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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

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What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 2

Word Count: 4,845

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Well you guys have spoken and it looks like this the fic you wanted posted. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the others soon. But in case you were wondering where we left. Our reader was in Vegas at a bachelorette party, when she had a few too many drinks and wound up married to one Jacob Markstrom. Let’s see what happens next. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

"Fuck," you yelled, once you realized that you were now Mrs. Markstrom. This couldn't be happening. Your brain couldn't be remembering things right.

"Vad? Vada r fel?" Jacob mumbled in a haze of sleep, lifting his head to check on you. You had no idea that he was asking you what was wrong, as he automatically defaulted to Swedish in his drowsy state. "Are you ok?"

"No, no I'm not." Your voice was panicked and you were starting to break out in a cold sweat. "We're married!"

His head flopped back down on the pillow. "Oh, that."

Wait he knew and wasn't saying anything. "That," you said with a note of distress in your voice. "What do you mean 'oh, that?'"

He turned his head so that he faced you, as you straightened your body so you could rest against the headboard; fighting the urge to get up and pace the room. "It was a joke. We just took a couple pictures with some Elvis."

A joke? Ok, that kind of seemed like drunk you, after all everyone said you were a fun drunk. You sagged back against the mattress, breathing a sigh of relief. "So that's all it was, a joke?"

"Mmmhmm." Well, that made you feel a bit better. "From what I remember it was. Things are a bit hazy." Jacob saying that, did not. He got up then, rolling onto his side and propping his head up. "I vaguely recall saying we were just going to snap some pictures and show your friend how silly it was to rush into things. I'm sure that's all we did." He had to be right, that part of the night still eluded you, though you do remember wandering into the chapel. "Though we can still pretend we're on our honeymoon if you want."

His free hand, the one his head wasn't propped up on, slid under the duvet and across your midsection. His fingers wandering down to your core. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, a silent plea for you to let him keep going. Now that you were a bit more relieved at knowing your marriage to him was some elaborate rouse, you were a bit more inclined for that second round with him, so you smiled giving him the green light to continue.

Jacob didn't need to be told twice, as you felt his fingers widening your legs to give him access to your pussy. His fingertips lightly brushed against you and you sucked in a breath. "Fan du ar vat." You had to admit that Swedish wasn't the most seductive language, but when it rolled off his tongue it turned you into jelly. He recognized that you didn't know what he was saying and translated for you. "Fuck, you're wet." You were, there was no denying that, as this man just did things to you by simply giving you a look.

He wasted no time sliding a finger inside you while his thumb brushed against your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as he made your body tingle with delight. "So sensitive, prinsessa. I love that." His mouth kissed the outside of your thigh as he still laid on his side, his fingers torturing you. "I may not remember all of last night," Jacob admitted. "But I remember hearing you moan." As if on cue, you groaned out when his finger hit your most delicate spot. "So pretty." He removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of contact. "Ride me, prinsessa." He rolled onto his back, giving your thigh a squeeze.

There was no denying your needs right then. You wanted him inside you, so you straddled him. Knees on either side of his hips, you positioned his cock right at your entrance. You savored the feel of him sliding inside you as you sunk down on him slowly, fully engulfing his dick inside you. Jacob's hands slid up and down your sides caressing your body. After your tumble with him last night, you knew your hair had to be a disaster, so you ran your fingers through your locks, hoping to at least make yourself a bit more presentable as you rode him.

Unbeknownst to you, the picture you painted Jacob was nothing short of pornography; arms raised above your head, tits bouncing, as you slowly moved your hips against him. While his memory of last night was a bit hazy, being buried inside you wasn’t. He clearly recalled needing to get ahold of himself before he spent in you too soon. Now was no different, as he gripped your hips hard then wildly bucked up into you.

His movements thrilled you and had you bracing yourself against the headboard as he fucked you. He had told you to ride him but wasn’t willing to give over the reigns completely, but that was ok with you. He slowed his thrusts, giving you back just a bit of control, yet his hands lingered at your waist ready to take it back at any minute. You ran your hands up your side, then cupped your breasts, gently pulling on the nipples. “My god, you’re beautiful,” Jacob panted out as you looked down at him through hooded lashes.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room. Jacob’s fingertips dug into your ass cheeks as you picked up your pace, riding him earnestly now. His hips met you every time you ground down on him. At one point Jacob couldn’t take it anymore and he moved his one hand so he could toy with your clit. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out when he rubbed the little nub. “Jacob…I’m gonna…” The rest was a garbled mess as you came hard grinding down on his rock-hard cock inside you.

“Yes, prinsessa.” Jacob watched you fall apart loving every emotion that played across your face. It pushed him over the edge and with a few more thrusts he spilled his cum deep inside your cunt.

Your body was spent as you sagged forward on top of Jacob. You were both breathing hard, chest heaving in an effort to draw in more air. After a few seconds, you felt his lips on you; kissing your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips. The kiss was sweet and loving, perfect after the sweaty and exhausting sex that had just happened. “Min vackra prinsessa,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear as it had cascaded around the two of you obscuring his view of your face. “Too bad our marriage is a joke, for I could get used to that.”

“We don’t have to be married for you to enjoy that again.” You pecked his lips then lifted off of him and rolled onto your side of the bed. “Come see me in LA anytime.”

“You realize I’ll be there at least four times with my schedule, and San Jose isn’t too far from you.” His body was turned towards you so that you could see the seriousness in his face.

“Well, I expect to be seeing my fake husband when he’s in town.” You gave him a little wink before adding, “And I think the trip to San Jose would be totally worth it.” He got up then and walked to the bathroom. You heard the water running and it wasn’t more than a minute or two before he was back at the bed.

“Here.” He brought you a glass of water and a couple aspirin. It was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you.”

“Sleep, it’s still early, then we’ll shower later.” He dropped a kiss to your lips while tucking the covers up around then crawling into bed with you. He tucked you into his side and you swiftly drifted back to sleep.

It was a couple hours later that Jacob woke up before you. His mind troubled with thoughts. It wasn’t a bad dream so much as a nagging feeling eating away at him. He carefully removed himself from the bed careful not to disturb you as you continued to sleep on peacefully. Covering himself with a pair of boxer briefs, he grabbed a bottle of water then sat down on the sofa in the suite. On the table lay the pictures from your fake wedding. He picked them up, laughing to himself at the photo on top. It was a dramatic shot of him asking you to marry him, and you acting shocked. He vaguely remembered doing that but the rest was all a blur. He leafed through the other shots. One of a fake Elvis, which seemed to be typical Vegas style, another of you kissing him after the proposal, still more of you being married by Elvis. They would all make for a cute memory of his time with you. Hell, part of him wished that he was married to you. He wouldn’t mind being buried balls deep in you every night.

Jacob finally got to the last photo, or what he thought was the last picture; only it was some sort of document. He flipped it so that he could read it better. “Fuck,” he whispered softly as he read the words so nicely scripted across the paper. It seemed to be a marriage license, signed not only by both of you but the Elvis impersonator as well, whose name wasn’t Elvis and seemed to be a legitimately licensed marriage officiant.

He needed to find out if this was real, so grabbing the hotel phone off the end table, he called the chapel. “Hello Mr. Markstrom, how can I help you?” An overly cheerful woman answered the phone.

“Um, yeah, so I was wondering…I was there last night with…” He had to look down at the license to remember your last night. “Ms. (Y/LN) and I have our license in my hand. I was just wondering how valid this is?”

“Oh, I can assure you Mr. Markstrom that it is one hundred percent authentic and has been filed electronically with the courthouse. You and Ms. (Y/LN) are indeed married. We make sure to dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s before we let you leave.”

Jacob covered the phone then muttered, “Fuck.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, um…I’m good. Thank you.”

“No problem and congratulations again to you and the new Mrs. Markstrom.”

Jacob hung up the phone and swore furiously in Swedish. You stirred, hearing something but not really registering what was going on, as you blinked your eyes several times clearing the sleep from them. The bed was empty next to you, and you found yourself sitting up looking for Jacob. He wasn’t in the bathroom, so you got up and padded out to where the seating area was. Sure enough there he was sitting with his head in his hand. “Head hurt that bad?” He groaned in reply. “Come back to bed and I’ll make it feel better.”

He lifted his head up and turned to you then, a serious look in his eyes. “You’re not going to like this, prinsessa.” Well, if he was calling you princess again, it couldn’t be all bad. You raised an eyebrow in query. “Apparently, we’re married.”

“Right, you told me it was a joke.” You sat down on the couch beside him, noticing the scattered photos on the table. “See, like I would ever get married by some Elvis doppelganger.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” He handed over what looked like a marriage license, a very authentic one at that. Leave it to Vegas to be thorough even in practical joking. “There’s a seal on it and everything.” He was right there, but that would mean that this was real.

“Oh, no….no, no, no….no. This isn’t real. You said…”

“I know what I thought, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. So I called.” There was a look of dread on his face. "The paperwork has already been filed at the courthouse. Yay for technology."

You knew he was trying to find a bit of humor in this mess, but frankly, you didn't find it funny at all. "Now what?"

"I was just trying to come up with that when you came in."

It hit you then, the solution to your problem. Maybe if you hadn't drunk enough alcohol to float a small ship last night it would've come to you sooner. "We'll just get an annulment."

"Is that possible, after last night and well this morning?"

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. Well, divorce it is." It wasn't ideal and you can't imagine having to explain it down the line, years from now, when you finally found someone you wanted to be tied down to, but it was the answer to your problem.

Jacob seemed to mull it over a bit, and it struck you that he might be religious and that this might not be an option after all. "I'll make a phone call," he finally told you and you breathed out a sigh of relief. It took the two of you several minutes to locate your phones but eventually, you found them. While Jacob called his lawyer, you checked your messages. There were several texts from the girls saying they were heading to breakfast, so you shot one off yourself. There was no way you were meeting them yet, so you cried off stating that you were still hungover from the day before. You were really going to need to patch things up with Kennedy after all this trip was about her. Hopefully, you could share a laugh with her about this whole mess.

A curse word muttered, or at least you thought it was, one in Swedish, brought you back to the situation at hand, and you looked at Jacob expectantly. "Apparently, it's not as easy as we think." He blew out a very frustrated sigh. "It's still doable, but it's going to take a lot longer than I expected."

"How long?"

"A couple months after the papers are signed and filed, possibly more."

"What!?! You've got to be kidding me." That didn't make any sense at all. Shouldn't you be able to get a quickie divorce in a week when both parties were in agreement?

"Well, my citizenship is one factor, but apparently it just takes that kind of time."

"We got married in like, what...seconds. I don't understand." You started scrolling through your contacts looking for Aaron's number, then hit it and started to walk away.

"Who are you calling?"

"A friend, who's also an attorney." Aaron worked for the same firm as you, only in the legal department. Surely he'd dealt with a celebrity or two that had this same problem.

You gave Aaron the condensed version of what happened, hoping that he'd come through and be your savior. "I hate to say it (Y/N), this Jacob's attorney is right. It's going to take you that long, if not longer." A growl of frustration was all you gave as an answer. "Cheer up babe, it could be worse."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, you could've picked some homeless guy off the street. At least this one sounds decent, and it's not like you have to move to Canada or Sweden while you wait this out. Just go on about your business."

"I know, you're right. Thanks for your help, Aaron. I'll see you in a day or two." With that, you hung up the phone and headed back to Jacob.

"Looks like you didn't fare any better."

You sat heavily down on the couch. "No, not at all. Looks like we better start filing so we can get this done sooner than later." The look in Jacob's eye had you questioning things. You had thought you both were on the same page. Sure last night and this morning were fun, but what did you really know about each other. He couldn't really be thinking about staying married. When you couldn't take it any longer, you blurted out, "what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." When you gave him that look that said you didn't believe him he finally fessed up. "You're wearing my shirt."

"Oh, sorry. I realized when I was on the phone I didn't have anything on. Hope you don't mind."

Jacob actually didn't mind at all, in fact, he kind of liked you in it, which was a new feeling. "No, not at all. Though I'll admit I like you without anything on as well."

It was hard to stop your eyes from rolling at his words especially at a time like this, but somehow you managed to. "While I appreciate the compliment, we should probably figure out what we're going to do." It was then that you looked at him, in only his boxers. His washboard abs calling out to your fingertips to just run over them, not to mention the strain of his cock against those briefs. You bit your lip just thinking about the things that you wanted to do to him and have him do to you. "And once that's done, then we can celebrate our divorce."

"I like the way you think." He scooted you closer on the couch so that your legs were draped over his. "I was thinking that while you were on the phone, that I can just have my lawyer handle things. He said he could have everything drawn up in a couple days since we don't have to split up a house or any belongs."

"That's fine. You can email me them and I'll just sign and send them back."

"He did mention one thing, though I'm loathed to bring it up." His hand was traveling up and down your shins making it hard to think, but you were intent upon getting this divorce started.

"Just tell me, after all, we are married, and married people shouldn't have secrets right?" I mean it was a bad joke, you'll admit that, but then if you couldn't laugh about this shamble of a mess you may start to cry.

"He wanted to make sure that you weren't after, well...you know."

Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to figure out his meaning, and then it hit you. "Oh my god! No, I'm not after any money. I would never and it's not like I don't have my own. I mean it's probably not anything close to what you make, but I do bring in quite a bit. Oh my god, I'm rambling. But no, no, I don't want a cent from you."

"I told him I thought that was the case, but he wanted me to be sure."

"Ok as long as you didn't think that."

Jacob was quick to tell you he didn't. "No, not at all. If I'm being honest, I think getting married was my idea, if I remember right."

"I wish I could remember more, though these pictures do bring back a few memories. I can't remember how we got these rings though. What is this cubic zirconia?"

"Umm, nope." His cheeks started to turn a delightful shade of red. "My credit card tells me it's a diamond."

"Oh Jacob," you exclaimed, taking off the ring. "This has to be a fortune. It's at least three carats." Quickly, you put the ring in his hand as if it was going to burn you. This fake marriage had caused enough damage that he didn't need to be on the hook for a ring that you'd never wear again.

"You know I can afford it right?"

"Of course, I know that. You just shouldn't have to pay for my mistake."

"It wasn't just your mistake." It was sweet of him to try and shoulder the blame, but if you wouldn't have had that tiff with Kennedy, then you wouldn't have gotten drunk ass stupid and married him. "We both did this, but there's no point in arguing about it. In a few short months, this marriage will be over."

"True."

"Let me give him a quick call and get things started." You went to move but Jacob stilled you with his arm. The conversation was brief, his hand was inching further up your thighs during the entire call, sending delightful tingles all over your body. As soon as he hung up, that same hand reached your core. "So now that that's settled. What about that celebration? You know while we're still married and all."

You'd already said you weren't making it to brunch with everyone, so there was really no reason, not to indulge in what you wanted. Scooting up a little further onto his lap, you grabbed the back of his neck and drew his lips down to yours. One kiss melted into another and another until neither of you could take it any longer and Jacob took you there on the sofa. After that, it was round 4 in the shower.

You and Jacob exchanged numbers so that you could keep in touch while the divorce papers were being worked on by his lawyer. Since both of you were still in Vegas another night, you agreed to meet up a little later. Jacob claiming that it was safer to be with his 'wife' than out looking for another one.

It was an hour after leaving Jacob before you were knocking on Kennedy’s door, there to apologize for everything you said to her the day before. She opened the door, and without so much as a hello, grabbed your arm and hauled you inside. “You have to tell me everything that happened?” How the hell did she know what had happened with Jacob. She was your best friend and all, but the last time you checked she was not a psychic. “I called Ryan and he told me those guys were from the Canucks, which happen to be his favorite hockey team in the world.” Somehow you really weren’t shocked to find that out. Considering Ryan was from Seattle and an avid sports fan. “When Jade told me, you were hooking up with one of them, I died. I need to know everything.”

Oh, you weren’t sure if she was ready to hear everything. “Can I first apologize for being an absolute asshole to you yesterday?”

“You can, but there’s no need. I know your feelings about marriage and how you think we’re rushing into it. I get that you were just looking out for me and only want me to be happy, and you know I’ll be happy with Ryan. I wasn’t really mad at you, per se. It was more about smoothing things over with Gretchen. You know how she can be.” You did know how Gretchen was, which was why you felt even worse for saying what you did, when you did. “(Y/N), you’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister, and nothing you say is ever going to change that.”

You enveloped her in a massive hug. There were times that you felt as if you and Kennedy were twins separated at birth and it was nice to know she felt that way too. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s already forgiven. Now, tell me everything that happened, or more importantly; can you get any of their autographs so I can take them back to Ryan?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get us seats to any game if he wants to go?”

Kennedy's face was filled with a mixture of shock and joy. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they have a family suite or something for wives to sit in.”

This time you watched as that same shocked look turned into confusion. “I’m not following you?”

“Well…I kind of sort of…” Kennedy might be your best friend, who knew you better than yourself, but you still didn’t know how to tell her this. It was always easiest to just rip the bandaid off, you supposed. “That is…I got married last night.”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Little louder, Kenny I don’t think they heard you at the Bellagio.”

“I’m sorry but you cannot just drop that bomb on me and expect me not to shout at you like you lost your damn mind.” Ok, she had a point. You had in fact lost your mind and your memory. Damn alcohol. “You need to tell me everything right now.”

It took you a half hour to tell Kennedy all the details of what had happened with Jacob. She was stunned, to say the least. In the end, the only thing she wanted to know was if you were now her matron of honor instead of maid. Leave it to Kennedy to make you laugh at a time like this. She agreed to keep your marriage a secret from the other girls and you hoped that she didn’t blurt it out like she did your little sexcapade with Superman, though she insisted that all of you meet up with Jacob and some of his teammates that night.

Like you, Jacob had only told one other person about what happened that night, his friend and teammate Chris; to everyone else, it just seemed as though you two were very interested in one another. At the end of the night, you were fumbling back into his suite, divesting him of every garment he had on, while he did the same to you. The next morning, you said your goodbyes but decided to keep in touch. Jacob promised you there would be tickets with your name on them anytime you wanted them in Vancouver and that he’d definitely see you when he was in LA. It was something you were definitely looking forward to. Despite the whole marriage debacle, or maybe because of it, you had to say that your trip to Las Vegas was one you were definitely going to remember for a lifetime.

Twenty-four hours later, when you were back in your own place, still trying to rehydrate from the past seventy-two hours, is when you received a phone call from Jacob. He called to make sure that you got back to Los Angeles and that everything was fine. It was actually kind of sweet. It was about sixteen hours after that, that you found yourself calling him after his first practice. One conversation rolled into the next and so on until you were talking at least twice a day. He talked about hockey and his life in Sweden as well as Vancouver, while you told him about LA and your job there. Family and friends were a topic that came up often, almost to a point that you felt as if his teammates were your friends as well. Sure, there were the occasional nights where phone sex ended up taking place, though you had to admit it was much better than some of the dates you’d gone on in the past. If one was on the outside looking in, they probably wouldn’t understand why you were actually going through with the divorce. That thought didn’t stop you from signing the documents and sending them back to Jacob though.

As the season started, Jacob still made time to talk to you every day. He even started to wonder if the circumstances had been different and the two of you had met in Vancouver or LA, would you be an actual couple at this point. He had to admit that your conversations were the highlight of his day. You were smart and funny with a wit about you that he enjoyed, and well to say that you were attractive was a complete understatement in his book. If Jacob was being honest with himself, you were his ideal woman.

Which is why when the divorce papers came in, almost a month after he met you, he simply threw them on his desk and vowed to take them to his attorney soon. Unfortunately, he forgot he had an extended road trip coming up, which made him forget about them completely. They only crossed his mind once while he was gone when you’d asked him if he got them. He tried to make a mental note to remember them when he got home, but not only did they slip his mind, but they also got buried in a mountain of mail on his desk.

The following week when he got home was a bit crazy. He missed a night in calling you when a game went into overtime. When he tried to the next day you didn’t answer. Jacob tried not to give it too much thought or take it personally, though his mind told him differently. He knew that you had a big ad campaign coming up and that work had started to consume your life. He just hoped it wasn’t with some hot male stripper or movie star.

