#op hits him with the good old one two

[bloominglegumes]

so g1 megop in my opinion is, more than anything else, the background romantic relationship in some type of bad sitcom that never gets resolved

[bi-writes]

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

[miley1442111]

the joys of a workplace relationship- s.reid

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summary: a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem! marine! reader

warnings: nothing lol

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You and Spencer hadn’t been dating that long. It had been what? 2 years? About 2 years. You weren’t sure. You knew you hadn’t had your third anniversary yet, that’s for sure. Your relationship was good, you two loved each other, he complained about not seeing you because of deployments, you complained about not seeing him because of cases., but it always usually worked out. Somehow, you’d see each other. And now? You’d see each other everyday, without fail. 

You were joining the BAU. 

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“We have a new agent coming in,” Aaron announced, and faces were a mix of puzzled, excited, or confused. 

“Are they a woman? We really need some more women on this team,” Penelope sighed. Elle and Jj nodded their heads agreeing as Derek laughed. 

“She is a woman and she’s from the Navy, but special ops-”

“So she’s dangerous,” Elle smirked. “I like her already.”

“Well, it seems I’ve found her,” Jason nodded his head to the window, where all of them crowded to see the new girl. Spencer didn’t bother, too busy thinking about the case, and the fact that he wouldn’t be home tonight even though you’d just come back from a deployment yesterday evening. 

“She’s pretty!” Penelope squealed. “Spencer come look, maybe we can set you up!”

“For the last time Pen, I have a girlfriend-”

“Yeah, one that you never let us meet or see because she’s ‘in the navy’ or ‘busy’,” Elle scoffed, a small chuckle leaving most of their mouths as Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“But she is busy! And in the navy,” he tried, but it was just digging him a deeper hole while the team laughed at him. He stood up and looked at the window and his heart stopped. There you were, go-bag (which Spencer recognised as one of your old navy bags) in hand and a black shirt that showed a lot of the tattoos on your left arm. Spencer felt his mouth water as he watched you walk around with one of the other agents from the floor as he gave you a tour. 

You were here. Standing in his office. 

Were you joining the BAU?

“She is pretty,” he smiled and Penelope hit him on the chest. 

“You have a girlfriend!” She gasped as she started backing Spencer practically into a wall as the team watched on and laughed “You cannot go around calling other women beautiful-” “No Penelope-” “That is just disgusting and gross-” “Penelope-” “Ugh you are such a man! It’s disgusting -”

“Hi,” you smiled, standing at the door. Penelope stopped and turned to you, a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Penelope! Nice to meet you,” she held out her hand to be shook and you took it. 

“I’m Y/n,” you explained. “Captain Y/n Y/l/n.”

Heads turned to Spencer, his girlfriend’s name was supposedly Y/n. His girlfriend was supposedly a captain, and became one in only 7 years. The youngest there had ever been. 

“Welcome to the team,” Elle smiled. “Elle Greenaway.”

“Derek Morgan,” Derek smiled, taking your hand to shake. 

“Obviously you’ve met me over the phone,” Aaron muttered.

“Jason Gideon,” Jason smiled, giving you a salute. 

“Jennifer Jareou, but everyone calls me Jj,” she smiled. 

“And that over there, is-”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, I’m well acquainted,” you smiled. 

Spencer was still standing in the corner of the room, a proud smile on his face as the team slowly connected the dots. 

“Wait so she’s real?” Derek practically squealed.

You chuckled as a thousand questions poured in about your relationship, but you just sat and listened to them as Spencer went bright red. 

“Please stop asking such invasive questions guys-” Spencer tried but he was drowned out in a sea of voices. 

“Settle down,” Aaron called. “We have a case. Obviously this isn’t your first profiling case, right Y/n?”

“No, it’s not my first,” you nodded. 

As the briefing went on, you felt Spencer’s hand creep onto your lap. You didn’t mind, you liked having him close, but he was getting a little… work inappropriate. You brushed his hand off and continued the briefing. 

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“What was your callsign?” Jason asked out of the blue as you all walked onto the plane. 

“Sailfish, sir,” you said, your naval manners bled into your life everyday, including calling people of authority ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’.

“That’s so cool, why?”

“I was the fastest flyer,” you shrugged, sitting beside Spencer. His arm immediately wrapped around you, and he pulled you into him, kissing the crown of your head as he read his book. 

You and Spencer had been together long enough that you both knew each other's love language. Spencer’s was physical touch whereas yours was quality time and words of affirmation. You didn’t like PDA at the beginning of your relationship, but you'd grown to not mind it when Spencer wanted to be close in public. 

“How was the trip back?” He whispered. You felt all eyes on the both of you and he mustn’t have noticed, or else he would’ve let go. 

“It was fine, Scratch and Patches were fucking fighting the entire way back,” you sighed. Two of your friends, callsigns Scratch and Patches, had just started dating and recent weeks and god were they annoying. 

“They finally go together then?” He asked, engrossed in his book. 

“Not for fucking long,” you mummbled. “How long is the flight?”

“We have about 5 hours, do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah, I might just nap for a while.”

“Alright, I love you, sleep well,”

“Love you too,” you yawned and quickly fell asleep. Soon, all of the team were crowding around you two, questions ready to ask, and Aaron ready to have an awkward conversation. 

“She’s really cool, how in god’s name did you pull her?” Derek asked as Spencer chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you slept. In your sleep, you had a habit of pulling away from Spencer, so Spencer usually kept an arm around you at all times. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “We just… got together I guess.”

“Spencer, I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news but… the PDA stuff should probably be taken down,” Jj said, Aaron behind her with a look of pleading. 

“And there’s paperwork for you both to sign,” he added.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked, confused. Why would he need to tone it down? 

“There’s rules and regulations against agents being together, Strauss would kill you both of you broke them,” Jj explained. 

“It’s not like I’m always touching her,” he rolled his eyes as the team stared on. 

“Well-” Derek started, but Elle hit him in the shoulder. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

“You don’t exact;y keep your hands to yourself, is all I’m saying,” he said, then walked off with Elle, Jj, and Gideon behind him.

“Just… tone it down, please?” Aaron added, and Spencer nodded, much more to think about than before. Aaron walked off and back to his seat. 

“Well that was deeply embarrassing,” you whispered from your spot against his chest. 

“Yes, yes it was,” Spencer sighed. “I guess I’ll just… tone it down then.”

“At work,” you added. “But at home you can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he admitted. 

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then you pulled your body off of his and sat in your own seat to nap, thus the joys of workplace relationships began.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Billy and his songbird || Billy the kid x singer!reader

Summary: Billy is captivated to say the least when he watches you perform on stage.

Warnings: none that I can think of

Wc: 983

A/n: crap summary but I've always wanted to do a crossover between tbosas and btk lol. this was so fun to make, ALSO nothing you can take from me has to be one of the top three songs on the soundtrack along with pure as the driven snow and the ballad of lucy gray baird. I SAID WHAT I SAID.

Divider by @pommecita

The sun hung low on the western horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty streets of the small frontier town. The swinging doors of the saloon creaked as a lone figure stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the fading light.

The murmurs and laughter of the patrons hushed for a moment as they turned their attention to the newcomer. The dimly lit room flickered with the warm glow of oil lamps, and the air was thick with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke.

The stranger, a tall and lean figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, scanned the room before his gaze settled on you. A slow grin crept across his face as recognition sparked in his eyes.

You were unaware of Billy’s gaze with your back turned to the crowd as you tuned your guitar ready for your performance for the night.

Billy looked around, his eyes scanning the room until they locked onto a familiar face: Jesse Evans. The two had esse crossed paths many times before, sometimes as allies and sometimes as adversaries, but tonight, it seemed like old times.

“Billy!” Jesse called out, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. Thought you were avoiding us. Billy smirked and tipped his hat as he approached Jesse and the others at a table near the corner that had a good view of the stage. “Just needed a bit of a break, Jesse. Couldn’t resist the allure of Sante Fe and the atmosphere ‘round here.”

Jesse slaps Billy’s back, “Well, you came on a good day, kid. Y/n’s singing tonight.“ He cocks his head to you on the stage as Billy’s eyes roam your figure. “Jesse leaned in toward Billy. “You know, we used to get mighty excited whenever we heard she was performing. She’s got a voice that can make even the toughest outlaw shed a tear.”

Billy raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Is that right? Well, I reckon I’ll have to hear it for myself.”

Jesse smirks at his friend as Billy catches on to his smirk with a roll of his eyes. “How’s everyone’s night goin’?” You speak in the mic as the saloon erupts in loudness, a few cheers, whistles and the sound of hands hitting tables, showcasing their feelings.

You chuckle, “Good, good, that’s what I like to hear,” a mischievous glint flashed across Billy’s eyes as he hears Jesse chuckles beside him, a playful nudge to his stomach.

“Oh! Is that bottle there for me?” Your eyes widen the slightest as you see one of the locals walk over to you with a flask in hand. “Of course, doll,” Cal grins up at you as the crowd loudens. “Oh, come on, ya’ll. You know I gave up drinking when I was 12,” You playfully wink.

The crowd erupted in laughter and amusement at your customary banter. Billy found himself captivated by your charm. “It’s to clear my piles, ya’ll. To clear my pipes” You assure them jokingly, throwing the flask back to the crowd with a grin.

You turn your head to give a sign to your band to start the song you prepared. The crowd hushed, waiting for the music to start, “You can’t take my past,” your bandmates start off, “you can’t take my history,” the crowd was silent in awe as they listen to the melodic voices that filled the space.

“You could take my pa,” “but his name’s a mystery.” You take a step forward to the mic, “Nothin’ you can take from me was ever worth keeping” your eyes flutter shut as you hear a few whoops from the crowd.

“Oh, nothing you can take,” your eyes open and Billy swore he saw them sparkle, “was ever worth keeping,” the corner of your mouth tips up to form a small smirk as the upbeat song comes to life causing an eruption of cheers from the patrons.

You wore a huge smile on your face as your fingers skilfully strum your guitar. “C’mon!” You encourage the already hyped up crowd full of cowboys and cowgirls; your boot tapping on the wooden stage as they clap along, already boosting your adrenaline.

“Can’t take my charm. Can’t take my humour. Can’t take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumour.” The way you effortlessly and gracefully twirled around the stage, your voice and stage presence mesmerising and commanding everyone’s attention—Billy was truly and utterly enchanted—you, the enchanter.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping. No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping,” Billy couldn’t help but feel his head lightly bopping to the beat, his eyes looking around to see everyone else just as captivated by your presence.

You were having the time of your life, like always whenever you sang, your heart pumping with adrenaline, “Thinkin’ your so fine. Thinkin’ you could have mine.”

Billy couldn’t help but be enchanted by your performance. He leaned against the wall, a half-smile playing on his lips as he watched you sing. Jesse and his gang, too, were caught up in the infectious energy of the moment. It seemed like everyone in the saloon, regardless of their affiliations, was having a great time.

“Thinkin’ you’re in control. Thinkin’ you’ll change me, maybe rearrange me, think again if that’s your goal.” Your eyes roam around the practically full saloon before you lock eyes with none other than Billy the Kid in the corner.

You saw him a few hours prior from a distance, but that was it. Now, his blue irises were staring straight at you, his lips lightly upturned as his finger taps along to the beat of the music, your fingers still dancing over your guitar strings, not missing a beat.

You both stared at each for what seemed liked hours but was merely a few seconds; and, for those few seconds, something unspoken passed between you.

A playful smile made it to your lips before you tore your eyes away from Billy’s. “Can’t take my sass. Can’t take my talkin’,” Billy’s watches your figure as you move across the stage, leaning forward to the crowd, “you can kiss my ass, then keep on walkin’,”

An amused expression flashed over Billy’s face, “She’s good isn’t she, Billy?” Jesse shouts over the loud music as Billy chuckles, nodding his head. “She’s somethin’ alright. A songbird.” Jesse snorts at him, “a songbird, huh?” he echoes as Billy’s eyes fall back onto the stage that you controlled.

“Nothin’ you can take from me is worth dirt.” Your eyes lock with one another, “take it ‘cause I’d give it free, it won’t hurt.” Your eyebrow lightly cocks at his direction as Billy’s lips parted. It seemed as if it was only the two of you in the saloon, everyone fading in the background.

The crowd falls into a hush, sensing the end of the song, “Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’. No, nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.” The upbeat tempo once again affiliated the saloon as the pleasantly surprised patrons clapped, danced, and tapped along to the catchy beat of the song.

When the song reached its crescendo, you finished with a flourish, your fingers dancing over the guitar strings. Everyone in the saloon cheered and whistled, and you couldn’t help but bow, acknowledging the appreciation.

“Ya’ll have a good night, thank you!” You exclaim into the mic before turning around and packing up your equipment. “We’re havin’ a drink, join us?” Annie, your bandmate comes up to you, placing her hand on your shoulder.

You smile up at her, “Thanks, Annie. I’ll come join you guys later.” As you stand back up, you lock eyes with Jesse Evans. You were well acquainted with the man, the two of you hanging out whenever you were free. He was sat a table with Billy, his gang the next table over.

He beckoned you with a smile as you reciprocate it, signalling to him that you’d be there in a sec. “Hey, sweetheart,” Cal drawled, obviously drunk as he had a cigarette in between his lips.

“Hey there, Cal. Enjoying yourself?” You politely smile at him as her offers to hold your hand as you descend the stage stairs—although you were quite capable of walking down yourself.

“Wanna join me for a drink, eh?” “Uh-“ “-what do ya say?” Your eyes lock with Billy’s who was staring you down. “Thank you for the offer, Cal. But I’m gonna have to decline,” You quickly say as your feet quickly moved away, leaving him there.

“Popular, ain’t ya?” Jesse chuckles, moving the seat back beside him for you. “Mind sharin’ a drink with us?” He pats the seat as your eyes flicker between him and Billy. You returned the smile, taking a seat between Billy and Jesse “I’m a busy girl but I’ll make time for ya. Always a pleasure to share good company,” you playfully wink at Jesse as you hear Billy softly chuckle.

“Lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Bonney,” You extend your hand out gracefully as he looks down at it before looking back at you with a smile. “Please, the pleasure is all mine.”

The conversation flowed as freely as the whiskey, and soon, the saloon was filled with the sounds of camaraderie. You found yourself in the middle of it all, laughing at Jesse's stories, clinking glasses with the gang, and sharing glances with Billy that spoke volumes.

"It was Billy's first time here watching your perform y'know," Jesse pipes up, his glass of whisky close to his lips before he throws his head back as you look at Billy who was already looking at you. "What'd you think 'bout my performance Billy?"

Billy pretends to ponder, rubbing his jaw as you giggle. "What can I say, darlin'? You were great out there. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you," he admits as you grin at his bluntness.

