Will couldn’t help but feel like he’d already stumbled out of the gate.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 17

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: racist microagressions, boundary crossing, and people in positions of power being scum, cursing wc: 2.4k

A/N: chapter concept was suggested by @scared-reader 👻 so if you like it thank them for the inspiring ask in the comments! (and feel free to submit your own if you've got an idea for me, you never know what's going to set off the unhinged writing monster in my soul 😅 )

Chapter Selection

Damian was at my apartment again. He'd come over after school, and the look on his face suggested there was something weighing him down. I got him set up at the table to do his homework, knowing he wouldn't be ready to talk until he felt his responsibilities were complete, and ordered pizza. While he worked, I made my grandmother's brownies. 

An hour later we were sitting on the floor in front of my tv, eating pizza and brownies, drinking soda, and playing mindless video games. Between rounds, Damian finally spoke up; “... There's an art show for our parents at my school next week … Father couldn't make it last year, something came up at work.”

I frowned a bit; “That sucks! ... Well, I'm sure he'll make it this year, yeah?”

“... Probably not. It's a busy time of year for him...”

“That's not fair…”

“It is what it is.” On the surface he sounded nonchalant about it, but after months of getting to know each other I was starting to catch the subtleties of his mannerisms and tones. And when he said ‘it is what it is' I heard, clear as day, the ache of unexpressed sorrow; the kind of sorrow that makes you feel selfish and cruel for caring at all over something so seemingly trivial.

“... Well, I know I'm not a parent, but I am an adult in your life who loves … your art. Think they'd let me come?”

“... You want to come?” he didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Of course, if you're ok with it. … I remember how disappointing it was when my parents didn't come to my after school stuff. … Felt like I was the only kid in the room without an adult gushing over my work. I knew they were proud of me, they were just busy, but … I wanted my interests to be their priority for just a few hours. It hurt, seeing everyone else's adults make time for them when mine couldn't, and I don't want you to have to go through that too. So if you're comfortable with it I would be honored to get to go to your art show!”

Damian blinked a few times, looking down into his lap, and nodded. “... Ok. … Yeah, you … you can come. … It's Friday after school, from 4-6.” His voice came out a bit sharper than usual, like he was fighting to get the words out at all.

I smiled gently, pulling out my phone. “It's going right in my calendar. Will you already be there?” He nodded. “Perfect, … can Jace come too, or should I take the bus?”

Damian considered for a minute. “.... I suppose Todd can come. … It would be difficult to use the city bus to get to my school…”

I nodded. “Thanks kiddo.”

He opened his mouth, frowning slightly; “... I … why do you keep calling me that?”

I cringed slightly; “Sorry Damian, I keep forgetting you don't like it. I like to give people affectionate nicknames, it’s sort of second nature at this point I guess. I'll do better, I promise.”

“... No, it … it's ok, you don't have to stop. … I'm still not Dami though.”

I grinned, nodding. “You got it, kiddo.” Right, only Jon gets to call him Dami.

He nodded once, smiling a little.

Tears filled my eyes. The lump in my throat made it incredibly difficult to speak, but I had to say something; he was staring up at me with those big, guarded eyes, waiting for my response. “... Damian, it's-”

“Perfect…” Jason's arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

Damian's section of the art show was filled with portraits of his family and friends. And right in the center, on one of the biggest canvases I'd seen outside of a museum, was a painting of the three of us on my couch; me and Damian facing each other with Jason in the middle, his hand on my knees, just like the time they'd spent the night. The casual intimacy of our poses and easy smiles on our faces were like a dream for the future, laid bare in front of us.

It wasn't as easy as the painting made it look, not yet, but maybe someday it would be.

I nodded, agreeing with Jason; “it's beautiful~ you're so talented! … is … is that really how you see me?”

Damian hadn't made me smaller; I was still round and soft in his painting, but instead of feeling insecure the portrait made me feel beautiful. The delicate, sweeping brush strokes that made up my body exuded warmth and tenderness. I wasn't entirely sure if it was my love for him that he'd seen and captured in the paint, or his own affection for me, but it was there on the canvas for all to see.

He tilted his head; “... I don't understand? That is what you look like.”

“Yeah, but … Damian, in a culture that teaches women that being big is bad, making a fat girl feel beautiful in her fatness is like the artistic equivalent of finding Bigfoot - there are people who say they have, but who actually believes them?” I smiled softly, looking into his confused eyes; “you’ve made me feel beautiful, Damian. … Thank you.”

Jason hugged me tighter, kissing my shoulder; “... good job, demon brat~”

Damian flushed a bit, obviously pleased, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, a tall woman came up behind him. She smiled warmly, looking at me; “ah, you must be the panther tamer!”

Damian's entire demeanor changed in an instant, closing in on himself. I frowned, looking up at her; “excuse me? … Who are you?”

The woman ruffled Damian's hair, either not noticing or not caring about his grimace or minuscule flinch as she made contact; “I’m Mrs. Webster, Damian's math teacher! It's a miracle; ever since you've come into his life, our little wild cat here has finally retracted his claws! Finally dropping some of those nasty habits of his. I don't know what you're doing with him, but keep up the good work!”

“... So you did just say what I thought you said. … Ok, bet.” I pushed Jason's arms off me and stepped forward until she stumbled back, making sure I ended up between her and Damian. “First of all; don't ever touch him again. Anyone with two brain cells can tell he doesn't like it.”

She stuttered, stepping back more; “ah! It was just a hair ruffle-”

“Don't. Ever. Touch him. Secondly, he is a person, he's not a wild animal that needs to be tamed. What on earth makes you think that's an appropriate thing to say about one of your students?”

“Hey now! I just meant that his behavior has gotten better, it's a compliment!”

I continued to walk toward her, slowly backing her into a corner. “Shut. The fuck. Up. You were not complimenting him; you were othering him. He is a child in a foreign country with foreign, often contradictory culture; since coming here he has had to relearn everything about how life works and what's expected of him, and he has had to do it using English, one of the most obnoxious languages to learn, and probably the fourth or even fifth one he knows. He is expected to gracefully fold himself into an American household, go to an American school, and follow American customs; nothing in his life would have prepared him for any of that, but he has done it all, and he's done it while living under intense media scrutiny because of his family name. And on top of all that, he's also making all these life changes during one of the hardest parts of a person's development. He works hard every single day to navigate this life, often doing things he hates because they're expected of him, all for your comfort. Is it so much to ask that his teachers treat him with some basic fucking respect?”

She frowned, trying to interrupt me; “I was just-”

“No, I'm talking, that means you shut your mouth. That boy, that brilliant, brave, kind young man was ripped from the life he knew, the good and the bad in it, sent away from his family and friends, to a supposed land of freedom and safety, and when he gets here he has to deal with mediocre minds like yours calling him an animal and praising the people who care about him for their ‘good work' with him? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

I have done no work here; it is not work to meet him where he's at. It is not work to love that boy in whatever ways he's ready to accept. And it is certainly not work to treat him with respect. That is the bare fucking minimum. It is a joy and a pleasure to get to know him; he is a remarkable young man. On his worst day he is a better person than you are on your best. He is compassionate, and patient, and he is a good kid. How fucking dare you talk about him like there's something wrong with him being just the way he is? Who the hell do you think you are? What kind of racist shit-”

“Hey now! I am not racist!”

The side of my fist made contact with the stone wall above her head. I took a deep breath, growling softly; “tell yourself whatever you need to. But you are going to keep a few things in mind going forward. Number one; anything you say or do to Damian will get back to me. Number two;” I smirked, chuckling darkly; “I am not afraid of jail time. So, for everyone's best interest; you will respect his boundaries, and you will think before you open your ignorant mouth. Because if I find out that you or anyone in this school has more inconsiderate, racist ass bullshit to say about my kid, I will be back. And from that day on, you will not know a moment of peace. Have I made myself clear, Mrs. Webster?”

She nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear, and I gave her the most condescending smirk I could before spinning on my heel to return to my boys. I only made it a few steps before Damian ran straight into me, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His face buried into my chest, and his shoulders were shaking. I was almost pushed back by the force of him throwing himself at me, but I managed to stay standing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, one hand gently cupping his head, the other stroking his back.

We stood like that for a long while. I wasn't going to pull away first; this was the first time I'd seen Damian initiate physical contact with anyone, and I was not about to give him any reason to believe it had to stop before he was ready. He could have as much as he wanted for as long as he wanted it.

I looked up at Jason over Damian's head; I thought he looked a bit proud, leaning against the wall to watch us. He gestured to me that he was heading out of the room but would be back soon and I nodded, just continuing to hold the shaking boy in my arms. I ran my fingers through his hair gently, hoping it would soothe him, “... I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Damian…”

He shook his head, slowly releasing me. He didn't look up, but I could tell from the wet spot above my heart that he had been crying. “... Can we go home?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Let's get you home.”

“No, I mean … your home?”

“Oh, yeah, you can spend the night at mine. You can spend the whole weekend if you want. … I'll tell your dad for you, if you want?”

He nodded, slowly taking my hand. “... Can we stop at the manor, so I can get a few things and feed my pets?”

“Of course we can.” I smiled softly, gently squeezing his hand, and led him out of the auditorium to find Jason.

Jay met us at the front office. “You're being swapped into Mr. Desantis's math class, Damian.”

Damian nodded, staring at the floor in front of him. “... Thank you.”

Jason nodded, looking at our hands; “... We ready to go?”

“Yeah. We're gonna stop at the manor so Damian can get some stuff, and then we'll all head home.”

Jason nodded, letting us lead the way. He walked behind Damian and over a bit, so the youngest Wayne was flanked by us. Damian watched his feet as we made our way to the car, smiling just a little. “... Are you really going to return if I tell you my teachers are still saying those things about me?”

I stopped next to the car, falling to one knee in front of him, and gently squeezed Damian's hands. His vibrant green eyes slowly met mine, and I had to bite back the rage boiling in my chest; he looked so fragile, like he expected me to say ‘no, you don't deserve it, take care of yourself'. “... Damian, if anyone says or does anything to make you feel inferior, I want you to tell them that you are not required to accept their mistreatment, and walk away. Then you call me. If I don't pick up it'll be because I'm still asleep or at work, you text me and then you call Jay, he will come get me, and we will come for you. Ok?”

“... You'd leave work?”

“... I feel like that's not as impressive as the fact that I'm willing to lose sleep over this, but yes; you are more important than work. I can easily get another job, what I can't and won't do is make you face their shit alone.”

He nodded slowly. “... Father said I'm not supposed to misbehave at school … We have the public eye on us…”

Jay growled softly; “I am certain that he didn't mean for you to accept that kind of bullshit from inferior minds. And if he did, he can take it up with me. You do not have to accept their cruelty. Not ever.”

Damian looked up at Jason slowly, nodding. “... Really?”

“Really.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[indiasthoughts]

"Can you roll my window up?"

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aka- , eren, and xiao, x black readers turn on this trend

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warnings;;

suggestive, but no smut, x black reader, ,, use of the n word , fluff, she/her/hers pronouns, lowkey toxic relationships, SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN!!!!

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authors note: ik this is such a silly contrast aot and genshin but i been craving all both men sooo😮‍💨

and for reference--

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Ps: this is old work but i desperately need smth to post so mind the cornyness pls 🙈

୨⎯ Eren ⎯୧

Inside of the 6'3 mans black BMW M4 was a beautiful girl in his passengers seat, annoyed and frustrated.

see- this girl had a few things that annoyed her that he knew of yet still did when she rode in someones car.

one- rolling her window down and leaving her cold in her black skims dress. two- playing music she's not fond of at the moment, if she's in a brent faiyaz mood why play warren g? and three- not listening to what she had to say.

so when her boyfriend, Eren, of three months did all three at the same time frustration ng came crashing down

"Eren, baby, please roll my window up.", rubbing her arms to create any sort of warmth.

- and to no avail, ignored.

"babe..."

- ignored.

she furrowed her eyebrows and turnt the music down to a volume of 2.

"Can you roll my window up?!"

"No, ur attitude ruining my vibe bro"

As "2SEATER" By tyler the creator started playing, he turned the volume up, but not as high as he had it before, out of the slightest bit of respect.

"Who the fuck is your bro?"

"Ma what I told you about swearing?"

She reached over to his side, unbuckling the seatbelt as her boyfriend stopped at a red light. she pressed the passengers window button and rolled her window up.

"Now the music aint hitting from all angles!!"

"Imma hit you from all angles."

He once again put the windows down.

"Whos car this is?"

"Who sitting here?"

"Ion know what you have an attitude for..."

"Oh my god."

she leaned into her seat, embracing the cold she'd have to deal with for the next 15 minutes.

about another minute passed, and Eren was already tired of the awkward atmosphere.

"Baby im sorry"

"mhm.."

he held a small frown as he pulled up into a empty parking spot .