When you didn’t answer the phone the following three days, Jacob started to believe that what the two of you had or were starting to have, never really existed. He had resigned himself that he’d probably never see or hear from you again. Oh, how he was wrong.

#What Happens in Vegas series #WHIVDAST #Jacob Markstrom #Jacob Markstrom imagine #jacob markstrom imagines #Jacob markstrom smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years ago

Note

Helnik + “we accidentally got married in vegas oops”

Obviously modern AU, PG-ish despite the premise, and cross-posted on ao3.

He wakes up with the worst headache of his life. No, not headache, hangover, holy shit this is what he gets for thinking he could be the reasonable adult along for the ride with all of these…

Truth be told, the events that threw their sextet together are a little hazy by mutual agreement, but it involved a service-project day their freshman year and somehow they got thrown together and didn’t kill each other despite a bouquet of personality clashes and… in hindsight, birdhouses probably shouldn’t look so much like abstract art, but nobody got hurt in any way that would require so much as multiple bandaids to fix and that felt like something of a miracle at the time. And from there, well, it was obvious enough that they were all misfits – Jesper and Nina each individually having more social skills than the other four of them put together, which wasn’t saying much – and phone numbers got exchanged and somehow it turned into the chaotic found-family friend group Matthias never knew he needed.

And honestly, right now he’s questioning every second of the past three and a half years. He feels like something tried to run him over. Honestly, given there are a few hours of his life he can’t account for, that’s actually plausible. And if he feels that bad, being built as he is, God only knows how bad-

Oh. Oh shit. There is someone else in this hotel bed with him and yeah no this is on track to be the worst morning of his life and that’s probably what he gets for thinking nothing could top that one incident where someone in the group – he refuses to know more details than he has to about their adventures – may have questionably acquired a paintball gun and-

“Good morning!”

Yeah. He’s in hell.

Nina, to her credit, does not look like roadkill. Nina, he has learned over the past three and a half years, has a remarkable ability to hide however she’s feeling despite having the shortest fuse of the sextet. She’s the only person he’s ever known who can look that cute while half a second from trying to murder someone, which… was probably the moment he realized he was a little bit in love with her, come to think of it, and-

No. This is no time for flashbacks. Nina is curled up in a hotel bed next to him, at the very least shirtless which means probably completely naked, and he’s in the same condition and oh fuck this is not how he ever planned on this happening, they’ve had their flirtation for years but it only recently seemed like something he could act on and a few kisses were one thing but great he’s probably gone and slept with her and he doesn’t exactly remember that happening and-

Her hand pokes out from under the covers, and that ring was not there last time he remembers looking at her, and okay yeah now there is no way this can get any worse. Right? Like, he does know she has an implant, and he kinda wishes he didn’t know that given the circumstances but right now it’s the only comfort he can find, oh good grief did they manage to make every possible stupid decision last night or-

“Please tell me this is not what it looks like,” he says, and he’s half amazed the words even come out in the right order.

“No can do!”

She is way, way too cute for these circumstances. Dammit.

“Do you at least remember…”

“You thinking you could outdrink Jes, yeah, that was strike one. And it was cute so the rest of us let it go. And then we were wandering around, and we happened to walk past one of those wedding chapels, and-“

“So other people know this happened.”

“Yes. The rest of our group, and the least convincing Elvis impersonator I’ve seen this week and god there are hundreds of them out here, I think Inej said she saw a sign for a convention or something and-“

“And this is… legally binding?”

“Probably? Jes snatched the marriage certificate as soon as we signed it so I’m not sure that’s even accounted for but-“

Yeah. This is what he gets for thinking that, as designated responsible adult of the group – which is to say three years older than the rest of them with a nipped-in-the-bud military career and a recurrently fucked-up shoulder to show for it – he could more or less chaperone a spring-break Vegas trip. So much for that.

“We can get an annulment. If you want.”

Nina leans in and kisses his cheek, and god she’s so soft and perfect and no bad stop those thoughts, and she’s purring and her hair is everywhere and-

“I do not want. But if you do, I’ll deal, and if you distract I can probably steal Jes’s phone and delete the pictures and-“

“I think we have a few days to decide if we want to… do this. And I’d like to take them.”

“So, you’re not divorcing me before this cheap-ass ring turns my finger green?”

“Not yet.”

“Cool. If it matters, this is how I always figured I’d get married, so…”

This is a terrible idea, a crown on the top of three and a half years of terrible ideas, and he’s never wanted anything more. Is it wrong to think that? Is it wrong to want this, questionably legally binding as it may be? He’s never thought of himself as the marrying type, but if it ever happened, he thinks, there’s a certain kind of perfection in this and-

“We can try. If it makes you happy.”

She tackles him. That feels like a yes.

#helnik #ebf writes fic

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egcdeath · 3 years ago

Note

Since you said we can send in request😄 how about a bachelor party for Steve and reader. Full of fun and romance.

bottoms up

summary: steve tells you all about his wild bachelor party.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: excessive drinking, terrible decisions, fluff, basically a crack fic, i barely use dialogue tags in this so you’re just gonna have to guess who’s talking

author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble.

you can find my drabble masterlist here and my regular masterlist here <3

It had been a long, exhausting weekend of celebration. Of course, it was exhausting in the best way possible, but between the extensive spa days, bar hopping, and seeing more male strippers in one night than you'd seen in the entirety of your life, you were really looking forward to curling up in bed with your fiancée.

It seemed Steve was feeling similarly to you, as he was already pajama clad and sprawled across your bed by the time you arrived home.

You quickly freshened up and joined him on the mattress, slipping under your duvet and cuddling up to Steve.

“How was your weekend?” Steve asked, rubbing circles on your back.

“Exhausting. I could probably sleep for years.”

He chuckled softly at your statement, “well, don’t do that. Wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you over breakfast tomorrow. I don’t think I have the energy to come up with the words right now,” you aimlessly played with the hem of his shirt. “What about you guys? Why don’t you tell me a bachelor party bedtime story?”

“It was… a lot. I almost called you several times. Let’s just say that Sam... stopped me.”

“That bad, eh? Tell me everything,” you gushed.

“Well we were supposed to go camping. I don’t know who decided that was a good idea. Actually I do, it was Thor. It took about half an hour before Tony was starting arguments with everyone. I think he was getting moody about having to be in the outdoors away from all his tech, and something about how bachelor parties aren’t supposed to be like this. We didn’t even get to dinner before he insisted that we find a nice hotel to stay at for the night, and go to a club.”

“You guys don’t really seem like campers anyway. What happened after that?”

“I was getting there before you interrupted me.”

“There was a natural lull in your story.”

“Whatever. So we pack everything up and go back out to town. There was some boujee ass hotel Tony knew about and took us there, but there were no rooms. So he was like ‘make room’ and the staff told him that they would try but they just needed a minute. So Buck suggested that we go to the hotel bar, and we did. The only problem is that alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on some of us that it does with others, so Thor had to break out the Asgardian mead. And he had a lot of it.”

“Oh no, I feel like this is not going in a good direction.”

“You’re absolutely right, because one second I’m sitting in a hotel bar, and the next I was half conscious on a private jet.”

“Steve! You did not black out. That’s not very responsible of you.”

“I was peer pressured! Besides, I don’t think I did anything too bad. Did you not get super drunk for at least one night?”

You pondered the question for a moment, “hmm. Go on.”

“So I wake up on a private jet, not like a Quinjet, but like, a real plane. No idea where I am or where we’re going. Sam is the most sober among us by the time I’m awake, but still pretty drunk. Keep in mind I’m also a little out of it. I ask him where we’re going, and he told me Las Vegas. At this point I’m not surprised, but I want to call you to let you know that I’m no longer in New York, and I start to take my phone out of my pocket to call you, and he flips his shit. He grabs my phone and dunks it in a glass of water, and starts saying that if I use the phone on the flight, our flight will crash.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Now I’m phoneless, but I’m not really mad. Honestly, I thought it was funny in the moment. My memory’s a little blurry, but I feel like we laughed ‘till we landed.”

“Please tell me that the crazy events end here.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve chuckled.

“Christ, Steve.”

“So we get off the plane and at this point, I realize that Bruce must’ve left before we boarded. I don’t even blame him. This trip probably would’ve made me Hulk-out too. Anyway, we take an Uber to our hotel. Our poor Uber driver, he was so starstruck and excited to have Avengers in his car, but like, everyone was completely out of it. And to make things worse, Bucky threw up in the back.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. It’s only a matter of time before tabloids get ahold of that. Remind me to call our PR person in the morning.”

“Got it.”

“We finally get to this hotel, and I guess at some point while I was blacked out, Tony had booked us some penthouse suite at one of those really nice hotels. I can’t really remember how we got up there, but I know it was a struggle. I was just glad to be able to go to sleep in a real bed. By the time I wake up, I desperately need an Advil and a call home. Unfortunately, I can’t have either, since everyone starts insisting that the best way to beat a hangover is to drink more. To be fair, I slept in pretty late. So it’s kind of a reasonable time to drink now. If you consider time zone differences. That aside, I’m sipping on a beer when there’s a knock on the door-“

“I feel like I’ve heard enough of this story.”

“That’s fair.”

“But I’d also like to hear more. But this is stressing me out.”

“I made it back in one piece, what more do you want from me?”

“I want you to get a new friend group,” you whined.

“Is it bad that I want the same for myself?”

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Okay, so back to the knock on the door. I’m getting a little nervous, because I specifically told the guys no strippers. That was just a can of worms I didn’t want to open. And I think there’s gonna be a stripper at the door, but nope. Who opens the door? Fucking Loki. I don’t know why they came, or how they found us, but they were ready to party. Suffice it to say I do not remember the majority of that day. All I can say is that there was way too much gambling happening, and if I found out that Tony is filing for bankruptcy, I would not be surprised.”

“That is… wow.”

“I’ll give you one more thing before you go to sleep. Someone got married to a stranger. They’re gonna get it annulled but.. I did attend a wedding ceremony where an Elvis impersonator was the officiant,” Steve leaned over to his bedside table and turned off the lamp that was dimly illuminating the room. “Goodnight.”

“You are such an asshole! You don’t get to leave me on a cliffhanger like that.”

“I need you to be excited and engaged for when I finish my story tomorrow!”

“Fair,” you huffed and snuggled closer to your fiancée.

“Was it Sam?” you asked after a moment of silence.

Steve quietly laughed at you instead of responding.

“Nope. It was definitely Bucky. I’m right, right?” you pressed.

More silence from Steve.

“No way. Thor?”

His snickers became louder at this, and you gasped.

“I said I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“I don’t like when you keep secrets from me,” you prompted, trying to guilt trip your partner.

“Fine. It was Thor. But that’s all you’re getting from me for now.”

“Oh my god. Why wasn’t my bachelorette party as exciting as yours?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers drabble #chris evans x reader #neptune drabbles

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thescullyphile · 3 years ago

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Names

Established MSR (oh and I'm taking prompts if anyone has any :))

The stakeout- if it could even be called that- had gone on for way too long, by Scully’s estimation. Eight hours, spent in a car with cracked pleather seats and Mulder’s questionable taste in music, had forced Scully to drastic and dire measures. As much as she loved him, standing Mulder’s Elvis impersonation one more time very well might be out of her powers. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Hey, Mulder,” He looks at her like he is expecting a scolding, which makes Scully feel a little guilty, but she counts what is coming as reparations. “Do you want to play a game?”

Mulder looks at her in surprise. “Uh, sure. What did you have in mind?”

Scully shrugs, running her fingertips along the seam of her seat. They catch on the split fabric, a distraction from how badly she wants to hold his hand. She softens unexpectedly, something that’s been happening more and more often when it’s just the two of them. “You can pick, actually, I just don’t want to hear Elvis anymore.”

Mulder screws up his face like he is about to impersonate The King again, but he seems to think better of it and stops himself. His head lolls against the seat as he turns to look at her, and Scully mirrors him, annoyance fading quickly. Who could stay mad at a face like that?

“There was this game that Sam and I used to play. We’d call each other every name we could think of, then, once we ran out, we’d make up the funniest imaginary ones we could.”

Scully tilts her head quizzically. “No offense, Mulder, but I don’t think calling you names counts as a game. I can do that all on my own.” She smiles, tightlipped and cheeky, up at him. Her eyes glimmer dimly, the only light a streetlamp at the corner of the block.

Mulder stretches and moves in his seat to face her better. “Oh really? And what would you call me?”

“Well, I call you Mulder on the Bureau’s time, but I can think of some other things I’d like to call you on my own time.”

“Honey?”

“Hm?”

“No, would you call me honey on your own time?”

He’s teasing her now, looking at her with that microexpression that Scully knows well as ‘lovestruck.’

“Maybe.”

“Baby?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“My love?”

Scully cracks a grin at that one. “I actually just thought of a really cheesy response to that. You want to hear it?”

Mulder props his elbow on the center console and rests his chin on his hand. “I’m all ears.”

Scully leans in dramatically, his little co-conspirator. “I don’t call you my love, you are my love.”

That earns her a delighted chuff, and Mulder pinches her cheek like a little grandmother has inhabited his body. “That was awful. I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” They’re way too close now, in the dark, to claim any pretense of helpful investigation. Scully holds his eyes for a long moment, distracted by the sight of him, and is caught off guard when he backs away.

“Sorry,” Mulder smiles ruefully, “I didn’t think Skinner would appreciate having to bail us out for public indecency, and I’m not saying that’s where my thoughts were going, but…”

Scully places her hand palm-up on the center console, asking for his hand and making no other advances. “Mm, since when did you become so responsible?”

Mulder places his hand in hers but lets the question hang in the air, unanswered, as they turn their attention back to the warehouse they are supposed to have been watching the whole time. A few minutes later and he has apparently recovered his irresponsible spirit. “What about kitten?”

She is incredulous in response. “Kitten?”

“Not good enough? Bunny? Monkey? Turtle?”

She presses her lips together and creases her brow at his worsening suggestions. “And here I was thinking we were Moose and Squirrel.” He has to applaud her for the straight-faced manner in which she answers him, knowing now how much he secretly amuses her.

They’re still holding hands, and her thumb crosses his knuckles back and forth. He sneaks a look at her from the corner of his eye, and finding her attention on him already, decides to bite the bullet.

“What about Fox?” He asks softly.

Her eyes were already on him, but they lock in intently at his question. “I can call you that if you like.”

He doesn’t meet her gaze, keeping it trained on the streetlamp’s glow. “Sometimes, I don’t think I’d mind hearing you say it.” His voice is quiet, reflective like the light in his blown out pupils. “Sometimes.” He repeats himself, but Scully doesn’t have to ask why.

A stakeout car isn’t really the best place to have this conversation, but Scully understands anyways. That’s one of the things he loves about her, his thinker. Things don’t have to be practical or convenient. She’ll take his abstract thoughts and rambles and connect them into something understandable, something human.

“Is right now a ‘sometime?’” Her hand has stilled against his.

“Mmm. Do you want to find out?”

“I don’t know, Fox. Do you?”

Mulder lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally turning to look her in the eyes. “It sounds different than I remembered, coming from you.”

“What are you thinking?”

“It hurts less than it used to.”

Scully closes the distance between them, pressing a gentling kiss to his lips. Nothing else needs to be said, at least not now. She pulls away and it’s like nothing ever happened, except everything has changed. He’s not just her Mulder. Now, he gets to be her Fox too.

#the x files #txfic #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #they're in LOVE #it's for the people #can you really blame me?

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

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Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself. And @emkay512 for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world.

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better.

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration.

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along.

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed.

The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole.

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him.

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide.

“NOW, Leo!”

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.” Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace.

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap.

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress.

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags: @sanchita012 @narrytheworld @queenwalton @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

#fools rush in #liam x riley #the royal romance #liam x mc #trr #drake walker #king liam #bbrandy2002 #liam x oc

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faustocosgrove · 2 years ago

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Hells (2008)

watching this movie is like eating a ham and cheese sandwich. at first it’s like wow! i haven’t had a ham and cheese sandwich in forever and it’s the bee’s knees! but discovering a few bites in that you’re not really that hungry for a ham and cheese sandwich or anything at all really and the whole mess just feels too heavy in your stomach by the end of it.

the animation is fun in a way i can only compare to fooly cooly, which is a totally unfair comparison because fooly cooly’s story sucked ass and you’ve probably got a bad impression on this movie because i said it’s like fooly cooly. but it really just is the animation. things move in a way that’s fun, shit happens all over the place, it’s really… lacking in detail in a way that’s made up for ten fold with movement.

the story line is a hundred times better than fooly cooly…. which should simmer down any expectations you have. the writing is… eh. like 5 out of ten stars. if it would have stayed kind of detached and blas�� like escaflone is would have been a better story. like a real simplistic story that we all know where it’s going so we can pay attention to the animation and the kooky side characters would have knocked this movie out of the park. instead we got a bizarre massacring of christian ideology (which was kind of refreshing in it’s own right) and a bunch of rug pulls to the challenges the characters are facing along the way. i mean the school’s principal is a demon elvis impersonator called hellvis who has horns for nipples and is constantly shirtless to remind you that his nipples are little demon horns. that’s fucking funny. that’s peak character design! and they fucked it up by trying to be the edgiest of bitches and take shit up to eleven.

also it was dubbed by team four star, the people who did dragon ball z abridged. and the voice acting is good. i haven’t seen dragon ball z abridged so i don’t know how this compares to their other work but who ever did hellvis nailed it, whoever was rinne (the main character) managed to not be annoying (except when the script went off the rails), and everyone else was perfectly fine. not a single voice didn’t feel like it fit the character.

but for a 2000s horror comedy anime that i’ve managed to not see back in the day during my weeaboo phase, i was pleasantly surprised. i mean it’s no thelma and louise where i’m left questioning where this movie has been all my life, but i’m glad i watched it.

also there’s titties just warning you and not just hellvis’ titties

#hells #hells (2008)#fausto reviews things

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carmenxjulia · 4 years ago

Photo

Another Duane interview transcript, coming at you! This one was from a smaller Carmen Sandiego chatroom. There were several interviewers, so that’s why the name of the question asker changes. Get the details below the break! Stay tuned, more interview transcripts coming soon.

Duane Capizzi:

HI EVERYONE! I'M IN!

Sorry I'm late, I got lost on the way haha. Then got lost trying to change my PFP

Thanks for gathering! Shall we get started? Let's do some Q&A!

(as long as they are not geography questions haha)

Fuel:

What characters or plot points were cut from the final product?

Duane Capizzi:

Ooo, starting with a right hook to the jaw!

Let me think about that for a moment: I'm hesitant to give too much away because I'm really hoping we can tell more stories in this world at some point

Which is to say, we tend not to waste anything: if we don't use it when we originally planned, we usually find a way to use something later - and there's usually a "karmic" reason that we waited.

I'll also preface by saying this: I know season 3 was more of a mini-drop and some felt season 4 was rushed. But I wish EVERY season were longer. Season 1: ideally, i wanted the Pilot to be its own event and 10 more episodes after that (but we had to tell the post-Pilot story in 7. At the end of the day, that had its benefits: we got to the Shadowsan turn earlier and I think that's when a lot of viewers realized the ride they were truly in for). Season 2: we initially figured we'd need 5 episodes to have Carmen doing the ACME dance with Chief, and wound up doing it in 3 - mostly because it quickly became clear that Rio needed to be a 2 parter, and the Zack and Ivy backstory a rough 2 parter. So we squeezed 3 episodes worth of plot into 209. It was exhilarating!

So, we had hoped to have more episodes for Season 4 of course. We had a ton of ideas and had to compress things a bit. But honestly in many ways it was for the better. I know we all wanted to live in this world longer, but I think sometimes the flip side is true - when you have big ongoing storylines, it can get frustrating when some things drag out too long. But, we got all the "story" we wanted to tell in Season 4 - we just lost some "incident" if that makes sense. We would have taken longer to get there.