As the evening drew to a close, Jesse stood and stretched. "Well, Billy, it's been a pleasure catchin' up with you. But we've got a long ride ahead of us tomorrow."

Billy nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "I reckon it's time for me to hit the trail as well. But before I go, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask." You looked at him, curiosity in your eyes. "Ask away."

Billy hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Would you mind if I walked you home? It's not every day a man gets to meet a singer as talented as you." You smiled, touched by the slightly expected request, you nodded with a gracious smile. "I'd be delighted, Billy."

As you and Billy stepped out into the cool night air, the distant sounds of the bustling saloon faded, leaving only the soft murmur of the wind and the occasional creak of a swinging sign. The moon cast a gentle glow on the empty streets as the two of you walked side by side.

"Quite a night, wouldn't you say?" Billy remarked, his tone a mix of charm and genuine admiration. You hummed. "Never thought I'd find myself walking home with an infamous outlaw." You smirked as Billy reciprocated it, "Life's full of surprises, darlin'," he tips his hat.

[lara-cairncross]

masterpost weewoo ✨✨

general art tag general ask tag

🧚hidden hollow au / rottmnt fairy au stuff:

au tag fanart/fanwriting tag "ask mikey" tag

original designs (this is kinda outdated now lmao)

brief intro comic

april -> leo size comparison

mini lore comic 1

info about mikey's talent

general idea for wings + shell anatomy

mini lore comic 2

info about leo's talent

mini lore comic 2.5??? (not important just funny to me personally)

shelldon exists. kinda.

thingy about their fangs (good color ref)

ao3 fanfics (from most recently updated to oldest)

link to my Ao3 page

are you lonely yet?

-> 6/? chapters, 11k words, english, Donnie- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: uhhhhh mikey gets hurt in a very damaging way. donnie blames himself big-time. they both think the other is mad at them. emotional angst woo hoo, but also kinda fluffy i think? also pretty heavy on disaster twins stuff

now it's red, now it's dead, now it's--

-> 1/2 chapters, 5k words, english, Mikey-centric.

notes: set in the Bad Future timeline! follows mikey's slow ascent into becoming something Other. lots of angst-- depression, disassociation, suicidal ideation, major character death, etc etc. probably my favorite fic that i've written? idk I love writing OP mikey!

the sun is a dying star

-> 3/? chapters, 10k words, english, mikey-centric but bounces between POVs

notes: started off as a one-shot but i got too ambitious for my own good. mikey is not having a good time. blah blah blah turtle-gets-kidnapped-by-scientists-or-something, but i wanted to focus more on like, psychological damage than physical damage. not sure when/if this one will get an update.

pizza bagels, communication, and other life-changing novelties

-> 1/3 chapters, 3.4k words, english, Miles- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: SHELLSHOCKED FIC WOOHOO !! THE ONE AND ONLY TIME I WILL WILLINGLY WRITE ROMANCE! uhhhh two teenagers pining for each other and doing dumb shit together and angsting about being children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. IT'S FLUFFY AND CUTE I PROMISE

it's golden hour somewhere

-> 1/1 chapters (completed), 7.4k words, english, Mikey- and- Karai-centric.

notes: one-shot. Karai POV, but focuses on turtle tot Mikey. basically the Hamato Sacrifice isn't the only curse that plagues the clan, and Mikey is the most recent Hamato to come under fire. predetermined fate and all that shit. fluff and angst. this one's kinda weird ngl I remember nothing about writing it or getting inspiration for it lmao

the icarus complex

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), 10k words, english, Raph-centric (and also kinda Leo-centric in second chapter).

notes: deals with Raph's PTSD following the Kraang invasion, and one possible coping mechanism he could fall back on. spoiler alert it's NOT a healthy one lmao. definitely one of the more interesting fics I've written in my opinion; I did a lot of research for this one to make it as realistic and respectful as I could. another personal fav :)

equivalent exchange (and other things that give Leo a headache)

-> 1/? chapters, 2.5k words, english, Future!Leo- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: another Bad Future timeline fic, this time with Present Mikey accidentally ending up with Future Leo. follows the two of them trying to figure out how to get Mikey back to his timeline. I still love this concept, but idk when I'll get around to updating it tho lmao

that's where the blood's supposed to be!

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), english, Mikey-centric.

notes: Mikey gets hit hard during a fight but brushes it off, and it comes back to bite him later. takes place after the show, but before the movie-- right when the whole Leo vs Raph kerfuffle is at its peak. questionable medical information but I did my best lmao. this one's kinda old and cringey atp but whatever

other stuff

fanart for 3 months au tag

fanart for golden future au tag

glass turtle keychains example

College Fund (aka my Ko-fi page :>)

[mrslankyman]

New Years Kiss

Mike Schmidt x (fem) reader

->1.1k words

Music blared through the house. Your friend had decided to throw a party. You honestly didn’t care to be there.

New years around all these people didn’t feel like a good start to your 2000 journey. Why did it have to be so crowded.

You barely knew anyone at the party. Maybe the alcohol was the reason for everyone getting along. It loosened you up. Made you feel like you belonged. Perhaps you should drink. Maybe it help you.

You walked down the small hallway to the kitchen. Passing an open doored room. Honestly you wish you didn’t see the make out sesh going on inside. It simply reminded you of how lonely you were.

Going into the new years yet again without anyone. No amount of grapes eaten under the table or red underwear you buy would secure you a man for the next year.

If only life was that easy.

Mike thought the same. Minus the red underwear. He didn’t really know how to spend new years. Till he got invited to this party. Now he stood in the corner of the kitchen. Watching others talk, kiss, and run off to random rooms to do god knows what.

He felt so alone. He didn’t drink he had to drive home. Abby was off at their grandmas for the night. She always wanted to spend new years with her and Mike. This year Mike opped out of going. He wanted to give this party a try.

He regretted it greatly.

No girl came up to him like these other guys. No girl waved or gave him the eye. He saw so many movies of the girls just coming up and kissing the boy she wanted.

He wouldn’t have that luck. He wouldn’t wanna admit it to anyone but a new years kiss was one of his biggest wishes.

To have someone to hold on new years. Know you’d be with them once the clock hit 12. Secure it with a kiss. Like a fairy tale. It felt like a dream.

Which it was. As Mike knew he was not really desirable. A 25 year old man raising his sister and struggling to make ends meet. Who’d wanna be around that?

You walked into the kitchen. Looking up at the man who stood in the corner. He held a can of Pepsi. Not beer. Which was shocking. You also didn’t drink tonight.

You simply walked up to the small plate of appetizers. Grabbing some grapes. The man chuckled a little.

“Gonna sit under the table and eat them?” His voice sounded teasing but as you looked up his eyes didn’t display the same emotion. He looked tired, worn out but.. some what attractive.

Your face flushed as he had caught on to what you were gonna do. “Yeah. It’s stupid but.. I kinda want to find someone next year.” You looked down at the grapes. 12 in your hand. It had to work.. didn’t it?

He walked closer to you and grabbed 12 him self. “Okay, I’ll give it a try too. I’m wanting to find someone as well. This years been too lonely. Besides 2000 doesn’t sound like a bad year.” He looked at you. you smiled and nodded. He was about the same height as you. Which was cute. Not too tall.. but not terribly short.

“It’s only 11 we can talk under the table if you want.” He nodded towards the kitchen table. You nodded in agreement and headed over to the kitchen table. You both crawled under.

Mike pulled the chairs to cover you two under the table. It sorta felt like just you two were at the house. Besides the music and the sound of people talking.

“I’m Mike by the way.” His eyes flicked up to you. Displaying some new emotion. He seemed intrigued to know you.

“I’m Y/N..” You smiled and looked down at your grapes. “Rough year too?” You asked him not looking up.

“Yeah. Pretty rough. I hope this one’s better. Raising my sister is tough. I’ve never had kids. So.. I’m just praying I’m doing it right.” He sighed and looked down.

Your heart ached. This man seemed so sweet. At least from what he gave off. He seemed like he was caring. Even if his eyes looked dead and tired.

“I’m sure you’ll have a good year. It’s nice you’re there for your sister. I’m sure she appreciates it.” You nudge him gently. Wanting to lighten the mood a little. He chuckled as he looked at the ground shrugging his shoulders.

“I hope she does..” his voice dropped again. You frowned and looked over at him. His shoulders slumped, eyes down and lips in a thin line. He didn’t even seem excited for the new years.

But were you even excited? Every year came with the hopes of something new with the ending of nothing.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes. Though you just met him something pulled you to him. He could say the same for you. Despite coming off as not excited. He quite liked your company. He stared at the floor.

Not because he was awkward , or didn’t wanna talk, but because he wanted to make the perfect conversation. He combed over every possibility. He wanted to talk to you.

You were the first girl at the party to even pay him any attention. For the most part you were the only girl to give him this much attention.

So once he picked the topic it was just a long conversation. He talked about his sister, you talked about your work, he talked about his Aunt Jane and how he disliked her, you talked about how you wished for something great in life.

in a short time you two got to know each. All before the clock hit 11:59.

You learned that Mike longed for a new years kiss once. You told him how you longed for someone to go into the new years with.

And once that clock hit 11:59 you went to the grapes.

You both smiled and popped the grapes in your mouths. Trying to get all 11 in before 12.

Once the clock hit 12 and everyone else shouted happy new years. You and Mike got to your last grape. You stared at him happily. You had done it. You ate all 12 grapes before 12:01.

“We did i-“ Mike was cut off by you leaning in. Pressing a kiss to his lips. He tasted like the grapes. With a mix of Pepsi. He quickly kissed back. His body felt a surge of electric. He didn’t suspect this.

He didn’t realize how tentivly you listened to him as he spoke of his wish. He pulled you closer. Deepening the kiss. Maybe he just met you. Maybe you just met him.

But you had a whole year to get to know each other now.

Maybe the grapes did work.

[animeshotsh]

Choso and Yuuji with a OP lil sister HCs

Notes: Completly random fic. Just brainrot moments. AU. Gojo its your adoptive Dad! We dont follow the plotline because we want to be happy. SFW. OP lil sis because I say so. PLATONIC.

You are probably one of the many Kenjaku kids they had in their lifetime. Having human features but a big curse energy that envolves all your body and scares away the curses.

However, since that cursed energy showed itself late Kenjaku was sure you were a failure and left you.

You meet Yuuji first and he is confused about you being his lil sister till he sees you punch off a second grade curse giving him the most confused look when he runs to get you in his arms because you are so little and small? And you could have died? And poor Yuuji has lose too many people.

"But Gojo-sensei says im strong" add Gojo at the side nodding.

Under no reason you should be at Shibuya but you go because you have no sense of self preservation.

You also started to miss Yuuji and no one was back at the school to check on you.

Takes you few seconds to find Yuuji appearing behind him and staring to heal him. (So OP you know reverse curse technique Gojo is jealous).

"Big bro dont die! You promised we could go to the Park with Gumi-San (Megumi) and Kugi-san (Nobara)

Nobara its alive! You actually passed to say Hi to Yaga (who was pissed but no suprised to see you there). On your way to Yuuji and helped Shoko heal her.

When Choso hears "big bro" he turns to you and once you two make eye contact a flash of memories go into Choso's mind. You two being together since you were a few months old and how he would help you eat and walk.

Choso its in shock but if Itadori its his lil bro then you are his lil sis. No problem, he is happy he has a New family member.

And Kenjaku its pissed because how did such a perfect toll scape their sight?

Does not matter! Cause Yuuji and Choso are in big bro protective mode!!

Till you snap your fingers and Kenjaku brain explotes leaving behind Geto Suguru's Body and...a box?

A box you soon take cause its look strange and you are curious.

"....are these Gojo-sensei eyes?"

And somehow you end opening the box?

Last thing Gojo expected to see once out was you looking up to him confused (you look so cute he wants to hug you forever) and his best friends body (he needs theraphy).

Lets do a big time skip.

Choso is slowly adapting to the life in the school, he is so lucky to have Yuuji and You to help him!

Oh, and Yuuji grounded you because you went to Shibuya when he told you not to. But that same night you two slept together because he had nightmares.

Choso has so much big bro love towards you. He likes to chase you around and loves to let you do his hair. He is also amazed and scared of your powers. Would have loved if you had met his other brothers and sometimes cries because you are them when they were young.

Yuuji knows you longer than Choso does, he knows how Gojo raised you with Megumi, he has accepted that Megumi its your other big bro. But Choso cant seem to do it. The first time he saw you on Megumi's shoulders he went to his room and cried because he was not a good brother. (You never asked him to carry you on his shoulders so he feels bad).

But you are also a sneaky kid!! Since Gojo raised you, you got his sense of humor and ego so of course you go and scare both of them from time to time. Appearing at random times. Choso almost hitted you the first time and you almost broke his arm in self defense (amazing bonding).

He actually tells you, you can attack him if he tries to attack you first.

Missions are still happening and both Yuuji and Choso are so against you going out, even when Maki points out you are probably the next Gojo sussesor along side Yuuta.

-Its Yuuta another one I need to worry about?-

Choso thoughts because he is now worried you may have another big bro. (Who may be better than him and he cant risk it).

But no, you let him know only Megumi its your non biological big bro.

"And im your dad!" Gojo.

Anyway, Yuuji and Choso only let you go on missions if they can go with you. And most times they wont even let you fight.

So you are just there 🙍‍♀️ basically getting money from the missions by being a stand by.

One time a curse scaped Choso attack and decided you were its Next target.

It did not end well for the curse and Choso almost has a crisis because you ended covered in curse's blood.

Yuuji has to tell him the same happened while he was fightning a curse along side you to calm him down.

Somehow he gets stronger after it so no curse can Escape him. He PROTECTS.

Choso once decided to stay still all night because he could not bring himself to wake you up. Yuuji tried to tell him he could move but Choso insisted on not moving.

MOVIE NIGHTS. The three of you do lots of movie nights. During most of them you end sleeping in the middle of the movie on top of one of your big bros.

First time it happened to Yuuji he felt asleep too and Gojo took pics because you two looked so cute!!

Turns out you only wake up if you feel danger around you so now they can freely move you after you end sleeping again. (They end knowing this because you once feel asleep during a mission Gojo took you with him and when the curse got too close you woke up and vanished the curse). (Gojo was so proud of course he told everyone and got hate from Choso and Yuuji for putting you at risk).

Also, if Gojo spoiled you then your brothers now have a personal competition against him to spoil you more. You will be getting lots of gifts and treats!

[tobiasdrake]

Man, every time you post from Dragonball Meta I go "Man, that makes so much sense! Now I wanna see their take on this" On that note: How would you describe Gohan and Krillin's dynamic

It takes a village to raise a child. Goku, Chi-Chi, and Piccolo's contributions to Gohan's upbringing are often brought up, but it's often overlooked that he was Krillin's ward for a time too.