Tyler spoke in the background- 'the fuck you turn my music down for?'

"mamas it's us" he said with the widest grin he could possibly hold.

'can you roll my window up?'

you lip synced to the girl's parts.

'Why? damn.'

as he would too.

"Cause it's windy." You audibly spoke this time.

"But I love it when your hair blows."

as the beat dropped, he reached in and gave you a kiss.

ewww this was so sickenlybsweet ugh me and who🤢🤢

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

୨⎯ Xiao ⎯୧

you and your boyfriend, Xiao had been lying down in his bedroom, while you played with his cat on his lap, he did his homework. There was a specific way he liked to have his room, cold. whether it's the ac blasting on days where the cold was too much too have his windows open, or open windows, on the warmer days. Today happened to be one of the warmer days. And despite the baggy sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and one of his sweaters, his room was still too cold for you. As much as you cuddles up with Astro, the cat, and your boyfriend, it was still unbearable.

"Xiao, lets close the windows please.."

"I won't be able to concentrate."

he furrowed his eyebrows and said that with in the sturnest way he could.

"I'm gonna head into the living room then"

You grabbed the cat, and as quick as one leg came down, it came back up.

He played a faveorite playlist of his, when "2SEATER" came first.

"Sit back down pretty?" more of a question than a command.

"Damnn nigga it's cold!"

"m'sorry, stay wimme ok?"

He turned the volume up and held your waist, bringing his lips to your neck and nibbling your neck.

You knit your brows together, feeling a gush of cold air, and flinched softly. Taking his phone that was connected to his JBL speaker, and lowering it.

"Can you roll the windows up?"

"Whyd you turn the music down"

he puts it back on, lowly chuckling at the perfect timing on the song.

"Can you roll it up?"

"Why?, damn"

"Because it's!-"

You slowly realise the timing on the song and this mini arguement.

"But i love it when your hair blows.."

As he finally removed his lips from your neck, and tilting your neck to crane your head and meet his lips.

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day. 

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York. 

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.” 

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work. 

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands. 

You should’ve expected it. 

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had. 

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them. 

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning. 

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls. 

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do. 

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse. 

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that. 

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time. 

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles. 

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara. 

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie. 

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”. 

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place. 

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot! 

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy. 

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way. 

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring. 

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action. 

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background. 

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.” 

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment. 

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor. 

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion. 

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again. 

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.” 

“I have to.” 

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

[nemolfc]

𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭/𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟? )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧

( rúben, I'll have your babies, give me a chance )

Tonight was a very big night for Rúben, he was being honored by UEFA for his incredible work in Manchester City as well as his national team, and he along with his wife were going to attend - while he was adjusting the buttons of his shirt, he hears a soft thud followed by a groan which sent him flying out of the bathroom in a hurry to check, and there she was, his wife of two years who has been carrying their baby girl for nearly five months struggling to zip the dress she was wearing. " Baby, are you ok? "

She shoots him a glare, " Do I look ok? " she asks in a satirical tone.

Rúben was aware that it was her hormones talking so he smiled and made his way over to her, " What's wrong? "

She gestures to her bump, " Ask your daughter, she wants to join in on the celebration "

The Portuguese chuckles, kneeling down then placing his hands over her bump and it seemed that their baby knew, as she decided to kick once again which made him smile, " Princess " he said with a gentle tone, " Hi there, I know you're as happy as I am but we don't want to upset your Māe now do we? "

She smiles at the sight, threading her digits through his hair. " I'm definitely feeling the after effects "

" Tell you what princess, if you remain as quiet as you can. Tonight I'll tell you a story, the story of how a young boy from Amadora had somehow managed to win over the prettiest girl in the neighborhood he lived in " He states, looking up to his wife with a soft smile.

" I think she only listens to you " She said.

He stood up, and carefully turned her around to zip up her dress, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder then said, " We can apologize and stay home, if you're tired "

She shakes her head in refusal, " I want to be there, to boast and brag about how my husband is the sexiest most talented defender Portugal has ever produced "

He groans in response, nuzzling his face in her neck " Babe, don't do this to me "

She giggles, " Come on handsome, I need help with my shoes "

They were finally dressed and ready to go, Before they enter the limo he looks at her. " If at any point, you feel uncomfortable you let me know and we go home " he said, " I mean it "

" I promise, we'll be ok " She assures him.

He nods, stroking her bump. " Remember princess, make sure Māe is happy at all costs "

She giggles and pecks his lips, " She already is "

_____________________________________________________________

Y/N and Rúben were seated next to Rodri and his girlfriend Laura, the latter had leant closer and gushed over Y/N's bump. " Did you two decide on a name yet? " she asked her, Y/N shakes her head with a soft smile, " Not yet, we did however decide to give her his mother's name as a middle name "

" I can send you over a few lists that I saved " Laura whispers with a giggle, " Rodrigo was the one who saved them and sent them to me "

" Aww, so cute, I am sure you two will have the cutest babies " Y/N gushes.

It was time for the ceremony to begin, and just as Rúben along with his Manchester City teammates stood up on the stage and were asked to give a few words, Rúben grabs the microphone to speak. " I would like to thank god, my family and every single person that has believed in my ability but most of all, I would like to thank the most hardworking person I know " he looks at her and beams, " My beautiful wife Y/N who's currently housing the greatest blessing I can ever hope for, our baby girl, without her - I wouldn't have been able to push through this year, so thank you "

Y/N claps her hands then mouths, " I love you "

Laura leans closer, " That was so cute "

" He wants to kill me " Y/N laughs.

Rúben was then lead back to his seat and smiled, " How are you feeling? "

" I'm feeling good and apparently so is your baby, she felt the love " She giggles.

He pecks her lips then strokes her belly, " That's all I can ask for, all these trophies mean nothing if I don't have you "

" Aw baby, I love you " She smiled tearfully.

" I love you too " He smiled.

[beautifulfuckup99]

May you please write a Yoongi imagine, doesn’t matter what the premise is, I just want a fluffy husband Yoongi<3!!!🫶🏼

Sure Thing!

Title: I've Got It From Here

Rating: G

Warning(s): Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Yoongi's Accident, Talks of PTSD, Anxiety, and yes there will be FLUFF.

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy! Keep the requests comin!

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

He doesn't know what triggered it, really. Maybe it was sleeping on it wrong? Maybe it was the cold weather of Seattle, where he was touring currently? Maybe it was performing so hard every night?

No matter the real cause, this morning Yoongi woke with a stiff shoulder and a tightness in his chest like he usually got when experiencing this pain. It's like with the pain came the memories, came the flashbacks of the tire...

Yoongi shuts his eyes, wanting to push the image away. Days like this convinced him that he, indeed, was not over the past. But he had to be. For the fans, for the sake of the tour, and more importantly, for you.

You had finally gotten a free schedule to come visit your husband on tour and Yoongi would be damned if this trip was ruined by his damn shoulder. Damnit.

And so, with a deep breath, and slight wince, Yoongi got out of bed and proceeded to get ready to meet you at the airport.

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

It's all a rush of cameras and screaming fans and the flash, God the flash. It was broad daylight, why the hell did they need the flash on?!

And then as quickly as it's all too much for him, it becomes background noise the second your arms wrap around him. And he bears the pain so he can hold you back as you laugh in pure delight at being back in your husband's arms.

"God, this feels good..." You laugh happily as you snuggle more into his chest, kissing his shoulder softly as usually, and Yoongi bites back a soft hiss.

"Tell me about it..." He sighs softly as he puts his face in your hair, breathing in your scent with a deep and full whiff. You'd never know how much he needed this. Needed you. He felt calmer already.

"Let's go! I've been looking forward to this for weeks!" You laugh as you hold his arm while bouncing towards baggage claim. Yoongi stiffens and shuts his eyes. You pause instantly. "Baby?" You ask in concern.

"I-I'm good." He says fast. "Didn't get enough sleep last night." He says. You'd been hard at work these past few months while he's been gone. This was your vacation. And he was not going to ruin that. He could take it. He could endure. The smile on your face would be worth it.

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

As soon as you're settled in the hotel room, you're dragging Yoongi around the hotel and find a display of activity brochures. You gush over the different restaurants, museums, and live concerts they have this week. You playfully hold up a 'Folklore Concert in the Park' pamphlet. "Maybe you'll get inspiration for the next album..." You joke and he smiles a thin lipped smile.

"Maybe. Do a whole country folklore album. Hat, boots, and horse." He teases along and you giggle as you nudge him. He holds his arm when you're not looking and when you gasp, he straightens up.

"Festival! Winter Festival! Happening tonight. We can go, right? It's ok?" You ask hopefully as you look up at your husband with the same big eyes that always get him.

He looks you in the eyes. Getting lost in them was better than any coping mechanism. You were the best distraction and anxiety reducer. How could you not know how much those eyes meant to him? He finally hums. "I think we can stop by, look around..." He gives in softly.

"This is gonna be the best vacation ever!" You giggle and hug him tightly. He squeezes his eyes to stop the tears. "I love you!" You giggle and he lets out a soft sigh. "I love you..." He whispers.

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

Later that evening, you're led into the Winter Festival that was taking place at some park by a river. Families, couples, and groups of friends of all ages are running around. Christmas lights adorned the trees, and the freshly laid snow on the ground looked like something out of a movie.

You're wearing a casual outfit with your sweater and one of Yoongi's leather jackets with fur inside of it on top. Layers were the most important thing in the winter, so you didn't mind the wool hat and scarf you were nuzzled in. Yoongi holds your hand to the best of his ability, but the cold weather and the heavy winter coat was not helping. And the scarf around his neck felt like a noose.

And, oh my god, was he breathing? When was his last breath? This coat was so damn heavy. He couldn't focus on what you were sayin-wait. You were speaking?

He finally blinks, trying to focus on you as you joke about the huge inflatable decorations. "They'd look good in front of our place. Of course, I think if we ever posted our house looking like this, Taehyung would be the first to mock us for it." You giggle as you enjoy the 'Winter Wonderland' aesthetic.

Yoongi hums and you eye him a bit. Something was wrong with your husband. You could feel it in your heart. He'd been quiet the whole day. Barely eating, barely laughing. He was deep in his own thoughts. Something that only happened when he was either thinking of a new song, or when his anxiety got really bad.

You grip his hand a bit firmer to try and ground him, but he barely reacts. You finally move in front of him and stop, causing him to bump into you. He curses at the suddenness, and you watch him in concern.

"Yoongi..." You try as you make him look at you. "I'm fine." He says fast. "You want... Decorations." He says to prove he's been paying attention, but his voice comes out in soft pants. His skin is pale, his lips are trembling, his eyes show the panic in his head.

"Baby. Stay here, I'm gonna get you something to drink." You say fast before you walk off, pulling out your phone to check the time and to see if you could text the driver to come around for you two.

You're busy on your phone and Yoongi watches you walk away but is thrown further into his panic when he sees a black car swerve around the corner to enter the parking lot. The same parking lot you were about to cross to get to the refreshments table.

Flashes of that day runs through his mind as he takes off after you. "Y/N!" He screams in horror. You stop in your tracks and turn fast to face him with wide eyes. He grabs your arm and yanks you out of the street as the car full of teenagers speeds past.

"What is the matter with you?! You didn't see that car?! It could have-" You cut Yoongi off as you try and get him to focus, but he continues his panicked rambles. "I won't lose you. I won't lose you." He repeats fast, over and over again as you grab his face hard.

"Baby!" You say finally and his bottom lip begins to quiver a bit as he looks at you. His walls, his prideful stubbornness, his 'don't worry about me' attitude... it all crumbles down right in front of your eyes. You stroke his cheeks gently. "What's wrong, baby?" You whisper as tears slowly slide down his puffy cheeks that are pink from the cold.

"It hurts." He finally admits and your heart breaks as the realization dawns on you.

"I've got you, baby..." You sigh and carefully pull in his 5-foot 9 frame like he's the smallest thing. "I've got you..." You sigh as you nod at security to lead you two away.

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

"Ah... Ah... Ow!" Yoongi groans as you focus on putting some muscle relaxer cream on his shoulder and then wrapping it, so the lidocaine cream doesn't get anywhere else.

"Why didn't you tell me? You could've really made the pain worse..." You whisper as you carefully lay him back on a pile of pillows to hopefully help him rest.

"This was supposed to be your vacation..." He whispers and you sigh deeply. "If you weren't already hurt, I'd hurt you for being so dumb. This was our vacation. And it's not a good one if you're in pain. Marriage is a give and take game, Yoongi." You say.

"Yeah, 50/50..." He mutters and you roll your eyes. "No. Not 50/50. Sometimes it's 70/30. Sometimes it's 40/60. But the whole point of this arrangement is we take turns. You're always all in. Give me a chance to show I can be the 80 in this relationship and go down to 20." You say as you stroke his hair out of his face. He shuts his eyes at that.