So, all that preface to answer the question: we wanted to do more musical numbers! We had a Bollywood dance sequence in a return to India caper with Paperstar. We wanted to do a famous Elvis suit theft in Las Vegas during an Elvis impersonator convention (Shadowsan's an early elvis guy; Brunt likes the Vegas "jumpsuit" era). We also wanted to do a thread where Gunnar gets captured by ACME so that Julia could interrogate him and he could play mind games with her a la Hannibal Lector and Clarice. CAVEAT TO ALL THIS: these were some ideas that were bouncing around, that may not have seen the light of day if we couldn't get them to work. But they were on our wish list.

re: "other stories" - I could live with these characters for another 32 episodes easily and there have of course been discussions. But alas, that is up to the powers that be. Let's keep fingers crossed - and keep the Carmen love alive online so that someone up there takes note

There is more of course, but those are some things that spring to mind.

Fuel:

Were there any scenes cut for time that were your favorite?

Duane Capizzi:

Not much springs to mind: our directors were amazing at getting everything in the scripts to fit naturally (and in fact, I was the one who was usually suggesting trims to let other things breathe, etc). We were limited to 22 minutes of episode time, NOT counting front and end credits so a little longer than the average show. We have a pretty good idea when the SCRIPT is too long, so the cutting usually happens at script stage before it gets to the board crew so that they don't waste efforts over-boarding material that won't be used.

We had hoped to build out Chase and Carmen teaming up for the first time, meeting at Carmen's hotel lobby etc for more scenes of them together; but had to reduce that to get that all to fit in the VERY packed episode 406. But again, tighter was fine considering. That's one area that leaps to mind. (note that when I say packed, I don't mean that in a bad way: we spend a lot of time pouring over details in editing to make sure everything gets its due).

If I think of anything, I'll circle back at a later point. But the simple answer is that scenes were usually trimmed or compressed at script rather than board or animatic. So nothing comes to mind. I know it's hard to believe, but "shorter is usually better."

except for my answers to fan questions of course

Fuel:

We saw that in s4 episode 6 that Julia's mother(?) is wearing a necklace remarkably similar to the one Julia wears all the time. Is this the same necklace and if so, why was it given to Julia?

Duane Capizzi:

Just when I thought I was detail oriented! Wow! You guys blow me away

I can't take credit for that: it was either the board artist or director who added that. They do slip things in! As I've said before, EVERYONE on the crew really brought their A-game and were as deep thinking and as passionate as I was/am about the show.

It's a nice detail and I would say your interpretation works!

It took me three or four reviews before noticing that the team had slipped in baby Carmen near the play set in Mom's front yard at the end of 408. When I caught it, I was like: bravo!

Fuel:

When they first met, Zack and Ivy said to Carmen that they were the only family they had, do you know what happened to the rest of Zack and Ivy's family?

Duane Capizzi:

I don't. At least, I don't yet until such a time that I might have the opportunity to explore that. It was important to their relationship with Carmen that they be orphans, so they had that common bond (aside from being "thieves who steal from bad guys" - even if it was only gonna be one time for Zack and Ivy).

I know there are writers out there who like to do entire bio's for characters up front but i'm not one of them. It could be a trap in many ways. I like to have a general idea but be open to the demands of the ongoing storyline. You discover things along the way - it's like you're taking a journey with the characters by writing them, and the longer you spend, the better you get to know them (that was not a prepared statement by the way - I just made that up but I'll have to use it again :). So in Z/I's case it wasn't important to the story or Carmen's relationship, we felt. Conversely, we STARTED with Shadowsan's family backstory with 203, but more important to me was that we use it as a platform to explain why he stays with Carmen and crew. He really has no home at that point, so it was relevant to the present ongoing story. Which is what made that especially powerful to me.

Also, there's always a push-pull between telling character back stories while balancing them with ongoing episodic plots. You have to service both. If you just tell back story, then you're writing a biography

Arden:

What was the biggest challenge when designing these characters, especially the pre-existing characters from the series in the 90's?

Duane Capizzi:

This is probably more of a question for Chromosphere, re: challenges. But from my standpoint overseeing that process, the first thing I'll say is that we weren't necessarily trying to be "true" to those characters since we reinvented nearly every one from the ground up. (with the exception of Carmen of course - her trademark red hat/coat weren't going anywhere! But mostly the update with Carmen was in the styling of her "outerwear"

ALTHOUGH: I will admit that I was pushing for Carmen to have shorter hair as Carmen. I thought it would be a cool update. Chromosphere were really passionate about giving her long full hair and I have to see that they were right. The short tomboy cut worked so well for Black Sheep anyway. We had a different hair style for each of her ages.

So about the reinventions: Gunnar is in spirit a similar character to the original (old colleague in Vile and an early mentor if I remember), but his presentation completely different. We weren't trying to be "in canon" with the original. The beauty of CSD is that every incarnation has been its own entity so that freed us to reimagine the characters. THE CLEANERS, for instance: gimme some Cleaner love! There were a pair of janitors from the original game named RICK AND NICK ICK. They were literally janitors, it was too silly for our purposes. But, it's one small step to make them "Cleaners" (in the sinister hit men sense) - and lo, our reinvention.

So to summarize the answer to your question, they weren't really challenges to me so much as FUN to creatively reinvent the original characters (many of which were from the game, so not really "characters" per se with dialogue and inner lives). Whenever we could, we tried to use character names from the originals and update their looks and personalities. Where we couldn't find an equivalent for what we needed, we created characters from whole cloth. For instance, it seemed a miss to do a heist show without a tunnel guy and a high rise climber guy. Hence, LC & ET, everyone's favorite taco truck vendors!

(yes, i've seen some short hair carmen fan art on Twitter - someone did a great one recently!)

Arden:

Are there plans to give us more of the characters in, say, novel/graphic novel form?

Duane Capizzi:

I know HMH has done a bunch and no doubt have more in works. There's currently a novelization of the Pilot with some additional material if anyone's interested. I consulted on the second one, Clue for Clue, because it falls in the timeline while Chase was still Interpol/pre-Acme so was tricky.

And depending on whether another series in this canon makes it to air, I may just approach them about writing one or two myself to get some "further adventures" our there. Anything is possible!

Arden:

If you could go back and change anything about the series, what would it be?

Duane Capizzi:

File under anecdote, but there was what I felt was an important expression on Gray that kept me awake at nights, from his graduation ceremony at Vile. When we revisited those flashbacks in the Gray arc in Season 4, I had them change his expression there (to be more evil less innocent). We had it corrected in 404 so was able to get permission to have Netflix "fix" the Pilot by adding that shot in. I am tenacious!

We really poured over everything, it's the series that I have virtually zero complaints with the end product to be honest. But the simple answer is: I would have gone back to 106 and "un-greek'd" Gray's nametag. It's sort of a rule for international that we scramble signage (which is weird for a show that takes place in many countries/languages, I know I know). It's mostly for localization/translation reasons. And I'm sure there are some countries where Gray's name might be spoken differently. But as a proper name, I think we could have made an exception and seen "Gray" on his name tag. See? Details! But that's about the worst of it

there's also like one small line from Chief in 208 where she indicates she knows Carmen is a good guy (something to that effect) which I felt was too absolute and would have tweaked the line to temper it a bit. It's tiny, but looking back it sort of bugs me and I kick myself for not catching it. But this is absolutely the series I wanted and couldn't be happier.

Carmen:

How did Carmen know she could trust Julia? As far as we know, she has not seen or heard Julia defending her, and in the Fashionista Caper, Julia even held up her gas gun to her, saying she was under arrest. Do you have any opinions on this? Was it just intuition?

Duane Capizzi:

I'm gonna go with intuition

Carmen was raised on an island with some hardened criminal types. I think she's a pretty good judge of character. Poor Julia, trying to be tough with Carmen didn't suit her.

But, great observation! I'd have to mentally step through everything to see if Carmen had any earlier indication but i think you're right there.

Yes, sometimes you just gotta follow your heart

Carmen:

Are there any characters that didn't actually interact that you think would get along well?

Duane Capizzi:

Amazing question! First, I'd have to think more about who DIDN'T meet - you're asking the hard questions haha. But "get along well" is very specific! Hmmm, care to volley anyone?

I'll also add that so many smaller moments get lost in the "binge" of it all, but I am surprised how few fans have noted the first meeting between Player and Julia. THAT was a good one IMO! Very sweet!

Before getting back to your question, I also want to add that we were originally going to find a way for Carmen to lose her earring in Stockholm so that Julia could pick it up and be communicating with Player. BUT, I cut it at treatment stage because I knew we didn't have room in that episode to service it. Circling back to questions 1 & 2, another case where it turned out better saved for later IMO (saving Player meeting Julia, not to mention the earring business in 402 with Ivy).

Oh of course, Julia and any of the other Vile members. It would have been Gunnar for my vote, as mentioned earlier. We probably would not have had Julia meet anyone else and mixed it up more. I like that Cleo sort of became J's personal nemesis.

YES, SONIA & XIFENG (and LUPE PELIGRO, if I can add). The intent was (and is, if we ever get to revisit) to see them again in Carmen's travels. We started to expand Carmen's world but when we finally learned the finite number of episodes we had to finish the story, we drilled back down into the essentials. Would love to see them some day!

I'm hesitant to share too many things I have in mind in this forum for hope that they will see the light of day one day. You know, "spoilers"

Julia:

Do you have any opinions on Zari? Just in general? Some thoughts on her backstory would be nice if possible

Duane Capizzi:

I love Zari! I really don't have any back story on her at this point. She was originally just "Agent B" but when the need arose to give story points to another agent, we chose her because she looked so awesome! And Sharon Muthu gave voice to her so wonderfully.

I love when we finally teamed her with Chase. Hopefully the anticipation was that she would give him a hard time. I love that we defied expectation (organically, of course) and had her respect him by the end of that episode (for believing that he foiled Carmen!)

Julia:

Do you have any thoughts on small facts about any character, major or minor, that you think are fun/interesting to think about, but don't necessarily add to the plot itself?

Duane Capizzi:

Bellum, like myself, likes cats. But you knew that!

I try to put everything pertinent on screen, doing double duty to service any given episode's story but also the overarching story. That "journey" thing I mentioned earlier - we had no idea Chase falling on his own car would be a thing when I first came up with it. But as other characters refer to the incident, it took on a life of its own and made the characters feel more real.

Sorta kinda related to this question and some earlier ones, I will say that I DO think there's more to learn about Shadowsan's past vis a vis Lady Dokuso: it's clear to me that they have a history together, and it's something I hope to explore someday soon (maybe in a book if not another series

Julia:

Are the Carmen Sandiego books a part of canon?

Duane Capizzi:

I only consulted on the first two or three (too busy with series!) and have not read them, so hard for me to answer in a definite way. They are definitely in the universe we've created, but not in the timeline that I know of (which would have been too hard to pull off with our script development running concurrently). But do know that the book team at HMH pays close attention to the series and world so they should be perfectly compatible. Look no further to their clever social media on the series for example.

Kenz:

We saw in season 4 that Julia and Carmen helped each other mid to long term; would there ever be a possibility that Julia would permanently or semi-permanently join team Red?

Duane Capizzi:

Of course there's a possibility. But in a sense, with ACME now finally on Carmen's side, in a sense if Carmen were back in the game Julia, Chase, Zack and Ivy would ALL be an extension of Carmen's crew. But, would J remain with ACME or literally come to Carmen's team at her HQ? As they said in an old radio show: "Only The Duane Capizzi knows ..."

Kenz:

Where do you see Carmen in her retirement (if she retires)? Do you think she would still travel the world or settle down somewhere? Similarly, do you have any thoughts on what some other characters could be doing years down the line?

Duane Capizzi:

That is a big question, and one difficult to answer without some potential future spoilers (and yes, I really want to tell more Carmen stories if you can't tell But I'll answer by giving you one "read" on our open-ended ending as seen in 408 (read no further if you haven't seen it - yeah, right haha). The ending suggests to me that Carmen settled down for a spell to forge that relationship with her mother, to make up for lost time. But, if that is indeed Carmen that we see on the rooftop, I think the ending suggests that Carmen doesn't stay still for very long. If Vile is back, there is work to be done! Carmen has a life mission - she's one determined lady.

But of course, it's deliberately ambiguous: "anyone with your heart, wisdom and courage can be Carmen Sandiego." Is it Carmen? Sonia? Someone we haven't met? I think both endings resonate: Caroline and I always said "Carmen is bigger than a person, Carmen is a movement" would be a great message to end the series on. And I think our ending resolves this chapter of Carmen's journey as a person, but also elevates her to mythic status. Which is why I love it!

And, that seems to me a pretty perfect question and answer to end our chat on. Thanks everyone! Again, I cannot tell you how moved I am to see that we have such a passionate, intelligent and talented fan base. THANK YOU.

Take care guys, thanks again for having me! 'night!

#Carmen Sandiego #CS Crew #Duane Capizzi #Interview #Transcript

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bamon4bamily · 4 years ago

Text

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 1 of part 1) Enjoy!

Cut to - The Salvatore mansion family room, present day. Damon is watching Bonnie sleep. She wakes up slowly…

BONNIE: Ian?

DAMON: Ian? Who the heck is Ian? And tell me where he is, so I can kick his ass!

BONNIE: (Smiles) Sorry, had the craziest dream… And your name was Ian, for some screwed up reason…

DAMON: Oh, okay… then Ian is cool in my book! (Smirks and gives her a kiss).

BONNIE: What time is it?

DAMON: Almost 3pm…

BONNIE: What! Oh my god! I had to be at the airport an hour ago to meet Elena! Shit! Shit!

DAMON: Uhm… Bon… don’t you remember?

BONNIE: Remember what?

DAMON: About Elena…

BONNIE: What about Elena?

DAMON: Her flight got canceled; she got another one straight to Vegas. You don’t remember?

BONNIE: I do, I do… Told you, strange dream… I’m still a bit drowsy.

DAMON: Well, she won’t be able to help you bring all that “bachelorette” stuff. But the bachelor boys are heading the same way; I’m sure we can fit some of it; just promise me there’s nothing illegal in those bags.

BONNIE: (Mischievous smile) I can’t promise you that…

Cut to – Two days later, somewhere in the middle of the Mojave desert. Damon, who looks like hell, is dialing on his cell. Behind him, a crashed police car with Alaric, Iker, and Kai inside; also looking like crap. They are wearing nothing but their underwear.

DAMON: Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

Cut to – A couple of hours earlier. A Sky Villa at the Palms Casino Resort.

Damon wakes up confused, he is lying on the bathroom floor, drool coming out of his mouth, brain drilling headache. His vision is blurry, but he manages to recognize a familiar face, lying inside an empty bathtub, completely passed out. The familiar face is Kai, dressed in what seems to be a ballerina tutu.

He stares at him for a minute, wondering why he is there… not in the bathtub, but in Vegas; he hadn’t been invited. Oh well, he’ll figure it out later. For now, he needs to do an overall casualty assessment. He gets up slowly, holding on to whatever is at hand. He eventually gains the balance to find his way out of the bathroom, and into the living room. The place is a war zone, the hotel bill won’t be cheap! Amongst the debris of the previous night, he searches for other survivors…

Soon enough he finds Alaric, also passed out, half of his body hanging over the piano, which, to Damon’s surprise, a monkey seems to be playing.

DAMON: What the… (shushes the monkey away from the piano, shakes Alaric to wake him up, no response… He hears a sound coming from a mount of sofa cushions and clothes; someone is under there… it’s Iker, who slowly fights his way out).

IKER: (Looking messed up and disoriented) Hey, man… (looks around, grabs his head) What the hell happened last night?

DAMON: Beats me… I can barely remember my own name…

(Alaric wakes up suddenly, holding his hands up in a cheer).

ALARIC: Jackpot, bitches!!!!!!!!!!! (He realizes he has no idea where he is, or making any sense). Hey, guys… where am I? What are we doing here?

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Oh, boy… I have a feeling this is gonna be fun!

(Kai walks out of the bathroom, passes them by, but apparently doesn’t notice they are there, and goes into the master bedroom, throws himself on the bed. Just as he gets comfy, he realizes something is very wrong…

There is an elephant in the room; literally. Jumps up, screams like a little girl, runs out of the room and shuts the door).

KAI: Holy shit! There’s an elephant in the room!

DAMON: I’d say you’re right, stalker boy. What the hell are you doing here?

KAI: … I have no idea, but I swear, there is an elephant in that room!

DAMON: Are you sure it isn’t Stefan? He can look pretty scary in the morning…

(Goes to check it out, vamps back about a second later) Nop, that ain’t Stefan… and there is definitely an elephant in the room... (takes a drink).

ALARIC: So, where is Stefan? And, why the hell is he (referring to Kai) here!

DAMON: Ric, I think we have more important things to focus on right now… Like, for example, there is a freakin elephant in the room! It’s a baby elephant, yes, but still, a freaking elephant! Those things are dangerous! Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s also a loose monkey somewhere around here! What the hell did we do last night? Rob a zoo?!

IKER: The only thing I have a vague memory of, is a steakhouse, a casino… a strip joint?

KAI: That pretty much describes all of Las Vegas, so, not a lot to go on.

DAMON: Okay, okay, I’m sure we can figure this out.

ALARIC: Let’s just find Stefan and get the hell out of here, before they put us in jail.

DAMON: Fine. Shouldn’t take too long. Ric and I will check every corner of the villa. Iker, you and psycho boy check around the hotel… restaurant, pool area, casino, etc.

IKER: (To Kai) Think you can keep up, princess?

KAI: (He hadn’t noticed he was wearing a tutu until this moment; he looks at Damon) This was definitely your doing! (Takes the tutu off).

DAMON: (Sarcastic smirk) Probably… Okay, let’s move.

(They search everywhere, Stefan is nowhere to be found. They teamback at the villa).

ALARIC: Well, we’ve searched everywhere, he’s not here. (Sarcastic) This is great! The wedding is tomorrow, our plane leaves in a couple of hours, and we are missing the groom...

We should call Caroline, maybe he ditched us and joined the girl’s party.

DAMON: And if he didn’t?

ALARIC: They can help us find him.

DAMON: Did you get brain damage last night?!

No way we are calling Caroline! I’d like to live a long and happy life with my Bon-Bon, so, not an option! Just chill, we’ll find him. He couldn’t have gone that far… it’s Stefan, he’s probably hunting bunnies. All we have to do is retrace our steps from last night, and we’ll find him.

ALARIC: The main issue being… none of us seem to remember anything about last night!

KAI: (Coming from another part of the room) Okay, I just called reception, they assure there is no Stefan Salvatore at any of the area hospitals, morgues, or police stations…

DAMON: No shit, Sherlock, he is a vampire! Of course he wouldn’t be in any of those places…

IKER: Wait… a police car… I remember we were in a police car!

DAMON: Ooh, that can’t be good…

KAI: Oh, oh, oh, no, no, no… (looks at his hand) This can’t be good either (shows them a very tacky ring).

DAMON: Come on, that’s just your daylight ring.

KAI: No, no… I don’t need a ring for that… which means this is … (takes the ring off, sees it’s engraved) most definitely a wedding ring!

ALARIC: Who the hell would be crazy enough to marry you?!!

IKER: (Cracking up) Shit, this too funny…

DAMON: (Takes the ring from Kai, reads the inscription) “To my knight in shining armour, from your damsel in distress” - Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. Well, boys, I believe we have a lead…

We need to go to this chapel, ask them if they remember us; and if Stefan was with us.

KAI: And who the hell I married!

DAMON: (Sarcastically) Oh, I’m sure she’s a lovely gal.

ALARIC: I’ll get us an uber…

Cut to – Cupid’s Wedding Chapel.

As soon as they walk in, the receptionist recognizes them.

RECEPTIONIST: Oh, shit! You guys are back!? Please, just no stealing the “King’s” costume this time!

DAMON: You remember us?

RECEPTIONIST: Of course I remember you! You guys are crazy! Specially you, damsel (winks at Kai). Where are the other three?

ALARIC: What other three? We are only missing one…

RECEPTIONIST: Uhm, no you aren’t; there were seven of you. You four… the wolf man, the cop, and the handsome hero hair guy.

DAMON: So Stefan was here with us, that’s a start!

ALARIC: And, apparently, Matt and Tyler too… So, not only did we lose the groom, we managed to loose two members of the wedding party. (Sarcastic) Fantastic!