During their time on Namek, Krillin and Gohan have a pretty neat dynamic. As a hybrid Saiyan given some instruction in ki manipulation and martial arts by Piccolo, Gohan has a great deal of raw ability. But he's also five years old.

He's got a lot of power and some technical prowess but he doesn't have the sharp instincts or experience of a martial artist. He has the temperament of a child in need of guidance. Because. Like. That's what he literally is.

His ki sensing tends to be more finely tuned than Krillin's.

Gohan is a fantastic radar. I think learning to sense ki at such an early age probably made it second nature for him, like having a sixth sense. But that's my speculation.

In any case, Gohan's got a lot of ability but what he lacks is maturity, experience, and some of the more esoteric techniques picked up from a lifetime of martial arts study. That's where Krillin comes in. Krillin calls the shots during their time on Namek.

As an aside, I love this moment because it conveys the difference in technique between the two. Gohan and Krillin are both about to absolutely murder these guys in one hit each, but the way they're about to do it is totally different.

Gohan fights like a brawler, and so he's just going in for a hard right hook. Krillin, meanwhile, is preparing to twirl himself around with Bukujutsu in order to create momentum for a spinning kick.

Brute force on the one hand and finely honed martial arts on the other. Akira Toriyama's greatest talent as an artist was conveying character through action.

That is their dynamic on Namek. (Dynamek?) Gohan is powerful beyond measure while Krillin makes choices about where and how to apply that power. And when Gohan's impulsiveness gets them into trouble (in a way that will pay out massive dividends for years to come):

It's Krillin's technical knowledge, experience, and knack for subterfuge that gets them out of it.

This victory was brought to you by everybody cannibalizing Tenshinhan's techniques because they're so good. Dude needs to start filing patents.

Bunch of fucking thieves, Kame-senryu.

This sort of teamwork is the relationship they develop. Krillin is experienced and tactical, but also pragmatic. He didn't want to save Dende; He was totally willing to let Dende die to avoid exposing him and Gohan. But he rolls with it and adapts.

When he next sets out into a situation where they might have to leave the Namekians to die, he doesn't say he's not taking Gohan to avoid a similar predicament... but he does bench Gohan without giving any reason for it.

It's certainly an interesting choice, to be sure.

And a mistake he'll spend the next six days trying to un-make.

Oof. Would have been a great idea to have brought Gohan along in the first place, huh?

He does it again much later, when he's once again flying into a situation where he might have to choose between exposing himself to Frieza or letting the Namekians die.

Again, no explanation offered. Gohan volunteers to join and Krillin tells him, "Nope." Gohan has implicitly been fired from ever doing spy ops with Krillin again. Nonetheless, he continues to follow Krillin's lead unquestioningly, all the way up to the end.

For his part, Gohan is impulsive and follows his heart. He leans on Krillin for guidance and mentorship, but also follows his heart.

But together they effectively fight as a single unit. That... psychic mind training thing they were doing on the spaceship wasn't just sparring; They were also forming battle strategies and making plans for fighting an enemy together.

The coordination and teamwork between Gohan and Krillin is some of the best in the series, because they had both time and will to practice and train themselves as battle partners. Guldo can freeze time and he's still on the backfoot from how fast they flow from one attack to another, and how well Gohan's learned to read Krillin's moves and follow along without a word between them.

Oh, and the ki sensing.

I love the way Krillin and Gohan dominate this fight. Guldo's telekinesis almost pulls this out for him right at the end, but 90% of this fight is Guldo narrowly avoiding being brutally murdered by virtue of his time manipulation.

This is, once again, the Planet Trade Organization in the nutshell. Their raw abilities are incredible, while the Earthlings are better fighters. This tends to put the Earthlings on the backfoot, but the Earthlings have the tools to at least navigate the situation - For a time, at least.

When they can find an answer, they excel. When they can't, the raw ability of the PTO wins out. One of my favorite moments for Gohan and Krillin is right here, when they intervene during Vegeta's fight with Recoome.

This is a desperation move. There was no plan here. "We're fucked; GET 'IM!" was the only idea exchanged before they rush in.

So, lacking a coordinated strategy like the ones they used against Guldo, you can see their different values manifest in how they move. Krillin, the underhanded pragmatist, goes straight for a critical shot. Hitting Recoome with a well-placed knee drop to slam his jaw shut on the ultra-powerful Eraser Gun he's firing from his mouth.

Krillin's sneak attack fucks up Recoome about as hard as the preceding battle with Vegeta did.

But where Krillin sees an opening for a powerful hit, Gohan sees a life in danger. So he moves to save Vegeta instead of following Krillin's attack. Even Vegeta's startled by this decision.

Vegeta's pissed that Gohan didn't let him die. Vegeta would have let Vegeta die.

This is who Gohan is: A kindhearted boy who doesn't want to be in these violent situations but will do whatever he has to do in order to protect the lives of others.

Gohan is the most unambiguously heroic character in the cast. There is no poison in his heart. He's not here to fight. He doesn't care about martial arts. He has no enjoyment and no love of violence. He has Goku's best quality: He doesn't like it when people are being hurt, and he's bold enough to get involved if he can. But it's distilled in Gohan, untouched by Goku's poison.

Which is both a strength and a weakness, in different ways. And remains so throughout the rest of his life.

[munson-blurbs]

Thoughts on how eddie would react to the reader (his girlfriend) buying new underwear/lingerie and showing it off to him whike she changes into comfy clothes for the evening? Bc my boyfriend apparently didn't even look long enough to differentiate between two very clearly very different pairs and I need Eddie to have a better reaction🥲

Combining this with a req from @kellysimagines:

How about reader and Eddie dont wanna go out to celebrate their 3 year anniversary so they spend it at his trailer and the reader suprises Eddie only wearing thigh high leather boots and only that and Eddie is surprised and they have sex?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, c*m eating, thigh riding, praise

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The model in the picture is just there to provide a visual of the boots, and does not necessarily represent how Reader looks. Eddie would worship any of your bodies 💚 also, shoutout to @big-ope-vibes for convincing me to post this tonight in an attempt to defeat the Sunday scaries and to @pastel-pillows for helping me write sub!Eddie.

--

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” Eddie’s voice calls out. His nose is pink from the chill in the air. Indiana winters are brutal, and this one is no exception. “And I brought Chinese for dinner!”

“I’m in the bedroom,” you call back. “Got you a little surprise.”

Eddie’s brows pinch together in confusion. “I thought we said no gifts,” he whines, placing the bag of takeout on a snack table. It’s your third anniversary, and you’re trying to save up for a house. The trailer Eddie bought from his uncle Wayne after the older man moved to Florida was cozy, but it wasn’t where you wanted to grow old together.

You giggle mischievously, further piquing his interest. “Just come over here, handsome!” You hear him stomp through the living room; he isn’t angry, just walks with a heavy foot. It makes it nearly impossible for him to sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to say, “guess who?”

“Baby, you’re making me look bad–holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie’s jaw basically hits the floor as he takes in the sight of you before him. You’re kneeling on the bed, wearing nothing but a sheer pink bra, a tiny matching g-string, and black thigh-high boots. “When did you–how did you–can I just touch you? Please?”

It seems bizarre, Eddie asking you for permission. He’s usually the dominant one, making you beg for an iota of pleasure. You’re taken aback for a moment before replying, “of course.”

His hands immediately fall to the swell of your breasts, thumbs easily finding your nipples through the gauzy material. “Don’t even know where to start,” he mumbles. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Tell me what to do, Sweetheart. Please. I’ll do anything you say.” 

“Touch me, Eds. Need…need you to touch me.”

“Tell me where, baby,” he begs. “You’re in charge tonight. Want you to use me.”

The idea of bossing Eddie around is so foreign to you, and it takes you a beat before you can figure out exactly what you want. Your whole body buzzes with need. “Let me ride your thigh,” you murmur, “and while I do that, you’re gonna suck on my tits.”

Eddie nods, lifting you onto the bed and placing you on his lap. He starts to unhook your bra, but you shove his hands away.

“Did I say you could do that?” you snap, feeling more confident in your dominance.

Eddie gives you a confused look. “N-No,” he stammers, “but you said–”

“I said to suck on my tits. You can get me fully naked once you make me come. Got it?” When he just nods again, you tilt his chin upwards towards you. “Good boys use their words, Eddie.”

“S-Sorry.”

You sigh impatiently. “Don’t apologize; just tell me you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I won't get you naked until you come.” He swallows thickly, leaning in and bringing his lips to your clothed nipples. One hand rests on the middle of your back, but he stops before using the other one to cup your ass. “Can I please touch your ass?”

You kiss him, biting his lower lip as you pull back. “Since you asked so nicely.” He whimpers lightly, grabbing the soft flesh in his strong palms. For a brief moment, he looks like he wants to spank you–which he typically does–but quickly remembers his new role. His mouth returns to your tits, lapping and sucking on them hungrily. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, grinding down on his upper leg. ‘Keep your hands right here; that’s my good boy. Don’t let them move or I might not let you come.” 

“Won’t move,” he promises meekly, “take whatever you need. ‘M your fucktoy to use.”

You suck a harsh bruise into the nape of his neck, licking over it once you finish. “And what a sweet little fucktoy you are, hm? All mine, and ‘m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” You tug his shirt above his head and leave a trail of hickeys across his chest. Already started to feel pent up and overstimulated, Eddie instinctively begins bouncing his leg up and down. “Stay still,” you order him, ‘hold me and stay fucking still. Fucktoys don’t move.”

“Could I, um…could I kiss your neck?” Eddie asks, and you can’t help but note the slight whine in his tone. “Please, baby? ‘S my favorite spot…” He pouts as you shake your head.

“Tell you what,” you reason, still grinding your needy cunt on his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s leaving a damp patch on the denim, turning both of you on even more. “If you let me come, I’ll let you kiss my neck.” The friction is driving you wild, and you dig your fingernails into his bare back. “Fuck, Eddie. ‘S like your body was made to get me off.” 

You watch as his hand instinctively snakes down towards his erection, palming at it pathetically. A tiny whine escapes his lips as you pull it away and push him back onto the bed. “Trying to cheat the system?” you taunt him, rummaging through the dresser drawer until you find what you’re looking for. “Sit over there,” you motion towards the chair tucked under your vanity, “and put your hands behind you.” Eddie does as he’s told, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. The shiny silver handcuffs glint as you snap them around his wrists. “This is what happens when you can’t follow directions.”

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” he gulps, but you’ve already devised a new way to torture him. Slipping off your panties and unclasping your bra, you let both fall to the floor. You’re left only in the thigh-high boots. “Wan’ touch,” he mumbles, knowing that the effort is fruitless. Instead, he watches as you get down on your knees, pulling at his belt buckle and unfastening his button and fly. When you take his cock out of his boxers, he lets out an audible sigh of relief. He thinks I’m gonna blow him, you realize, a suspicion that’s only confirmed when he says, “Yes, baby, please.”

You tut disapprovingly as you make your way back to the drawer, purposely bending over a bit more than is necessary to give him a better view of your ass. Grinning, you slide a cockring down his shaft and press the tiny plastic power button. Eddie yelps out as the toy begins vibrating around the base of his length.

“Now,” you say, bringing yourself back to your position on his thigh, “I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you to.” He’s too overstimulated to respond, so you take his face in your hand and turn it so he’s looking into your eyes. “I said, good boys use their words.”

“Okay, yes, shit, I w-won’t come.”

You rub your clit against his naked thigh, faster until you feel your orgasm about to hit. His upper leg is covered in your slick, and you throw back your head in utter pleasure as you finish. “Such a good fucktoy, letting me come all over him. You’re so fucking good to me, Eddie.”

The praise combined with the vibrations and your own orgasm is too much for him to handle, and he groans out a loud string of curses. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his cock, pooling in the thatch of curls at the base. “Shit, ‘m so sorry–I didn’t mean to–”

But you just kiss him, roughly and deeply, effectively shutting him up. “That was really hot,” you murmur into his ear, before dropping to your knees again. This time, you use your tongue to clean him up, swallowing every last drop. “And delicious.”

Eddie writhes against the chair, and you let him out of the restraints. “Baby, any time you wanna be in charge, just…just fuckin’ do it, holy shit.” He pauses before adding, “and wear those boots, too.”

“Okay,” you say, shooting him a salacious grin, “how does ten minutes sound?”

--

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 21 thoughts

a fantastic episode yesterday, and… a SKINNER episode today?!?! what kind of journey are we in for?!!!

LITTLE DID I KNOW!!! for i simply had no idea that a skinner episode is EXACTLY what i needed!!! it is the thing i did not order but that hit the spot precisely!!! it was a thing i couldn’t predict!!!

but who would have thought it? a glimpse into the life of such a secretive man… and a beautiful one, at that!! wow!! i’m emotional over WALTER SKINNER! how unexpected, but also inevitable….

let us begin this journey, which went in so many directions

let us read this episode description. skinner, a murderer…. hmm. it’s not really adding up to me... in this context, at least. has he killed people? yes, definitely. but a random person? seems sloppy. seems weird. seems that someone is framing him…

we open with our friend walter.

IS SKINNER GETTING A DIVORCE?????

this is not how i expected the episode to start!

oh, he won’t sign the papers. he says he’ll do it tomorrow. skinner is SAD :( he’s putting his coat on and leaving!!!!! he does not want to get divorced it seems.

wait, an emotional skinner like two minutes in……. woah. we’re in for a rollercoaster here, i can tell (author's note: op was correct)

noooo, sad skinner at a bar. someone sits next to him. this woman is pretty and sits next to him to escape a guy who wouldn’t stop talking to her. a gentleman!

she asks if being alone bothers him and OH! cutscene to sex. well. this escalated quickly. 

PAUSE. is this the first sex scene in this show??? and it’s SKINNER??? if you would have told me that fact a few months ago when i started this show, i would have laughed at you…

omg yeah... i think it is the first on-camera sex scene in this show?? in the past there hasn’t been much (thinking of 3, which is an episode i purposely choose to forget except for right now, and i am ONLY thinking of it to remember how the precedent was established) and they just cut to waking up the next morning. but no, not here. here we get the full show. 

well! he seems to be having fun, at least. 