"I don't want you getting tired of carrying me around..." He whispers and you stroke his soft skin before leaning in. "These shoulders can carry whatever your shoulders can't. Gladly. Any day of the week..." You whisper as you gently nudge your nose with his.

He looks into your eyes, his eyes teary. "You're not there anymore..." You whisper, knowing where his mind was. He closes his eyes, saying nothing, but nodding along.

You play with his hair a bit more and watch as he slowly starts to relax. "Rest, baby. I've got it from here..." You promise gently as he drifts off to sleep.

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

Hope you liked it!

[sakurasnowfall]

hi, Idk if i’m doing This right, but could you please write Some angst that turns into fluff about Reader x anime sanji? reader can be Afab or gender neutral, i don’t mind. You can also choose the scenario, Full control :)

thank You 🤩 and its ok if you don’t get to this, LOVE your writing by the way it’s So beautiful

Hi! As regards to your *Idk if im doing this right* no worries fam, neither do I (your request was perfect, though, so no worries!) 😭

Here is the story. I brain stormed maybe 7 ideas for this starting the night I got this request. It stumped me so freaking bad, and it took a couple weeks to get an...almost complete draft down. I let it sit for way to long, hence why it has been nearly a whole month. So here is what I am gonna do. I just wrote the missing 1/4 of this. I am going to post what it now. I WILL BE GOING BACK TO EDIT THIS AND MAKING IT BETTER. My anxiety was screaming at me to at least put out SOMETHING. So, I hope this is okay FOR NOW. I know it sucks, but I promise eventually I will improve it for you!

Thank you thank you thank you for the compliment!!! Lots of love <3

Tw : Blood, syringe mention, death mentioned

Established relationship, fem reader, and () used as a name placeholder.

Sanji usually loved red. Maroon roses. Vermillion wine. Scarlett sunsets. Ruby hearts. But now? He hated it. He hated it so much. Seeing it, dripping from every spot on her body. Covering her in a sheet of sickening crimson. Imagining what he would give to swap their places was not a thought for the faint of heart. All he could do was watch as Chopper gently cleaned the blood off of her arms and her face. As the tiny doctor wrapped her torso in bandages, her hovered, almost like a ghost with how pale and silent he remained. Ironic...that the chef of the crew himself was the only one who did not eat. Actually, that was not quiet true, as he forced himself a few forkfuls of food, guided by the phantom scolding he heard from () about neglecting his self care. He spent that night in the infirmary with her. Listening to the fragile, feathery breaths that balanced her on the edge of his world and the next. He thought that was the worst sound he would hear that day. This was not the case. Sanji learned that the worst sound was not the sound of her anguished screams. It was not the sound of her painful, labored breaths. He learned it was not the sound of her unconscious cries.

Sanji learned that the worst sound was no sound at all.

No amount of force on the Grandline could be guaranteed success in trying to restrain him. Sanji couldn't see Chopper scrambling to her bedside or hear him shouting. He couldn't hear Luffy's yelling. He couldnt hear Zoros grunts as the swordsman tried in vain to hold the cook down, slamming him to the floor after narrowly avoiding a kick to the head. If he couldn't see Robins powers prop up various instruments for Chopper, then certainly couldn't have seen one of her hands stabbing a syringe into his arm.

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

When the cook awoke, it wasn't his head, or his knees - which had been bent underneath his weight - that hurt the most. It was his heart. His ever-bleeding heart, over flowing with the love that gushed and overflowed. How he found the strength to stand, he wasn't sure. But when he did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. A place that held a bright, white shimmer and a peculiar haze about it, yet for all it's light gave off no warmth. He rubbed the back of his head, turning to better gauge his surroundings. That's when he saw her. Standing, maybe 200 feet away from him. Standing. Almost shimmering, radiant. Alive. If his legs had ever held a purpose other than carrying him to her, they didn't remember, as he sprinted toward her. She was just about to turn to him, when shadow, greater than anything he had ever seen, was summoned forth from the white ground, casting an ugly contrast, dragging whatever twisted world he was in from chilled to ice-cold. Sanji knew what this shadow was. More sure than he had been of almost anything in his life. It wanted her. Maybe it wanted him as well. He had run from it more times than he could count. But there was no running this time.

Rage guided his motions, and his love refined them to a deadly point, spearing the sheer power of his attacks into his opponent's core. If fighting death itself was all that stood between him and his life, then he would gladly fight it. Death wanted his life, and it would not have her. His fire lit it's shadows, extinguishing them, bit by bit, piece by piece. Until there was nothing left but air.

By the time he was done, adrenaline had rewarded him with the energy to run the remaining distance to her. When he reached her, he stopped. He reached out, his hand shaking. "()........" His voice failed him, his hand attempting to make up for his words by softly coming to rest at the side of her face. She had not broken her silence, but he could see her returning to him. Shutting her eyes and leaning into his touch, a few stray teardrops escaping her eyes, his own eyes mirroring the action. Her kissed her softly, hoping to regain his words through his actions. He pulled back after a brief moment, resting his forehead against hers. His hand had now moved to intertwine with hers. When his voice returned to him, in a whisper "let's go home......"

When Sanji woke up, his eyes had hardly opened before he sprang out of bed, scrambling into Chopper's office. He saw () sitting up, awake, eyes locked on him. He paused, before carefully approaching her, perhaps afraid that THIS was the dream.

"Are you.....how are you......feeling? " the blonde came to gently sit on the edge of her bed, carefully reaching out to cup to side of her face. () placed a hand atop his.

"I'm okay." He nodded, a few stray drops of bittersweet relief sliding down his face, quickly whisked away with a small laugh.

[thatbanditqueen]

Bless Your Heart

An Elvis-o-Ween One Shot

A response to the month-long writing prompt for Halloween/Fall

Summary: It's 1957, and Jan's dreams come true when she gets invited up from the gate to join Elvis' parties at Graceland. But not all that glitters is gold, and this new social circle may have a few angels and demons among them.

Warnings: No real smut, suggestions of sex, but there is a teensy bit of scary gore at the end.... so no minors and be forewarned. This was a new experience for me, I easily could have written about Elvis romancing ghost girlies all month, but I wanted to challenge myself. Not sure if it worked but... here goes nothing.

You can check out last week's Elvis-o-ween here:

Little Blue Toes

WC: 6.8 K

6:05 p.m. Thursday, September 19, 1957

Graceland, Memphis TN

The evening sun was slowly turning red when Jan hopped off the bus, and it burned orange circles into the back of her eyelids. She shook them away, distractedly nodding at the driver as she turned her attention to the crowd down the block. The rolling hills of Whitehaven were still a deep green in the fall, but Jan hardly noticed and clutched her purse as she got closer to the gate. She tried not to be too obvious as she craned her head to see Graceland from the back of the crowd. It looked smaller than she had expected, a grey matchbox on a hill in the dusky twilight. Jan told herself that she would have to come back on the weekend, now that she knew how easy it was to get here. Now that she knew, after reading that article in the newspaper, that his fans regularly gathered in front of the house. She could plan her trip out better than she had today. After reading the newspaper at lunch, she had impulsively jumped on the bus to Whitehaven after work.  Feeling a pebble in her shoe, she was gracefully trying to hop on one foot and shake it out when two shadows loomed over her.

“See, told you it wasn’t Susie. She’s too dressed up.”

Jan squinted up at the girls in front of her.

“No, uh, not Susie.” She straightened her skirt and hesitantly stuck her hand out, grateful for the excuse to talk to someone. “Jan.”

“Heidi.” The blonde announced and tilted to the shorter brunette next to her. “And Arlene.”

“Y’all regulars?”

“Oh yeah, we come here all the time.” Arlene gushed. “We’re just waiting for him to finish breakfast and give Travis the signal.”

Jan looked through the white wrought iron gate up at house.

“What do you mean, wake up and give Travis the signal?”

“Oh, well, he sleeps through the day. Has breakfast round 4 or 5. Sometimes he’ll come sign autographs at the gate, but -” Arlene leaned in toward Jan and her eyes twinkled. “Uh, well, when he’s in town he likes us to be here in case he wants to have some people up for a party. He has parties most nights. We’re kind of in his gang -  OW.” Arlene grabbed her rib cage and hit Heidi back. “Hey, what gives?”

“You shouldn’t be bragging, Arlene, cuz we can't bring her with us and now she’ll feel left out.”

Jan smiled politely, and tugged at the pearl button on her white, linen gloves. “It’s ok - I gotta catch the last bus back home anyway.”

Jan wanted to ask the girls what Elvis was really like in-person. Before she could, though, a loud gasp filled the air and she was pushed into them as the crowd jostled closer to the gates. A tall dark figure strode down the drive dressed all in white. White dress shirt, white sport’s coat, white pants. He looked like an angel. Jan was absolutely mesmerizing and dropped her purse watching his hair flop up and down with each bounce of his white loafers. The kids around her shouted out “Hey Elvis” and cheered, but she couldn’t say a thing. She could barely breathe as her tummy flip flopped watching his mouth form into a crooked grin. She vaguely heard the other girls chatting next to her.

“I wonder if Anita Wood is up there?”

“Nah, she’s down in New Orleans at a beauty pageant, he told me last night.”

“You’re so lucky you don’t have a mom who treats you like a child, Arlene. What I wouldn’t give to stay until 2 or 3.”

The gates opened, and Jan ended up right behind Arlene and Heidi in the semi-circle around Elvis. No one pushed or prodded to tried to sneak past the guard house. It was all very civilized, and a jovial atmosphere percolated between the open gates as Elvis went from person to person, signing memorabilia and teasing the folks he met. When he made it to Arlene, Jan watched in awe as he drew her to him and pecked her sweetly on the ear, asking if she brought him his favorite cigars like she said she would. Jan would give anything to be in his gang. She would bring him all the cigars and if it meant he would hug her and kiss her and tease her too. But when his blue eyes flitted over to her, she found that her mouth had gone completely dry and she couldn’t say a word.

“Who’s ya friend with the big brown eyes?”

“Oh, that’s Jan. It’s her first time here.”

Elvis’ smirk deepened. “Cat got ya tongue?” He winked, kissing the top of Jan’s glove. “S’ok, honey. I don’t bite.”  Then his teeth grazed over her knuckle. “Much.”

Jan felt the air hitch in her throat at the way he looked at her from under his eyelids. She no longer needed her hand. He could have it. He could have anything he wanted.

Elvis chuckled. “Why, you’re as shy as a mouse. Got anything for me to sign, lil mousy?”

Jan stuttered and fumbled about in her purse for something, handing Elvis the first thing she found. Her sweaty, monogrammed handkerchief.

“I didn’t know I was coming today.” She whispered slowly, and her voice trailed off as she watched Elvis wipe his forehead with her hankie and pocket it with a wink.

“S’ok, lil gal, bring something tomorrow.” Then he whispered into Arlene’s ear and moved on through the crowd.

Arlene snaked her hand through Jan’s arm and led her toward the house. “Elvis wants you to come up to the party with us.”

Jan squeezed Arlene with a giggle, smoothing her hand over her skirt as they walked. The house got bigger and bigger as they strode up the drive and Jan realized that the round curve of the hill created an optical illusion that made it look small from the road. But now she found herself in front of a grand, Neo-colonial mansion. Large, white columns flanked the front of the house, and two white marble lions stood guard at the entrance way. It was like standing in front of a magical castle. Jan felt that she ought to be wearing a silk, red evening gown instead of her belted navy shirt dress.

They did not enter the front door. Instead, Arlene led Jan around the front of the house towards the sound of music playing and people laughing on a patio surrounding a large, shimmering pool. There was a gay crowd of young people drinking pop and mingling around. Heidi adopted a hushed, intimate tone as she pointed out the others in the gang.

“That’s Lamar, he’s always eager to please Elvis and does anything he asks - and so is Alan - the shorter stout one. That skinny little creep is Gene, and that’s Mack, he usually drives us home. The guy next to him is Richard and that’s Frances, our friend, I’m not sure how she already got up here - “

“- is she going with Elvis?”

Arlene chimed in. “Well, he’s seeing a few girls. There’s a singer, Anita, who he steps out with pretty regularly. But me, Heidi and Frances, we’re just his friends. EP is a very physical person. Likes to love on all the gals. That’s just the warm, sweet kinda guy he is. Sometimes he’ll pull me on his lap, and give me a little kiss.”

“Lucky girl.” Jan murmured.

“Mmm.” Arlene answered. “I’d rather be friends with him than date him.”

 “Really? Why’s that? Don’t you find him attractive?”

“Of course, Elvis is the most!” Heidi looked at Jan as if she had questioned the existence of gravity. “But, well, once he goes all the way with a gal, he almost never wants to see her again. His dates come and go. But his friends, well, we’re forever.” Heidi exchanged a knowing glance with Arlene.

“Like Susie.”