KAI: Listen, I really need you to tell me who I married last night...

RECEPTIONIST: Sure, you married Whitney Houston; you lucky bastard!

KAI: What!? I mean, I love me some Whitney, but, really? She married me?

RECEPTIONIST: (Looking confused, and a bit sorry for him)

Well, an impersonator, obviously. The real Whitney has been dead for a while. Boy, your hang-over must really be screwing with you.

IKER: Don’t these places usually offer packages? Like photo albums and stuff…

RECEPTIONIST: We sure do.

IKER: Did we, or he (referring to Kai), buy any?

RECEPTIONIST: The whole nine yards. I thought that’s why you guys came back. (Takes out a box of wedding souvenirs and a photo album) Look… mugs, crystal balls, pins, key chains…

DAMON: Let’s go straight for the album… (They go through the photos. Some are “somewhat” normal...

Others, go along these lines… Kai, dressed as a ballerina, and the bride dressed as a noble knight. Stefan, wearing an Elvis outfit, mastering every single one of his iconic poses. Iker and Damon playing catch with the bride’s bouquet. Alaric, sneaking about, in full Indiana Jones mission. Matt, riding an inflatable unicorn, role-playing to be the Lone Ranger. Tyler, on all fours, howling).

DAMON: (Terrified at the pics they just saw) Oh god… I don’t even want to know...

ALARIC: (Sharing the sentiment) Oh, fuck no... apparently, I was the one to walk Kai down the aisle… Those pictures really need to be destroyed….

RECEPTIONIST: I’m telling you… you guys are totally insane!

ALARIC: You don’t happen to know where we were heading when we left here, do you?

RECEPTIONIST: No. But you did mention something about settling a debt; getting Britney Spears back for something…

ALARIC: Britney Spears?

RECEPTIONIST: Yep; the hero hair guy kept going on and on, about her owing him big time; and that he was going to collect… And you (referring to Damon) kept saying “It’s Britney, bitch!” That’s all I got, hope it helps. (Alaric looks at Damon to see if he remembers anything from hearing that …)

DAMON: Sorry, man, I’m at a blank…

IKER: Wait… I think I’m getting a flashback… of you (referring to Damon), strip dancing to “Gimme More”?

DAMON: No… I’d never strip dance to that! Britney Spears? Nice try, but nop.

KAI: Oh, come on, everyone loves Britney!

ALARIC: I think I remember that… God, please, take that image out of my head! Of all things, that’s what you chose for me to remember?! Have some mercy!

DAMON: If I did… I probably rocked it (winks and smirks).

IKER: Okay, I’m definitely gonna need therapy after this trip.

ALARIC: Well, we got all the information we are going to get from this place; and I don’t think I want to find out more. So, what’s next?

DAMON: I say we pay Miss Spears a visit…

ALARIC: First, no one would ever let us be less than 300 feet from her. Second, that’s ridiculous; she is obviously not involved, aside from you stripping to her songs. What we need to find is that strip joint we apparently went to after, or before, this place.

IKER: (Who has stumbled upon a box of matches in his pocket) Maybe this can help… (shows them a very tacky match box, which reads: Mystic Divas.

Cut to – Mystic Divas strip joint. The place, given the hour, is obviously closed. Just as they are about to leave, a woman, wearing Whitney’s “Queen of the Night” outfit, spots them as they are about to leave.

LADY: My princess! (Runs to hug Kai and kisses him) Why you bail on me last night?! Thought we were having fun!

KAI: Uhm… I’m guessing you are, my knight in shining armour?

LADY: Sure am! Till death do us part… (Sees Kai’s terrified face and laughs) Don’t worry, it was only pretend, honey, nothing permanent. We were both really drunk and thought it would be fun.

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Aw…what a love story! (To the lady) Sweetheart, you think you can help us put some dots together?

LADY: I can, but there is no way I’m letting you on my stage again. And, don’t call me sweetheart.

ALARIC: So, we were here last night?

LADY: Physically, yes. But I’m not sure any other part came along. Y’all were completely wasted.

IKER: All, meaning us four; or were there more?

LADY: Shit! You really don’t remember anything?

DAMON: (Trying to avoid the whole Britney strip thing) Nop!

LADY: Well… you were all here; plus the other three dudes.

ALARIC: I’m assuming that was before “the wedding”?

LADY: Yes. This is where (looks at Kai) we fell in love. But we came back here after the reception. Well, only me, my hubby; you fine looking thang (referring to Iker), and you, the ultimate party pooper (referring to Alaric). Don’t know where the rest of you went. All I know, is that my princess here, pulled a runaway bride after he got a call, and you two (referring to Iker and Alaric), left along with him.

ALARIC: Do you know around what time that was?

LADY: I’d say three-ish? Anyway, I have to go (kisses Kai on the cheek) It was lovely being your wife for the night. Good luck boys! (Leaves).

IKER: Not bad, psycho boy, she’s hot!

KAI: (Proud smirk) Totally hot!

ALARIC: Kinda reminded me of…

DAMON: (Before Ric says the name, he knows he’s going to say, he changes the conversation) Kai, check your phone…

KAI: (Rubbing it in his face) What... she remind oyu of someone, Damon?

DAMON: Please, you wish!

Now, check your freaking phone!

KAI: Fine, fine… (looks at his received calls; sure enough he has an inbound call, from an unknown number, at 3:13 am) Well… Yep; I received a call, clueless about the caller, but seems like we had a lot to talk about, call lasted 20 minutes…

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Gee, I wonder how we can find out who the mystery caller is?

KAI: We could try to hack into the local police system, they have a huge database. Except, we’ll need a computer, preferably a stolen one so it’s untraceable…

IKER: (Also sarcastic) Or, maybe just call the number?

KAI: Of course I was gonna do that first! I was just thinking ahead, in case we get no answer. Amateurs!

(Calls the number…) What a surprise… no answer! Oh, wait… (someone answers: Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately).

DAMON: So, who was it?! Why did you hang up!!

KAI: Ooh, I’m getting a bad feeling…

ALARIC: Give me that (takes the phone from his hand, calls the number… Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately) Shit…

DAMON: So, who the hell was it?!

ALARIC: Not who, but what…

DAMON: Ric, I’m too hung-over to be playing guessing games.

ALARIC: Does anyone remember anything about a psychiatric hospital?

DAMON: Now, that’s definitely a place Stefan could be at…

KAI: Specially if he was found hunting bunnies…

DAMON: Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…

ALARIC: I’ll get us another uber…

IKER: Wait…

Uber! Of course! I can’t believe we didn’t think of that! Everyone, check your phones for any trips we took last night.

DAMON: Duh! Man, we are really out of it! (They check their phones…) Well, I have one at 5:30, from the hotel to the Andiamo Italian Steakhouse, downtown. And another one at 7:40, from the steakhouse to the Bellagio… That’s it.

IKER: I have one, from the Bellagio to Mystic Divas at 1:06am.

KAI: As for me, one, at 3:33am, from Mystic Divas to the Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital…

ALARIC: I don’t have any from last night.

DAMON: Okay, so far, our best bet at finding Stefan is at that psych hospital. Let’s move.

TVD 9x16 (part 2 of part 1) coming very soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

P.S Had to split it into more parts otherwise it would be too long for one post per part.

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be-dazzled · 5 years ago

Note

88 and Gruvia if you're still doing the prompts pls

88. “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…”Rating: M for sensitive language and content

Juvia woke up utterly confused. She didn’t understand her body. The headache was so severe she thought she got hit by Thor’s hammer. Maybe, she did get hit by Thor’s magical hammer. She had no memory of what happened the night before. If Juvia tried to remember, her head felt like an egg about to crack open. With the pain she was suffering, Juvia preferred that too and wished that her head would just split into two.

Oh, the throbbing was killing her.

Her mouth tasted weird too. It was as if she boiled some dirty socks unwashed for almost a month of use and sipped the dirty sock soup. Juvia forced her eyes to open. Apparently, she could still do that at least. A low groan forced itself out of her mouth when she tried – and failed – to prop her elbows and help herself up. Juvia expelled a frustrated breath and decided it would be better if she turned to her side instead. But that caused somewhere else to throb.

Weird.

The heavy drapes were drawn across what she remembered to be a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the iconic Caesars Palace fountains. Good, she was still in her suite. Juvia hoped she didn’t do anything weird or funny last night.

Fragments of last night flashed before her eyes. She saw a picture of a strange woman dancing atop a pool table waving some replica of Thor’s hammer. Looking closely into the memory, Juvia realized the stranger looked exactly like her, except that the dancing woman’s clothes were kind of disheveled. The resemblance was uncanny. Maybe, because the wild woman dancing atop one of the pool tables was her – Juvia Lockser.

Hands flew to cover her mouth. It definitely was her! And suddenly she remembered taking her top off too, in front of so many people. Did she sign up as a stripper or something? Juvia prayed it was just her brain toying with her to teach her a lesson.

This isn’t you, Juvia Lockser.

She could hear a voice at the back of her mind reprimanding her.

You are not some kind of a lose woman.

And now she was talking to her own brain but she, the brain, was right. Juvia was a far cry from that shameless woman waving her lace bra like a flag. She got her shit together, stripper Juvia obviously did not. But between the two of them, stripper Juvia seemed happier – real Juvia wasn’t.

The taste of acid began in the pit of her stomach. The harsh reality was reminding her why she decided to fly off to Las Vegas and leave everything and everyone behind.

Bora. That son of a bitch.

But she wasn’t going to think about that jerk. She was in Las freaking Vegas and she seemed to have enjoyed herself last night. It was the only explanation why it felt like her body was thrown around the room. Another head-cracking throb hit her head. She decided to sleep it off. Thinking and remembering wouldn’t do her any good. If she didn’t force herself, Juvia knew she was going to remember the entirety of the night. She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to face that reality. So, Juvia lied back to bed, only to sit right back up when she felt some movement beside her.

The horror of the possibility rounded her blue eyes. She slowly turned to her side where she felt the continuous stirring. Juvia shuddered the moment it registered to her what – or who – made the stirring: a man. A warm flesh of a man was sleeping beside Juvia and he had his bare back on her.

Juvia became suddenly aware of that other part of her body where the throbbing was coming from. Somewhere down south. Juvia expelled a scandalized shriek.

“Hey, can you quiet down a little?”

The mystery man turned to her and Juvia didn’t care how good-looking he was. She didn’t care how chiseled his features were. That light stubble under his chin. That jaw that every male model would die for. That red swollen lips that was just begging to be worshiped. And that black bed hair. Oh god.

And she didn’t absolutely care that the white sheet fell down his lower abdomen, exposing some tanned skin and that good ol’ happy trail. She shook her head to get rid of the tempting thoughts. There was a more urgent issue on hand.

Like…

“Who the hell are you?!”

With her tone, it sounded more like a sentence rather than a question.

One corner of the stranger’s beautiful, beautiful mouth pulled up in a smug.

“Hey, don’t tell me you already forgot.” The stranger leaned closer, invading her space more than what she would allow a stranger. His dark blue eyes bored through her – teasing and taunting, filled with heat that was turning the pain in her core into something else. Something tingly. “You kept screaming it the whole night.” Then he continued, mimicking how she ‘screamed’ his name. “Ooh, Gray. Mm. That’s it Gray. Yes, Gray, there. Don’t stop, Gray. Oh G–”

Before this ‘Gray’ could get to that part which Juvia now vividly remembered, the mortified bluenette let out another ear-splitting scream. Not the kind of screaming the stranger was talking about. This wasn’t music to the ears.

“For such a small woman, you have a lot of that going on, don’t you?”

The glint in his eyes told Juvia that Gray was the kind of man whom no one ever said no to, who always got his way: proud and confident. Those kind of men scared Juvia. She slowly moved away, wanting to put safe distance between her and the stranger. Juvia was so occupied at wanting to get away from the raven-haired stranger that she didn’t notice that she was already backing away at the very edge of the bed.

“Hey!”

For a man with an ugly hangover, Gray’s reflexes were like that of an athlete. He pulled Juvia at the very last minute before the woman fell off the bed.

Juvia wasn’t sure if she should be thankful because apparently she was bare naked under those sheets and so was Gray. And she found her very naked breasts slapped against his hard chest. The heat that she was fighting exploded at the contact.

So, she did the most logical thing to do and pushed poor Gray stumbling off the bed.

“Aw!” he cried. A shock of black hair popped out of the edge of the mattress. “Woman! You are very violent.” Gray nursed the back of his head that earlier made contact on the carpeted floor. But the wince was quickly replaced by a lopsided smile. “I like it.”

“Get out!”

Juvia jumped off the bed, ignoring her body screaming pain, and backed away from the stranger as far as possible. She only stopped when the back of her thighs hit the bedside table. She tightened her hold on the white sheet wrapped around her body.

“Hey, you’re the one who invited me up here.”

Juvia grabbed the lamp and threatened Gray with it.

“Geez, you react like this now. Wait ‘til you remember every detail.” he said, raising one teasing brow.

There seemed to be a very dark and exhilarating story behind his grin. But that wasn’t the most exciting part of Gray because when he stood to his full height, Juvia’s eyes drifted down that part she shouldn’t be looking at, that part that made her heart tremble. Juvia immediately tore her scandalized eyes away from that part, but not without a second glance.

He was still hard.

She threw the pillow at him which he easily caught. Next was the lamp, which Gray luckily dodged. Then, everything that Juvia’s free hand could grab.

Gray stepped back, shouting at the crazy woman who was throwing things at him. He raised his hand to try to stop the woman and talk some sense into her. Until, a slim light hit the gold band around one of his fingers.

“Woman, wait!”

Juvia was trying to haul the bedside table, giving him some time to tell her off.

“Don’t panic… but I think we might have accidentally gotten married.”

Gray raised and showed his ring finger wrapped with the gold band. Suddenly, Juvia felt something cold on her finger. She checked her hand, praying to the gods of Las Vegas and that Elvis impersonator she saw in her memory that Gray was wrong.

He wasn’t.

The band on her ring finger was very and awfully identical with Gray’s.

“I. WILL. KILL. YOU.”

You know that thing that people say explains how a thin, scrawny person could carry a refrigerator double his size during a fire? Gray could only guess but those people were right. It was the only explanation as to why there was a shattered furniture next to him which came from the slender woman at the opposite end of the room.

Gray was realizing it only now but his new wife was a very violent person. He should tell his assistant to get him some life insurance.

…

Writer’s Corner: I’m stuck with #SIYC so I’ll try finishing requests here on tumblr. Man, the draft for this has been sitting on my desk for a very loooong time. But since we guys have some time in our hands for now, we’ll try to get things done. I hope I get around this writer’s block and continue with our favorite Bunhead and Hoopster.

AND I do smell some new modern AU fanfic coming on.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #be-dazzled #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairytail #fairy tail #send asks #ask me #send requests #prompts

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tkstreyes · 5 years ago

Text

Burning Love

TK and Carlos impulsively fly to Las Vegas to get married in one of those 24 hour chapels, complete with one of those Elvis impersonators to officiate. Couldn’t resist using an Elvis song for the title that also happens to be a pun for TK as a firefighter (sorry not sorry!). One of many fic ideas from @theworld-is-out-there !

Word count: 1.75k

Carlos looks around nervously at the neon signs and the bustling traffic of the Las Vegas Strip. “Are we really gonna do this? Because I love you, like so much, but we can wait. We can have a big wedding with all of our friends and family if that’s what you want.”

TK looks at Carlos with so much love in his eyes for this man, this man who has been patient with TK from the start, this man who has never given up on what they could be.

“My dad is going to kill me… but fuck it, Carlos. I don’t need a big, fancy wedding. I just need you to be my husband. Today. So hell yeah, we are really gonna do this!” TK can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he grabs Carlos’ hand and pulls him across the strip to the nearest 24 hour chapel.

……….

“We are gathered here today in this sacred house of Elvis to unite Tyler Kennedy Strand and Carlos Reyes in holy matrimony.” TK and Carlos can’t help but giggle at this impersonator’s terrible Elvis impression and the absurdity of this whole thing, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. “Since this is a 24 hour chapel and there are no appointments, we are gonna do the quick version of this. So if you have your own vows, let’s go ahead and do those now.”

TK takes a deep breath before locking eyes with Carlos, tears threatening to spill over.

“A year ago, when I decided to go back to the 126, I told my dad I had never been more sure of anything in my entire life. But today, this right here, us. There is nothing Carlos, not even being a firefighter, that I am more sure of than what you and I have. I used to think that it took a whole lot of effort to make love work, but it turns out that I didn’t really know what true love was. You have taught me that true love is as easy as breathing; it’s as easy as running into burning buildings and chasing down the bad guys.” TK can’t help but smirk and send Carlos a wink before continuing. “True love is not about the grand romantic gestures or the show of trying to one-up each other. It’s about taking comfort in the little things, like the way you always leave a cup of coffee waiting for me when you have an early shift. True love is being on the same page as someone else without having to say a word. It’s when you can tell how I’m feeling from just one look and when we can run into the middle of disaster knowing we’ve got each other’s backs.”

TK takes a shuttering breath and gives Carlos’ hands a quick squeeze. “I once said that I thought we make a pretty good team, but now I know, more than ever, that there is no team I would rather be a part of, including the Yankees, which is really saying something. Don’t tell my dad; he would never forgive me.” Carlos lets out a wet laugh, tears shining in his beautiful brown eyes. “I have had struggles, but I am grateful because those struggles led me to you. Thank you for loving every part of me, especially on the days when I feel as though I don’t deserve that love. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, diving into the action with you right by my side.”

With a shaky breath and blinking away the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, Carlos gives TK’s hands a squeeze, and looks back up at TK, at his future.

“When I became a police officer, I made an oath to protect and serve the people of Austin and my community. Today I stand before you and… Elvis,” he pauses to send a amused look and a head nod to the fake Elvis, “to make another oath. An oath to protect and serve you, Ty. An oath to always be there for you to come home to after a long shift, an oath to stick to my side of the bed and not steal all of the covers, an oath to hold you when the bad days come and to go to meetings with you when you need me most.”

TK’s expression softens and tears start to fall from those gorgeous green eyes of his. “An oath to keep you safe, just like you keep me safe. An oath to love you, just as you have loved me. Thank you for opening your heart to me and letting me love you as wholly as you have. I know how hard it was for you to let me in, and I am eternally grateful that you did, because you have given me the greatest love I have ever known. And it’s really just the cherry on top that you, Tyler, are a straight up ten. It’s honestly a crime how gorgeous you are; I should arrest you right now.”

TK can’t help but snort and shake his head at the comment, face flushing. Only Carlos can make him feel like a love struck teenager falling in love for the very first time.

“I know that together we can make it through anything. We can be anything. I cannot wait to begin this new journey with you. Wherever our future may take us, I want you to know that I will always be by your side, ready to take on the world with you.”

The fake Elvis is almost as choked up as TK and Carlos, which just makes them laugh through the tears. Elvis takes a deep breath, “Okay, so Tyler Kennedy, do you take Carlos Reyes to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

TK smiles bigger than he thinks he has ever smiled before. “I do. Of course I do. 100% forever, babe.”

“And Carlos, do you take Tyler Kennedy Strand to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Through thick and thin right? Hell yeah, I do. It’s you and me, Ty.”

They exchange the rings they had bought just hours earlier when they had landed in Vegas.

“Well then, by the power vested in me by this fine house of Elvis, I now pronounce you hunks of burning love as husbands. So go ahead, kiss y’all!”

TK surges forward, arms wrapping around Carlos’ shoulders as Carlos’ arms wrap around TK’s waist. Their lips gently brush, sweet and gentle. TK sighs into the kiss, experiencing a feeling of peace flooding over him, unlike anything he has ever known. Carlos doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, pouring every emotion coursing through him into it. They reluctantly break apart, foreheads touching and noses brushing.

“God I love you so much, Carlos,” TK whispers softly.

Carlos smiles softly, completely content. “I love you too, Tyler.”

……….

“Woah, well look who it is. Pretty boy is back, y’all!” Judd yells into the station as TK walks up hand in hand with Carlos. TK is jittery; Carlos can feel the nerves rolling off of him.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine, Ty. Your dad loves you, and as long as you’re happy, he can forgive us for doing this without him.”