OH??? until an old lady is on top of him and screaming? 

fun has been cancelled.

that seems to have been a terrible nightmare. but what is not a nightmare is that the woman next to him is DEAD!!!

huh???

my guess…. a slow acting poison??

poor skinner…… he literally cannot catch a break.

oh my goodness, how are our agents going to react to this news….? i would be so embarrassed if my employees knew who i was hooking up with……. and also that she died…..

mulder at da scene. he wants to talk to skinner but he isn’t allowed to talk to him!!!

his phone rings and scully is driving in absolute POURING RAIN and idk why it made me laugh. she was like in a damn flood and flooring it to get where she needed to be lmaoooo

skinner says not to get involved. yeah okay. unstoppable force (mulder on a quest for answers) meet immovable object (skinner)

OH! so it was NOT poison that killed her, and actually her neck was broken. so i guess i didn’t see that. which is probably good because i would have gagged.

this detective is being a jerk to mulder. saying that skinner is suspicious for not taking a lie detector test as if a lie detector test can prove a damn thing (hint: it cannot!) but mulder still gives him his card so they can call and chat

LMAOOOO he was on the phone with scully for all of that exchange with the detective, and she is STILL just trying to get through what looks like a hurricane!!! but she is on her way!!!! he says let’s go look at the body 

still at the crime scene, mulder sees the body’s outline and sighs deeply, realizing his colleague is in trouble

scully is narrating the autopsy into her little voice recorder thing, and it always makes me think she’s vlogging, but i digress. she says the victim’s spine was crushed, and only skinner’s prints were on the body.

mulder makes a stupid remark about “at least they were having safe sex” because really, what DO you say when your boss is a murder suspect, and the body is right in front of you? well! many of us will never have to answer this question. funny how he needs to have a Quip to cope, though. don't think i haven't noticed.

her name was carina, and she was a legal secretary who was fired for working as an escort. they truly hate to see a woman get her side hustle on.

scully looks so sad and confused at all of this, but turns the light out and the body’s face is glowing in the dark around the mouth!!! so she pulls out her recorder and makes note of that. it’s like if you split the juice in a glow stick on there. so maybe there WAS poison afoot?!

(author's note: literally no poison at all in this ep idk i was just really convinced there would be... it is important i also include my predictions that flop so you know i have journalistic integrity)

mulder and scully at someone’s door. the person who answers says lorraine is busy, and he says “busy or not, we need to speak with her” and barges in and AGAIN. the way these two just enter a room so forcefully always makes me lose my mind. someone please make a youtube complication of this someday. they are NOT vampires they do not need to be invited in 😭

lorraine, the head of the escort agency, wants to do their questioning later and they break the news carina is dead. she does not want to tell them who hired her, for it goes against their practice. but mulder is ANGRY and gets her to confess that it was, in fact, skinner.

the agents are walking out, asking what was he thinking, and i am wondering the same thing!! she says they can’t ignore the evidence, but mulder is refusing to believe that skinner could be responsible. oh mulder, your faith in those you love really is admirable.

she brings up that they really don’t know much about skinner, but he says that we know he’s risked a lot for us, and that they owe it to him to find the truth. another case of both things being true, which happens often with these two.

oooo this is juicy, i’m INVESTED!!!

conveniently timed cell phone call! skinner has been released. mulder runs to go get him and skinner says it doesn’t concern him, but mulder says of course it does, and damn, i’m just now realizing how attached to skinner mulder must be, how he sounds like a scared little kid hoping against hope he’s innocent, because the people you love can’t do bad things, right? AUGHHHHH how mulder must look for safety in all the places he didn’t get it growing up. i’m gonna be sick. of course it concerns us! <- yeah. making note to analyze this in depth later because it felt like piercing me through the heart.

skinner is gagged by their revelation that carina was a sex worker, which means something is afoot here, because he was supposed to be the one that hired her...

but when he looks behind them, he sees that creepy old woman again!!! omg i had forgotten about her!!!! she’s in a bright red rain jacket. 

and he runs into traffic after her (he does get hit by a car but it's the least of his worries) but when he goes to get her… it’s someone else?? with brown hair and blue eyes and not a creepy old lady at all. it’s his WIFE!!!!! WIFE REVEAL!!!!! 🎊

so the agents and sharon skinner are chatting. scully wants to know if he’s always been so private. “he lives under this misguided notion that silence is strength” is what his wife has to say, which is both poignant and read him for filth, sharon. so that is why they separated, and have been for about 8 months.

oh! mulder was one of the few people skinner ever mentioned from work!!! she knows he respects him, so she asks him if he really killed that woman. mulder says he doesn’t think skinner did it, but they have to go now. 

some guy named special agent bonnecaze is at skinner’s desk. and the agents are wanted at a hearing for skinner’s ability to keep his job!!! this bonnecaze says they’re not allowed to go sleuthing about. mulder is very very angry.

(what separates a special agent from a regular agent? this is probably a simple internet search, but isn't it more fun to post your thoughts? google says pretty much everyone at the federal level involved in crime investigation is a special agent. so if they're ALL special agents it can't be that special)

back to the office, where mulder is chomping on his pen, and skinner won’t answer his phone. scully notes that he is “doing everything he shouldn’t be doing” which is probably on purpose, RIGHT?? RIGHT?!

and scully looks so beautiful…. she’s concerned about skinner's state of mind, and what else he might be capable of. mulder seems frustrated that she would suspect him, but she explains that genuinely she IS giving him the benefit of the doubt, in the sort of tone you use when you are deeply apologizing to someone, hand on her chest. she can clearly see how attached mulder is to this whole situation. an empath...

scully thinks that maybe something else is going on… she’s playing a video of a man who had REM sleep behavior disorder and relived getting hit by a train each night until he broke his wife’s arm. she is in doctor mode talking about sleep related stuff. and the clinic that film came from WAS WHERE SKINNER HAD BEEN RECEIVING TREATMENT FOR THE PAST 3 MONTHS!!! gasp!! for the same condition!

so he sees an old woman attacking him in his sleep, and maybe he had attacked carina thinking it was her. scully is playing with her necklace as this theory is proposed.

mulder is like, yes i have heard of something like this, a succubus. and he puts his pen in his mouth and grabs a big book off the shelf!!! wow i love that he has a book mentioning medieval spirits in his office :,) maybe need to get one of those for mine.

oh! and his book claims there can be residue left behind… like the stuff she found… scully is pulling a "mulder, you're never gonna believe this" mentally

back to the body. but now her mouth isn’t glowing in the dark! but she had taken a sample… and when sent to the lab for analysis, they found nothing!!!

mulder asks if she is SURE she saw something, and she is like yeah i wouldn’t make that up?? so new theory: skinner is running from all of this because he’s afraid.

skinner is sipping something strong and someone knocks at his door. it’s sharon in a big red raincoat! he didn’t get her calls because he unplugged his phone……. says he hasn't been sleeping....

this must be where he lives now since they separated, but he hasn’t unpacked at all. she wants to make sure he’s okay! but he’s pulling the you’re my ex card. and she says, well i only initiated the divorce because YOU were too scared to do it yourself, and he says “fair enough” <- OOOOO again sharon read him for filth. still, i do not enjoy seeing him so sad.

she wants him to let his walls down, but she knows he will never let her comfort him. so she says to take care of himself and leaves :(

he pulls out their wedding day photo and AWW they’re so young :(((((

AND HE FALLS ASLEEP HOLDING IT. STOP, AM I GOING TO CRY OVER A MAN NAMED WALTER?????????

sleepy time interrupted by screaming. it’s the old lady in the red rain coat just absolutely letting it out, and then she leaves. but there is a REAL knock at the door, and it’s the detective!!!

NO! he says sharon was in an accident!! WHAT IS GOING ON??? skinner’s terrified… and they want the keys to his car…. HE WAS SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!!! HE DID NOT DO THAT SHIT!!!

so he is at the police station and mulder is also here, reporting that sharon is in surgery. but he says they’re building a case against him!!!

mulder clarifies he doesn’t think that skinner did it, but scully doesn’t understand why he isn’t trying to defend himself. and mulder’s doing the angry man thing where he puts his hands on his hips and pushes his jacket back and hnhbbbbhmmmmmmppllhghgh

nooooo skinner :( he’s so angry :( he doesn’t know what is going on or what to believe :(

so mulder asks about the old woman- which they know about from reading his files- and yells that if he doesn’t start trusting someone, he doesn’t stand a chance. whew! he has had enough of this silence!!!

(oh my phone is gonna die hold on. break to procure a charger. charger secured. CHARGER ISN’T WORKING?? omg… now it is… crisis averted)

so skinner started seeing her “again” a few months ago… he’s talking about what happened to him in vietnam, how he was a sole survivor of an ambush. he says he got through the experience by numbing himself with whatever he could, and he “inhaled”, so he assumed she was another hallucination. and she watched him watch himself die, but she carried him back away from the light. 

mulder proposes she was trying to protect him them and still is now. but he doesn’t know from what!! he is so sad!!

GASP!!! CUTSCENE TO CANCER MAN WATCHING THIS ALL GO DOWN?????

ANOTHER EVIL CIG MAN PLOT?!?!?

so skinner’s car matches the damage on sharon’s car, and allegedly the hood of his car was still warm when the detectives got to his house and brought him in for questioning. mulder asks for a flashlight and gets in the car despite the hearing being in a half hour. oh! he’s slicing out the air bag?

bringing the air bag to the lab guy, who can turn the air bag into a facial pattern of whoever it crashed into. is this a thing that can happen??? big if true.

scully at the hearing. mulder not there!! so they just begin.

she’s trying to explain the mouth glow situation, and special agent bonnecaze basically accuses her of hiding stuff; she says she’s reluctant to speak for mulder, but he thought it came from a “visitation”. she has no other explanation! 

(wow, i love that she admits she has no idea here. you can tell who is intelligent by seeing who is willing to admit to not having all of the answers. it's a small thing but it says a lot about her character <3)

they ask her if she believes in paranormal phenomena, and she dodges the question by saying she views everything “through the lens of science”. a measured response. but they’re asking if skinner has become “enchanted by agent mulder’s notions” HUH?? what da hell does that mean? anyway, she says no. 

bonnecaze accuses her of protecting skinner by exaggerating the unexplained elements of the case, which she ENTIRELY refutes. and when she tries to say that she is NOT finished, they say she is. OHHH the bastards. 

scully calls mulder but he’s right behind her lololol. anyway, it’s no laughing matter that skinner is OUT OF A JOB. she says he would have had a better chance against a firing squad. and they used the x files to justify getting rid of him!! he thinks "they’re" doing it to hurt the x files, whoever they may be!!! (presumably cig man and his UN alien club??)

so mulder has a graph that looks like pixel art of whoever stole skinner's car that night and his sharon. "they" couldn’t try to kill him again, so a set up would be less obvious. it makes sense.

i think the lab guy’s name is danny?? well they can’t figure out who thief is, who must have also been the fellow who hired carina. 

oh no! now they’re at the scene of another crime. it’s the lady who runs the escort agency! she jumped off a building :( or it was staged to look like that

but they see the woman who answered the door when they visited her place of work!!! her name is judy. and she says that the pixel art man who hired carina said no one would get hurt!!!! so this dude stole skinner’s card!!! 

(is it krycek. i can’t stand him any longer!)

due to lorraine being dead, she can’t talk with this mystery client, so they ask judy to set up a meeting with him, to pretend she needs money to get out of town. she calls some unnamed men on the phone to arrange this meeting.

and the men on the phone are not krycek, but they ARE watching this all go down from their car!!!!!! WHO ARE THESE FREAKS!!!!

skinner is going to see sharon. and she can’t hear him but he’s telling her he’s not signing the divorce papers :( he says he can’t tell her the terrible things he has seen…. and that she was what got him through each day, knowing he had a reason to wake up :( NOOOOO

and as he smooches her forehead her monitor starts going off!!!!!!! but then he sees her turn into the scary old woman!!!!!! who looks out at him and beckons. so he goes back in and grabs the hand of the old woman but it’s actually his wife again!!!!!!! she says to listen to her. WHAT IS IT!!! what does she KNOW!!!

mulder at the bar where they planned the set up. sipping something and looking good, yeah yeah. the men who set this whole thing up are arriving. 

while scully and judy are upstairs and oh my god scully. she is so beautiful. both of these bastards are so utterly beautiful. 

sighs wistfully…….

well, whoever it is they’re waiting on isn’t showing up. but there’s a movement at the door! and she says mulder, get up here right now!!!

scully with her gun out in the hotel room……. the suspense…….. she finds judy in the bathroom but SOMEONE ELSE IS BEHIND HER!!!

it’s the guy from before, who was on the phone with judy!! and he’s firing his gun!! scully is on the ground but she seems unhurt beyond the head slamming??

WAIT! it isn’t that scary phone guy who fired his gun!! it was SKINNER!!! who shot whoever set this whole operation up!!!

SKINNER TELEPORTATION TO THE SCENE....

judy is crying and scully is on the floor still, but it seems all is well in the world?

back to skinner’s office!!! which is rightfully his office again!!!

they bring him the report on the case, and there are lots of unanswered questions, including who that dude who was shot was. there is no identity whatsoever.

OH! mulder points out that there is no explanation as to why skinner was at the hotel last night, so please fill out that line yourself. which he says he can’t do, because it has no place in a report.

so mulder asks skinner to tell him what happened, off the record, and scully is waiting with bated breath… and he says he has some catching up to do. mulder kind of looks like someone just kicked him but he walks away :(

(oh mulder, funny how you're trying to get him to break these walls down, but you have some pretty damn solid walls of your own. now you know how it must feel... i jest, but it is so sad to see him unable to connect to skinner in the way he wants to. nevertheless, this is a happy ending)

skinner puts his wedding ring back on!!! and gets back to work!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT!!!!!!! 

omg. so much to unpack here. i kind of assumed we would never get any skinner lore beyond his vietnam story, so this was a deeply welcome surprise. earlier i was very suspicious of him- you may recall some posts where i repeatedly say things along the lines of "i don't trust this guy"- but you can see how the narrative is shifting, how now we are supposed to trust him after he has done so much for scully and mulder. and it is very interesting to see how he operates, how he tries to put on that strong facade, and how it needs to crumble for him to move forward.

so, i think that there are two things at play here: one, someone who was trying to frame skinner for the murder and the attempted killing of his wife, and two, the whole situation with the scary old lady. we know the scary old lady was the one he saw in vietnam, and the one he attributes to saving his life, so it makes sense to think that some sort of guardian angel spirit would show up to him as an attempt to make him realize that he was losing what really mattered to him (sharon) due to his own fear. so even though she is scary looking, she led him to sharon, and appeared when he was with another woman as if to scare sense into him.

now, what is LESS clear is who did the killing! we know his prints were found on her, but did they check everything? how does that even work? maybe he strangled her in his sleep on accident, but given that someone else paid her to be there that evening, it would make more sense that someone else did it, no? except they said there was no sign of any intruders... so perhaps whoever it was who set that whole scenario up knew enough about him to know that was a possibility. in that case, they must have access to his medical records and know about his visions.....

must be the work of the cig man and his cronies.

so, if you accidentally kill someone in your sleep... how do you proceed from there?

well, i guess it doesn't matter, because he got his job back.

interesting to explore the concept of a guardian angel sort of creature as a being of terror, to shock you out of the mistakes you make that ruin your life. and it doesn't explain the glowy mouth or succubus allegations, but hey, there's always some stuff that doesn't entirely add up!

overall, i thought this was a really great episode. it was very different from the last one, but the tone shift didn't feel drastic and uncomfortable. i'm really interested in how mulder handled this whole thing, how he clearly has these projections for what he wants skinner to be and how he wants him to act, as if he's idolizing him. i think that is very fascinating and i will be mentally chewing on that for a while. and scully being willing to admit what she does not know, and observe what she cannot explain... mmm, it's just delicious to me.

so huh! i'm pleased! shoutout to walter, sharon, and the sleep demon that saved their marriage

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hi, me again, this time with the prompt "6. coffee in bed" 🙏

Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on AO3!