Heidi clicked her tongue. “Pretty sure Anita’s got her knees sewn shut til she gets a wedding ring.”

“Well, I keep my knees shut too.” Arlene interjected. “I don’t even know why any girl would want to go to bed with Elvis when they can kiss him as much as they want. There couldn’t be anything better than kissing Elvis.”

Jan raised her eye brow, thinking of a hundred other things that she could imagine doing with Elvis. But she kept them to herself and smiled, hanging back to straighten the lines on her hose as the girls joined the party. She had just finished putting the right leg in place when she looked between her legs to find Elvis watching her. His cheeks flushed, and he bite his lip before walking over. All Jan could do was sigh as he grabbed her by the waist and introducing her to everyone around the pool.  His guests, his housekeeper, Alberta, and then his mother who was just about to go inside. Mrs. Presley hugged Jan tightly and thanked her for coming to visit them, adding in a high, chipper voice.

“I’m so glad my baby is making friends like you, I can tell you have a  kind heart, Janice. I really can.”

“Nice of you to say, Mrs. Presley ma’am. I like to think I have kind heart.”

“What’s this about a sweet lil ol’ heart?”

The two women turned to find a petite blonde in the doorway behind them.

“Oh Anita.” Mrs. Presley took the blonde’s hand. “I was just saying to Jan here, how glad I am to know her. She is a good, sweet girl. I’m so glad you get to meet her, I thought you were out of town. Can I get you some food.”

The blonde smiled and licked her teeth, her blue eyes looked Jan over with a cool smile. “Thank you ever so, Mrs. Presley, but I just ate and I’m fit to bust if I swallow another morsel.”

Mrs. Presley smiled. “Well, I just know you two will be thick as thieves. Be good little babies.” She hugged them together tightly once more before saying good night.

Jan could not stop herself from staring at Anita. Her platinum blonde hair shone in the silver light and her short, busty figure filled out a tight, pink wiggle dress. Her creamy white skin was so radiant Jan would have sworn it was glowing and the contrast made her luscious red lips stand out all the more. Some of Anita’s red lipstick had smudged around her mouth and on her front teeth, and Jan pointed to her own mouth to mime helpfully.

“Why, bless ya heart,  you really are the sweetest thang looking out for me. And you’re so pretty too. I could just eat ya up!” Anita squealed as she pulled out a compact and fixed her lipstick. “I cain’t tell you how many other girls would just let me walk around looking like a fool all night.”

“They’re probably jealous, I, uh, heard you’re Elvis’ girlfriend.”

Anita pursed her lips in a tight smile. “Sometimes I think everyone knows that ’cept him. Excuse me.”

Jan walked back over to where Arlene and some of the other girls were huddled around a bucket of pop watching Anita stomp over to where Elvis stood with his arm around a cute redhead while Lamar told stories about the drive home from LA.

Arlene handed Jan a Dr. Pepper. “I see you met Anita, I could have sworn she was supposed to be at a beauty pageant in New Orleans.”

“Look, I think she’s had her nose done.” Heidi gasped. “Or, well, something is different - she looks prettier than the last time I saw her. I wonder if there even was a beauty pageant. Maybe her plastic surgeon is in New Orleans.”

Jan looked at Heidi as she spoke. “You don’t like her very much, huh?”

“She’s too possessive, and she tries to chase us off. You should have seen her trying to convince Arlene that she should go back to Chicago.” Heidi kicked the pavement with her saddle shoe. “Too bad for her, Elvis wants us here. And I plan to hang around as long as I can.”

Just then, the record changed on the jukebox and The Five Satins song. “In the Still of the Night” began to play. Jan looked over and blushed when Elvis caught her eye staring at him. Yes, I plan to stick around as long as I can too, she thought to herself, looking down at her feet. The mischievous way Elvis raised his eyebrows at her made her feel funny and she couldn’t handle looking at him for too long without grinning like a mad woman.

The night went on and Jan’s whole body tingled from the heady mix of music, moonlight and raw, unadulterated exposure to Elvis under the stars at Graceland. Sitting out in the cool night air, caught between the twinkling night sky and the glimmering pool, Jan felt as though she had finally arrived. The evening had turned out to be more magical than she could ever have imagined. She hated to pull herself away, but she gave in at midnight and went to call a cab.

The kitchen was dim this late at night, illuminated only by the soft lights above the stove, and Jan finally found a phone book in a drawer under the cupboards. She was leaning against the counter, flipping through the pages when two hands startled her working their way around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to find a dark mop of hair grazing her cheek. Then Elvis’ breath was warm on her ear.

“Looks like I caught a lil mousy.” He slowly turned her around to face him, grinning at the way she blushed. Then his eyes fell on the phone book and his lips turned into a frown. “Ain’t going, are ya lil gal? Why, it’s still early. Ain’t had the chance to learn all ya secrets yet.” He winked as he said this, and it made Jan’s heart melt.

She would have told him anything he asked. If she could talk, that is. It was difficult for to do that when she looked into Elvis’ earnest wide-eyed stare. She could hear the party out on the patio, there must have been over thirty people here who wanted to be near him. However, to look at his pouting lips and feel the needy caress of his thumb at her waist made Jan feel as though she was the only person in the world and she was letting him down by deserting him.

“I, um, I have to be at work at 7:30 tomorra.” She stuttered, staring at the floor just to be able to get the words out. “It’s time for me to turn into a pumpkin, I guess.”

Elvis rubbed her cheek. “Aw heck, I guess that’s s’ok. I’ll get Mack to drive you home.” He paused, eyelashes fluttering down for a moment. “But, uh,  you can’t leave before telling me a few of your secrets.”

“Like what?”

“Like, say, how old are you anyway, huh, lil mouse?” His thumb now rolled over her belt buckle, rubbing her stomach back and forth along the edge.

Jane’s face turned a bright, beet red as she stuttered out her response. “Um, I’m 18.”

“In school?”

She shook her head. “Just finished. I - I’m at Goldsmiths, in the steno pool.”

“Hate to think of these poor lil fingees, banging away all day.” Elvis took her hand, examining her fingers. “Didn’t even know a department store needed a steno pool.

“Um, well, uh - we’re in the business offices on the 18th floor. Most people, they, uh, they never see us.”

“That’s the only floor I wanna see, from now on. ‘specially if all the lil gals up there are as cute as you.” Elvis’ ran his hand through his hair, smirking at the way Jan blushed even harder. Their eyes were locked for a moment, and his forehead dropped on to hers as he murmured in a boyish voice.

“Sorry I didn't get to sign nothing for you, like ya wanted. Come back tomorrow?”

Jan nodded.  Elvis kissed her on the cheek and put her into Mack’s car, leaving her with a mouth stuck open in giddy disbelief the whole ride home. She pinched herself at least ten times to make sure she was really awake. That she had really been to Graceland and met Elvis Presley.  Then she fell asleep thinking of a pair of playful blue eyes glistening above her.

It was not long before Jan became a permanent fixture at Graceland. She would go home from work, change into a cocktail dress and take the bus to the Winchester Road stop.  Every time Travis or Vester let her through the gates she would shiver with anticipation for whatever the night would bring. It was more than just getting to be in the sunshine of Elvis’ affection, though that alone was something she lived for.  No, spending the evening at Graceland also meant trips to the skating rink, nights at the fairgrounds, bonfires, music, swimming or fireworks. It was like a never ending summer camp or a holiday resort, like the ones her cousins in New York told her about. And Jan never wanted to check out of this one.

During her days Jan would carry a little notebook around and write down clever things to say to Elvis that she thought would make him laugh, practicing them at her desk while she typed. She often was too shy to actually make these jokes. But she felt  more confident just having them ready when she went over. It was usually past midnight when she got home, but Jan just doubled her coffee, determined never to miss an evening at Graceland.

That is, until a big storm hit Memphis the following Saturday.

Jan considered taking a cab over, and called a few of the others to see what they were doing, but she couldn’t get through. The switch board operator told her the storm had knocked down several phone lines through town. Resigned to a night in, she had just made a kettle of hot tea and settled into watch Lawrence Welk when the phone rang and Frances told her Elvis was asking where she was.

The rain poured down on Jan’s cab all the way to Whitehaven. As usual, the curtains were all drawn for the family’s privacy, but tonight it made Graceland look more ominous and the exterior lights cast eerie shadows on a building with no visible life to the outside world.  Buckets of rain poured over Jan as she ran from the car to the door, and she stopped at the mirror in the entrance way to try and fix her face. She hated driving in the rain, even as a passenger, she was on edge the whole time and unable to relax until she got to her destination. It made her feel a bit off tonight, and then she felt silly for feeling off. Why, she could hear someone playing a Dean Martin song on the piano, the house was filled with enough music and laughter to block out the sound of the storm, and there she was, feeling like a stick in the mud. She shouldn’t have come. 

Jan was distracted from her thoughts of regret when she noticed that someone had put their cigarette out on the floor, staining the beautiful white carpet that lined the entry way. She had just bent down to pick it up when she heard Elvis’ voice, and looked up to see him leaning in the entryway with a few members of the gang.

“Silly lil mousy, scared of a few rain drops. Havta start calling you fraidy mouse.” He leaned his head back and the others joined in with his laughter. “Stead a fraidy cat, fraidy mouse.”

Jan’s eye twitched, and she looked into the mirror. She looked like a wet rat, not a mouse, and she felt like a silly child. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

“You’re not being fair, Elvis, have you even been outside today? I don’t have a car. And it’s a hurricane out there. If you thought about anyone other than yourself you’d know it wasn’t easy coming here.”

Elvis eyes widened and he jumped back as if Jan had slapped his face. “Not fair, huh? Don’t think of others, huh? I cain’t believe my goddamn ears. That’s all I do. You know all you have to do is call and I’d come get you.” His shoulders were back and his hands were at his hips as he roared to the ceiling. “Ain’t fair. aint’ fair. Well if you feel like that you should jus go on back home. No one wants you here anyhow.”

Jan could feel the tears welling up, and she ran past the staircase, through the kitchen and down to the basement so no one would see her cry. She had never seen Elvis loose his temper before. He could be cocky, teasing, oblivious, but now she knew what it was to feel the pummel of his brief, yet intense, bout of rage. Jan slammed her fists down on her knees, mad at herself for loosing her composure. She had immediately regretted what she said, and now she was sure that she had screwed everything up. Elvis would never let her come back. And the thought of loosing her membership in his special, secret club that she had only just began to experience brought forth another round of deep sobs.

Eventually, once she could breathe evenly without blubbering she found her compact and took a look and then promptly put it away. Her makeup was beyond repair. So instead, she began to think about how she could possibly leave without anyone noticing. Then she heard the floor squeak across the hall, and wandering toward the TV room to take a look. She stood in the doorway and looked around.

“Hello? Someone here?”

“Boo!” Elvis jumped out from the projection closet and grabbed Jan, eliciting a high scream that ricocheted through the rooms.

Elvis grinned and licked his thumb to clean off her runny makeup. “See, I was right. You really are a jumpy little fraidy mouse tonight. A pretty, silly, cute and wet lil baby mousy. Come on upstairs, honey, and let’s fix your face.”

Jan let herself slump into Elvis chest as he walked her up to his bathroom and sat her on the counter. Somehow Elvis had a drawer full of makeup, and she gave herself to him completely as he dried her hair and did her eye shadow.

“I’m sorry, Elvis. Bout earlier. I don’t know why I said that, you’re one of the most thoughtful people. It’s just. I’m just.” She sighed. “Driving in the rain and storms always scares me.”

“Aw, honey.” He rubbed her cheek, then puckered out his lips as a cue for her to do the same. “S’ok. Cain’t bare to stay sore at you. You know I ain’t gonna let nothing bad happen to you, baby. Next time, you call me and I’ll come get ya. You’ll always be safe by my side.”

Jan nodded as Elvis drew her to him, holding her tight as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. He began to get a goofy look on his face, as if he might kiss her on the mouth, when Mack knocked on the door and pulled Elvis aside.

“EP, George just called about a story in the evening paper. I gotta tell you, right away.”

Elvis nodded at Jan to go back downstairs, where she found the other guests exchanging hushed whispers and nervous glances. Walking through the various rooms, she finally found Arlene, Frances and a few of the other girls with Gladys on the back patio listening to the rain thump against the green metal awning.

“Oh Jan, we had to get some fresh air. It’s just too awful for words.”

“What is it Mrs. Presley? What’s happened?”

Heidi took her hand and pulled her into the corner.

“It’s Susie, the police found her body in the woods off the Nashville Road.”

Jan’s brow crinkled. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. I never met her, but  -  but, ugh, how horrible. What happened?”

“They think she was attacked by animal.” Heidi leaned in closer to whisper in Jan’s ear. “Her heart was torn clean out of her chest. Mrs. Presley is very upset, she was over here all the time.” Heidi squeezed Jan’s hand. Tight. “She was one of us.”