TK looks back at Carlos with a watery smile, “I have never been happier. I just don’t want him to be pissed is all.”

“Yeah I know, babe. Well, time to face the music, or should I say the sirens, I guess,” Carlos says with a chuckle.

Owen comes pounding down the stairs. “TK Strand, where have you been?! You called me so frantically asking for a couple days off and then you just disappeared! Is everything okay? I mean, you look healthy, you look fine… Well, you’re alive so that’s good—”

“Dad!” TK cuts him off before he continues ranting for much longer. “I’m completely fine. More than fine actually.” He gives Carlos one more smile before continuing. “And it’s actually TK Strand-Reyes now.”

Owen looks back and forth from TK to Carlos, eyes wide. “Wait, what?!” TK can hear the rest of his crew coming to find out what all the commotion is about.

“Umm yeah… Carlos and I kinda flew to Vegas and got married in one of those 24 hour chapels, yah know, complete with an Elvis impersonator and everything.” TK raises his left hand, showing off his new ring to punctuate his last statement.

The rest of the crew comes to greet the couple, and Mateo, with his attention to detail, immediately notices the ring. “Holy shit, y’all got married and didn’t invite us? Wowwww man. I’m hurt,” he says with a smirk, a hand on his chest feigning injury. Everyone laughs and rushes forward to give the couple their congratulations, hugging TK and affectionately patting Carlos on the back. The only member of the crew still hanging back, who still hasn’t even moved, is Owen.

TK walks slowly towards Owen, nervously looking back at Carlos, who gives him an encouraging nod.

“Dad..? Are you… okay with this? I know I should have told you, but I couldn’t go another day not being married to Carlos, not being his husband. I have never been more in love in my entire life, and you have always taught me that sometimes you have to take the big leap. Go big or go home, right?”

Owen takes a deep breath before pulling TK into the tightest hug. “I am more than okay with this TK.” He pulls back with his hands planted on TK’s shoulders and a big smile. “You really do seem the happiest that I have seen you in a really long time. Do I wish I got to be a part of your wedding? Of course, but as long as you are happy, I am happy for you, son.”

TK lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and lets out a wet laugh before pulling his dad back in for another hug. “Thanks Dad. I love you, you know.”

“Yeah I know, but don’t you go having any kids without telling me. I would like to know if I am going to be a grandpa.”

The crew laughs at Cap’s comment, and Carlos walks over, taking TK’s hand. “Okay, Cap, I think that’s fair,” Carlos chuckles, and TK kisses his husband on the cheek.

#911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #tyler kennedy strand #carlos reyes #tarlos fics #tarlos fic #tyler kennedy strand fic #tk strand fic #carlos reyes fic #911 lone star fic #katie writes

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buginateacup · 4 years ago

Text

@dalniente I’m making a new post for this

So based off our previous conversation I’m reposting this thing separately because I went for a walk and words started percolating and now I have three pages written already and there would be SO MUCH PINING. Because of course they cant be married they just need to get an annulment there’s no way this could ever, would ever work between them...right?

Original idea below based on the idea that Roxanne bills Megamind for destroyed shoes and clothing for the last seven years

Just Megamind looking over this list Roxanne’s presented him with and just going “Minion fetch the piggy bank!” and just smashing it open to hand her a diamond or something! And then being like, “Wait no that ones flawed you need something better...aha!” and hands her a better diamond on a ring instead (my brain escalates these things. Its what it does) and Roxanne just boggles and throws it back at him shouting “I wanted to get my shoes replaced not for you to ask me to marry you!”

“I wasn’t asking you to marry me!” Megamind did not think this through he’s panicking and Roxanne is looking furious and elsewhere in Metro Wayne Scott’s superhearing just heard the words “Marry me” and yes finally things are happening its about time.

“Well good!” Roxanne should not open her big mouth when she’s angry this is utterly humiliating why did she even mention marriage of course he wasn't proposing he doesn't even like her. This was the worst idea ever she just wanted to not have to worry about the blisters from breaking in another pair of shoes when she’d rather pay attention to the giant spiderbot or talk to him about how the brain-bots AI works.

“No. Not good! Not good at all!” You handed her a ring you mega-idiot what else would she think! This is nothing like the occasional hours weeks years of daydreams he’s absolutely never had ever in his life that she would say yes. That she would ever want to marry him. This is the worst this is the absolute worst “As if that’s the kind of ring I’d ever propose to you with!”

“EXACTL- wait what?” He’s thought about a ring? He’s thought about a ring specifically for her? That is not a normal thing. That is something people only consider when things get really serious. Why has he thought about a ring for her?

“What?” You just...keep making it worse for yourself don’t you Megamind. “Of course I wouldn’t propose to you with some possibly cursed ring! You deserve sapphires as blue as your eyes!”

“And you deserve emeralds to match yours!” Oh my god Roxanne shut up shut up shut up, “ Why are you giving me a cursed ring!”

“Possibly! Possibly cursed!” Ahahahahaha help oh evil gods help, “Any ring I did propose to you with would be 100% not cursed! Emerald cut sapphire in a platinum band framed by baguette cut diamonds!”

“See now that sounds like a ring I would be happy to accept!” Stop talking Roxanne please, please try and get out of this with some shred of dignity left.

“Fantastic! I’ll make it for you tonight!” Oh no.

“Wonderful! I cant wait to wear it!” Oh fuck.

“Brilliant! Are we engaged now?” Of all the ways Megamind’s plans have backfired over the years he never imagined an outcome like this...

“Yes! I don’t know!...I guess? Sure! Fine!” Roxanne wonders if this is what it feels like when one of his plans goes awry...

And then we have two options, the first where the shouting continues...

“Thank the evil gods because I have been in love with you for years!” and Megamind storms towards Roxanne and pulls her into his arms

“Well good because I love you too!” and she wraps her arms around him and...

well...

turns out billing your supervillain for damages is a great idea after all.

And the Second which is much funnier...

They are not engaged. Definitely not. Today has just been a shared hallucination and they are going to go home and never speak of this again.

And this is about to get really funny or really terrible but they’ve finally stopped shouting at each other and they’re just looking at one another and Roxanne sort of sways and Megamind sort of sways and...

And Minion is suddenly there hugging them both and is just so ecstatic that neither of them have the heart to tell him that its all a big misunderstanding (is it?) and they’re not really engaged (are they?) but sure he can make Roxanne’s dress so they can get him out of the room for ten minutes while they actually work out how to tell him this was a mistake....

And then Metro Man flies in like “I’m so happy you two crazy kids finally worked this out!” And Megamind and Roxanne are both just...freaking and Wayne is going on and on about how much he wants to help plan the wedding and Roxanne says the first thing she can think of to not get roped into a Scott Family Event with a capital E and blurts out “We’re eloping!”

“We are? I mean yes! We are! Absolutely!“ Megamind agrees. They can get in the invisible car and just drive until they figure this out or until they run off a cliff whichever will be easier

(the cliff is currently winning)

“Oh great!” says the oblivious Wayne Scott who is just so, so happy for these two, “I’ll fly you down to Vegas right now!”

And he does. With Megamind and Roxanne in one arm and Minion in the other and Roxanne and Megamind have no way of communicating without the others catching on so they are just exchanging these panicked glances and then blushing because holy fuck why is this happening this was not the plan and before they know it they’re standing in front of an Elvis impersonator saying “I do” and Minion is throwing confetti shaped like brain-bots and Wayne is crying and Megamind and Roxanne managed to get a whole five minutes to themselves before the wedding to be like “Okay this is insane but we just get divorced later right? How hard can it be? We’re a damsel and super-villain no one will be surprised when it doesn't work out” (no matter how much they each privately might want it to).

That kiss though...that is really something.

They share a honeymoon suite with the works (courtesy of Wayne). Flowers, chocolate, champagne, his n hers bathrobes. It is extremely awkward. (except the bit I just wrote with body chocolate which, omg) There is only one bed and it is the size of a small continent and they still wind up accidentally tangled together the next morning.

But its fine. Its absolutely fine. There’s a divorce register in the hotel lobby exactly for these kind of situations. No one is even going to know.

Except Wayne flies back to Metro with Minion and they make a big delighted announcement so when Megamind and Roxanne do show back up (the Divorce register opens late on Sundays and they had to check out by ten. The universe really must have it in for them or something). The whole city knows.

And is actually pretty happy for them.

Apparently there had been a pool.

(Carlos, Roxanne’s doorman, won if you’re interested)

Okay fine, they can pretend for a while. Figure out some way for Megamind to go back to villainy and for Roxanne to go back to being kidnapped. This isn’t going to backfire at all.

Only Roxanne goes back to her apartment (alone) to have the panic attack she’s been pushing back for the last 36 hours, to find removalists on site and a representative from the city explaining seeing as she’s no longer the Metro City damsel she’s not entitled to remain in her lovely open living giant balcony apartment she’s been living in for the last seven years that the city has been subsidising her rent on.

Roxanne’s apartment is was very nice and extremely expensive. More than she can afford on her own. So she puts her stuff in storage, packs a bag and hunts down the Evil Lair. And she walks in like “Hi Husband. I live here now I guess.” (please don’t throw me out can I stay? Can I stay forever?)

And Megamind who has been contemplating cutting off his own finger rather than trying to remove the ring he’s still wearing, sees her walking in with a bag, still wearing that awful (possibly cursed) ring and just...

Right.

Okay then.

Hi wife, please stay and never leave but of course we cant be married what were we thinking and now we have to keep this a secret from Minion except we live with Minion and he’s going to be very concerned if you ask for a separate bedroom and I guess I’m a superhero now which means you’ll be getting kidnapped by other villains and that is NOT OKAY AT ALL and there will definitely be a “That’s my wife!” moment and no one understands why I look so absolutely gobsmacked when you kiss me on live tv after I rescue you and you tell me you love me but oh of course it was for the cameras it wasn't real

SO MUCH ANGST AND PINING

...

This is a problem they can solve...somehow

Except now they’re stuck married and living together and all of Megamind’s uncles are asking when he’s going to bring their new niece in law to visit. and there is so much PINING because they each think the other doesn't want to be married except they sorta want to and ugh...

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

Roxanne woke up in the middle of the bed, one leg twisted around someone else’s and the taste of chocolate still in her mouth.

This is not her bed.

Did she hook up with someone?

There is someone snuggled close behind her breathing softly. She can feel a lean chest bare against her back and is that a goatee pressed against her shoulder?

Roxanne opened her eyes and looked down blearily. there was an arm around her waist, pulling her back against the body behind her. She has her fingers tangled in the other persons hand. There's something about the arm. She squinted in the early morning light.

Its blue

Well

That’s okay that’s just Megamind then. Roxanne closed her eyes and snuggled backwards a little. The arm around her waist tightened and the lips on her shoulder pressed a sleepy kiss against her skin.

...Wait

That's Megamind.

Roxanne's eyes shot open. She pulled her hand and the one she was holding up to the light. Definitely blue. Long fingers and square palms and definitely not human.

And there are rings

There is one ceramic zirconium band in dark grey and a large (possibly cursed) diamond ring on the ring fingers of each of their hands.

Why is she in bed with Megamind and why are there rings and oh god she just remembered everything.

Very carefully she laid their joined hands back over her waist and hoped desperately that she can just fall asleep again and not deal with this.

She can feel the moment Megamind wakes up. A whole body shudder goes through him from his feel up to his head and he shakes into full alertness.

"Oh evil gods"

She felt him roll onto his back and press his hands over his face. But her hand is still tangled in his so he winds up pulling her on top of him instead.

And Roxanne panics and flails and rolls over as well until she is lying on top of

...her husband

He's her husband.

He's her husband and he's awake and she's awake and he's looking up at her with brilliant green eyes the colour of emeralds and she sees the recognition dawning and she wants to kiss him, wants to say "hi", wants to say "want to stay married?", wants to say "what if this wasn't a mistake?" but what comes out is "We should get divorced."

#fake married #megamind #vegas wedding #dal is a fanfic #bug is writing a thing #help somebody please #rings #is a working title #I keep writing the same scenes as sweet and then as painful painful angst

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

another kind of green (10/10)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I’m going to post this a few days early per a few requests, and I hope you all enjoy the ending! To those who were waiting to binge read the entire thing, now’s your opportunity! haha.

Thanks to @xemmaloveskillianx choosing | forgotten first meeting + accidentally married | as her fic giveaway choice! It was difficult to figure out at first, but I had a great time writing it for you 💚

ao3: beginning | current

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-/-

“So,” he starts as Emma clasps her bra and adjusts the straps until they’re in place, “that was – ”

“A one-time thing,” she quickly says, not allowing him to finish. “I’m not interested in anything more.” “Aye, neither am I.”

It’s been awhile since a had a one-night stand. They used to be more common for him, even if they did usually turn into month-long flings, but not so much lately. Tonight is an outlier, a what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas kind of cliché, and no matter how much he’d like to pull Emma back into bed with him for another round, she seems ready to go.

Good. That’s likely for the best for both of them.

No strings attached.

“Good. We’re in agreement then. Thanks for the – ”

“The best orgasm of your life?”

Emma throws her head back with laughter, her tangled hair cascading down, and she quickly brushes through it with her fingers. God, her hair was soft. “Don’t flatter yourself. It was good, but I’m not giving you the best title.”

She reaches down and grabs her leggings, and he decides he should get dressed, too, pulling his jeans back on. “You going to give me another chance to try to take that top spot?”

“Huh. You wish.”

“I obviously do.”

She’s got to be one more cheeky statement away from slapping him.

They both keep getting dressed, falling silent in their conversation, and then all of the sudden they’re standing in front of his hotel room door. When did they move? Maybe the champagne affected him a little more than he thought if time is blurring together like that.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Emma rasps.

“Going down to the casino.”

“You can’t go to the casino. I’m going to the casino.”

“It’s a big city, love. I imagine we can both go. There is quite the selection of casinos.”

“I’m going to this one, though. I do not want to have to go to another hotel when I have a bed here.”

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to manage to share the same space. We’ve been sharing a rather close space for the past hour, so I think we’ll be right as rain.”

Her eyes roll, and she quickly turns away, grabbing the rest of her belongings and opening his door. Killian follows, keeping his distance behind her, but they easily fall in step with each other. It’s weird walking with her now, hostility running between the two of them in the very hallway where she practically had her hand down his pants an hour ago. Killian tries not to think about it, to think about how damn good that felt and how frustrating it is to have Emma be so put off by him now.

This woman doesn’t make any sense.

Then again, who spends time together after a one-night stand? You either get up and leave right afterward, sneak away in the middle of the night, or have awkward conversation in the morning. Or possibly morning sex, but that’s the best case scenario.

They’re having awkward conversation right now. He should have stayed in the room. Instead he’s standing in an elevator with the woman he just fucked, and he’s never felt quite so claustrophobic.

As soon as the doors open, he’s going in the opposite direction of her. That’ll fix all of these problems.

“Hey,” someone yells when the doors open, “you two got married earlier!”

“Wrong people,” Emma mumbles as she steps out of the elevator.

“No, no, it was the two of you,” another girl says. It’s an entire group of them, all in matching outfits. Bloody hell. It’s a bachelorette party. Why do women insist on dressing alike when someone is getting married? “You had on the most gorgeous dress. It made me want to throw out my dress and buy a new one.”

“Oh, don’t say that. Your dress is gorgeous.”

“But it wasn’t like hers!”

“Yours is better. No offence.”

“None taken,” Emma laughs, looking over at him and smiling before quickly turning away and crossing her arms over her chest. Well, at least she smiled. “I’m sure your dress is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I’m Anna, by the way. Can we buy you two some drinks? We’ve got a package with the hotel, and I’d just love to hear a little about the wedding.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Emma begins, nibbling on her lip. “I, we – ”

“That sounds great, Anna,” he interrupts. “Emma and I would love that.”

He knows Emma is shooting daggers at him with her eyes, and honestly, he doesn’t blame her. He’s just roped them into spending more time together as well as spending time with an overenthusiastic bachelorette party. If the woman didn’t already dislike him for everything outside of sex, she’d hate him now.

But honestly, it’s not bad. The women are nice, if not a bit loud, and he and Emma manage to string together some kind of fake story about their wedding and their courtship. Neither of them discussed actually telling them the truth, but he has a feeling they would all be absolutely devastated if they learned the truth. They’re very much a group who are in love with love, and if the drinks they’re getting weren’t so damn strong, he’d be bitter about it and say something about being engaged not being all it’s cracked up to be.

He couldn’t tell anyone what marriage is like. But engagement? He knows enough about that, and his certainly wasn’t like this.

“Do you want another one?” Emma asks him.

“Aye.”

She raises her hand over the bar, her sweater rising to show off her toned stomach, and orders them two more drinks. They might as well take advantage of the free drinks while they’re here.

“So, how long are we going to keep telling these women that we’re married?” she asks as she takes another sip of her drink. It’s mostly ice now, but she can’t seem to stop. “As long as we’re getting free drinks? Does that make us horrible people?”

“It makes us opportunists.”

Her eyes roll. “If it wasn’t one in the morning, I would probably protest.”

“It’s a good thing it’s one in the morning then, isn’t it, love?”

The drinks keep flowing as they move away from the bar and move toward the casino, spreading out to slot machines and poker tables. It’s been awhile since he played. Liam used to love the game, and everything Killian knows about it is from him. That’s a good thing when Killian starts winning a little money. It’s not such a great thing when security comes over because they suspect he might be counting cards.

His brain is not functional enough to count cards right now.

He’s definitely drunk. He knows that he is, and at some point today he should have had a little more water. This has not been his most well thought through day.

“Who knew you were such a rebel, nearly getting kicked out of a casino?” Emma asks, walking up to him and poking him in the chest after security finally lets him go. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Darling, you barely know me.”

“True,” she slurs. “What do you say we get out of here since I don’t think security is going to let you keep playing?”

She stumbles, just briefly, and Killian grabs her waist, squeezing her hips. “I thought you said you didn’t want to leave the hotel.”

“Did I?”

“I think so.”

“Huh. Well, I’ve never been to Vegas. I’d like to explore. C’mon, Jones. Let’s go. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

“No, love, I suppose I don’t.”

One minute he’s standing in the middle of the casino floor only inches away from Emma, and the next they’re walking hand in hand around the Venetian as Killian weaves some kind of story about how they’d tell Anna and her friends that they honeymooned in Italy and how they would absolutely eat that story up. He keeps thinking this isn’t real, that Emma shouldn’t still be standing next to him and that this is all a dream fueled by their sex, but she feels real.

She is definitely real.

And he’s very aware of how she’s clinging onto him in the small room that they’re in.

Wait. Weren’t they just outside? They were. They were also thinking about getting a gondola to ride, but now all of the sudden they’re in a room with the two of them, a few other people, and an Elvis impersonator.

What the fuck?

“You may now kiss your bride.”

Killian looks at Elvis before looking at Emma, and all the sudden he remembers walking into this chapel and remembers that he and Emma are getting married. She’s so pretty like this, her smile so bright, and he can’t quite believe she agreed to marry him. He thought he already had the one woman who would say yes to marrying him, but she eventually changed her mind. Now he’s got another chance.

This is a bloody brilliant idea.

Quickly, Killian bends his knees and dips his head down until his mouth is pressing against Emma’s.

-/-

Emma Swan is kissing him.

Emma. Swan. Is. Kissing. Him.

Killian knows how she kisses. He remembers how she moves her lips and how she knows how to perfectly move between aggressive and careful, and he knows that’s exactly what she’s doing right now.

The thing is, he can’t quite believe it’s real.

That she’s real.

He hasn’t seen her in two weeks. The Academy has been kicking his ass six ways to Sunday, and all he’s done is go to training, come home to eat and study, fall asleep, and then wake up and do it all again. He’s been awful at keeping up with his relationships and with his runs with Emma, and he kept meaning to call her. It was killing him that he kept blowing her off, but then he’d get called away and the thought would slip his mind.

How could Emma Swan have ever slipped his mind?