Buck has long since resigned himself to the fact that his sleep schedule is well and truly fucked. 24 hour shifts were all well and good in his 20s, but now at the ripe old age of 32 he collapses as soon as he gets home like someone’s hit a hard reset switch, and he never knows if he’ll wake up in an hour or ten. Frankly, he doesn’t know how Bobby is still upright, though he’d never say it to his face.

So, blinking awake on a Sunday (maybe) morning (possibly) in June, he has no idea how long he’s been down. His eyes are glued shut, so probably a while. He throws an arm out and it smacks immediately into Eddie, who grunts.

“Morning?” It’s sort of a greeting and sort of a question, and he feels weight shift on the bed as Eddie cranes to check the clock.

“9:15.”

“Mm.” Buck scrubs a hand over his face and blinks open his eyes. Eddie looks like he's just been taken out of one of those vacuum seal bags you pack your clothes in when you're trying to save space in a suitcase, and Buck has to lean over and kiss him about it.

"Oh my god, Buck," Eddie mumbles, pushing him away with his whole hand smushed against his face. "Did you eat roadkill for dinner?"

"Don't you insult Bobby's casserole like that." Buck goes for Eddie's neck instead but ends up yawning against his jugular. "Fuck. I'm gonna get coffee." He starts to roll over but Eddie slings an arm around him and pulls him back down.

"It's being taken care of," he says, burying his face into Buck's shoulder. "Act surprised."

Buck makes a questioning face at him, but his boyfriend is busy being half asleep again and nuzzling his pec, so he just lays there squinting at the ceiling and wondering if Eddie has developed some sort of coffee based telekinesis. He's started thinking about practical applications in the field (does it have to be hot coffee? How big a container can it be in? Can they just start remotely dumping venti iced lattes on fires?) when Chris enters the room, carefully transporting two mugs. Eddie flops onto his back and then flops upright, passing the mugs to Buck and pulling Chris down for a kiss on the forehead.

"Happy father's day," Chris says, only scrunching his nose a little at the display of affection.

"Thanks, kid," Eddie smiles at him, already flapping a hand at Buck to get his coffee back. He takes a sip as Chris leaves the room again, and Buck holds onto the other warm ceramic in his hands, suddenly feeling very awake and a little awkward.

"Uh- I can head out, if you want."

Eddie squints at him over his coffee. "Why?"

Buck waves towards the kitchen. "You know, if you and Chris want to spend the day together."

Eddie's still making a face at him. "Buck-"

Whatever he was going to say is interrupted by Chris returning, even more carefully balancing a tray of food in his arms. He sets it down on the bed and Eddie eagerly pulls it over, grabbing a waffle piled high with whip cream.

"Cards first!" Chris admonishes, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, o-kay, okay," Eddie laughs, picking up one of two folded pieces of paper tucked under the plates.

"Two cards!" Buck grins, stretching his foot under the covers to nudge Chris. "Your dad's a lucky guy."

Chris makes the same face his dad had just been making. "One's for you, Buck."

Buck's pretty sure his face makes the exact expression of the emoticon with the colon and the capital o. "Me?"

"Yeah," Chris says, like obviously Buck gets a father's day card, duh, don't be stupid. Buck kind of just freezes there, rebooting, until Eddie grabs the paper and swaps it with the mug still clutched in his hand and he looks down to read it automatically.

On the front, in suspenseful italic, are the words "When Rodan flaps his wings…" and Buck coughs out a laugh, remembering last month's Godzilla night where they'd stayed up way too late watching movies while Eddie was covering for someone on B shift. He opens the card and doesn't start crying immediately, thank you, he lasts a few seconds with dry eyes. On the inside is a full spread drawing of the fiery pteranodon looming over the city of Los Angeles. On the bottom left a firefighter stands on a rooftop, blasting him in the face with a hose. Written in the sky is "... Buck saves the day!"

"Told you he'd cry," Eddie says, smug. Buck tries to glare at him but he's just a big blur through the tears.

"You're so mean to me," he croaks, reaching out blindly for moral support from Christopher, the superior Diaz. Chris shuffles over and wraps him in a hug which, oh boy, doesn't help the crying situation. "Th-thank you," he manages to get out, clinging to the kid a little and fully expecting him to pull away all huffy and teenager-like.

Chris just rests his head against Buck's. "You've been my dad, like, forever," he says quietly, and, really, it's too early in the day to be put through a trash compactor like this. "I probably should have made more cards to make up for the other years."

Buck makes a sound like "gk!" and feels Eddie's hand on his side. "Well, we don't want him to actually keel over. That would be an embarrassing ambulance ride."

Buck laughs, and it sounds wet and gross, and then kisses the side of Chris's head, which probably feels wet and gross. "I love you, so much."

"I know," Chris says, grinning. "I love you too, Buck. Eat your waffle. I put sprinkles on it!"

Buck laughs again, and pulls Chris up onto the bed with them to share. He's big, growing up so quick, and two grown men and a teenager are a pretty cramped fit on a queen mattress, but none of the three members of this family that Buck somehow, miraculously belongs to minds the proximity.

"Happy father's day, Buck," Eddie says, eyes heart twistingly soft as he kisses Buck's cheek. "Glad you're here with me. With us."

Buck makes a face as his eyes start stinging again, and covers Chris's eyes so he can lean forward and kiss Eddie on the mouth, quick. "No place I'd rather be."

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Twelve*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

You didn’t know what was said in the brief meeting that Elvis had with the Colonel the following morning, but a photo op was ordered for an announcement that would be in the papers.

“A photo op?”

“They want a good shot of us for the paper. A more formal introduction for the public.”

You frowned as you were pressured to choose your look for the photo.

“I don’t know. I can’t decide.”

“I like this one.” Elvis pointed out a lime dress with a pink pattern.

“It’s too loud, isn’t it?” You tilted your head as you examined the material.

“Suits the mood.”

“If you say so.”

He was forced out of the room so you could dress and go through hair and makeup. Soon you were preparing to head out for the photo.

“I knew you’d look perfect,” He said when he saw you. “The camera’s gonna love you, baby.”

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” You ask. “The makeup and the dress—it’s not like me.”

“It’s perfect,” He promised. “You’re my girl now so you hafta keep up your appearance.”

“Did I do a bad job at keeping it up before?”

“Oh, you did just fine.” He kissed your cheek and a camera flashed, signaling the arrival of the photographer.

“Let’s get the two of you outside,” He said instructed promptly. “Colonel wants this sent to the press by the end of the night.”

“Why?” You wondered.

“Come on, baby, let’s go outside,” Elvis said, putting his arm around you. “It’s just something he does. He knows how to…appeal to certain audiences.”

You stepped out onto the porch, stopping just before the first step and facing him. “And what audience are we appealing to now?”

“Those good, old, vanilla sons of bitches you always hear about,” He said, making you laugh. “They’re upset now, but they just need to see us kissin and huggin and lovin on each other. As a way to, y’know, convince them that I actually love you and that I’m not taking you in as a concubine.”

“Is that what people are saying?”

“People are saying a lot.”

The photographer gave the two of you instructions on what to do and you went around taking pictures for at least thirty minutes. You never thought taking a photo could take so long.

“Let’s have one with you sitting down and her standing next to you,” He said, gesturing for you to move onto the steps. “Put your hand on his shoulder.”

“How much longer, boss?” Elvis asked—you could tell he was getting restless.

“Just a few more.” He snapped the photos in a rush and finished up, true to his word. “Alrighty, I’m gonna get these to print and they should start circulating in no time.”

The photos were circulating that night. You had only seen a few pages of different newspapers, they all said relatively positive things.

“Where are the bad ones?” You asked.

“The what?” Elvis responded, appearing from the bathroom.

“The bad ones.”

“What’re you talkin about?

You crossed your arms. “Where are all the articles from the people that were standing out there crying their eyes out, ready to take my head off?”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know, birdie. I brought those so you could see how the pictures came out, not so you could catch up on the latest hit pieces.”

“You can’t shield me from them, E, I have to see them,” You said. “It’ll just make things harder if I don’t.”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off not getting too caught up in the press,” He said, joining you in bed. “They chew you up and spit you out. I don’t want that to happen to you. Not my baby birdie.”

You pouted but moved on. “This one’s saying that the coat I was wearing when we got off the plane is sold out now. Do you think that’s true?”

“Enough of this,” He said, taking the pages from you and sweeping them to the ground.

“No~”

“You’ve had enough.”

The phone rang, cutting your rebuttal short. Elvis stood and snatched off the hook. You went to gather the papers from the ground—stacking them neatly on the bed.

“Who was it?” You asked when he hung up.

“I have a surprise for you downstairs,” He said.

“For me?” You chuckled. “What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Come on. Liz is here to get you ready.”

“That poor woman,” You said with a frown. “I can do my own hair and makeup.”

“I know, but she knows how I like it.” He took your hands in his and brought them up to his lips.

You hummed thoughtfully and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Do you like the way she does it, baby?”

His eyes darkened and his lips turned up in a smirk. “Don’t you?”

“If you like it, I love it.” You smiled, standing up on your toes to kiss him. “Get out of here so I can change.”

“It’s not gonna be good you keep winding me up and not letting me sing,” He said, pulling your body against his. “I might not be able to keep showing so much restraint.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You said. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

“Then do what you want with me.”

There’s a knock on the door, signaling Elizabeth Monroe’s arrival. Elvis had her hired as your full time stylist and makeup artist. Apparently he had instructed her on exactly how you should be styled.

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” He had said when he introduced the two of you.

She didn’t say much as she dressed you, she said even less as she applied your makeup. You figured she was just concentrating on her work.

“Do you like it?” She asked after all was said and done.

“Yes, thank you.” You examined your face in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

She met your eyes in your reflection and nodded. “He will.”

You hesitated on your way downstairs—you still felt uneasy being around everyone. You were sure they talked about you when you weren’t around.

Elvis appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “There you are.”

Your anxiety was relieved at the sight of him. “What do you think?”

“You’re perfect,” He said just as someone came to the door. “It’s for you.”

He took you by the hand and went to open the door. Your eyes widened when you saw Andrea standing there.

“Oh my god,” You said with a stunned smile, looking up at Elvis. “Why?”

“I thought it’d cheer you up after the week you’ve had,” He said before addressing her. “Andrea.”

“Elvis,” She said shortly as you hugged her.

“It’s so good to see you again,” You said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well, I was summoned.” She gestured to Elvis with a sarcastic smile.

“Thank you so much for leaving your post at the gates of heaven, angel,” He responded before stepping forward to kiss your cheek. “I’ll let you ladies do whatever it is that you do.”

“Thank you, E.”

“You’re welcome, birdie.”

You watched him leave before facing Andrea. She looked around the foyer with her arms crossed—her expression bleak.

“It’s quieter upstairs, come on.”

She nodded and followed you. You led her to the office upstairs and plopped down on the black, leather couch.

“Sit.” You laughed, patting the spot in front of you. “Tell me how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been fine.” She took a seat facing you. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in the paper.”

“Yeah, everything happened really fast,” You said. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Elvis and me.”

She looked off, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s…a lot.”

You chuckled. “Good or bad?”

“Shouldn’t you tell me?”

“Hmmm…good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

You smiled, she offered a small one in return.

“What happened to Joel from Hawaii?”

“Oh, well…we separated.”

She nodded. “Because you decided to be with Elvis?”

“Well, I mean~ It’s more complicated than that,” You said. “Elvis and I, we just…have history.”

“How far back?” Andrea asked.

“Since before I met you, I guess.” You thought for a moment. “Yeah, a while before I met you.”

“So, this mystery man was…”

“Elvis.”

She continued to look stunned but she laughed now. “For the love of god, you said he was married.”

You laughed along with her. “I had to throw you off somehow.”

“You are so full of surprises,” She said. “First you disappear without a trace, then you show up engaged, and now you’ve left that guy for his famous friend.”

“Oh, god, don’t say it like that,” You complained, laughing despite yourself. “I told you it was complicated. I tried with Joel, but…it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with Elvis.”

“Well…you’re causing riots in the streets.” You were grateful for the change in subject. “People are either tearing newspapers from store walls or breaking down the door to find your latest outfit. It’s pure chaos.”

“Really?”

“It’s like you’re famous.”

You smiled, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t know about that.”

Andrea sighed thoughtfully, falling silent for a moment. “You’re so…different now.”

“Good or bad?”

“…I can tell you’re in love.”

*

“A lot of people are convinced you don’t have a voice.”

“Are they really?”

You smiled down at Elvis—the telephone to your ear as you sat in his lap. At first you refused the interview. You didn’t want your voice broadcasted on the radio and you didn’t want your words plastered all over the paper. But Elvis talked you into it, promising to be by your side the entire time.

“You two are so different. You come from different backgrounds, he’s older~”

“Mhm~”

“You’re polar opposites really.”

“Yes.”

“What we all want to know is what you get up to. What do you talk about?”

“Oh, we get up to all kinds of stuff.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, gesturing to the slip of paper on the desk as a reminder for you to stick to the script.

“We do all the usual things.” You tilted your head to read the words from the page. “We have…very interesting conversations.”

“What’s interesting to a nineteen year old girl?”

“You should ask Elvis.”

He patted your thigh admonishingly—smirking despite himself.

“Anyway, I’m almost twenty.”

“What do you talk about, almost twenty?”

“You’re so funny.”

“Humor us here in radioland.”

“We talk about all kinds of things. He’s an intellectual.”

“He teaches you a lot, huh?”

“Sure.”

“There are some fans out there that refuse to believe the two of you are the real thing. What do you say to them?”

“I understand, honestly. I can’t believe it myself sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at that one—cutting an eye at Elvis.

“There’s talk of marriage, any truth to that?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Folks are saying there’s gonna be some serious consequences if you aren’t married.”

“…Is that what they’re saying in radioland?”

“Does that scare you?”

“…Stick to the script, Quincy.”

The interview came to an end and you looked at Elvis with a serious expression. He laughed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“‘Serious consequences?’”