The rest of the night was a blur. Elvis  asked most of the guests to clear out before gathering the gang in his bedroom, where he cried openly and asked Alberta to bring them a coconut cake. Then they sat around eating on the bed, sharing their favorite memories of Susie. Heidi left at midnight, and at three Jan looked over at Arlene and Frances and asked if they shouldn’t go to. Elvis’ soulful eyes looked over from where he was slumped across his bed.

“Aw, don’t leave me babies. I can’t bear to be alone.”

Frances. “What, a slumber party with all of us in your bed tonight? What will people think?”

“Fuck ‘em. Nah, people know y’all are good lil virgins, so who cares what they think.” Elvis’ eyebrows went up for a split second when Jan looked away at the word virgin. But if he thought anything of it, he kept it to himself.

The girls went into the bathroom to change in to some of Elvis’ pajamas shirts and get ready for bed. Jan cautiously asked if the others had ever slept over before.

“Oh yeah. A few times.” Arlene handed Jan her comb. “It’s all very innocent. You know Elvis, he hates to be alone. ”

Frances nodded, chiming in. “Yeah, hanky panky is the last thing on his mind. He’s proud that we’re good girls. And when he finds out someone isn’t -”

“Gosh I feel so bad.” Arlene looked at her self despondently as she finished rolling her hair. “I thought that was why Susie wasn’t coming back. I thought she had seduced him in a weak moment, and then he couldn’t bear to have her around anymore knowing she was fast.  Boy oh boy, I guess I was wrong.”

“You didn’t know, who would have thought she was dead? Honestly, your theory was the most logical explanation.” Frances rubbed Arlene’s shoulder as they consoled each other.

Jan smiled sympathetically, feeling very awkward because she wanted to share their grief but couldn’t, not really. She looked out into the bedroom at where Elvis lay in the center of his large mattress, staring off into space and wondered if he really banished girls after he slept with them. It seemed an anathema to everything she had learned over the last week about how kind and warm and instantly familiar and sweet he was with women.

Once they were ready for bed, the girls climbed in next to and Elvis he grinned a big crooked grin when Jan scuttled over to claim his right arm. The four of them cuddled in together, talking about Susie, and then musing about the things they wanted to do before they died. Arlene wanted to see the pyramids, Frances wanted to own a horse and Elvis said he wanted to go on a safari in Africa. When it was Jan’s turn, she murmured that this was her dream, to have friends who loved and embraced her so openly. And then she hid her face in Elvis’ chest, blushing as the others cooed over her.

The rain continued, and eventually the conversation moved on to happier topics, such as what people probably eat for dinner in heaven. Spaghetti and meatballs, if Arlene was to be believed. Every so often, Elvis would lean into and start kissing the side of Arlene or Jan’s forehead absentmindedly. Then Frances would claim she was left out and Elvis would make a big production of kissing them all. And then there would be another round of giggles and tickles and little kicks under the covers.

Jan wasn’t quite sure what time she fell asleep, but when she woke up she was nestled into Elvis armpit and the others were gone. Thick black curtains covered the windows and made it impossible to know what time of day it was from the sunlight, at least. Jan hoped it was Sunday morning but she suspected it may already be the afternoon. Pushing her cares aside, she leaned further into Elvis warm body and moving her hand over the cool silk of his white monogrammed pajamas, trying memorize exactly how this felt so she could play it back in her mind’s eye when ever she wanted

“Uh oh, looks like there’s a lil mouse in ma bed.”

Jan felt Elvis’ lips on her forehead, and turned to see his eyes dancing under half open lids. She let out a little snort as she pulled herself closer to him, savoring the cozy cocoon of sheets, blankets and Elvis that enveloped her.

“I wonder where the others are.”

“Probably downstairs stuffing their gob, if I know Arlene.”

Jan swatted Elvis playfully, and he chuckled, stretching his arm out around her with a yawn. She sat up to read the clock on the mantle, and thought of all the little things she had told herself she would do before work tomorrow. Elvis grabbed her pulled her back into his chest.

“Ughhhh, it’s almost 2 in the afternoon.”

“Huh, so, why hurry at this point?” He grinned and caressed her stomach, leaning on his side to hover over her.

“I’m glad ya here, lil gal. Glad we can comfort each other during hard times. An I’m glad you been coming over,  you one of my sweet lil girls now, Jan." He kissed her cheek, his lip spouting. "Now, you gotta promise you won't go on no dates when I’m outta town, it would break my heart.”

Jan nodded up, her mouth hanging open. “No, you can trust me Elvis. I won’t see anyone else.”

A lock of his black hair dangled over his forehead, and Jan flinched when Elvis’ hand moved over the low curve of her belly.

“Honey, you know you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about with me, though. I would never hurt you, or do anything wrong to you.”

Jan nodded. “I know - I just - I guess I’m just not used to being around men like this very often. But I like it. I like being around you.”

“Huh, well, that’s good. I don’t want you spending time with anyone else, lil mouse. You know I meant it when I say I’m glad all you girls are good lil virgins. You know I’m not like most guys, I respect you.” His fingers smoothed over the hair above her widow’s peak. “So you ain’t gotta worry bout that.”

Jan broke their eye contact and looked up at the dark blue ceiling.

“What - what is it, honey? Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed talking bout, should be proud that you’re a good girl.”

“I’m - I.” Jan hesitated and met Elvis eyes as she rolled over the pillow and looked into the mirror, watching his face as he nuzzled his chin into her from behind. He ran his fingers over her matching navy blue pajama shirt.

“What’s the word, lil mouse? You know you can tell me anything?”

Jan rolled back into him, murmuring into the white lining above his collar.

“I’m just afraid you won’t want me around anymore. You - the gang - spending time here. It’s the best part of my day. But I don’t want to lie to you, Elvis.” Her voice got even lower and she trembled. “I’m not a virgin.”

Elvis tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “Ya not?”

Jan slowly shook her head. “But - but I’m not here to try to seduce with you.”

He let out a loud cackle.

“No? Don’t find me attractive, huh?”

“No, I do. It’s just that I know - I ‘ve heard. That is, they say once a girl goes all the way with you, she’s not allowed to come back.”

Elvis’ brows furrowed and Jan wasn’t sure if he was hurt or about to laugh again until chuckle rang out. “What? That’s the stupidest goddamn thing I eva heard. How would any of those lil hens know, anyway?”

“I - I - I don’t know, I never asked.” Jan’s voice trailed off as Elvis chuckled into her cheek as he kissed her.

“Well, don’ worry baby, I ain’t trying to take advantage of ya, virgin or not.” His hands roved over her sides as he looked deep into her eyes. “Man oh man, mousy gal, look so sweet and innocent though, never would ‘ave guessed.”

Jan felt a tingly warmth start to coil in her belly and she gasped as Elvis rolled his nose over hers. He moved closer, his hand roving under her pajama shirt and trailing under her bare breast.

“Thanks for not taking advantage of me, either way.” Jan muttered, slightly distracted by the nips at her ear and the succession of slow and firm kisses that followed on her neck.

“Naw, honey. Wouldn’t dream a it. Furthest thing from my mind.”

Jan didn’t know what would happen the next she arrived at the Graceland gate house, she half expected Uncle Vester to turn her away. But he waved her through, and she chided herself for being silly. Elvis was so kind and warm, she could never imagine him banishing her after what they had shared. He had been so sweet, so kind, so gentle. He had conjured a pleasure from deep within her that she had never experience before, and she felt as if she had only truly been with a man for the first time when she was with him. Still, as Jan walked up the hill to the house she vowed to resist the urge to experience that pleasure again. She didn’t want to loose her friendships with the other girls. And so, as she stepped in the door and removed her coat and gloves, she swore to herself she would never go all the way with Elvis Presley. Again.

Solemn oaths, however, are so very difficult to keep. And Jan found herself changing her mind the minute Elvis whispered in her ear to sneak up stairs and wait for him in his bed room when Mack went to drive the other members of the gang home. Heidi, Frances and Arlene said nothing, but Jan could tell they knew something was up. They must, have, she reasoned. Especially once Elvis started picking her up and dropping her off himself. Sometimes he would take her home alone, but when he picked her up most evenings he would park and honk outside her ladies boarding house with some of the other guys and ask if they had any available rooms for Lamar. Jan caught Arlene staring at her out of the corner of her eye all the next week, and then Heidi trapped her on the landing that Friday.

“Just be careful. ‘Member: keep your knees closed, that’s the only way to make it last now that you’re one of his girls.”

Jan’s brow furrowed “But we’re all his girls.”

“You know what I mean, Jan. Anita is coming back from New York in a few days, I hope you know what you are doing.”

Jan swallowed hard as she watched Heidi descend down the staircase. Had she just been a bed warmer during Anita’s absence? Was there a way to go back to how it had been at first, when the most she did in bed with Elvis was have pillow fights and tickling kisses? But then when he squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb along the side of her palm she was powerless to stop herself from answering his silent call and going to wait for him in his bedroom.

It was Sunday, Elvis was going back on tour the next day. It was her last night with him and Jan ran out of her apartment the second she saw the winged tips on the back of Elvis’ white Eldorado outside her window. She slid down the banister and jumped off the end, soliciting a humpf and a stern glance from the boarding house matron at the front desk. Jan giggled. She couldn’t help it. But her gait slowed when she noticed the single blonde bob in the driver’s seat.

“Why hey there, Miss Janice, how are you?”

Jan frowned and leaned into the car. “Looking for me Anita?”

The blonde’s a tight fake smile grew across her face. Jan couldn’t help but notice that she had bags under her eyes and the rosy color that had animated her creamy pink skin when they first met had faded. Anita no longer had that radiant glow, she looked sickly and pale. This didn’t seem to dampen her energy, and she giggled and patted the seat beside her.

“Come on, honey, thought we could go for a lil ol drive, have a lil ol talk.” She winked. “You know, girl to girl.”  Jan sighed and rubbed her neck, looking around as she considered what she should do. What was the worst that could happen? Anita might yell at her, she might start a scene with Elvis later. Maybe Jan could stop her from doing that, could talk some sense into her or even convince her she was wrong. So Jan took a deep breath and got into the car.

“How was New York?”

They made small talk as Anita guided her car around the block and drove further from the lights of downtown Memphis into the dark, black night. “In the Still of The Night” came on the radio as the Eldorado made its way through the outskirts of Memphis. After a while, Jan stopped trying to come up with things to say, and awkwardly started to suggest maybe they should get back, unless there was something specific Anita wanted to discuss. Anita turned again to smile, and pulled the car on to the side of the road. She shut off the engine and Jan suddenly felt a tremor of fear rise up her spine. An owl hooted out in the woods, off beyond the shoulder. Other than that, there was no one around.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Anita. I thought we were friends.”

Anita shifted in her seat to look at her directly, and Jan could swear she saw a flash of yellowish green in Anita’s eyes.

“Why you must think I was born yesterday, to be friends with a lil tramp that goes doing the hanky panky with my man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jan whispered, her voice stilted and unsure as she blinked at the ground. She shivered when Anita scooted closer along the front seat and leaned into Jan’s face, sniffing her cheek.

“Heavens to betsy, honey. I can still smell him on you.”

Jan began to mutter that was not even possible, but her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard in disbelief as she watched Anita’s mouth grow wider and wider and her teeth extend into a row of sharp daggers. Jan tried and failed to find the door handle, so instead, she opted to crawl out through the open window. Somehow Anita ran around the front of the car lightening fast and managed to tackled Jan to the ground before she could run. Her small body had the strength of ten men as she held Jan down by her shoulders on the cold dirt that lined the dark road.

“Please, please, I’ll stop, I promise. Cross my heart.”

Anita smiled down at Jan and her yellow eyes burned bright in the black night.

“Bless your heart, that’s just what I’m after too.”

Then, with a flash of her smile, Anita ripped through Jan’s chest with her teeth and devoured her still-beating heart in one gulp, savoring the way it throbbed down her throat. Jan’s screams echoed through the forest and down the Nashville road, but there was no human around for miles and miles to hear them.

Heidi, Arlene and the others looked for Jan at the gate over the following days and weeks. Once or twice, they thought they saw her walking down the street from the bus stop, but they were wrong.

“She must have slept with him.” Arlene explained, smoothing her skirt as they walked around the pool.

“I warned her, I said, once girls go all the way with him, they never come back.” Heidi tutted, looking across the patio and nodding her head at Anita. “Gosh, she looks even prettier than the last time. Must have had more work down when she was ‘at that job in New York.’”

“Oh fooey, to hell with Anita Wood.”

OK, but seriously, look at these photos from before and after she started dating Elvis. You cannot tell me Anita wasn't gobbling up the hearts of innocent gate girls when Elvis wasn't looking!

Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......