That’s something he’s been asking himself for months now as he desperately tries to remember every single detail of the day they met and the hours following. Only bits and pieces have come back after they slept together, and as much as he wants to know what happened, maybe it’s better if he never remembers.

Maybe it’s better if he leaves in the here and now because Emma is doing this particularly delicious thing with her tongue that has his heart pounding.

This is about the last thing he ever expected to happen when he told her they were married and that they’d need an annulment.

God, they were supposed to go out to celebrate the annulment.

Emma starts to move away, her mouth fleetingly leaving his, but he doesn’t let her, wrapping one arm around her back and pulling her toward him while his other hand grabs onto her ponytail and gently tilts her head in the way that he wants to. She got to kiss him the way she wanted, and he damn well intends to get the same opportunity.

Now that the initial shock of her being here is over, now that he knows with complete certainty that this is real, he can feel the softness of her lips and the glorious way that her breasts press into his chest. He’s felt all of these things before, but it wasn’t like this. The last time was different. It was in a buzzed haze of lust and champagne, and while he feels the slightest buzz now, it’s nothing that would make him forget.

How could he ever again?

“Emma,” he whispers as he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers while they both pant, trying to catch their breaths, “what’s happening?”

And then he’s being shoved backward until he’s stumbling back into his apartment and Emma is following behind him. She’s strong, but she shouldn’t have been able to shove him backward as much as she did. Then again, showing up and kissing the holy hell out of him is the exact way to catch him off guard so that he’d stumble over practically anything.

What the hell is happening?

Now that he’s looking at her, he can see the fury in her eyes and the way that her hair is falling out of her ponytail. She’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, and when he looks down at her feet, he sees that she’s in her running shoes.

In the weirdest way, he’s missed those shoes.

She ran here.

“It takes five seconds to text,” Emma pants. His body is having a difficult time ignoring the rasp of her voice and the sweat on her skin, especially as it trickles down between her breasts. “It takes five seconds for you to tell me whatever the hell has been going on that you haven’t been able to go on our runs or get dinner or do whatever the hell it is that we do. Because do you know how it looks to me when I tell you about how shitty people have treated me only for you to practically disappear the next day? Do you know how shitty it felt to get our annulment papers and then have you disappear? Because I thought – I thought we – ”

“We did. We do.”

Her brows shoot to her hairline. “We what?”

Killian takes a step forward, close enough to grab Emma’s hand, but he doesn’t. “We were friends. Are. We are friends, love. I also thought that we might possibly be more. You kissing me kind of confirms that for me.”

Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of red, and the corners of Killian’s lips tug up. He bets she hates herself for blushing right now. “I’ve kissed you before. You don’t know that it means something.”

Impossible. She’s absolutely impossible.

He rather likes that about her. Quite a lot actually. Definitely more than he ever expected to when he met her.

Definitely more than he ever expected to like anyone again.

“I do.”

“How?”

He braves the next step and moves closer to her, tucking a lose strand of her hair behind her ear. She doesn’t move away, and he has to hold in his exhale of relief.

“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you. You make me sure of things I’d otherwise be unsure of, and you give me hope I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Her eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them, and unlike so many other days in his life where there’s nothing extraordinary happening, he knows that this is one that could change so much. “Your eyes are so beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them before.”

“Do lines like that work on all of the girls?”

“I really only care if they work on you.” Emma huffs, and Killian dips his head down to hover his lips directly over Emma’s. He can feel her breath and the heat of her body. He can feel everything. “I’ve been having my ass kicked by training. I’m so exhausted day in and day out that I barely remember to eat. Not being able to run with you, not being able to have you take the piss out of me over my smoothie choices, has been torture. I didn’t want to leave you when the papers came in. I – ”

For the second time in five minutes, Emma slams her lips into his. She’s a force of nature, this one, and he’s not sure what to do.

Well, besides kiss her.

He’s completely blindsided by her being here, by her doing this, and somewhere in a small corner of his mind, he knows they should talk. He’s been burned enough times by physical relationships that he knows exactly how things like this go, but this isn’t that. This is a bloody confusing relationship that he couldn’t put into words if he tried.

“Are we – ”

“Yes.”

“Do you – ”

“Yes.”

Killian laughs into Emma’s mouth as she pushes him back into his apartment, his feet nearly tripping over Will’s bloody out of place shoes. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

Emma stops kissing him, pulling back as he chases her lips, but he stops right before he captures them once more. “You were going to ask if we were going to have sex.”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner. A man likes to be courted.”

Her brow raises. “Are you serious?”

It’s nearly impossible for him to hold back his laugh. “Swan, there is literally nothing in the world I want more right now than to have you, but I need you to know that this isn’t going to be just sex for me, not like it was the first time. I know you now. I know the sound of your laugh and how you act when you don’t have coffee or food. I know, well, I know you more than I think either of us expected to get to know each other, and I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

He knows Emma well enough to know there’s a chance she’s about to walk back out his front door, but saying that was worth the risk. He doesn’t want to start something that’s going to end up hurting them both.

God, he should have found the time to call her this week. And last week. He’s got to apologize to her again.

Her chest heaves, the sweat there beginning to dry, and she opens her mouth only to snap it closed. “It’s not going to be a one-time thing. It means more to me now, too.”

“Good.”

He can’t seem to stray far from Emma, his hands running along the sides of her neck before falling down to her arms, and the way she’s working a spot on his neck is absolutely divine. She’s intoxicating, and every breath is not enough. That should terrify him. Hell, it should have him running out his own front door. This spark that runs hotly between them isn’t entirely new to him, and the last time it blew up in his face.

This has all the potential to do the same.

Or not.

“Is Will home?” Emma murmurs as they walk back toward his bedroom.

“At work.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want him walking out of his room and seeing this.” “It’d be quite the show.”

Emma pushes against his chest, but he easily grabs her waist and turns her around until he’s the one guiding her. She didn’t know where they were going anyway, was simply aimlessly guiding him until his back hit a wall and until her sweatshirt was left on the hallway floor. There’s so much happening right now that reminds him of their night in Vegas – the fumbling with clothes and heated kisses against walls as heat continues to simmer below his skin – but he knows this is different.

She knows it, too, which may be the best part of all.

A lifetime ago, he’d have despised himself for thinking things like that when a woman was undressing in front of him, but that was the past. This here and now? It’s better.

They’ve made it to his bedroom now, and his heart beats in a heavy pattern while his erection is tenting his sweatpants. It’s incredibly uncomfortable at this point, but he doesn’t intend to rush this. Not when things are so tentative and not when he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Oh my God,” Emma groans.

“Darling, I don’t think that’s the way you’re supposed to say those words in this particular situation. It’s supposed to sound a tad more…pleasant.”

“I can’t get my damn sports bra off.” “What?” Killian laughs, backing away from her to look at her as she tugs on her bra.

“I’m sweaty. Or, like, I was. I literally ran here. I can’t fucking get it off.”

His laughter keeps bubbling in his chest, mixing in with the heat between his legs and his focus on getting some kind of relief, but Emma is standing in his bedroom, half-naked, and she can’t get her damn bra off.

“I am probably the sexiest woman you’ve ever slept with, right?”

“Aye,” Killian says, completely serious. He steps forward and leans down to press his lips to her collarbone as he tugs the material of her bra up. It is stuck, but with a little willpower, he pulls it up and off of Emma until it’s falling to the ground so that she’s bare to him. “You are.”

Her cheeks flush red, and that flush moves down toward her breasts. It’s a beautiful sight with which he cannot wait to become more acquainted.

“Shut up and get on the bed.”

“So demanding, lass.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I ran a few miles to get here, and I think I’m running on limited time before my body decides to stop working.”

“I haven’t slept more than four hours a night in two weeks.”

“So this is about to be really good sex then?”

“Aye, absolutely.”

Emma falls back onto the bed, and Killian cages her in, moving his mouth of hers and licking into her mouth while his fingers trail down her body, one hand palming her breast while the other finds the slickness between her thighs. He groans at the feeling, at knowing this is for him, and it doesn’t take long before her thighs are quivering from his ministrations. She’s very nearly there, her back arched off the bed, and this is better than any and all of his memories.

“Condom,” Emma pants. “Get a fucking condom.”

“I – ”

“Please do not make the joke I know you’re going to make.”

Killian huffs and curls his fingers inside of her once more before pulling out and leaving a soft kiss to her inner thigh, watching as her skin twitches with his touch. He quickly gets the condom from the box in his bedside drawer, rolling it on and wondering why the hell that takes so long, before he moves to hover over Emma again. She doesn’t let him, though, encouraging him to lay on his back as she straddles his hips and curls her fingers into his chest hair.

“This is a new side of you, love.”

“I’ve got a few of those.”

He arches a brow. “Really, now?”

“Hold your horses, tiger. One at a time. I’m not some kind of contortionist energizer bunny.”

He bites his cheek, a comeback on the tip of his tongue, but then Emma is guiding him into her, the warmth of her surrounding him, and all of the breath leaves his body at the feel of her.

Bloody hell.

He can already feel his release licking at his spine, but it’s too soon. There’s so much left to be done, and he’s not some teenage boy who’s going to fall apart at first touch.

Emma looks ethereal above him, even under the harsh lighting of his bedroom, and he watches as her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks and a smile curves at her lips. And then she starts moving. It’s slow and steady at first, the both of them testing each other out, but then his hands grab onto her hips and she really starts moving.

It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before. “You’re absolutely everything,” he breathes. “Bloody magnificent.”

“Killian, I – ”

He nods and leans up to wrap his arms around her back, pulling her toward him so their chests brush together, and then he’s carefully flipping them around, slipping out of her for a moment before slamming back in. They’re both almost there, bodies shaking and breaths gone, and he’s purposeful with his thrusts and with the way he moves his hand where they’re joined until Emma sucks in a sharp breath and begins to fall, becoming more glorious by the second. He works her through it, letting her wide out the waves, but then he starts fucking her in earnest until his own release is thrumming at the base of his spine and working through him.

Killian collapses on top of her, crushing her with his weight before propping himself up on his elbows so he can look down at her and the absolutely goofy grin on her face. He’d like to see that more often.

“Better than the first time, aye?”

Emma laughs and reaches up to push his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “It’s not a competition, but yeah, better than the first.”

Killian huffs and falls to her side, quickly pulling off the condom and tying it before dumping it into the trash. “You should show up to my apartment more often then.”

Emma turns on the bed and reaches around to pull the comforter up over her. He grabs it and helps tug it up over both of them while Emma inches closer to him, leaning down and kissing his collarbone. He could go again if his body would let him, the adrenaline giving him more energy than he’s had in weeks, but it’s not going to last long.

“Was it really just that you were busy?” Emma asks. “It wasn’t – ”

Killian adjusts his arm under her shoulder and trails his fingers down her back while his other hand tries to smooth back some of her hair. “I should have made time for you. I wanted to. I will from now on. Love, I promise that it wasn’t because the annulment papers came in. I, well…”

“What?”

“I was happy when they came in. It felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders, but a part of me was also terrified that you’d have nothing to do with me now that we had no reason to still be talking.”

Emma’s lips fall open before snapping shut. “I felt the same way.”

“Yeah?”

She nods her head, looking at him with a small smile, before letting her head fall back against the pillow. Their noses are so close they’re almost touching.

The freckles on her cheeks are mesmerizing.

“If you haven’t worn me out, because I definitely plan on the two of us doing that again, I will go running with you in the morning.”

“What about training? Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Aye, but I think I’ll be able to survive. I’m a survivor, Swan. I also think I owe you a smoothie.”

“You owe me about ten smoothies.”

Killian chuckles and closes his eyes before opening them back up to the brilliant shade of green of Emma’s eyes. “I think I can handle that.”

“So, Jones,” she whispers, her own lips threatening to turn into a smile far brighter than the small one she’s been keeping since they started talking in the afterglow of it all, “I think we should go on a date.”

His brow arches. He wasn’t expecting that. He should have been, but they’re all sorts of messy right now. He’s not even exactly sure what he should be expecting when it comes to Emma.

He can’t wait to find out.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking you out?”

“You are so old-fashioned.”

“Now, darling, I believe I fucked you, married you, annulled that marriage, fucked you again, and then agreed to date you. In that order. What could possibly be old-fashioned about that?”

Emma chuckles and leans forward to kiss him again. He wants to get used to that. “Did you agree to me asking you out? I don’t remember hearing that.”

Her eyes roll. She’s exasperated by him, but it’s not like it was at the beginning. It’s not true annoyance. It’s something entirely different.

Better.

Definitely, definitely better.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Emma Swan.”

“Good.”

-/-

They get married three years later.

It’s pouring down rain, a July storm coming in and surprising everyone, and Killian can barely hear David officiating the ceremony over the sound of the water hitting the ground around him and flooding into the Charles river. They wanted to do it by the damn bench that’s paint was messed up from the man sitting on wet paint all those years ago, had planned on it for a few weeks now, only to show up today and find that the city had finally fixed the bench after three years of it being messed up.

All of the signs were there for them to cancel these plans. There’s no special meaning to today, simply a date they picked on the calendar that was close enough to the day they met and fit their schedules, and they could have changed it when they found out it was going to rain.

Emma didn’t want to.

He didn’t either.

Killian’s wearing his dress uniform, and Emma has on a short, emerald green dress that hugs her curves and is driving him mad every time he looks at her. They were already dressed when it started pouring, and they both pretty much said what the hell. Why not? That’s kind of been their motto through the whole thing.

They’re both wearing wellies.

As are all of their friends.

They look ridiculous. He knows that they do, but he wouldn’t have it any other way when it comes to the love of his life and her happiness.

Neither of them ever wanted to legitimately get married, not after everything, but it’s funny how things change when you find the right person who’s willing to wade deep into the waters of life with you.

It’s funny how things change when you meet a woman whose eyes are another kind of green.

-/-

tag list: @xemmaloveskillianx @therealstartraveller776 @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic

#another kind of green #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

Text

Hitched | Shawn Mendes

Summary: After a wild night in Vegas you and Shawn end up married according to the tabloids. Will these rumors change your dynamic and be the push the two of you need to finally admit your feelings for each other, or will it be the end of your relationship both professionally and personally? [personal assistant reader] [fake married] [accidentally married] [non au theme]

Word Count: 8.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Early morning sun blinds you through the windows of your hotel suite. Your head pounds, body feeling like it's been hit with a sack of bricks. Your mouth is dry like sandpaper as you reach for a bottle on the nightstand. There's a heavy weight across your stomach and you look down. An arm. A bulky thick arm with the tattoo of an orchid in a light bulb. Shawn.

You push back the blankets to reveal the sleeping giant. He is sprawled out beside you on his stomach, arm across your waist, face pressed into the pillows. This wasn't the first time the two of you ended up in bed together, and it wouldn't be the last. At least he went home with you last night. As soon as the tequila shots had come out, you started to worry. Shawn and tequila don't mix well and he gets a little crazy.

A pang of sickness washes over you and you need to get up. It's not like you to drink when Shawn drinks. It's sort of your job to keep him out of trouble and on task. But shit happens. At least he's with you, like you said. You did your job well enough. You push at his arm and instead of removing it, he curls it tighter around you, pressing on your stomach.

“Shawn, I have to get up. I feel sick.”

“Mmm.” He groans and rubs his face into his pillow. “No, stay with me.”

“Shawn. Now.”

“Stop talking.” He rolls over, toward you, and tugs you closer to him. “My head hurts.”

“You're hungover.”

“Probably.”

You run your hand over his hair and glitter falls out. You have no idea where that came from but it isn't what you're really focusing on. No. The ring on your finger is what catches your eye. It's Shawn's, his pinky ring, the rose gold one. Why were you wearing it on your wedding ring finger? Why were you wearing it at all? Oh no. A portion of the night comes flooding back to you. Brian had been joking with Shawn that since he lost his passport yesterday morning, he was illegal in the USA. Oh God Shawn no. You love Shawn, hell, you know him better than most at this point. It's hard not to fall in love with someone like him, but those feelings were counterproductive to your job and he could never know. Though you suppose he already does, the two of you couldn't deny looks and familiar touches. It was complicated.

“Shawn get up,” you push him off of you and he sits up quickly. “What happened last night?”

He holds his head and groans loudly. He'd had far more to drink than you did. “I don't remember.”

You put your hand out for him. “Did we get married?”

“What?!” Shawn grabs your hand and studies the ring on your finger. “No! Why would we do that?! I know we got smashed but fucking christ.”

“I don't know! Call Brian. Maybe he remembers?”

Shawn pats around under the pillows and produces his phone. “Fuck,” he turns the screen toward you and there's a bunch of missed calls and texts. You can't help but notice his background is the two of you backstage at the capital summertime ball last year. He picked you up on his shoulders to see the stage and Brian snapped a photo. He calls Andrew instead of Brian since the missed calls were all from him.

“Morning newlyweds,” Andrews voice crackles over the speakerphone between you and Shawn. “Hungover?”

“Andrew what happened last night?”

“You guys must have been seriously messed up. You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

You sigh. “Andrew what happened?”

“Well Brian convinced Shawn that because we can't find his passport, he had to marry a US citizen to stay in the country. Which is ridiculous, because I just had to go get a temp until we can get back to Toronto and get a new one. Anyway, you and Shawn ditched everyone and went to get hitched in the basement chapel of the hotel by some Elvis impersonator who was on site for a gimmick wedding being hosted last night.”

“It's probably not even legal then. We didn't sign anything, it's just a ceremony right?”

“No, not technically, he was a justice of the peace though. Registered and everything. Brian and Zubin were your witnesses.” Andrew sighs and you roll your eyes. “Luckily it was just you four idiots and no one but us knows about this.”

Shawn holds his head. “Okay well, it's fine then.”

“Perfect. Thank Andrew.” You click to hang up and stare at Shawn. “You're so dumb y'know that?”

“Oh shut up. You obviously agreed to go along with it, so you're pretty dumb too.”

You shove him and he shoves you back, pinning you to the bed. “Shawn I swear to God if you-”

He leans down and gets close to your face. His breath ghosts over your cheek and jawline. He's going to threaten to lick you. Somehow he found out that spit grosses you out; the wet feeling, the knowing it came from someone else's mouth, all of it just squicks you out. He found out and now every chance he gets he uses it against you when he doesn't get his way or wants something. He was a damn man child sometimes. “Take it back or I'll do it.”

“Never.”

“Last chance.”

You close your eyes and wait for the worst. You'll never admit defeat. He was dumb, the whole marriage thing had to be his idea. How he convinced you in your drunken state to marry him you will never know. Obviously your brain had decided to put feelings for Shawn over work, rational thinking and common sense last night, but it's still definitely his fault.

He opens his mouth and you can feel his breath hotter than ever. You struggle against his hold and then go still when his mouth connects with your cheek. It's not spit, it's not his tongue. It's his lips, warm and soft against your skin.

“What're you doing?”

“What?”

You peek one eye open and look down at him. “Aren't you going to lick me?”

“Nah. You're my wife now.” He grins and kisses your cheek again. “I guess I gotta be sweet on you.”

“Oh shut up! I'm not actually your wife!” You shove him as he releases your arms and falls over laughing. “Get dressed chuckles. We have to be at the airport soon.”

____________________

“So are you taking my last name then?” Shawn asks with a smirk from the seat beside you. “Because I think it suits you.”

“I'm not talking to you anymore.”

“You have to! You're my assistant and my best friend.” He slides his hand over yours on the arm rest between the two of you. “Please talk to me?”

You let his fingers curl around yours as you close your eyes. He always held your hand when the plane was taking off. It's just how it was. You needed something real to hold on to until you were in the air and he was always that something. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Just answer my question. Are you taking my last name?”

“Why does it matter? We're not actually married so who cares?”

“I care.”

You cut him and glare and he isn't even smiling like he was joking. “Why?”

“I just do. Hypothetically, would you take my name?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Shawn looks satisfied with himself. You have no idea why that mattered. It wasn't like you were actually married. Well you were officiated but, y'know, whatever.

____________________

All hell breaks loose when you and Shawn walk into the central concourse of the airport you've landed at. The screams are deafening and louder than you've ever heard before. Jake tries to keep a minimum distance as you and Shawn make your way to the front doors with Andrew and the rest of the crew in tow.