“Oh, birdie~”

“Don’t tell me not to worry.”

He tilted his head, smiling at you silently. You stood with a sigh and grabbed your cigarettes off the corner of the desk.

“Tell me what they’re saying,” You demanded. “Andrea tells me what they say in the paper, E, you can’t keep it from me.”

“They want us to get married.”

“So I’ve heard. Why?”

“Hell if I know. These people want something different every goddamn day. It’s just another thing.”

You struck a match and lit the end of your cigarette. “What are they saying is gonna happen if we don’t?”

He shrugged. “They’ll ban me across the country on the basis of morality, send us to jail, hang us from the ceiling, and whatever else they can come up with. Shit, maybe they’ll send us to the fucking moon. I have no idea what they say in those meetings.”

You took a drag from your cigarette. “How can they force people to do things like this?”

“I don’t know, but we’re sorting everything out as best we can.”

“You keep saying that.”

“And you keep wasting your time worrying.” He rounded the desk, leaning against the front of it as he spoke. “What’s the worst that can happen? We end up having to get married?”

“Yes, Elvis, that’s the worst that can happen,” You said. “That means they have all the control.”

“No one has all the control. It’s a bunch of people sitting around talking, that’s all it is.”

“The last time a bunch of people sat around talking about you you got shipped to Germany.”

“Goddamnit, birdie, will you let it go?”

You turned to leave the office, too annoyed to say anything else, but he caught your arm and made you face him.

“I’m not gonna let anything hurt you or take you away,” He said. “Not when I just got you back.”

You met his eyes without speaking—your jaw set.

“I’ll handle it. Alright?”

“…Alright.”

You weren’t sure what decisions were made or who had put everything together, but, soon, you were getting married.

You had woken up on the eve of your wedding day—unbeknownst to you—to Liz laying out different designs for hair, makeup, and your dress. When you asked where Elvis had gone you were told that he and the rest of the guys were already in Nevada.

“We have these.” Liz showed you the dresses in a hurry. “We can get the dress of your choice fitted and altered overnight. That way it’ll be ready tomorrow morning.”

“What is happening?” You asked, bewildered. “I need to talk to Elvis, right now.”

“There’s no time. You’re leaving as soon as Andrea gets here.”

As if on cue, Andrea came bustling through the door—luggage in tow. “There’s the bride-to-be~”

“Andrea, do you have any idea what’s going on?” You asked. “Who’s orchestrating all of this?”

“I don’t know.” She looked concerned now. “Jerry called me last night and told me that Parker wanted everybody here by eight this morning.”

“Liz, who told you to be here?”

“Parker.”

You looked around the room and stopped one of the people packing your bags. You asked them the same question, although you were already sure of the answer.

“The Colonel.”

You groaned, this couldn’t be happening. The entire place was in chaos around you.

“I’m sorry, but you have to choose now,” Liz said apologetically.

Andrea tried to aid you in making a decision. You could’ve cried at the thought of choosing your wedding dress fifteen minutes after waking up on what you had assumed would be a normal day. You had minutes to contemplate your decision as Liz dressed you in the clothes you would be traveling in.

“I like the V-cut. Don’t you?” Andrea asked

“I don’t know,” You said. “What do you think he’d want, Liz?”

“For christ sake, it’s your wedding too,” Andrea said. “Which one do you want?”

“Leaving for the airport!”

Liz encouraged you to go with your first choice. “It’s the best option.”

You didn’t have time to think as you were ushered from the house. You arrived in Nevada that night after a miserable flight. At the hotel, you were rushed from the car and into the back entrance of the building.

“Where are we going?” You must’ve asked a thousand times already. You were relieved when you saw Jerry meeting you at the end of the hall. “Where is he?”

“He’s been on the phone for hours trying to sort things out with Parker,” Jerry said as he led the way. “He’s tryna to see if he can’t get this whole thing done away with.”

Jerry led you to a conference room that had a long chestnut table at the center with padded office chairs. You immediately spotted Elvis pacing on the telephone. He handed the phone off when he saw you.

“Come over here, birdie.” He guided you to the corner of the room—ducking his head as he spoke. “Are you okay? Is Andrea with you?”

“What is happening?” You asked, matching his low voice. You didn’t recognize anyone in the room apart from Elvis and Jerry. The men sitting around the end of the table all wore suits and had expressions that appeared permanently stern. They didn’t take their eyes off of you the entire time.

“Are we ready to sign the papers?”

“Nah, we’re still figuring some things.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Is this real?”

Elvis rubbed his face. “I’ve been talking to that son of a bitch for hours. He sent me here to talk to these people but they’re not budging. He keeps saying his hands are tied and there’s nothing he can do.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I have no reason not to. He’s been trying to get the public on our side.”

“This isn’t about the public.”

“It’s not?”

“Is Parker trying as hard as he could be?”

Elvis shrugged, looking off for a moment. “I don’t think they’re gonna let us leave here without signing those papers.”

He was right—they didn’t. Elvis Presley was given until midnight on that day to declare you his wife or risk a countrywide ban on the basis of morality. To which, as a direct consequence, he would be ordered to answer to all statewide warrants made for his arrest. That was only his end of the bargain, there was no telling what they’d do to you.

Your marriage was official by 11:56 that night.

The party following would be strictly for photos—a tight hour of partying for the camera and then off to bed.

“The bride needs her beauty sleep.”

You didn’t get a chance to see Elvis again until you were preparing to walk down the aisle. There had been no rehearsal, you had no idea how it was going to go.

The ceremony happened fast, like everything else. They instructed the two of you on every move you made and had you pause for photos along the way. You said your vows—the generic ones the minister told you to repeat—kissed, and you were escorted directly from the altar into a press conference.

“You just sit there and look pretty, mama,” Elvis said. “I’ll do all the talking.”

You were relieved. You were too overwhelmed by the crowd to speak. You sat by his side without tearing your gaze away from him for more than a minute. You were so deeply and devastatingly in love with him—yet you felt no emotion towards your union. You were married before your eyes and you had no time to react.

“What can we expect from the happy couple moving forward?”

“Keep an eye out for us, you’ll see.”

You were whisked away directly for your “honeymoon.” In reality, you spent hours on a plane by yourself back to Memphis—Elvis was going to be away filming in Los Angeles and you were on your way back home.

You hadn’t had a moment alone with Elvis since the night before the wedding and most of that time was spent calling around trying to get it canceled. You didn’t want to leave without speaking to him, but you didn’t get the chance.

“I need to talk to you,” You tried to tell him as he walked you to your flight. There were people on either side of each of you—obstructing the paparazzi’s view.

“Go up with Ray,” He said, gesturing to the stairway of the plane. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Elvis,” You said, still trying to get through to him.

“It’s okay, birdie.” He kissed your forehead before you were being ushered up the steps.

“No.”

“I love you, okay?”

You caught a final glimpse of his back as he was rushed to his car. You were on your way back to the house you had left in a frenzy two days prior. You should’ve felt different. Or maybe you were expecting too much.

Andrea was already at Graceland when you arrived. She greeted you as you walked through the door.

“Mrs. Presley,” She said, hugging you. “Welcome to your honeymoon.”

“Wow.” You looked around the foyer. “It’s everything I ever wanted.”

There was a party happening downstairs but you weren’t sure it had anything to do with you. There was always a party downstairs. A constant conjugation of people.

“You aren’t going to spend every day lying by the phone are you?”

“No, Andrea. I told you, I’m just tired.”

She slumped onto the end of the bed. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

You were bewildered by the question. “No, why would you ask?”

“It’s been a week since you’ve gotten out of bed.”

“It has not.”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It’s Friday.”

Time passed like that whenever he was away. You had thought you escaped that feeling forever but you were being reminded of it all over again. The days didn’t matter without him, they were too long and too demanding.

“Serena and Liz are here,” Andrea continued. She stripped the duvet from your legs and stood to turn the lights on. “There are people here to take your picture.”

You complained and shielded your eyes. “The same people from the other day?”

“The same people,” She confirmed. “They’ve been coming every day. They want you sitting somewhere downstairs.”

“Sitting?”

“That’s what they said.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s a special day.”

“Is it?”

Andrea revealed a tiny black box with a red bow wrapped around it. It only dawned on you then that you had forgotten your own birthday throughout all the hustle and bustle of the last few days. “Consider it a birthday/late wedding gift.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” You said, taking the gift. “I completely forgot about it.”

“I didn’t,” She said. “You’re my best friend.”

You were instructed to sit outside with Andrea as you were served sweet tea and lemonade.

“Where’s Nancy?”

“Maybe she didn’t want to be on film.”

They wanted footage of you around Graceland doing everyday things. They wanted insight into what your everyday life was like here—married to the king. Expect, he wasn’t here, and you were being forced to smile in his absence.

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” Andrea said in a grumble. She wasn’t too keen on being photographed but she set herself aside to avoid you looking like a lunatic having lemonade alone.

“What do they want from me?”

“Maybe we should start dancing.”

You laughed.

After the photographers left, you retreated back into the bedroom to continue to wait by the phone. Andrea griped about going out—to which you reminded her that you’d be attacked or worse if you dared to venture out.

“There has to be some way to get out and get a decent drink,” She argued. “Serena can’t call anyone?”

“I don’t want to worry her.”

“What’s his name that follows you around everywhere?”

“Ray.”

“Tell Ray to get a car and call the bar to tell them you’re coming.”

You shook your head. “I’m not supposed to go out without Elvis.”

She scoffed. “He’s probably out having the time of his life.”

“I doubt it. We can drink downstairs.”

“What is this, a five star resort?”

You smiled wearily. You didn’t want to go out anyway. The phone rang, startling you delightfully. You glanced at Andrea, who understood immediately.

“I’m going.” She stood to leave. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I’m really going to.” You laughed as she left, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“…Joel?” Your eyes widened in shock.

“Hey,” He chuckled in a tone so casual it made you ill.

“Hi.” You sounded reserved as a result of your shock.

“I-I figured I’d get you here,” He said. “I’m sorry to call out of nowhere like this I just…I saw the news.”

You deflated, eyes closed. With everything else happening you hadn’t even taken a moment to consider how Joel would feel. You felt immensely guilty that he had heard the news of everything from the media and not directly from you.

“God, Joel, I’m so sorry.” You suppressed the urge to cry. “I should‘ve called~”

“It’s fine.”

“It…it all happened so fast.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, it did.”

“I’m not just saying that, I swear,” You said. “I didn’t even know it was happening. None of us did…”

“That’s kind of what the guys were saying.”

“Do you still talk with them?”

“Yeah, we’re like family, so…”

You nodded. The circles you were tracing into your knee began to blur with tears as you spoke. “How’s New York?”

He hummed indifferently. “It’s quiet in some places.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Who knew?”

You laughed, trying not to alert him to the fact that you were crying. “Are you happy?”

“I’m figuring it out.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am.”

For some reason, you felt like you were telling a lie. You were happy. There had been moments in the past few weeks that you felt you couldn’t possibly be happier. But there was a part of you that clung to whatever heartache you had left. Perhaps you wanted to punish yourself with it or use it as a reminder that you weren��t completely heartless.

Joel was silent on the other line but you hadn’t noticed until he spoke again. “I’m glad. Congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s not why I called.”

“Why did you call?”

He seemed to hesitate before saying—

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh…well, thank you.”

“I wanted to say also…” He started. “A-And I don’t want you to think I’m tryin to talk you out of your decision or anything, it's just…it’s a lot happening all at once. It’d be a lot for anyone. So…don’t feel obligated to be something you aren’t because you love a person.”

“…Thank you for saying that.”

“…Anyway, I better let you off of here,” He said, laughing shortly. “I’ll see you in the paper I guess.”

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat. “Don’t have too much fun in New York.”

“I’ll try my best. Take care.”

“You too.”

“O-Oh and, uh, happy birthday.”

You closed your eyes, smiling softly. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Bye now,” He chuckled.

“Bye,” You said, waiting to hear the line go dead before hanging up.

You sat there for a moment, standing abruptly in search of the scrap of paper you used to write down the number of where Elvis was staying. Whoever answered gave you the run around for a while before actually putting you through.

“Who are you again?”

“His wife.”

He answered with an overly delicate tone—one that told you that his failure to touch base hadn’t gone unnoticed even by himself.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m~ What do you mean where am I, honey? I’m working.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s been a week since I’ve seen or heard from you.”

“Has it?”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday already?”

“It’s Friday.”

He tried to dismiss the argument. “You know how time slips away.”

You hummed, agitated. “Yeah, it does that when I don’t hear from you for weeks too.”

“Birdie,” He chided. “Are you checkin up on me?”

“No.” He laughed on the other line. “It’s not funny. When were you gonna call? Next month? Never? I mean, it’s my birthday today. Did you know that?”

“Did I know that?” He asked. “Of course I knew that.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not just kicked back havin a goddamn party, honey, I have shit to do while I’m here~”

“I’m not debating that, E, I just thought you’d call.”

“I was going to.”

“Were you?”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. It’s like music to my ears.”

“Elvis~”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay up here with us, I don’t think it was really a part of the plan before the wedding and everything.”

“It’s fine~”

“Next time I’m gonna bring you with me, show you what Hollywood is like. What do you think?”

“That’d be nice.”

He promised that he would make it happen. You didn’t care if you were together in Memphis or LA, you only wanted to be near him.

“How d’you like Serena and Ray?” He asked.

“I feel bad for them.” You smiled when he laughed. “I don’t see what they’re here for. I don’t go anywhere or do anything.”

“They’re there to make sure you’re taken care of, that’s all. To protect you.”

“I wouldn’t need them to protect me if you were here.”

“I know, baby. What do you want me to do?”

There was nothing he could do. He could stay on the phone and talk to you for a couple of hours but it wouldn’t do any good.

“Birdie?”

“Joel called me a minute ago.”

You weren’t trying to evoke any specific reaction, but looking back now, telling Elvis about the call seemed like nothing more than a desperate grab for attention. He didn’t sound like he felt any particular way about it when he responded.

“Did he?”

“Yes,” You said, guilelessly.

“What’d he say?” There was a slight uptake to the end of his sentence—was he irritated with you?

“Nothing really, just congratulations and everything.”

“‘Congratulations?’”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“He said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“Well, I’m sure you thought that was nice and everything, honey, but he doesn’t need to concern himself with your well-being.”

“Elvis,” You said admonishingly. “He’s an old friend.”

“Old friend my ass.” He laughed shortly. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not. It was a harmless call.”

“So harmless you’re running to tell me?”

“‘Running to tell?’ Please.”

“I don’t care if you talk to him, I just think he should speak to me first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my wife. I don’t want him getting any ideas about worming his way back in.”