I am working on at least one more or two more Elvis-o-ween fics so let me know if you want to be tagged. For now just tagging randomly. So also feel free to tell me to fuck off.

taglist:

@whositmcwhatsit @arrolyn1114 @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @lookingforrainbows @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis @ab4eva @kingdomforapony @ashtag6887 @dkayfixates @eliseinmemphis @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @louisejoy86 @i-r-i-n-a-a @horror-movieshoes @everythingelvispresley @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @notstefaniepresley @richardslady121 @crash-and-cure

[kairithemang0]

tell me your fluffy gay spies headcanons, we're all going to need them after curtwen week

Ahhhh yes thank you!!! I love talking about my fluff headcanons

Every year for Curt's birthday Owen buys him wine and sends it to his home. Sometimes Curt's away on missions but he'll come back to the backage next to his door. Owen never mentioned it, Curt never asks, but they both know who it's from. Curt saves that wine for the next time he sees Owen, Owen usually recognizes it's the same wine. Curt doesn't know how Owen got his birthday, he assumes it's on a file Owen has about him or he told him it and forgot it. Owen never told Curt his birthday, but on one of their missions together he told him. Curt felt so shitty that he never knew that Owen never cared to tell him, especially after all the wine Owen had gotten him over the years. Curt took him out, bought him dinner, probably had a shit ton of wine. Curt would send him letters on his birthday, it was always simple and he couldn't gush over Owen in them out of fear of them ending up in the wrong hands, so Curt writes a different one that he keeps until he can give it to Owen in person. He slips it into Owen's suitcase when he's in the shower and Owen finds it when he's home. They never mention these to each other, it's just a silent tradition

Angst below cut :) I can't resist

Curt's birthday comes around, it's 1959. Owen died a few months ago, and he sees a bottle of wine on the steps. It's not from Owen, but from Cynthia. She doesn't know about the wine thing, but she just sends it as a gift with a kind note attached, telling Curt to get his ass back to work. For a moment before he sees the note, Curt's heart breaks. For just a second he thought Owen was alive, that he was out there, that he was trying to contact him and make things ok. Even after he read the note, he spent his birthday crying by the phone drinking the wine straight from the bottle in misery

[themultifandomgal]

Jay- Wedding Day

Jay and I planed the wedding together for 6 months time. Of course the only thing he hasn't had input in is my wedding dress. I smooth down my dress as Natalie places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Erin gushes

"Thank you, but so do you girls" I look at Erin through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?" Kim asks

"Yeah" I smile turning around to see her

"I'll go let your dad know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later my dad knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent dad you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my only child is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Gabby my maid of honour says stopping both me and my dad from crying

"I think Jay is waiting" Kim places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" dad holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Jay I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited" I smile at my dad. Finally the doors open and in walk Gabby and Will, my maid of honour and Jays best man. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally me and dad. Dad walks me to Jay who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Dad gives Jay my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to my mom

"Wellcome" the priest starts "today we are here to whiteness the marriage and bond between YN and Jay. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Jay or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Jay and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Jay says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Will steps forward with both of our rings. Jay then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" Jay then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Jay and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Jay and I had our first dance then I had the father daughter dance while Jay danced with my mom. Now I'm stood chatting with the girls

"So are you doing to tell us where your honeymoon is?" Gabby asks me as she hands me a drink

"We're going to the Bahamas for two weeks"

"I'm so jealous" Kim whines

"I'll let Kevin know to take you" I laugh

"Can I have everyone's attention" Will says in front of a microphone. I make my way over to Jay who's holding two glasses of champagne "I'd like to raise a toast to my brother and now sister in-law Jay and YN. I knew YN was the one for you Jay the moment she came to the hospital after you had the car crash. I told you that day not to let her go and for the first time you listened to my advice" we all chuckle at Will's joke "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love I've never seen you have before. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, and I'm really looking forward to being an uncle, hint hint" again this makes everyone laugh "thank you YN for making my brother one happy man" he raises his glass in the air "to YN and Jay"

"To YN and Jay" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to Jay and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

[toxicanonymity]

Hot Topic \ NSFW 18+

2k \ mall kiosk!Corey x alt/goth!Reader

Pre-michael, post-accident. Same Corey as the one where you dominate him in the abandoned Sears (personally I prefer that one lmao) but different reader. Yeah this isn't Shape Corey but I wanted to use my nifty Shaperil banner. Also, I gave up editing this bc it had already been in my drafts for so long so I hope it's readable. 🖤

-

You work at Hot Topic in the declining mall where Corey works at a kiosk. You start dropping by to say hi, then you start hanging out around the mall. He's really shy at first, and skeptical of your attention. But then, the more you share about yourself, and the more he gets to see how little you care what other people think, it's like he imprints on you.

You eat lunch together in the food court, and take your breaks at the same time so you can go on walks together. In some ways, you’re an unlikely pair. Corey just wants to blend in, and his understated, layered apparel is quite the contrast to your edgy, gothic style. But you also have things in common. You both love Thai food and hate when it’s too bright outside. You both like horror. You’re both open minded. You're both social outsiders, although for you, it’s more of a choice. He really admires your ability to not care about judgmental strangers. That’s not something you have in common when you first meet.

-

You're sitting in the food court together one day and a band kid comes up and calls him a psycho. Corey doesn’t react, but it obviously gets to him. He squirms and turns red.

"Ok, loser," you say to the bully.

“Are you a psycho too, or just a freak?” the band kid responds.

“Probably both, by your standards.”

The band kid just stands there like he doesn't know what to say next since you aren’t affected by his words.

You shrug at the guy and ask, “Are you done?”

“Have fun fucking that psycho, you slut.”

“Oh, I will.”

Corey blushes and shrunk into his jacket. You smile saucily at him.

"Thanks," Corey says. He marvels at how you handled it. It sounds like normally he's harassed for a lot longer. You explain that the less you seem to care, the less people bother you.

"I know it's easier said than done," you say. "But, fake it til you make it, and you might be surprised."

This seems to make an impact on Corey, and his confidence increases in the following months. As his confidence grows, the dynamic between you starts to shift. It starts to feel less platonic and more like a flirtationship. He compliments your clothes a lot, tells you how good you look in certain dresses.

-

One day, you get some bad news that Hot Topic is finally closing down. You’re especially disappointed because you’re going to miss seeing Corey at work. You tell him about the store closing, and he seems a lot sadder than you expect. When you hug him after lunch that day, it’s like his strong arms don’t want to let you go. You invite him to come over to your place after work and he perks up.

When Corey comes over, you make dinner together and talk for a long time, chat with your roommate for a few minutes, then decide to watch something. Your bedroom has a projector so you lie on your bed and watch the new Chucky series on Hulu. It’s nice being close to him away from work and being able to relax. His arm feels like it should always be around you. He keeps looking around your room. He’s mesmerized by all your gothic and punk decor.

“You’re so cool,” he gushes.

“You’re cool too, Corey,” you say.

“I feel like I want to BE you,” he laughs. “Maybe I just like you that much,” he adds.

You look up at him and say “I like you that much, too.”

He smiles shyly and says, “Nah, if you knew how much I liked you. . .”

You cut him off with a kiss. It’s the first time your lips meet, but they behave like long-lost lovers. His large hands pull you on top of him then caress your thighs. He marvels at you as you straddle him in your black leggings and the chains on your skirt jingle. He looks utterly captivated. He runs his hands over the lace on your shirt and you take it off. Then he sees your tattoos for the first time.

“You’re just. . . oh my god,” he says as he strokes a tattoo. Then, his eyes glue to your belly button piercing.

His hips lift into you and your mouth falls open at how big and hard he is. You grind into him as you make out. You want so much more, but he has to leave to get home. It’s nearly impossible to pry yourselves apart, but at least you know you’ll see him tomorrow at the mall.

“You think I’m kidding,” he says as he puts on his jacket. “I wanna be you. I’m gonna get your same tattoos and everything,” he smiles. You laugh, then you have a long kiss goodbye.

-

Back in Hot Topic, your manager brings out a few boxes of clothes and jewelry that won’t be put out for sale before the store closes to see if anyone wants them. Luckily for your roommate, there’s a lot of Small and Medium stuff. You’re the only one who expresses interest in the clothes, so you get a whole box. Corey helps carry it to your car on your break. When you close the hatchback, he pins you up against it and you share a steamy kiss. His hands rove your sheer, black dress, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You manage to peel yourselves apart to go back to work, but make plans for him to come over after his shift.

“It’s too bad Claire’s closed,” he says as you walk back into the mall. “Did they do belly button piercings?”

It’s fun when you have running jokes. Back in the store, you grab a studded bracelet for him that matches yours.

-

You get home and your roommate helps you unload the boxes from work. There are some duplicate clothes, so you take those to your room to sell or give away later. You organize them in stacks on your bed to see what you have and don’t have and what the different sizes are. Not much of it is new to you. You get to preview the clothes and jewelry early, so you already have most of the items you would want, including the dress you’re wearing.

Corey comes over, and you give him the bracelet and he loves it. He laughs but also seems to like it non-ironically once he immediately puts it on. It barely fits his thick wrist and makes his veins look extra sexy.

“I love being you,” he says as he pulls you in for a kiss. “Do you feel this sexy all the time?”

“Pretty much,” you shrug.

When you go to your bedroom, you drape the extra clothes on the back of a chair to get them off your bed and out of the way.

“Wait. Is that the dress you’re wearing?”

It is, and it’s in your roommate’s size.

He raises his eyebrows. “Cool,” he says. You turn on the show, but it isn’t long before you start making out. His eyes drift to the dress.

“You wanna try it on?” you ask, mostly teasing. But the way his cock swells when you ask that . . .

His eyes go dark and he gets on top of you. He kisses you ferociously, with his massive hands all over your dress, tracing every line of it between groping you.

Now you can’t get the image out of him in that dress out of your head. Muscles bulging.

You take off his shirt and you’re blown away by what’s hiding underneath. You knew he was strong from all the times you’ve hugged, but to see the way his pecs and shoulders move as he looms over you on the bed, and his thick biceps engulfing you as he brings his mouth to your neck.

You close your eyes and your primal need for him blossoms as he sucks your neck. When you open your eyes, your’re looking over his shoulder, watching his back muscles move sensually. You moan softly.

Now you’re the one whose eyes keep drifting to the dress. He comes face-to-face with you again and follows your gaze, then the swell in his khakis grows even harder against you. He takes off his glasses and puts them on your nightstand then scoots down the bed.

“I bet you’d look hot,” you tell him, looking at the dress.

He begins to slide your dress up.

“SO hot," you add.

"Really?" He asks, bringing a massive hand between your legs.

His knuckles make contact through your leggings and you shudder in pleasure as he feels how moist they are. "That hot, huh?" He teases you.

"I can check tomorrow for your size," you offer, breathing heavily.

He buries his head between your legs, caressing the fabric of your dress on your torso as he gnaws at your pussy through your leggings and his nose digs into your clit. His fingers curl into the waistband and he begins to peel them down. He sits back on his haunches as you lift your knees and help take them off.

Your eyes drift to the clothes again.

“What size is it?” he asks. You sit up and reach for his khakis, then take them off frantically.

“Women’s medium,” you say.

He slides his massive hands under your dress again and spreads it out to see how stretchy he is. He shrugs and does a double take when he looks up at you. You must look absolutely feral.

“Maybe it'll fit as a shirt?" he asks. You know it'll be too small, but you don't stop him. He reaches over and grabs the dress.

Your bottom lip creeps under your top teeth as he begins to put it on. Luckily it's a very stretchy material. First he puts on the arms. His biceps look like they might burst out. The mesh is stretched so tight it looks more his skin color than black. The geometric pattern of straight overlapping lines curves in all the right places over his muscles. Then he pulls it over his head. His curly hair springs out at the top, then his nose, his strong jaw, and thick neck with the hottest, bulging vein.

He starts to unfold it down over his pecs and its stretch. Your whole body feels weak with desire. It glides a little easier over his waist and abs, and then it reaches his briefs. . . God help you. The bulge. The meaty thighs. He sits up on his knees and manages to pull it barely over his briefs.

“Holy shit,” you say. “It looks better on you than me.”

“Not possible,” he says. You nod toward the full-length mirror and watch him walk over to it. My god, the ass on this man.

He rotates and looks at himself then takes a deep breath as his gaze returns to you and he palms himself through the layers.

"Hot as fuck," you say.

"You know what's hotter though?" He prowls toward you on the bed.

"Nothing?" you ask

"Being you. Feeling what you feel,” he says.

You reach under his obscenely short dress and pull down his briefs. His stiff cock springs out and rests outside the dress sending a stab of need through your gut.

"What about being me, inside me?" You grab his cock, yearning to be filled by it.

Almost as soon as you make contact, he shudders and his balls tighten. His cock pulses in your hand, his silky cum splattering all over the bottom of the dress, then gurgling into your fist.

Your face burns for him, but he’s totally at ease. That’s hot.