“What is going on?!” You yell and Shawn falls back to put his arm around you and lean down to hear you. “I said what's going on?”

“No clue. People must be just extra excited to see me today.”

“Shawn! Shawn! Is it true?! Have you been in a secret relationship with your assistant for years?!”

Shawn looks over to the well dressed woman who's running alongside the group. She's asking all sorts of questions about you and Shawn. Obviously a reporter.

“Keep going!” Andrew yells over the crowd and comes up close behind you. “Don't answer any questions! Me and Brian will take your bags, just go!”

Shawn passes his suitcase to Brian and you give yours to Andrew. Shawn's hand finds yours and it's sweaty as he pulls you closer to Jake. He's nervous, anxious as his eyes start darting around to what you can only assume to be over a hundred people in the concourse. The two of you were used to crowds, it came with the job, but this was a swarm.

Jake pulls the two of you into a security office with help from some of the local airport security personnel. One moment you're in deafening loudness and the next it's muffled silence. Your ears are ringing and you feel like you've just survived an apocalypse. Shawn's hand is gripping yours so tight his knuckles are white and he's shaking.

“Shawn, hey,” you say softly and he looks down at you.

“Pull the blinds please,” Jake instructs to an officer by the door. She turns and pulls the blinds on the two floor to ceiling windows looking out to the hoard.

You sit Shawn down in a rolling chair behind a desk covered in paperwork. “Hey, look at me bud.”

The two officers and Jake move to the farthest corner from the two of you and talk among each other about how to clear up the situation outside the door.

Shawn looks at you and you run your hand over his hair. “Sorry, I just got overwhelmed.”

“It's cool. You know you just have to tell me and we'll fix it.”

“That woman knew. She knew about us.”

Us. As if there was really something going on between the two of you.

“She doesn't know anything. People have speculated for years about us. She probably just saw us talking when we got through the gate.” You scratch his scalp gently as he leans his forehead against your stomach. “Relax, deep breaths. Wanna do a vocal warm up to let it out?”

“No, it's fine. I just want to get to the hotel as soon as possible.”

“Jake,” you look over and he looks at you. “What's the plan to get out of here?”

“Security is going to escort us out. They've got more people coming down here to help. Just a few minutes. I've let Andrew know we're alright.”

“Thank you.”

Shawn stands up and pulls you into a hug. He presses his nose into the top of your hair and sighs. “Sorry I keep making today so stressful for you.”

“No, Shawn, it's not your fault.” You rub up his back and down again. “Things happen. We'll be okay. We always are.”

_____________________

Turns out the news has broken and the world knows that you and Shawn allegedly got married. TMZ was first to announce so you're sure that the Elvis impersonator spilled his guts for a couple hundred dollars. That son of a bitch. As if Shawn wasn't already having a hell of a time with stress on tour, this had to happen.

You don't even want to go out of the hotel now. The comments on every social media platform are enough to make you want to peel your skin off. There's two types of people it seems. Ones that think you're amazing and ones that hate your guts. For the most part it's people hating you.

“We're going to get dinner, are you coming?” Shawn asks, poking his head into your room.

“I'm gonna stay in. I don't want to go out.”

“Is it because of the gossip?”

“Yeah. I'm tired of being called ugly, fat and worthless. Why give people more fodder to keep the fire burning?”

Shawn steps in and closes the door behind him. “Why are you reading that crap?”

“I can't avoid it. Everywhere I go it's all people are talking about.” You flip through your Twitter feed and hold it up for Shawn. “Oh this is my favorite, gold digging whore.”

Shawn stalks across the room and snatches the phone from your hand. He throws it into your suitcase and squats down in front of you. “They're jealous. Angry jealous people who have no idea who you are.” He takes your hands and kisses over your knuckles. “They have no idea how beautiful and smart and funny you are.”

“Shawn...you're just saying that.”

“I'm not.” He looks at you over your hands. “I'm honored to call you my wife, real or fake, it's an honor. Any man who marries you is lucky.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes and you look down, lip trembling.

“Let's stay in. We can rent a movie on the TV and order something to be delivered.”

“No, you go with the guys.” You pull one hand out of his and wipe your wet cheeks. “I'm fine.”

“I won't go.” He stands and crawls on to the bed, sitting behind you and dragging you between his legs. “I'd rather spend my night with you then watch Brian try to pick up the bartender for three hours straight.”

"Can we get Chinese?"

"Of course." Shawn pulls his phone out and scrolls through Google to find a local place to deliver. "You want your usual?"

"Yeah. Extra dumplings if they have them."

He brings the phone up to his ear and smiles. "Anything you want."

____________________

Two days later. Heading to the venue where Shawn is playing isn't usually a stressful thing. You've done it countless times. But you've never done it with everyone thinking you're his wife. The back of the transit van is silent, uncomfortably so. Shawn is on his phone, Andrew and Brian are staring out the windows and Connor is messing with something on his camera.

You hold your bag tight against your lap and sigh. Shawn opens his his legs and bumps your thigh. You look up and he's smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Can you hand me my notebook?”

“Yeah sure.” You dig around in your little black backpack and produce his tattered leather bound journal. It's his writing notebook and if anyone besides you ever had it he would probably explode. “Got an idea?”

“Yeah, just something that's stuck in my head.” He takes it and slides the little pen out from the side and starts writing. He looks so focused as he scribbles away, striking things out and looking annoyed. His brain never stopped.

“Hey.”

You look away from Shawn to Connor who is across from the two of you and has his camera up right. “Yeah? Need something?”

“No, nevermind.”

“We're here,” Andrew says as the van comes to a halt.

Shawn closes the notebook and hands it over. “Are you nervous?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah but I have you, so it'll be okay.” He grabs your hand and squeezes. “Everyone ready?”

Everyone mumbles in unison and Jake pulls open the side door to the sound of fans yelling beyond the barriers a few yards away. No questions. No photos. Just straight into the venue.

The second you're inside the venue there are coordinators ushering you to the question and answer area that's set up in a meeting room. Usually sound check would come first but you had arrived a little later than planned due to traffic and now everything was off schedule.

Shawn goes out and the fans in the q&a scream and greet him. You take a seat behind curtain that is put up as a backdrop in the front area where Shawn sits. You open up your laptop and start working on the checklist for the show tonight while also looking up local gyms for Shawn while he's in town.

Twenty minutes pass and you hear Shawn say your name. You pull out your headphones and listen to what he's saying, wondering what the question was. He just wants a bottle of water and you grab one off a cart nearby.

You don't think anything of it when you walk out in front of everyone to hand him his water. You've done it a hundred times. You don't realize that you've really messed up until the fans are awwing and suddenly asking questions over each other.

“Did you guys get married for real?”

“How long have you been together?”

“Are you really his assistant?”

Shawn sighs and you can see Jake who is off to the side next to you just shake his head. “I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it when I asked for water.”

“It's fine. Just act like everything is normal.” You grab his empty bottle and he pops open the top of the new one. “And don't answer any questions about me.”

“I promise I won't.”

You turn and walk away, giving a little wave to the fans as you go around the back again to take your place at your laptop on an amp box.

____________________

The next night you, Shawn and a couple of the guys go out to a bar near the hotel. It's a really upscale place, private too. It's nice being able to relax and just let loose the stress from the last few days and not have anyone recognize you for a few hours.

Drinks are flowing, music is playing, you are dancing with a couple people. It feels good. Someone's hands find your waist from behind and they pull you against their solid warm body. You stiffen up, not comfortable with the sudden contact.

“You smell really good.” Shawn murmurs against your hair. “Like really good.”

You relax, trusting him and no longer worrying about it being some stranger making a move. “I just washed my hair with my usual stuff.” You turn in his hold to face him and he drops his forehead against yours. His eyes are focused on you, a little glassy from alcohol and you wonder how many drinks he's had.

“You are so beautiful.” He smiles and closes his eyes. “You just...wow.”

“Shawn, you've had way too much.” You reach up and play with the curls at the back of his neck. You've had a few yourself. “I thought you weren't going to drink much because your next show is in three days.”

“I'll be fine.”

“It's not like you.”

“I just wanted to relax.” He leads you over to a lounge area with some couches and falls back on his ass, pulling you down on top of him.

You sit on his lap and he smiles at you like a cat who caught a canary. “What are you grinning about?”

“You.” He runs his hand up your back and you loop your arm around the back of his neck. “I wanna kiss you.” He leans up so he's face to face with you. “I want to kiss you all over.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss my wife.” He grins.

You roll your eyes. “I'm not your wife doofus.”

He leans in closer and bumps his nose with yours, breath ghosting over your lips. You're too drunk to handle this right now. Everything in you wants him and it's so hard to say no. You've kissed before but it wasn't like this, well, it was. You were drunk then too but it wasn't in public and with speculation of being married hanging in the air.

“This is a bad idea,” you whisper, eyes going to his pink lips and he shakes his head slightly. “Yes it is.”

“Stop talking.” He leans in and kisses you, hands going to your hair as he licks into your mouth. You take a deep breath and re-position yourself so you're straddling his thighs. He drops one hand to your waist and you feel like you just can't get enough. You can't seem to break away from him as he kisses you better than anyone you've ever been with. You know the two of you will end up going back to the hotel together, there was absolutely no doubt about that at this point. It's just a matter of how far this was going to go.

____________________

The next morning you wake up and it's like deja vu. Shawn's arm is across your stomach and your head hurts. Only this time you remember the night before. You remember walking with Shawn back to the hotel and making out in the elevator. Fumbling with his key card to get his room open. And then watching him literally collapse on the bed and pass out. You knew he'd had way too much.

“Morning,” you says softly, running your hand through his hair. He rubs his face into his pillow and groans at the morning light. “Hungover?”

“Very. My head is throbbing.”

“Let me help.” You sit up and guide him to lay his head on a pillow you pull over onto your lap. You massage your fingers into his temples and he groans softly.

“You're the best.”

“Mmhmm.” You massage over his eyes and cheeks and he just let's his jaw go slack. He's so soft like this, trusting in you completely. The last few days have been a wild ride and gone farther than your professional relationship with him should go. It's like since finding out you got hitched by the Elvis impersonator, all inhibitions were gone. The line between coworker and relationship was getting blurrier by the second and you have to redraw it before it is too late.

“You're a really good kisser.” Shawn mumbles, smiling to himself.

“So you remember some of last night?”

“Mmm yeah.” He opens his eyes and you stop rubbing his temples. “You can't deny that there's something more between us.”

“I can't, but there shouldn't be.” You return to rubbing and go down around the back of his neck eliciting a soft moan from him. “I'm your assistant first and foremost. We need to remember that.”

“Yeah.” He says softly, closing his eyes again. You know he isn't going to cave that easily. It's not like him to drop a subject just like that but you know he doesn't want to argue or anything with his head killing him. And that's just fine.

____________________

Shawn wraps his arms around you from behind and walks with his head on your shoulder. "What're you going to get?"

"I don't know, we came for you to get stuff."

"Yeah, but...I know you want something."

The two of you round the corner to the health care isle in the little 24 hour convenience store. The two of you had come down for snacks after Shawn said he needed some jerky and a Snickers. The funny thing is that those two things were your usual period cravings, and you happen to be on your period.

"Shawn, did you want to come here because of me?"

"What do you mean?" He pulls away and grabs a box of Tylenol off the shelf to toss into the bag you're carrying.

"Come on. Snickers and jerky? That's my craving snack."

Shawn grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. "Am I that obvious?"

You roll your eyes. "You're transparent."

He walks over and puts his arm around your shoulders. "I just wanted to help. I saw you were having bad cramps earlier during rehearsal."

"Is that why you brought me tea from the catering cart?"

"Yeah."

You lean your head on his chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He kisses your head. "Lets get those snacks and head back."

____________________

“You're still wearing the ring,” Shawn says, pointing to your hand curled around the clipboard you're holding. The second show this week is about to start and he's getting his in ears put in.

“So?”

“So? Why didn't you take it off? It's been like five days.”

You shrug and touch the little rose gold band. “It's pretty. I guess I didn't notice.” You point at his hand and he has one of his gold bands around his ring finger still too. “What's your excuse?”

Shawn shrugs. “I guess I didn't notice.”

You narrow your eyes at him and he grins. “Maybe you want to be married to me.”

“Maybe you do too.”

“In your dreams.”

“I've had a lot of dreams come true y'know.” Shawn laughs and goes to the side stage to get ready to go on. You follow him over and touch his arm gently. “Hmm?”

“I forgot to tell you to have a good show.”

He leans over and kisses your cheek, making your heart race. “Always do.”

“Pinkies for luck?”

Shawn hooks his pinky with yours and the rings click together, making him grin. You pull away and run your hand over his hair to fluff it up as the band starts playing his intro. He keeps smiling at you and walks out on to stage, bringing his mic up to greet everyone in the arena. You twist the ring around on your finger and it sends an ache through your chest. Why hadn't you taken it off?

____________________

The show is going great and you are beaming at him the whole time. He keeps doing this thing where he looks over at you and you try to keep out of view so people don't know what he's looking at. Connor asks if you'll follow him during Bad Reputation because he doesn't want to hit anything while he watches the camera screen. You've done it several times and you know all you have to do is literally walk behind him and tell him if he's going to hit an amp or something.

Zubin and Shawn are going to town on the guitar when it happens. You're following Connor but he's walking too quick, your eyes are on Shawn as he does a little grabby hand wave at you and you trip on a set of cables sticking out off the light box at the base of the stage. You go sprawling, scraping your knees on the hard concrete floor of the arena.

“Fucking shit!” you yell as you turn over and dust yourself off. Your jeans are torn in the knees and there's blood starting to stain on the left one.

Suddenly Shawn is by your side, guitar on his back as he kneels down beside you. “Are you okay? I saw you go down behind Connor.”

“What're you doing!? Get back up there!”

“It's fine Zubin is doing his thing.” Shawn puts an arm behind your back and the other under knees, lifting you up bridal style. “Ah shit your knee is bleeding.”

“Put me down. I'm fine.”

“No you're not! Look at your knee!”

You glance down and yeah your jeans were pretty much destroyed by the big bloody patch. It was starting to ache too, a dull throb right over your knee cap. “You're really not helping with the rumors right now y'know.”

“I really don't care.” Shawn places you gently on an equipment box backstage as Jake and one of the stage hands come over with a first aid kit.

“I'll be fine. Go back out there.” He starts to protest and you grab his face and force him to look at you. “Leave me and go do the show.”

Shawn leans in and kisses your lips quickly before turning and running back out on stage. Your heart stops and you are left in a stunned state, just gawking off at the stage. Did he really just kiss you? What the hell? He...you weren't...fuck.

“Hey, hello!” The stage hand, Nick, waves his hand in your face. “I can't clean it with your jeans on. Can we go to the catering room or something and have you take them off?”

“Yeah....yeah sure.” You bring your focus back to your knee and as you try to stand up on it, you wobble. Nick supports you as you head for the inner concourse and Jake stays behind.

“I'll tell him where you are when he gets done, don't worry,” Jake says with a smile. You know he seen the kiss, hell, anyone in the vicinity saw it. Shawn was not making this easy.

As soon as the show ends Shawn is in the catering room with you. He's pretty sweaty when he comes in but you don't really care because he's got eyes for no one but you. He kneels down beside you and cradles your knee in his big hands, fingers ghosting over the gauze wrapped skin.

“You had to cut your jeans?” He asks, sliding his hand over your thigh where your jeans are cut off just over the wound.

“Yeah. I couldn't get my jeans off and they were already ruined.”

“Let me carry you to the car.”

“Shawn I can walk. It's not that bad now.”

He gives you a hard look. “You're hurt.”

“It's just a scraped knee.”

“Please, let me carry you. You're my w- it's my fault. If you hadn't been watching me wave at you, you wouldn't have tripped.”

You sigh, defeated. “I'm not going to change your mind am I?”

“Nope.” Shawn gets up and picks you up bridal style again, holding you close to his chest. You can smell his shampoo from his damp hair, curls falling in his face. “Let's go, I'll have one of the guys bring my stuff.”

“I need my bag.”

Shawn leans down and you grab your backpack off the couch you were sitting on. With that he carries you alongside Jake as he heads for the cars out back.

The second you get to the doors you see a bunch of fans waiting around to hopefully get a picture with Shawn beyond the security fence. The fans start screaming as soon as he walks out in the open carrying you toward the car. They’re waving and calling out both of your names as camera flashes go off.

“You can go ahead and take pictures.” You say to Shawn and he shakes his head. “Seriously, just drop me off in the car. I'll wait.”

“No. I want to go back to the hotel and shower and relax with you. Besides they've got their pictures.” He grins.

“Shawn.” You touch his cheek and he leans into your hand. “Please. I know you want to go say hi.”

“I do, but I really want to relax too.” Jake opens the door for Shawn and he lowers you to your feet and helps you into the car. “And relaxing comes first today.”

____________________

“Hey, are you feeling up to going out?”

You raise your eyebrows and he smiles sheepishly, knowing that you're not supposed to be seen together alone until the whole marriage thing blows over, but you're still his friend and assistant and honestly that concept of hiding it had gone out the window days ago. “Like...where?”

“Ed's in town. He texted me and asked if I want to hang out and see the show tonight.”

“Sure. Anyone else going?”

“I think Brian is gonna go.”

“What time?”

“Around seven.”

“I'll see you then.”

The concert is loud as hell, just like Shawn's are. You're stood in a private section with a few other people from Ed's crew and it's just you and Shawn. Brian didn't ever show up, and honestly you think Shawn didn't actually invite him.

Nearly forty minutes pass and Ed ends castle on the hill and starts up the chords to Perfect, his final song on the set list. Shawn wraps his arms around you from behind and you look up at him.

“I found a love, for me...” Shawn sings along softly with Ed.

“You planned this didn't you?”

“Planned what?”

“Being here together and without Brian. This is a date, isn't it?”

Shawn rolls his eyes. “A date? Really? We're just seeing Ed.”

“A concert can be a date y'know.”

“Shh.” Shawn lays his chin on your head and starts humming along to the song. The arena is dark and everyone has their phones out, swaying along to the song. It's beautiful. “Dancing in the dark, with you between my arms.” He sings softly against your head and you hold onto his arms now wrapped around your shoulders.

You take his hand and he turns you around, stepping back and grinning at you. He keeps singing as he slow dances with you, swinging you out and bringing you close in time with the music. “You're ridiculous,” you laugh and he just holds you against him.

“You love it,” he says quietly, turning you around once more and pulls you back against his chest. “And you look perfect...tonight.”

The song comes to an end and you hold Shawn's hands in yours. He kisses the side of your head and you're absolutely gone for him. He's knows it. You know it. The whole damn world probably knows it by now. ____________________

“Where's my notebook?”

“In the suitcase.” You point to his bulky black bag. “Outer pocket.”

Shawn digs into the bag and brings it out, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and writing furiously. You learned ages ago not to bother asking what was in that little journal. You know usually it's lyrics or little bits or inspiration. You never read it, no matter how many times he has you carry it in your bag, you never ever open that book.

“We've got to get going Shawn. Can you write in the car?”

“No.”

You drag his bag off the bed and over to the door. Yours is already there waiting, you had brought it over to save you from grabbing it later after helping Shawn get everything together.

“The plane won't wait.”

Shawn looks up and rolls his eyes. “Just a moment.”

“Alright.” You lean against the door and close your eyes. You're exhausted, the concert with Ed had ended up going until around nine and then visiting lasted until well after midnight. Every time Shawn and Ed got together it was like a recording session. The two were definitely of the same bunch. Now you had a six hour flight to get on back to Toronto.

“I’m ready.” Shawn whispers in your ear and your eyes fly open and you jump, making him laugh. “Let's go home.”

You swat at his chest and he grabs his bag handle. “You're such a turd.”

“I just like teasing you. Come on.”

The two of you head down to the lobby to meet Andrew and Brian and the rest of the crew. “So, what're you writing in that book?”

“Curious?”

“Well yeah, that's why I'm asking. I know usually you don't tell anyone. You've just seemed very engrossed in it lately.”