You laughed, mostly at the thought of Joel ‘worming his way’ back into your life. You loved him—he loved you too, undeniably. However, you’d gone past a certain point with him and there was no going back. The spell was broken and any magic you once had with him was gone.

“I don’t think he’ll call again,” You said. “I’m telling you as a courtesy.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” He shifted on the other line with a sigh. “I’m gonna have to get offa here, baby. They need me.”

I need you, you thought. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna see about getting you and Andrea out here for the last week or so,” He said. “I’ll tell Parker it’s for the press.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That way I can keep an eye on you.”

You didn’t realize that that would be the last time the two of you would be apart for more than forty-eight hours.

You seldom parted. You were either by his side or within his vicinity. Eventually it became the new normal for you to always be together. It was uncomfortable at first, being around the guys.

You had a feeling they hated you.

*

“What?”

“Where is she?”

“Getting dressed.”

You rushed out of the bathroom—fully dressed for the day—to meet Andrea at the bedroom door. Elvis was off from filming again for a few months and your days had been filled with only each other. Andrea was there, sent by the other guys to get you away so that they could have him.

“They want you downstairs,” She said to Elvis—arms crossed and lips slightly pursed.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“What am I, your messenger?”

“Are you theirs?”

“Yeah, in exchange for some human decency.”

You stopped them before they kept going. “We were headed downstairs anyway. Right, baby?”

He put his arm around you. “That’s right, baby.”

“I actually need to talk to you about something,” Andrea said to you. “It can’t wait. It’s too important.”

You stepped towards her—concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Birdie,” Elvis said expectantly, waiting for you to come with him.

“We’re only gonna be a second,” You said with an apologetic expression as you ushered Andrea into the room. “I left something in the bathroom anyway.”

“Straight down when you’re done,” He said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smiled and he left.

“What’s wrong, Drea?”

“Nothing, I just said that so he’d go away.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been inseparable and we’re all suffering because of it.”

You laughed. “Suffering how?”

“Do you realize that I don’t know a single person in this house apart from you?” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Ray and Serena aren’t even around to talk to these days.”

“I don’t really know them either,” You said, going to the bathroom. “I haven’t even spoken to some of them.”

“It’s not the same. You’re with Elvis.” She met you at the bathroom door, watching as you opened the pill bottle that you’d gotten off the counter. “Again?”

“They help me relax,” You said. “Do you want one? They’re harmless.”

“No.” She continued watching you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you lately,” You said. “It’s so hard. Nothing exists when we’re together.”

“You poor things.”

“We should head down now.”

Andrea insisted that the two of you go for a round of cards in the sitting room or a walk outside. You agreed for a change—mostly because you felt guilty for not spending time with her.

You had managed to get away that afternoon and you decided to make it up to her. You spent the day relaxing and catching up on some self care. It was a welcomed break that you didn’t know you needed. You had gotten so caught up with her that night had fallen before you realized how late it was.

“It’s the same thing every time,” Andrea complained as you laid in her bed watching television—a fresh coat of polish adorning your nails. “Why do they even bother?”

“You really expect them to get off the island every episode?”

“Isn’t that the point?”

There was a knock at the door that cut your rebuttal short. You looked at Andrea who shrugged and stood carefully to answer it.

“What, Red?” She asked when she saw who it was, a twinge of annoyance lying under her tone.

“He wants the girl,” Red said in a similar tone, obviously forced to fetch you.

You stood to put your clothes back on—Andrea had given you something more comfortable to wear earlier.

“Is that a question or what?”

“Can you send her upstairs?”

“Please?”

“Please.”

“First of all, Red, the girl has a name, and second she’s not here.”

You stopped shuffling around the room to listen.

“What do you mean she ain’t here?”

“I mean she’s not here.”

“She’s supposed to be.”

“Well, she isn’t.”

Red sighed—you pictured him contemplating his next move. “So, what am I supposed to tell ‘im?”

Andrea laughed. “Hell if I know or care.”

“Where the hell is she, Andrea?”

“I don’t know. I’m not her keeper.”

They stood there for a moment, Andrea reveling silently. Red eventually left, mumbling under his breath about going to find you. She shut the door and faced you.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face,” She said through her laughter as she walked back over to her bed. “He’s scared shitless.”

“You shouldn’t play games like that,” You said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s going to want to know where I am.”

“I know, but let’s give him time to squirm at least,” She said, gesturing for you to sit back down. “Come on, humor me a little. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

You hesitated—you knew you had a choice whether to stay or go, you just didn’t know which outcome you’d rather face. You could stay, but you’d hardly enjoy yourself knowing Elvis would be worried. He’d think you were missing or that you ran off when Red tells him that he couldn’t find you. But leaving meant ruining the night for Andrea, and you were supposed to be making up for abandoning her.

She spoke again. “You can call and tell him you’re with me if it’ll make you feel better. Or you can go, really. It’s just a stupid joke.”

You shook your head, forcing a short laugh as you spoke. “N-No. You’re right.”

“About what?”

“I-I don’t know…you’re always right.”

You laughed nervously and rejoined her on the bed. The phone rang—you both knew who it was.

“Don’t answer it,” You said before she could. “It’s fine.”

The silence between the two of you as the phone rang out was tense, and uncomfortable—at least it was for you. Eventually it stopped ringing and all that remained was the sound of the television.

“Do you think they’ll make it out this time?”

“I sure hope so.”

[bengiyo]

I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama Ep 3 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last time, Akafuji recognized that he has a crush on Aoyanagi for real, and Aoyanagi also recognized there may be something going on with him. The two lonely boys are trying to put on their best faces for the sake of the drama, but Akafuji is crushed by his own attraction, and Aoyanagi by his own doubts in himself as an actor. Aoyanagi rescued Kuromiya from an aggressive can, and we learned he's afraid of aggressive women. Kuromiya intervened, and Akafuji took Aoyanagi on a date. The two of them practiced kissing, but it was sad as fuck, and then the network cut the kiss from their show.

This curry looks pretty good.

Oh yes. Thank you voiceover for confirming they're both thinking about the kiss.

I'm glad Akafuji can still benefit from his stan knowledge, but now he's spiraling.

Welcome back, baby is a messy eater.

It definitely feels like they're having more fun separating themselves from the characters.

I will love Akafuji forever. He responded to being dumped for loving his hobby by loving it harder.

I would also stan Aoyanagi if he took me so seriously and then praised me for loving my stories.

I love when one confesses when they think the other is sleeping.

Aoyanagi has the best eyes of the year OMG.

I like the manager listening in to check on his charge.

Ope. Tendo-san called it falling in love.

I love the shot of the manager stepping over Hajime in the front as it's implied he's putting himself between Hajime and Akafuji.

Oh no. My boy is gonna be alone on his birthday again.

Oh, of course it was intended as a surprise party. I love Akafuji.

Aoyanagi is crying. I'm crying.

THE CARD IS EDIBLE.

Welcome back, The Heart Knows!

They cut a kiss from a friends to lovers BL with this much sexual tension?? Come on.

I'm glad the rest of the crew knows that Aoyanagi is a good actor who usually hits his marks.

They really had that boy spit on the 4th wall. Holy shit.

Fucking paparazzi holy shit.

Oh, I hate misunderstandings like this, but I get it.

Tendo-san, please fix this!

OH MY GOD. I'VE HAD TO GIVE FOR SO LONG AND I FINALLY GET TO RECEIVE. I had hoped the managers would be real and I was not expecting this!

Run, baby boy, RUN!!!

Holy shit, this indeed a stan's apartment.

He has the cutout!!

This is a completely acceptable stan reaction, and also a fantastic shot.

"I like you as myself" will never get old.

"I'm sorry for going on about myself. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" Sorry to all other BL characters, but we have a new king.

I love this confession.

They planned to remove a kiss that was in the manga??? EVIL.

Aw, this was so close to perfect, but then they chickened out on a real kiss.

Final Verdict: 9.5, This Show Will Drown You in BL Goodness. If they had kissed properly, this would have a 10 and the new standard for all comedy BL follow. Instead, I will say that this show executes comedy with meta commentary about BL better than any other attempt before it (excepting A Man Who Defies the World of BL). Despite confirming the managers, the show chickened out on the mains and I will be docking it for that. Still, this show was excellently paced and will be my new default reaction image whenever someone insists that a Thai BL should be 12 episodes of meandering nonsense with no fucking idea where it's going or what story it's telling. This show executed a great arc in three movements. Everyone else, have several seats.

[daddymus-mamatron]

Thank you MegOP week I can finally unleash all the brain rot about one thing from TFE that I wish they had kept.

day 5; scars

this one was a very easy pick between the two prompts and it's something I've been stewing over since the first season. so much so that I have references for it, made some art for it and I even got a fic.

this is the rant part

hey remember that.

I do.

I think about it a lot.

In this episode, the first time we see Megatron, he’s been arguing with Karen and OP about how dangerous Starscream is, and how capturing him is a priority. The next scene is MegOP by the hole where the seekers escaped. Just before he goes in, OP almost begged Megatron to: 'Just promise me you'll return him without excessive force.' 

When Megatron does find Starscream, they fall right back into their fighting pattern, triggering some PTDS on Starscream's side.

the receipts btw

I see this and go feral, I am staunchly in the camp; this is not an animation error, i will bite!!! The Decepticon brand is only there when the pov is from Starscream. *feral gremlin moment over*

This is also an important detail. 

Hashtags intervenes, trying to warn Megatron about the Dweller. 'Lol, nice troll' is basically his answer, dismissing her, juuuust a few seconds before he gets energon siphoned. 

Scars appear on his face, the Dweller is having a very nice energon caprisun over there. Megatron, now a good Autobot, probably uses the last of his energy to fire his fusion cannon. In a very bad ass way, really cool move. Noble move to protect the Terran, the next generation. 

But it’s not his sacrifice that saves Hashtag. It’s Starscream that jumps and gets dragged away by the Dweller, leaving behind a rather dumbfounded Megatron. Seeing Starscream scream ‘NO!’ and dash toward danger to save someone, has probably blown a fuse or two in his processor. 

At the end of the episode, when he proposes ‘somewhere safe’ for Starscream, I see this scene as Megatron realizing he’s not the only one who changed. Earth had an impact on both the ‘Cons and the ‘Bots. He should feel bad for attacking Starscream right away, especially with Hashtag right there who could have easily got hit in the crossfire. He let rage consumed him and went down the dark path. All it got him was scars and Hashtag distrusting him.

So when it’s time to get fixed, the scars are the first thing the medic worries about.

I'd like to propose that Megatron keeps them. I HC so hard that the scars stay on his faceplate as a reminder. Like the scar on his shoulder, those streaks are a reminder that he would lay down his life for the next generation and that letting his rage control him again has consequences that would hurt him. Rage and solitude versus love and family. 

I could go on and on about this, let the old man be battered lmao

[riotwritesthings]

Who Guards the Bodyguard

T, 3k - No-Powers AU, Humor, bodyguard!Bucky

One college bar, one bodyguard, one sleazeball who can't take no for an answer. Shaken, not stirred.

Hey remember when I took birthday prompts, like… 9 months ago? Good times. Anyways guess what I finally finished.

The prompt was some combination of “You’re my new bodyguard and you’re cute” / “Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second” / “I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having” So I really just mashed all of those together and ended up with this lol. I hope you enjoy it @clarajanedesperaux!

~

This job is supposed to be easy.

All Bucky has to do is keep an eye on a billionaire’s spoiled, wild son and make sure the kid doesn’t end up kidnapped or otherwise killed. Easy.

And yet, it has not been easy, most notably because Tony Stark can’t know that Bucky is guarding him. Howard had been very insistent about his son’s ability and determination to ditch his previous bodyguards, and half of the stories were honestly impressive if true. So Bucky has a very strict set of guidelines to follow that most days make him feel more like a stalker than anything else.

He gets a ping whenever Tony leaves the Stark family’s Fifth Avenue mansion, and satellite tracking makes it quick work to follow him anywhere in the city. Bucky’s not exactly sure how Stark has GPS-tagged his son, but he’s not paid to ask questions.

He’s paid to put his experience in black ops and undercover work to good use and not be seen while he’s following a twenty-year-old around the city making sure no one kills the kid.

Totally normal, super easy.

Yeah right, Bucky thinks to himself in bemusement as he watches Tony over the rim of his beer.

This is the third bar the Stark heir has been to tonight, and Bucky really must be getting old because all he wants is to go home.

He’d kind of like to tell Tony to go home too, and not just because it would mean Bucky could go back to his apartment to hang out with his cat. It’s because he knows what Tony is doing, he knows the rotating cast of friends that meet Tony at one bar just to abandon him at another. He knows how damn lonely that is.

He might be watching from a distance, but Bucky is pretty damn good at what he does and he can tell there’s a lot more to Tony than the kid lets on. He’s got a bigger heart than he likes to show and hidden scars, he deserves better than fake friends and a father who won’t even give him a chance.

But that’s none of Bucky’s business.

Two more bars later, Bucky is feeling a lot less generous towards his charge. This place is too damn crowded, and loud, and Bucky has to keep moving around to keep Tony in his sight. And for what, just to watch him half-heartedly flirt with some asshole in a trucker hat, of all things? The kid could at least have the decency to have some taste.

Bucky forces down some more unsavory thoughts about trucker-hat-douche as he slides onto another seat at the bar and waves for a refill on his beer. He pointedly ignores it when the guy on the next stool spins to face him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Tony near the pool table across the bar. Even if he wasn’t working right now, he is in no mood and he does his best to convey that with the side of his face.

The asshole doesn’t take the hint though, and Bucky can feel the weight of his sleazy smirk as he asks, “Well hello, you come here often?”

“Nope,” Bucky says shortly, which is conveniently both true, and will hopefully cut off any further conversation.

"That makes sense,” the man says with a nod and a widening smirk, continuing to ignore all of Bucky’s not-so-subtle hints, “I would remember seeing you before.”

He probably thinks it sounds flattering, but he just comes across as gross. Bucky takes his eyes off his charge just long enough to glance over at the man next to him, taking in his flushed, sweaty face. The asshole is definitely drunk, probably completely hammered, and Bucky doesn’t want to deal with this.

He fixes his eyes forward again, hoping the guy will at least take one of his hints if he just keeps throwing them in the asshole’s face.

“C’mon, I’ve seen you moving all around the bar,“ the man says, because of course he can’t just give up. ”It’s obvious you’re looking for something, only to wind up next to me,“ he continues in what he probably thinks is an alluring tone, ”there’s no reason to play hard to get now.”

"‘M not playing anythin’,” Bucky snaps, cutting his gaze to the side just long enough to give the man a sharp glare, "and I’m not interested."

The asshole on the next stool just laughs, and Bucky can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans closer. “Don’t be like that,” he says with another slimey laugh, “you don’t even know me yet, and I’m very interesting.”