-

(a/n). Corey coming instantly or even in his pants has been a real hot topic as of late, so, ya know... Lol. Thank you for reading 🖤

@ethanhoewke @wolvesandvampires @rebel-blue

[obsessedwithitall]

Speak Now (Eddie Munson au)

I have been on a month long Taylor Swift kick so this is came from Speak Now. I've got a few bits I took out so I may write some extra bits to add them as sides... see how I feel. Theres also a few flashbacks, if its confusing I'm sorry.

Enjoy 🩷

Word count: 2.2k

Read part 2 here

****

“You are married. You can kiss now.”

“Ewww.” The boys all groaned dramatically and the girls giggled. You were all stood behind the tall wall on the playground, you holding hands with Toby. Becky held some daisies she'd picked from the grass in one hand, and had a handful of freshly cut grass for confetti in the other. This was the best 7 year old wedding this school had ever seen.

“Stop the wedding. You can't get married.” Eddie threw his hand in the air.

You stamped your foot and protested, dropping Toby’s hand. “No, we’re already married.”

“I saw on TV, that someone goes, “stop getting married, he’s dead.””

“How can my husband be dead, he’s here?”

“I don't know, it was on TV.” He shrugged.

***

The metal bar burned your hand as you spun upside down on it causing your plaits to fall away from their normal position.

Eddie’s face crowded yours. “Why did you marry Toby and not me?”

You flipped yourself the right way up and pulled your dress down. “You went to the bathroom and Toby asked me.”

“I asked first.”

“But Toby has been my boyfriend all day so I had to marry him.”

You both sat down on two wooden steps and you started picking at the grass beneath them. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes until the bell rang for you to go back to the classroom.

Eddie tapped your shoulder in the line. “I’ll marry you tomorrow, ok?”

You nodded. “Ok.”

***

Growing up was hard. Keeping in touch with friends was hard. After school finished you thought you'd be friends forever but things get in the way. You moved away for college, you forgot to call, they forgot to call. Nothing happened you just grew apart.

You came back from college and your mum managed to get you a job in her church café. You weren’t particularly religious but they basically let you pick your own shifts and they paid decently. One thing you loved about your job was that you were able to sneak off and look at the events happening. You did always enjoy seeing people in their best clothes, all the family and friends together for big life changes.

This one particular Saturday, there was a big wedding in. When the café was empty and you’d spent the last 20 minutes cleaning the same table, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to lock the door and take a peak next door.

The church yard was bustling with people trying to find their friends and meeting family members they hadn’t seen for years. There was a face you recognised, it wasn’t a huge town, that was going to happen, but this was your old school friend.

“Y/N!! You’re here! I was waiting for you to turn up.” Becky hugged you tightly, “How you doing?”

You prised yourself from her grasp and stood back to look at her dress. “Yeah, I'm good. You look lovely.”

“Thank you so much. You look...” she paused, looking you up and down.

“This is my work clothes. I’m technically working at the moment but I just popped in from next door. The cafe will be ok for a bit.”

“Thank god, I was worried this was a choice and you’d lost your mind.”

A few more old school friends wandered over, greeting Becky, probably not quite recognising you after these few years. All your old school group was there and a lot more you knew but weren’t friends with. It was strange.

“Is someone from school getting married?”

“What? Y/N.... you don't know....”Toby questioned.

“Meg. Meg is getting married.” Becky shouted, giving the boy across from her a warning look.

****

“How beautiful is this?” Meg gushed. “I want my wedding just like this.”

You had known Meg for years. She was always in the background at school, not really hanging around after class. Annoying was probably a good word for her without being too mean. She was pushy and demanding usually got what she wanted in the end. So it was no doubt that she'd get the pink wedding of her dreams. Unluckily her cousin was marrying your cousin, so when she saw you and suggested you sit together, you were so glad your mum had said Eddie could come along too.

“This is nice, but it's very...pink.” From the pink ribbons and flowers on the pews, to the pink carpet down the aisle and the pink bridesmaids dresses and even your cousin, the groom, in a pink suit, it was all a bit much.

“When I get married it won't be anything like this.” Eddie whispered.

You laughed in disbelief. “What?”

“Can you imagine me getting married in a church?”

“No offence, but I can't imagine you getting married at all.”

“At all?”

“Yeah, you’ve never seemed like the type.”

“You think I'm that hopeless?”

“No, just one to be a bit wild and free. Maybe if the right person came along.”

Eddie went quiet for a second. He looked away from you towards the front of the church, thinking about something.

“I think sometimes the right person is already there. We just got to realise it.”

What was that suppose to mean? “You've got somebody in mind, have you?” you played it off as a joke but you were secretly desperate to know more about this mystery person Eddie was planning his life with.

“Maybe.” You’re heart ached a little. Not only was he planning a future wedding but he’d already thought of who it was to, too. He’d put more thought into his future than his no cares attitude made out. If only that future could be yours too.

“Well, you better invite me to the wedding. I want to see that with my own eyes.” You smiled, hoping this was the time he'd confess his secret love for you and you'd be living the wedding of your dreams marrying your childhood crush.

“Don’t worry. You'll have a front row seat.” Confirmed, not you.

“Shhh.” Meg scolded, “I can't hear the organ music.”

***

After the reception, while seeing the bride and groom off Meg popped up next to you. “I haven’t really spoken to Eddie before. He’s quite cute really, isn’t he?”

“Sorry?”

“Eddie, I like him.” She whispered. “He’s cute.”

Eddie caught your eye across the path and rolled his eyes when he saw you’d got trapped with Meg again. You tried not to laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Is he single?”

Her brashness surprised you. He was but you really didn’t want Meg to stop him being. “I don’t know if you’re really his...type.”

“We’ll see.” And she smiled a sickly sweet smile.

****

The church was....the only word you could use to describe it was pink. Very pink. Looks like Meg got the wedding she wanted, you laughed to yourself. Guests were milling around seeming to look for seats.

“Come sit with us.” Becky pulled on your arm.

You shook your head. “I'm not actually invited, I'm just having a look, I can't stay.”

“They won't know and you’re here now anyway, just come sit with me.”

Against your better judgement you say down next you her at the aisle end of the pew, close enough to the back that you could dash out whenever you needed without being noticed much.

“Eddie’s here.” Someone behind you said.

Before you could fully turn around he was in aisle next to you. After all these years he looked even better than before. Hair done all neatly, very smart in a suit , nicer than anything you knew he owned...shit...was this his wedding? Was Eddie actually getting married? Front row seat my arse, he hadn’t even invited you.

Eddie didn't see you as he made his way to the front of the church pulling a tight lipped smile at people saying hello to him. You were glad he hadn’t seen you. He hadn’t invited you, he obviously didn't want you there. You regretted not exactly staying in touch, but you didn't think he was that mad about it. He clearly was.

“He looks very smart.” Your voice came out in a whisper.

“Meg looks like a pastry. Like a huge danish.” One of the other girls from school told Becky quietly. “I did her make up and ran out of that room as quickly as I could. I was not spending any more time with her than I had to. She kept yelling at everyone. I get its stressful, but calm down.”

You laughed. But inside you were breaking a little.

****

“I feel stupid.” Your arms flapped down at your sides against the poofball skirt of the bright green dress you’d pulled to try.

“You look stupid.” Eddie chuckled from his chair in the dressing room mirror.

“I needed Becky for this not you.”

“She’s at busy working. I’m helping.”

“You’re not helping, you're just laughing at me. You don't know anything about dresses.” He didn’t. You weren’t sure why he’d even agreed to come. You hadn’t seen each other in months, you being at college now and him still being at high school.

“What did your mom want?”

“She said whatever I felt comfortable in.”

You stepped back into the changing room and sighed. There was only a couple dresses left. Your mom had sprung this wedding on you very quickly. You’d known Derek for years. You know he’d been looking in on your mom after you went to college. You even knew they’d been out on dates. But you didn’t know it was this serious. Your summer home from college was meant to be spent with your friends having a good time, not helping your mum plan her second wedding to a man you didn’t really like.

Eddies voice interrupted your thoughts. “You going to do the I object thing?”

“People don’t do that in real life.”

“You don't like your stepdad, do you?”

“No.... not really. But Derek makes my mom happy. And I suppose he’s not an awful guy. As long as someone’s happy surely you should leave them alone.”

“I missed you.” Why did he need to do that now?

Stepping out the doors, Eddie didn’t say anything. Bad. He never not got something to say, you thought.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes and you turned to go back to get your clothes on, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“You look beautiful.”

You did. Eddie stood behind you looking in the mirror at you in the dress. He didn't make eye contact and you were thankful because you would have been to embarrassed to ever look at him again. His face was full of love and admiration, and you weren’t quite sure you deserved it.

You pulled the tag out to the side to get a look at the price.

“Oh my god. My mom’s going to kill me.”

“What?”

“It’s 80$.”

“But you look so pretty.”

“Ed, I can't afford this. I need to take it off right now.”

He put both hands on your shoulders and held you to stop you running away. “I’ll pay for it.”

You shook your head violently. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, you can't do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need that money. You don't have 80$.”

“You don't know how much money I have.”

“I don’t exactly but I know you don't have 80$.”

“Whatever your mom gave you, I'll pay the rest. It won't be 80$ and you get the dress.”

His thumbs stroked your shoulders and he span you around to the mirror again. You took another look at yourself in the dress. It was perfect. It was exactly what you'd wanted, you're mom would be happy...no, you couldn't do it.

“I’ll meet you by the register.”

And that was that. You couldn’t, but Eddie would.

****

The music started up and there was no chance for you to leave now. You were trapped. The bridesmaids started down the aisle with the groomsmen and then Meg with her father, looking exactly like a danish. Eddie looked as if he would vomit.

“Are they happy at least?” your eyes still on Eddie's face but the question aimed at Becky.

“Personally...I think this is a mistake. I told him, but you know what he's like. He only would ever listen to you.”

“Well, he’s marrying her so she can't be that bad.”

She disagreed. “This is all her. I don't think he wants to get married. There’s also a rumour she sleeping with her dentist.”

Your mind raced through the eyes of the crowd, looking for anyone who knew Eddie who looked like they thought this was a good idea. Why hadn't he told you? Why hadn't anyone else told you? It was too late now...he’d made a decision.

The pastor began his speech but it was all a blur until he got to the bit everyone was waiting for.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Everyone took a breath. Complete stillness. It was as if everyone expected someone to say something.

Becky gave you an almighty push and you fell onto your knees in the aisle. Everyone turned and looked to where the noise had come from. You stood back up quickly but Becky moved down the pew so there was no longer anywhere for you to sit.

“Y/N...” Eddie spoke quietly. Your eyes shot to his. He smiled. A genuine smile. He looked...relieved.

“Y/N?” the pastor questioned.

Your brain returned to you. “Sorry, I...” What were you going to say? You turned and began walking out, you weren’t even invited, why had you sat down, you should’ve just left. His face when he saw you though...

You stopped. Maybe.

****

Read part 2 here

Thank you for reading. Any feedback or comments are 100% welcome 🩷🩷

[darthmaclunkey]

the three of you who read my posts may remember me gleefully posting about my first ever blood donation a few months ago and how stupendously well it went. well I donated a second time this week and it did……..not go stupendously well

so after sitting in the waiting room and chugging water, a nurse takes me into one of the wee rooms to check my haemoglobin. she takes three samples from my finger, frowns, and is like “it’s low, but it’s only just under the limit. we can take another sample directly from the vein which may be more accurate, but if you’d like to stop and try another day, that’s totally fine.”

I’m like no let’s do this! test my vein! so she gives me a plaster for my finger and sends me into another room.

another nurse draws blood from the vein in my other arm and tests it, and it’s looking good, well within the limits. we’re cooking with gas! I now have two plasters! I get taken through to the donation room and given a chair.

everything’s going smoothly. I make a joke about how I’m just here to collect plasters and tell the next nurse I’m going to try and break my earlier record of being the fastest woman donor at the centre. she tells me I have good veins and I’m like yay :) being excited about having good veins is a very normal thing to be :)

(jokes aside, it was all so smooth and chill - like 99% of my experiences with the nhs, the staff were all so professional, communicative, and so lovely)

anyway, I donate the bag of blood (still fast, but not beating my previous record). the needle comes out, and the nurse gets me to hold down gauze and apply pressure while she sorts the donation out. she comes back with a plaster, except when I stop pressing down on the needle entry site, blood comes gushing back out again.

she’s very calm about it, says no problem, and grabs a fresh bit of gauze and applies some pressure herself. I’m sat patiently waiting for my post-donation carton of apple juice. my little treat :)

except then the same thing happens again. I am still bleeding. we get fresh gauze and more pressure applied. another nurse wanders over and is like “wow, you just don’t want to stop donating, do you?”

I laugh and I’m like “I guess not!” but then I start to feel very funny.