“I've been writing lyrics. I want to meet up with Teddy and see if we can't get something together. I've just...got this feeling and I want to put it into words.”

You round the corner to the lobby and Andrew looks up from his phone. “About time you two.”

“Leave the love birds alone, don't you know, they're newlyweds.” Brian teases, dragging his suitcase around behind the two of you toward the doors.

“Fuck off Brian!” Shawn yells and you elbow him for yelling in the lobby.

The rest of the trip home goes smoothly, you sleep on the plane with Shawn leaning against you and it's possibly the best sleep you've had in a few days. Landing back in Toronto is a bit annoying, as fans have come to meet you and Shawn at the airport like usual. Only now they're rowdier than ever due to the news about your alleged marriage.

"Don't pay attention to any of it." Shawn says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and staring down at your phone. You've just arrived at his apartment and you'll be leaving tomorrow to go to your own place in New York. "We'll just lay low and then in a few weeks it'll all be over."

"Yeah I guess. How exactly do we convince fans we aren't hitched?"

"Probably should take off the rings."

You pocket your phone and hold your hand out in front of you. Honestly you've grown accustomed to the little ring on your finger. It fits so comfortably.

“Maybe being married isn't such a bad thing.”

You look up from your hand to where Shawn is now across the bedroom lying on the bed on his stomach. “What?”

“I mean, aren't we already kind of married?”

“No?”

“Think about it. You know more about me than anyone. You can read me like an open book. We're always together, I trust you more than anyone and we definitely have chemistry. We have such a connection, it's insane. Maybe it's not such a bad idea.”

You close your eyes and sigh softly. “You cannot be serious. We can't be married. We just can't. I'm your assistant, not your wife.”

“Technically you're both right now.”

“Shawn. It wasn't a legal binding ceremony.”

He gets up and walks over to you, taking your hands in his. “Come on. You'd get so many benefits as my wife. You could come to awards shows with me, walk red carpets, be on my health care plan. I can also avoid the “when are you going to have a girlfriend?” conversations. I really don't see any downsides.”

“Really? No downsides? What about dating? What about falling in love and wanting to marry someone for real? I can do pretty much all that other stuff as your assistant if you want me to. None of it has to do with me being your wife or not. And why don't you have a girlfriend? You're like the most eligible bachelor in history. Rich, gorgeous, young and talented. What's the deal?”

“You know why I don't. Besides I don't want to marry someone else.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Why the hell would you want to marry me in the first place? And on that note, no, I don't know why you don't have a girlfriend, besides being on tour and stuff.”

“You really don't get it do you?”

“For the love of God, why can't you stop talking in riddles for like five minutes?”

“It’s because I'm in love with you.”

Your heart stops. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. He isn't allowed to. No. He can't. You didn't want to hear those actual words, it made it all too real.

“Shawn, I think you really need to think about that. You can't just say that lightly.”

“I have thought about it.” He walks you over to the couch just past the doorway into the living room. “It's all I think about all the time. I've wanted to tell you for the last three years but how do you tell your assistant that sort of thing? And I wanted to be sure you felt the same, or you at least had an interest in me. You're hard to read though. I could never figure out what you were thinking until this last year, hell, the last few weeks when I realized you've been holding back.”

“Shawn... I-I don't know.”

He takes your hand and threads his fingers between yours. “Don't hold back. Do you want to be with me?”

“I mean, yeah, of course. More than anything Shawn, but...we can't.”

“We can. We absolutely can.”

"But my job and the fans...it's a lot to handle."

"And yet we've been doing it for the last week basically."

“I...I should go.” You pull your hand away and stand. You grab your bag and head for the door. There isn't really anywhere to go besides your place. The second you get out the front doors you call a cab. It wasn't as if you didn't feel the same way about him, because you did. It's just...it would never work. If you mixed your job with your relationship it could end badly. That's what you've been telling yourself anyway. There's a line, a very clear line, and you can't bring yourself to cross it...though you've definitely been bending over it a bit. Well, maybe a lot.

____________________

The sun is just starting to set as you take your seat on a plane flying to New York. You're alone, carry-on bag in the compartment over your seat. You called and talked to Andrew about what happened. He was fine with it, in fact he'd rather Shawn be with you then deal with bringing a whole new person into the picture, but you still don't think it's for the best. Four years, four long amazing years and just like that you find yourself out of a job and heading back to your hometown.

You didn't say goodbye to Shawn. You couldn't. The next time you see him will be...well, no, you don't know when that might be. You lean your head back and fight the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. You want to stay, you do, but you can't hurt Shawn if things go bad or just don't work out. The stress and tension that would put on your professional relationship would be too much. You won't break his heart, you just won't.

You put on your headphones, lean your head back and put on a sleep mask. If you just tuned it out you would be fine. Minutes pass and you feel the plane start to move, taxiing to the runway for take off. You feel your nerves getting the best of you, hand curled around the end of the arm rest. You never flew alone, you always flew with Shawn.

A hand covers yours and you jump, jerking away. You pull your sleep mask off to see who the hell thought it was okay to touch you. Your heart drops when you see Shawn in the seat beside you.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks, irritation evident in his voice.

“I'm going home.”

“You're running away.”

“I'm not. It's for the best.”

“The best for who?.”

You look away and clench your jaw. “You don't get it Shawn.”

He reaches over and turns your head to look at him. “No, you don't get it. You are running away because you're scared. You're scared to admit that we have something special because you're afraid it won't work out. But let me tell you what, you've seen me at my worst and my best and I've seen you in both lights as well. I think you know just as well as I do that we're meant to be together.”

“But what if it doesn't work out?”

“And what if it does? You can't try and take the safe route every time. There is nothing about our relationship that says it won't work. Please, do you know how hard it was to be told that you quit all of a sudden? That after spending a good part of four years together, you were just going to walk out of my life? Do you know how bad that hurt?”

“I just thought it'd be easier. I didn't want to hurt you.”

Shawn pushes up the arm rest and scoots closer to you. “Nothing is going to be easy. It never is.” He grabs your hand and threads his fingers between yours. “Please don't leave. You're my best friend. You don't want to hurt me but this, leaving, is going to kill me.”

“How'd you find me?"

"You always fly Delta when you go home. I just checked for a flight to New York and got a ticket. It doesn't matter."

You sigh and lean your head on his shoulder. "You really want to do this?"

"Yes. And we don't have to be married, we can just date. I just want you in my life, please."

"I want you in mine too." You hold his face and he tilts your head up to kiss you gently. "I suppose we're just a little backwards on all this, getting married and then dating."

"I guess this is where we start then."

You smile and he kisses you again, and again and again.

_____________________

Three months later

"Babe, did you get the email from Teddy about the song?" Shawn asks as he pulls on a suit jacket.

You glance over at his stylist who's holding up two shirts to the jacket. Shawn is standing there with his arms out like a dork while she works her magic. "I haven't gotten any emails from her. I have one from Connor though?"

"What's Connor sent? It must be a big file if he can't text it."

"Let me open it." You click the link and it opens a video in the media player on your laptop. The playback opens with you sitting on Shawn's shoulders at capital summertime ball, the moment Shawn had on his lock screen photo. From there it cuts to you and Shawn backstage playing slaps before a show and him squealing every time you faked him out. Then it's the two of you sharing a strawberry shake from McDonald's. You remember that day, he said he didn't want anything and ended up stealing half of your order.

"What is it?" Shawn asks, sliding off the suit jacket and walking over to lean on the back of the couch.

On the screen you and Shawn pose like goofballs in his new merch for the tour. The two of you sleeping on a couch backstage at some event. Shawn putting his jacket over your shoulders during a late night video shoot. Then there is recently, the two of you in the back of the car when he asked for his notebook. You can see that Shawn is stealing glances as he writes, something you hadn't noticed at the time. There's footage of Shawn at the concert jumping off stage to pick you up after you tripped. And finally, the last little bit is when the two of you were boarding the plane home and you grab Shawn's hand as you walk through the boarding tunnel.

"Wow..." You laugh softly, covering your mouth. "We're so transparent."

"Connor...he really did that." Shawn leans over and kisses your cheek. "I guess everyone knew we were together before we did."

"Yeah. Obviously."

"I'm going to have Teddy send you a copy of the new song." He turns back to his stylist and she holds out his shirt she's chosen. "I want you to listen to it tonight and tell me what you think."

"This is the song you've been keeping top secret for the last month?"

He grins sheepishly. "Yes, I promise it's worth it."

"Your songs are always worth it. I'm pretty sure you've never written a bad song."

"You're so sweet."

"Only to you."

_____________________

Shawn goes out to sit at some awards show and you stay behind in the green room. You've had enough with award shows in the last few years. They're usually too loud and full of cringey dialogue. You put in your head phones and press play on the file that Teddy sent to you. She didn't send any explanation other than a little winking smiley face and honestly you're suspicious. Shawn has never kept a song from you before.

"Put my heart on the line so many times, but when I'm with you I know I'll be fine. I'm falling, falling in love with you. Can't stop this feeling I know it's true."

Your eyes go wide as you realize this song is definitely about you. "Oh my God. Shawn..." You laugh to yourself as you begin to tear up. It's catchy and touching and...how dare he.

You finish the song and go to find him out in the crowded ballroom. You make your way through the room full of people and find his spot empty near the front next to Ed and his wife.

"Where is Shawn?" You ask Ed and he points toward the doors you came through saying he got up a few minutes ago.

You turn and double back to see if he's in the bathroom but there is absolutely no one in the halls.

"Honey, what're you doing?" Shawn laughs, and you turn to see him walking out of the green room. "I thought you wanted to chill in the back, I came to see how you were doing."

You walk up to him and he puts his arms around you. "You wrote a song about me."

"Yes I did."

"Everyone is going to know."

Shawn grins and runs his hand up your back. "Yes they will."

"A song!"

"Yes. You inspire me, I couldn't not write something about how I've felt for ages. Teddy helped me make it into something amazing. I'm really excited to release it."

You lay your hand on his cheek and he leans into it. "You're lucky I love you."

He kisses you softly and smiles. "What're you doing later?"

"Going to the after party with you?"

"Yeah, well I heard there's a wedding going on here tomorrow. Maybe the officiator will be around."

"Shawn."

"Maybe I should make you a legal Canadian citizen this time around." He grins and you narrow your eyes at him. "What do you think?"

"I think you're soft."

He slides his hand into yours and brings it up to kiss your joined hands. "It's been almost three and a half months and you haven't taken off my ring."

You flush and look away. "Yeah well...it's nice."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay, yeah...I want to be more than your girlfriend." You smile and look up at him. "I've wanted it for ages, but isn't it a little fast?"

"I don't think building up to this for three years is fast."

"You're right...I've just been thinking about it as the last few months but it has been years hasn't it?" You chuckle and shake your head. "Are you proposing to me then?"

"Yes." He drops down on one knee and reaches into his jacket pocket. "Will you be my wife, my assistant and my best friend?"

"You...have a ring on you?"

"Yeah I...I got it a while back." He looks at the ring and up at you. "I've just been carrying it around and waiting for the right moment to give it to you."

"You're such a sap."

"Yeah but, you already knew that. So, tell me, will you be my everything?"

You slide off Shawn's ring and pick up the ring from its box and slide it over your ring finger. "Yes. Yes I will."

Shawn stands and cups your face, kissing you softly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The end.

__________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please reblog if you read and if you enjoyed it.

Shout out to @shawnm521 for help and inspiration with this one, you are seriously the ultimate muse and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Please let me know what you think, what your favorite parts are and more via ask, reblog, reply or message. Thank you again!

-A

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nokomiss · 4 years ago

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Happy 4th! I would love something with Dick and Tim having fun patrolling or working on a case together, maybe with a moment where they have to pull off a little acting for undercover/incognito reasons. Dick/Tim is my favorite but a brotherly dynamic would be great too if you are feeling that instead! Thanks for being open to prompts!

So the morning started out… weird. And by weird, that meant Tim was startled awake by Dick Grayson jumping on his bed while belting out an off-key rendition of “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“Go away,” Tim tried, shoving his face deeper under the pillow and pulling his legs up into the fetal position, attempting to keep from getting bounced on.

Dick ignored him. “Rise and shine, time to fight crime!”

“Crime doesn’t happen at--” Tim blearily poked at his phone, “Eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Crime is always afoot, Timmers,” Dick replied. He hopped off the bed and poked Tim in the side. “Come on. We’ve got that thing you said you’d do with me. You and me! Incognito! It’s gonna be great.”

Tim had absolutely no memory of whatever mission Dick was claiming that he’d agreed to. “When, exactly, did I agree to this?”

“Uh, four weeks ago,” Dick said. “When we were patrolling the East End. Remember? The night we rescued those puppies?”

Tim definitely remembered the puppies, they’d been adorable. And Dick had said something about---

He opened his eyes, and actually looked at Dick for the first time. He was wearing a spangled, fringed jumpsuit that wasn’t the infamous early Nightwing costume. It was white, with bell-bottoms and a plunging neckline, with a rhinestone-studded belt. His hair was in a pompadour. And he struck a pose, one hip out, head bowed, arm in the air.

Dangling from the arm in the air was another white sequined jumpsuit, this one featuring a cape with a bejeweled eagle on the back.

“No,” Tim said, horror-struck, as he remembered with sudden clarity Dick mentioning a tip he’d gotten about a shipment of drugs being smuggled through at an upcoming Elvis convention, and Tim laughingly saying that he’d only go if there were costumes.

“Yes,” Dick said. “We pinky-swore, Tim, you can’t back out now.”

It was true; they had. Tim sighed and got out of bed, taking the jumpsuit from Dick. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“This is easily the best undercover gig I’ve ever had,” Dick confirmed. “Shake a leg, we don’t want to be late!”

Tim dressed quickly. The jumpsuit didn’t feel as weird as it ought, given what he wore out every night, and he kind of enjoyed the short cape. Dick produced some shiny satin scarves to complete their ensembles -- blue for himself, red for Tim, which made him smile, and even big gold sunglasses. After his hair had been fixed, he had to admit they both made pretty good Elvises; he doubted anyone would identify them as members of the Wayne family, at the very least.

On the ride to the convention hall -- a mid-sized one, Tim noticed, with minimal advertising, even though, as far as he knew, Elvis impersonation didn’t trigger any of Gotham’s major rogues -- Dick updated him on the case. He’d done a decent amount of footwork on it already. There was supposed to be a major shipment of newly produced narcotics coming in through the con somehow. The only solid name he had was Geezer, and Dick was unsure if that was a description or a name.

“So we’re going to stalk every geriatric Elvis we can find?” Tim said.

“Stalk is such a negative word,” Dick said. He looked unfairly good as Elvis, and Tim was mildly concerned that they were going to draw unnecessary attention to themselves. Tim himself at least knew he wouldn’t; the jumpsuit he was wearing was too big, and made his lean frame look scrawny instead. It was the trick he’d used in high school to avoid looking too fit, but Dick had not chosen to go that route himself.

Tim planned on making fun of him for that.

Arriving at the convention center was a treat, as he and Dick fit in perfectly. Almost everyone in attendance was wearing Elvis costumes, the majority of which were white rhinestone-crusted ones similar to the ones they were wearing, with a few black leather outfits or gold suits mixed in for fun.

They spent two solid hours moving through the crowds, listening to snippets of conversation and looking for suspicious body language. They focused on the convention hall with its dozens of booths filled to the brim with Elvis merch. They were the likeliest spot for surreptitious drug deals, though Dick’s information hinted at a much larger operation than just two-bit dealers.

In actuality most of the time was actually spent trying on ridiculous hats, posing with various other Elvises, at one point joining in on a giant karaoke flash mob to Jailhouse Rock despite not knowing the choreography (Dick hissed, “Just shake your pelvis, it’ll be fine” and lo and behold for once that advice was spot on) and in general having a grand time.

It was, actually, such a grand time that Tim started to become suspicious that this wasn’t actually a drug bust but actually just an outing to an Elvis convention.

“So why didn’t you bring the brat instead?” he asked as they got fried peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches. Now that he was thinking about the day critically, he was doubting everything. This was exactly the sort of dumb adventure that Dick would normally love to drag Damian to, under the guise of exposing him to quote-unquote culture.

Dick cast his eyes around and said, “I love Dami, don’t get me wrong, but some things are sacred.”

“Oh,” Tim said, “you didn’t want him to harsh your vibe by refusing to wear a jumpsuit.”

“Exactly,” Dick said, nodding. Several hours in and Tim still wanted to laugh when he really focused on what Dick looked like, especially since he’d truly taken to the role and was doing a lip snarl to punctuate nearly every sentence.

“But Jason would have eaten this up,” Tim pointed out. It was exactly the sort of over-the-top nonsense that Jason excelled at, despite denying the fact vehemently. “Or Cass. She would have been an incredible Elvis. She would have crushed Jailhouse Rock.”

“You wanna make this a family outing next time?” Dick’s whole face lit up. “Awww, baby bro!”

“Shut up,” Tim muttered. “There’s totally not a next time.”

“Crime never sleeps, Timmy, and look at how many shady individuals are here.” Dick pointed to a toddler taking a few wobbly steps then tripping over its bellbottoms. “I mean, by next year, there’s a crime lord in the making.”

“Not what I said!” Tim said, laughing. “I just wondered, you know, why me, out of everyone.”

Just like that, the laughter dropped from Dick’s eyes and he straightened up. For one brief second Tim could see how he managed to be a convincing Batman, and then Dick said, “Tim, you’re important to me, you know that, right? I knew this was going to actually be a fun mission for once, and I miss having fun with you.”

Oh. Tim knew logically that they hadn’t spent as much time together recently as they used to, especially as they used to back when he was Robin, but he hadn’t thought that Dick missed it as much as he did.

“I’m glad,” he said, and didn’t duck away at all when Dick wrapped him up in a bear hug, then continued to lead the way with an arm draped over his shoulder.

“There’s a panel starting soon about theories on Elvis’s current whereabouts, I bet there’ll be plenty of geezers there.” Dick led the way to a room off the main convention floor.

Sure enough, given how dated the Elvis-is-alive theory was, most of the audience and the entire panel were decidedly geriatric. The panelists presented theories that were in depth and crazy enough that Tim almost wanted to look into their veracity, even though he knew that if Elvis had truly not died, some superhero would have surely come across him by now and he would have heard about it.

The audience was of far more interest. Several of the Elvises would get up, whisper to another, then disappear behind a curtain for a few minutes. Tim elbowed Dick when he noticed, and Dick nodded. They snuck around to the curtain, and peeked behind it.

Another Elvis, this time in statue form.

Tim shrugged, unsure as to why people were sneaking in to see a statue of Elvis when there were easily a dozen other animatronic ones at various points on the convention floor. They approached slowly, but the statue was just that: a statue.

“Weird,” Tim said.

Dick shrugged and looked at it closely. “Pretty good likeness.” He poked it in the chest, randomly poking at various rhinestones, and there was a faint whirring sound from within the statue, and the rhinestone belt popped open like a quarter candy machine and dropped two pills onto the floor.

They stood for a moment, blinking at the revelation that they’d found a secret narcotic dispensing machine disguised as an Elvis statue.

“Huh,” Tim said, “I’m gonna be honest with you here, I didn’t actually think this was a real mission.”

“I mean,” Dick said, “I can see why it would be outlandish. Guess we wait here and kick the ass of whoever comes to try to collect money from us?”

“What if it’s the old Elvises?” Tim said. “Is it morally okay to kick geriatric ass?”

“We can gently kick their ass, I guess?” Dick said. “Real delicate-like.”

It was a truly embarrassing moment to be a vigilante. The narcotic ring was masterminded by three guys in their eighties who probably had dealt to the King himself, and Dick and Tim had to very delicately immobilize their scooters and zip-tie them before alerting the police. They waited in the little anteroom making sure no one else stumbled across the drugs or dealers until they heard the approach of officers, then slipped out into the crowd just as the dance-off began.

Dick of course insisted they join in before leaving, and Tim had to admit he was glad; it was a sight to see.

#my fic #dcu fic #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #I wrote this with a brotherly relationship in mind #and it's totally gen #but tried to make it a little ambiguous since you ship them #hope you enjoy #jes-cher

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