Bucky lets himself outright scoff at that, because he very seriously doubts that this bar-regular who can’t take no for an answer has any sort of hobby that Bucky would find interesting. He can see it from the corner of his eye when the asshole scowls, when his fingers curl tighter around his drink, and Bucky sighs internally.

“What, you think you’re too good to even give me the fucking time of day?” The guy demands, abandoning his attempt at a sultry tone in favor of a snarl. It sounds more natural for him, honestly.

There are a lot of ways Bucky could answer that.

He could point out that technically at this point it would be ‘time of night.’ Or he could get brutally honest and say that while he doesn’t usually think very highly of himself at all these days, he does still think he can do better than this random bar asshole. Maybe not a whole lot better, but better.

Instead of saying anything at all though, Bucky reluctantly tears his eyes away from the Stark heir across the small bar. He turns to finally face the man next to him and fixes him with a dry, expectant stare, quirking an eyebrow and letting the man fill in how ‘interesting’ Bucky thinks he is for himself.

The asshole’s face starts to twist with rage, but he smooths it out again with what looks like a fair amount of effort before saying, “Well, how about you let me buy you a drink and give me sixty seconds to change your mind.”

“No,” Bucky says shortly and starts to turn away. But then the man starts to reach for him, like he’s going to grab Bucky’s shoulder to stop him, and Bucky goes tense all over.

Part of him, a big part, wants to break this asshole’s wrist and be done with it, but that would draw way too much attention. He doesn’t trust himself to grab the man’s hand without breaking something, and he can’t even risk punching the jerk when his entire job relies on Tony never noticing him.

So Bucky has to settle for moving out of the asshole’s reach, shifting half off of his stool to accomplish it, and glaring harder as he snaps, "Do not touch me."

If the man was less drunk, and less of a dick, there’s no doubt that Bucky’s best death glare would be enough to chase him off. But he is a drunk asshole, so instead of running he grits his teeth and narrows his eyes.

“Listen, asshole,” the guy starts and Bucky does outright laugh at that, sharp and mocking.

He’s not surprised that the man’s face flushes an angrier shade of red, but Bucky really couldn’t help himself. The asshole continues to sputter for a second before sliding ungracefully off his stool and pulling himself up to his full height, wobbling slightly in the process.

“I don’t appreciate you- fuckin’- talking down to me,” the asshole spits furiously, but Bucky isn’t listening to him anymore.

With a sigh, Bucky slides the rest of the way off of his own stool and he can only hope that Tony is still distracted with the trucker-hat-douche because this is definitely about to become a scene. At least it’s somewhat gratifying to watch the drunk stumble back half a step when Bucky pulls himself up to his full height and squares his shoulders, but it doesn’t look like the man plans on backing down.

“Last chance to walk away,” Bucky warns because he has had it with tonight. At this point he will be perfectly happy to get kicked out of this shitty bar and fuck this job.

The asshole has his mouth open to respond, but then his eyes go wide as Bucky feels someone winding their arms around his and plastering themself tightly to his side. Bucky feels his own face twitch in shock when he jerks his gaze to the side and realizes that it’s Tony clinging to him.

Tony, who Bucky is supposed to be keeping an eye on, and who is not supposed to even be aware of Bucky’s existence. Tony, who is smiling up at him like Bucky isn’t a complete stranger to him, like he knows Bucky.

“There you are, hot stuff,” Tony says, his tone as familiar as his grin, and Bucky has a terrible feeling about the future of his employment. “I was starting to think you were standing me up,” Tony continues, fluttering those long eyelashes up at him.

The eyelashes that Bucky has tried so hard not to notice, but he’s sure as hell noticing them now.

Even caught off guard, and maybe a little distracted, Bucky isn’t a complete moron. He knows what Tony is doing, so he quickly pulls it together and works up a smile of his own.

“Wouldn’t’ve been so hard t’ spot you if you’d picked a less crowded place,” Bucky finds himself saying, because he can’t not complain about this dive bar now that he’s been given the chance.

Tony throws his head back with a laugh, and Bucky does not let himself get caught up in the sound of it. Not even a little.

“I * knew* you would hate it,” Tony says gleefully and the light in his eyes isn’t just teasing, it’s knowing.

Like Tony actually chose this bar just to annoy him, and Bucky is officially in so over his head.

He is also reluctantly charmed, and Bucky can’t fight down a tiny grin of his own even as he shakes his head and says, “You-”

“Hey,” the asshole interrupts, apparently not happy with being completely ignored.

He’s glaring at both of them now, and Bucky automatically shifts so he’s a little more between the drunk and the person he’s supposed to be secretly bodyguarding. He can at least still do half of his job. Tony grins at him like he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking, and hell, he probably does. Just like it’s probably no accident that Tony is wrapped around his good arm, making it much less likely that he’ll throw a punch.

Nothing would really surprise Bucky at this point, Tony is so damn smart and apparently Bucky has been underestimating him, too. And apparently, Tony has been watching him back, and Bucky has no idea what to do with that.

When the asshole makes another impatient sound Tony finally deigns to look over at him, barely tearing his gaze away from Bucky long enough to flit his eyes over the man from head to foot.

“Bye,” Tony says, his tone artfully dismissive, and then goes right back to grinning up at Bucky like the other man doesn’t exist.

To Tony’s credit, his cold, superior tone has the asshole automatically taking a step backward, even as he sputters, "Dude, wh- what the fuck-"

“What part are you not getting?” Tony asks, one sharp eyebrow crawling up his forehead as he slowly turns to face the asshole again, like he’s still unconvinced that the man is worth the effort. ”He was looking for someone, now he’s found me,“ Tony continues as he smoothly fits himself under Bucky’s arm, ”no part of this has anything to do with you, so you can go ahead and leave now."

Bucky can’t quite bite down his laugh when the drunk man sputters dumbly again, and the tiny grin that Tony flashes up at him has Bucky’s heartbeat doing truly concerning things in his chest. But he’s not thinking about that, just like he’s not thinking about the way his arm has automatically fallen around Tony’s shoulders, the way Tony fits perfectly against his side.

“L-Listen here, you little-” the asshole stutters and then trails off, his face going scarlet as he seems to notice all of the people staring at them.

"Little what?" Tony asks coldly, the look on his face just daring the asshole to come up with something that Tony hasn’t been called before. Bucky is equal parts impressed, enraged at his employer all over again, and trying his best not to be completely smitten.

The asshole’s face is nearly purple as his eyes dart from side to side, taking note of the increasing number of people watching them with open interest and amusement.

“Fuck this,” he grumbles and finally starts to back away, deciding to save what little face he has left in front of this crowd of college douchebags. He apparently has to try and get the last word though, because as he turns he shoots Bucky a final glare he loudly mutters “I could do better anyways.”

“Doubt it!” Tony calls after him gleefully, and the on-looking crowd laughs. Then he turns his bright grin up at Bucky, and oh, fuck.

Bucky is so fucking fucked.

“Do you want to get out of here, now?” Tony asks, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” Bucky groans instantly and emphatically, all thoughts of his imminent unemployment momentarily forgotten in the force of his relief over getting to leave.

Being caught by Tony is the least of the rules he’s broken, but he can worry about that later, or maybe never. It’s not like anyone needs to know that he’s been slowly but surely failing the first rule of bodyguarding over months of catching glimpses of the real Tony. Except Tony might know, because he’s been watching Bucky back.

And Tony is still grinning smugly as he starts to drag Bucky out of the bar with his arm still looped comfortably around Bucky’s waist, staying plastered to his side. Bucky has no idea if it’s necessary or not, he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony to see if the asshole is still hanging around.

He does spare the most fleeting thought for the trucker hat douche that Tony was flirting with before, but that’s only to think that at least this mess is getting Tony away from that asshole. Tony deserves so much better, of that Bucky is sure, he’s had way too much time to think about it while watching Tony flirt with every type of douchebag.

Once they’re out in the cool night air Bucky drags in his first deep breath in what feels like hours, relishing in the slightly less disgusting smells of the city. At least there’s less old-vomit smell.

When Tony snickers Bucky looks over at him again, honestly not sure what to make of the teasing, knowing smile on Tony’s face.

”So, where to now?“ Tony asks innocently, like he’s not still actively throwing Bucky’s life into chaos.

”Off to look for a new job, probably,“ Bucky grumbles, but he can’t actually force any annoyance into his voice. It’s not like he actually likes this job, after all, but…

He’ll probably never see Tony again, once he’s fired, and that thought sends a sharp pang through his chest that Bucky is trying not to think about too hard. Tony is still staring up at him as they start to aimlessly wander down the sidewalk, apparently trusting Bucky not to run them into any street signs, and Bucky is trying not to think about that either.

”Why?“ Tony asks, sounding genuinely confused, and then he pouts as he adds, ”I can go back to pretending not to notice you, is that more fun? Little weird, big-time stalker vibes, but I can work with that.“

Bucky huffs out a laugh, then raises an eyebrow as he asks, ”“S that what you’re into? That why you haven’ ditched me yet, like all th’ others?”

“Give yourself some credit,” Tony says, patting his side, “I did try at first, but you’re hard to shake. Plus, you’re much cuter than the rest of them were.”

Bucky tears his eyes away from Tony’s teasing, flirty grin, looking back down the dark street and trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. ”Maybe I’m jus’ sick of bein’ dragged to college bars,“ he says after a pause that’s probably tellingly long.

”Okay,“ Tony says agreeably, and when Bucky looks over at him in surprise, he finds Tony grinning up at him with an almost hopeful look in his eyes as he asks, ”How do you feel about burgers?“

Bucky finds himself trailing to a stop, still staring at Tony, who stopped right along with him and is now watching with a nervous little smile, like maybe he thinks the ‘better’ that he deserves is somehow Bucky.

For a second all Bucky can do is stare, his mouth gone completely dry. He has to lick his lips, watching Tony’s clever gaze track the motion, before he can croak out, “Seems like I’m gonna be fired for a different reason.”

Tony laughs, delighted, and starts leading him down the street again as he asks, ”What are you talking about? What better place to guard me from than up close and personal?“

Bucky is pretty sure that the elder Stark would not agree with that statement, but like hell is he going to be the one to point that out. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, and he’s definitely going to get fired for this sooner or later, but with any luck, it won’t be the last time he sees Tony.

”So, burgers?“ Bucky asks as he tightens his arm a little more around Tony’s shoulders, and when Tony smiles wider Bucky finally lets himself acknowledge the way it makes his heart flip over itself in his chest.

[jomeimei421]

you got any orv fic recs 🙏🏼

BOY I sure do. This list is going to be pretty long, so I'll put it below the cut.

Mei's ORV Fic Reccs

Spoilers for ORV until the epilogue!

Post-Epilogue by the1864

GEN, yoohankim if you squint. This one is one of my favorite ORV fics at the moment so it's going first in this list! It picks up right where 551 leaves off, and every single character is written absurdly well, especially the main trio! Great if you're looking for KDJ recovery stuff.

Rendezvous by WindsofTime

Joongdok. A reimagining of select scenes from ORV, if KDJ and YJH made more use of Midday Tryst, told from YJH's point of view. A tiny bit different from canon, but not enough to call it canon divergence. The babygirl YJH fic ever. Op GETS him.

The False Last Act by younglegends

GEN. If you read any fic on this list, please read this one. I can't say anything about it without spoiling parts of it, and I really don't want to do that. Extremely well executed. Lovely, comforting, and will make your stomach flip like you've stared too long into the abyss. Read this fic TWICE. Read it TWO (2) TIMES.

My Cooking was Always Better with You (Now if only you would eat it) by pave_ment

GEN, joongdok if you squint. For those who lament over the fact that we never got to see any scenes from YJH's 81st regression cooking adventure I present to you: Dungeon Meshi AU, ft. chimera KDJ and bratty chef adventurer YJH. Enjoy!

Tell Me I Did Good Until Now by featherx

GEN. with a little sangsoo on the side. KDJ returns post epilogue, but stays a child in body and mind. This one had me reeling for the whole week when I read it. Sweet and melancholy. I especially loved YJH being bullied by children. KDJ is really, profoundly loved in this one.

An Incomplete Record of Correspondence Between The Magnificent, Unbiased, Genius Author Han Su-yeong and The Jackass Who Dares to Edit Her Work by Dragonomatopoeia

Joongdok. Yoohan's annoying arguments in the ORV shared google doc. The concept and title alone are too funny to not put on this list.

The Prologue Past the Epilogue by AVoresmith

Yoohankim, though mostly just JD at the moment. Of all the ORV fics I've ever read, I think this fic comes to closest to imitating the actual writing style of ORV along with nailing the characterizations with pinpoint precision. Also contains a JD kiss chapter that is more intense than any actual nsfw scene they could have wrote. There are some caveats to this recommendation though:

It gets slightly NSFW in the latest chapter.

Biyoo is several hundred years old and is treated as an adult, not a kid. There will be mention of Biyoo in relationships with adult partners -- including implied YJH. In my opinion it's handled tactfully, but it's also something that might turn some people off to this fic, so please be aware!

LGY has a big puppy love crush on KDJ. Obviously completely one-sided, but it's there.

Home Invasion by misoriri

GEN. KDJ gets shingles and has to be taken to the doctor. YJH breaks a door and then looms in the kitchen like an evil lamp post. JHW bites a tomato like an apple. LJY gets demolished at Club Penguin Card Jitsu. A short read, but hysterical. KCom is so fucking funny in this.

I saw you in a dream by featherx

GEN, Doksoo if you squint. OD meets the HSY of his new worldline, and can't help feeling like he knows her from another time, another place. Had to lay down after this one. Solid 999 and SP fam content, as well as typical YHK style cosmic unbreakable bonds.

We are A Woven Thread by ksalientian

Yoohankim. A reincarnation AU. I read this one a while back but I found it again recently and it still hits just as hard! The cosmic codependence trio finds themselves trapped in another looping cycle, but as is always the case with them, they always find each other and are okay in the end.

A Short Pause by Je_te_veux

GEN, but can be read as JD. An episode set between 517 and 520, a day in the life of YJH, and having some time to think. JTV is a Chinese writer, and you will need to copy and paste into a translator to read their fics, but genuinely they are one of the best ORV writers I've ever read. This fic is one of the ones I always come back to. Really excellent YJH characterization.

Honey and Ginger by Rivani

Yoohankim. Good old fashioned fluff sickfic! The banter is very well done; the three of them are insufferable <3

Too Many Cooks by SonaSona

Yoohankim. KCom makes dinner. HSY makes herself a nuisance. Sona's prose is incredible, and her characterization of the main trio is impeccable. Light, sweet, with just a touch of the ORV brand melancholy. Yoohan is always funny.

There are more but this post is getting pretty long so! Enjoy 👍