“by the way,” I say, “I think I’m about to faint”

the first nurse very calmly says “ok” and flips the chair back so I’m lying upside down. I pretty much instantly feel better and tell her this.

she goes “I’m glad you told me you were feeling dizzy. your lips were going blue, btw.” #slay

by this point I’ve soaked through the plaster she applied, so she changes it and we reckon I’ve stopped bleeding. she sits me back up and lets me have the apple juice (yippee!!!) and then asks me to just sit and chill until I’m confident I’m ok. there’s no phone signal in the donor centre and the wifi is broken, and I finished reading my book on my lunch break, so I spend a very calm 10 mins looking at my shoes and sipping apple juice before I tell her I feel fine and I’m going to head out.

she still looks a bit worried, so she’s like “ok, but please take as many snacks as you need and sit in reception for a little longer just in case, my colleague there can keep an eye on you”

I go and help myself to chocolate and some stickers then park myself in reception to cram the chocolate down my throat and chug more water. at this point I just feel tired, so I decide to patch my original plan of walking home (45 mins, by the way, I was insane for thinking that’d be viable) and head for the bus.

ten minutes down the road and almost at the bus stop, I realise I am feeling…….not so good. my hearing is going all static and my vision is tunnelling a bit at the edges. I’ve fainted before, so this is not my first rodeo. the bus stop is just over the other side of the huge 4 way junction I’ve stopped at, but I decide I need to sit down expeditiously, so I walk over to a nearby planter and park myself on the edge. btw, it had been raining all afternoon, so I immediately got a soaking wet arse.

this does not make me feel much better. I decide to put my head between my knees to try and get the blood flowing back to my head. and then the next thing I know, I’m slumped on my side on the pavement.

it’s not my first rodeo for fainting and not even my first rodeo for passing out in the street (although the only other time it happened I was just blackout drunk) so I feel weirdly calm. I’m soaking wet and on the pavement, but I feel….kinda okay about it. I don’t seem to have hit my head or hurt myself. I sit myself upright and take a few deep breaths. a rare good thing about me is that while I’m usually a very anxious person, I do tend to power through and keep the heid in the moment.

what’s not okay is that nobody came over to see if I was ok. I definitely tried making eye contact with people as they walked past, but everyone just ignored me. so to everyone in [redacted] area of [redacted] on tuesday night at 7pm, you’re all cunts. your da sells avon and your maw eats chuggie off the ground.

anyway, since I’m feeling weirdly calm, I start thinking about what to do. I could go to the nearby cinema - I know it well and they’ve got a quiet bar and nice staff who’d probably help me out - but it’s across the busy junction. the donor centre is a 10 min walk away. I pull out my phone and ring my partner, who picks up on the third dial. turns out he’s in a zoom meeting, so funnily enough this is the second time he’s had to abort a zoom meeting because of me having a medical emergency (the first time I’d cut my hand badly, which meant that everyone on his zoom call just heard him yell “OH MY GOD DARTHBINGUS IS BLEEDING” (not my real name) (obviously) then abruptly hang up)

on the phone, i go “hi, I think I just fainted”

he’s like. “what? where are you? shall I call an ambulance?” and I can hear the genuine panic in his voice.

I’m like nah I’m good. I don’t need an ambulance. but I don’t really know what to do. at this point I feel too weak to get up, but I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out again. he asks if I want him to come get me and I’m like 🥺 yes pls. except neither of us drive, so it’s a 30 minute bus journey.

he runs for a bus. thankfully I’ve managed to pass out next to a major busy bus route that runs right by our flat. I send him texts every 2 mins like “still alive” “still conscious” “I am breathing” “interesting pigeon just walked past” and he replies with things like “on bus” “got a seat on the bus” “bus is 10 mins away” “glad you didn’t die in the last 30 seconds”

by the time he shows up (my calmness broke and I nearly cried at the sight of him running across the road with a tote bag full of random food from our kitchen) I’m feeling pretty much better (albeit very feeble, cold and wet), so he feeds me some strawberries and then I call a taxi to get us home. and because I’d been sitting on the wet pavement for half an hour, I leave a giant wet patch on the seat in the taxi like I’d pissed myself. I hope the driver didn’t notice.

and then I’m fine for the rest of the evening, get my dinner cooked for me, change into dry clothes, and play bg3 (6 TPKs on the ansur fight, but then again I had the [bloodless] condition which nerfed my stats IRL)

anyway here’s the swag I got (kitkat and tunnocks teacake not pictured), PLUS I got loads of sympathy from my colleagues at work the next day once I told the story. 10/10 will definitely try donating again.

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x Daughter!reader - the outcasts

If it's ok I'd like to request a Hotch x daughter reader where she's an outcast and goes to Nevermore Academy and both of them try to hide it from the team but they find out (I picture the reader being a psychic with telekinesis/mind reading powers) - @elemental-of-magic💜

Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the coat hanger from your bed and put your shirt on it, followed by your blazer and your tie.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Looking down at your phone, you pulled a face at the werewolf grinning from ear to ear.

“Not a chance Enid, she’ll kill us!” You laughed.

“Her parents said it’s fine! Just think about it?!” She pouted.

Hanging the coat hanger on the top of your door, you walked back over and picked up your phone, making your way through your home as you shook your head.

“Nope, nope and nope.”

“Fine I’m just going to come to yours then.” She huffed.

“Enid I swear to god.” You laughed.

She laughed back and grinned at you.

“I’m going to do it! Your dads going to love it!”

“He’s not!” You chuckled.

You walked in to the kitchen and propped her up on the counter as you started to go through the cupboards.

“Hey kiddo!” Your dad called.

“Mr Hotchner! Mr Hotchner!” Enid yelled.

“Hey! Shut up!” You yelled.

Hotch walked through to the kitchen, kissing the top of your head, he waved at the phone with a smile.

“Hello Enid, how’re you?”

“I’m good! Can I come stay with you for a few weeks during summer?”

“I can’t see any issue with it, Jack will be going away on his camping trip at the end of this month.”

“Awesome! Let’s ask Wednesday!” Enid gushed.

“Dad!” You whined.

While the phone rang again you started to snack on some food you had found and turned to your dad.

He was just smiling, amused at your childish behaviour about him agreeing for your friend to come stay with you.

“What? Enid comes a few times a year anyways, and since I’m working you guys can have the house to yourselves.”

“Ooo parties.”

“No.” He said sternly.

“I’m kidding! Wednesday would kill us. Can Wednesday stay to?”

“Sure, just make sure that you keep Thing away from my room, I really don’t want to find it a mess again.”

“I’ll make sure your doors locked.” You laughed.

Your dad kissed your head and you cheered when Wednesday finally answered her phone.

It took some convincing but she finally agreed to come stay, and the following week your dad was driving you to pick them both up.

You and Enid excitedly talked away in the car about how your summers were going while Wednesday just sat there staring out of the window.

Hotch helped them carry their stuff in, and he set them in your room where you had set up two air mattresses and put yours on the floor with them.

“Where’s your bed gone?!” Enid yelled.

“Clearly she moved it for more room idiot.” Wednesday said.

“Hey play nice.” You scolded.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at you and started to unpack her things, putting everything in a space around the bed she had chosen.

“Hey dad is having a BBQ tomorrow night with his team do you guys want to join?” You asked.

“Oh yes yes yes!” Enid cheered.

“Sounds awful.”

“I’ll bring you food up Wednesday.” You laughed.

You guys spent most of the night playing games, talking and eating snacks.

The next morning, Wednesday woke up before you, making her way down the stairs where your dad was making breakfast.

“Morning Wednesday.” He smiled.

“Hello Mr Hotchner.” She greeted.

She sat down at the table and just stared at him.

When he first met her he was slightly uncomfortable, but now he was used to it and he simply set a plate of pancakes down in front of her.

“Help yourself to whatever, I’ll get the other two up.”

“Must you? It’s so peaceful without them talking my ears of.” She sighed.

“Unfortunately yes, (Y/N) will kill me if I don’t wake her up for pancakes.” He laughed.

He set two more plates on the table.

He walked away, waking Enid up first before he spent the next twenty minutes trying to wake you up.

Enid and Wednesday both came back up the stairs and shared a look.

“We’ve mastered this.” Enid grinned.

Hotch stepped back, watching as Enid stood over you.

Wednesday ripped your covers off, and before you could react Enid dropped herself on you, making you let out a loud groan while slapping her back.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!”

“If you stay there you might finally end her talking.” Wednesday said.

“Get off you lump!” You laughed.

Pushing her off you, you slapped Wednesday’s leg and jumped up, rushing down to quickly eat the food your dad had made you.

“I’ve got to go to the office, I’ll see you girls tonight!” He called.

“We’ll be home late going shopping!” You called back.

“Can we at least go to a bookstore this time?” Wednesday asked.

“Sure! Let’s go!”

You guys spent all day out, and Hotch started the BBQ without you.

“Wheres the little lady?” Rossi asked.

“She’s shopping with some friends from school?” Hotch smiled.

“What school does she go to? You’ve never said.” Derek asked.

Hotch didn’t reply for a moment, he focused to flipping the burgers before he closed the grill and turned to his team.

They’d been asking him this question for ages, and he never gave a straight answer.

“She’s goes to a boarding school, it was her mothers wishes she attended the same school.”

“But is it close? Far?” JJ asked.

“It’s quite far, it’s a nice place though, great students and staff.”

“So Jack will go to?” Reid asked.

Hotch shook his head and went back to tending to the food.

“No he’s got his friends here.”

They all nodded and finally dropped the subject, they knew they weren’t going to get any information out of him.

About an hour later you came home and ran up to your room to drop your shopping before grabbing Enid’s hand.

“What food do you want?”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t get moody if you don’t like it!” Enid called.

You guys ran back down the stairs and into the back yard.

Letting go of your friends hand, you let her run over to your dad while you crept up on Rossi and jumped on his back.

“You’re going to knock me down one day you know!” He laughed.

You let go and let him turn around to hug your properly.

“How was school?” Emily smiled.

Hugging her, you quickly went around and gave the rest a hug as well.

“It was good! A lot of drama this year, and a new student, she’s really weird but she’s cool!” You beamed.

You bounded over to the table where the food was, and started to help Enid pile food on to a plate.

“So who’s this?” Derek smiled.

“Oh this is Enid!”

You introduced them, and explained that your other friend was in your room because she didn’t like people very much.

While Enid took the food upstairs, you stayed to talk to your aunts and uncles for a little bit before you excused yourself to go and eat.

“They’re not as loud as I thought they would be.“ Wednesday noted.

“Well they are adults it’s not like Ajax trying to hide the fact he’s having a party in his dorm.” You snickered.

Another hour passed, and Hotch decided to light the fire.

“I’ll go get the girls!” Garcia squealed.

She was so excited to see Wednesday, and so she rushed up the stairs to your room.

She stopped outside to the door and went to knock when she stopped to look at the uniform that was hung on the door.

She stared at the crest, and through the crack in the door she could hear laughing and cheering.

“Do it again!” Enid laughed.

You laughed and held out your hand, raising a book in the air before you let it drop on the floor with a thud.

“You two are so childish.”

“You agreed to come!” You sang.

Enid laughed and you slapped her leg to make her go quiet.

“Aunt Garica?” You asked.

She squeaked and rushed back down the stairs before you could stop.

“(Y/N) goes to Nevermore?!” She yelled.

Every turned to Hotch in shock, and he looked a bit nervous, shuffling around on his feet.

“Nevermore?” Rossi asked.

“It’s a school for outcasts, students who can’t fit into normal schools because of their particular… abilities and family bloodlines.” Reid explained.

“So she’s an outcast?” Emily asked.

Hotch sighed, opening his mouth to reply but you spoke before he could.

“Yes, I go to a school for outcasts, so do Enid and Wednesday. Though to be honest Wednesday is only there because she didn’t have much of a choice and kept getting expelled.”

You sighed, giving them all a little smile.

“You guys know dad adopted me from my mom, who was best friends with him. But she was an outcast to, so was my father. And I inherited both of their abilities.”

You then sat down and explained everything, not giving them a chance to get a word in just in case they tried to stop you.

By the time you finished no one knew what to say.

Looking at you, you were still their little weird niece, you were still part of their family.

“So Enid you’re an outcast to?” JJ asked.

Enid nodded her head, looking to you for permission and you nodded.

So Enid explained what she was and it added even more shock to the whole situation.

“We’re sorry we didn’t tell you, but we know how people can be towards people like (Y/N), Enid and Wednesday.” Hotch sighed.

“It’s… strange that’s for sure…” Derek mumbled.

“Kinda cool though.” Garica smiled.

“You guys are still family, we’re just glad to know the whole story now.” Emily laughed.

You laughed as well and smiled brightly.

If there was anyone you could count on it was your dads team.

They happily asked questions about all of you, and you answered all of them if you could, even Wednesday helped with answering the questions to try and make it easier for your family to accept you