#the week is almost over and then I’ll move on to my other fandoms

[taymartiart]

Day 4: The Court of Dreams

@officialrhysandweek

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[bad268]

Uh hiii, I was wondering if you could do a Colby x pregnant reader or part 2 of the one you already did, where a ghost starts to get physical with yn and Colby gets worried

If not that's ok too, no rush :)

Frank Told Us Pt. 2 (Colby Brock X Pregnant! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co

Requested: Clearly (I LOVE THIS MATE)

Warnings: Doesnt explicitly say it but implies possible miscarriage

POV: Third Person (She/her)

W.C. 1716

Summary: Someone's unhappy, and Colby finds out exactly what he needs to protect Y/n from.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 1

~~(^Pinterest)

“I’m gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah, Frank just told us.”

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Y/n laughed as she and Kat walked back into the living room where the rest of their friends were standing. She walked up to Colby before pulling him aside. He already knew what was coming, so he leaned against the wall and pulled her against him by her waist. “We need to set some ground rules. We’re already here, so we’re not leaving before the week is up.”

“But what if-” Colby tried to interject.

“I said we’re not leaving, Cole,” She snapped, putting her hand over his mouth. “I am still capable of doing the investigation for the week, so we are not leaving just because you know I’m pregnant now. Secondly, which I don’t think you will object to, but I’m not doing solo investigations. I wasn’t going to anyway, but now, I don’t need to make up an excuse for why.”

“Yeah, that one’s valid,” Colby admitted with a light laugh as he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. “I’m not letting you out of my sight now.”

“You’re going to have to when you and Sam do the solo investigations because I can guarantee that Kat isn’t going to do them,” She laughed with him as she leaned into his body and moved her arms to rest against his shoulder. She played with the hairs at the nape of his neck as she leaned in to kiss him. She pulled away after a moment, causing Colby to chase her lips to keep kissing her. She chuckled lightly as she leaned away. “As much as I would love to stay here in your arms, I think it’s time we head back.”

“Can we just wait a second?” He chuckled as he let out a breath, hiding his face in her shoulder as an arm tightened around her waist while the other moved to rest against her stomach. “Maybe I just wanna hug my girlfriend for a minute after finding out she’s pregnant. Let me have this.”

~

Most of the week went smoothly. There were obviously times that scared the group, and they all had to take breaks, but honestly, for the conjuring house, they were all expecting worse. They got some good evidence, and they had very interesting conversations. Unfortunately, Frank did not come through much, but the group was able to talk with other relatives and spirits of the house.

Currently, it was day four of seven. Sam, Colby, and Y/n were all sitting in the attic, recuperating while waiting for the next special guests to arrive. Kat had to head home, but she agreed to pick up and drop off some food. Kat had texted Y/n a few minutes prior, letting her know that she was almost there, so when Y/n heard knocking coming from downstairs, she assumed it was Kat.

“Kat’s brought the food!” Y/n cheered as she jumped off the bed she was sitting on with Colby. Then, she turned to Colby and joked, “I’ll race you.”

“You’re on,” Colby smirked as he took off down the stairs with Y/n trailing just behind him. Ironically, Sam started recording on his phone, mainly just wanting to have proof of who beat who. Sam adjusted to get the perfect view of his two friends running down the stairs as they chased each other. 

All of a sudden, Y/n felt a presence behind her, thinking it was Sam. That is until she felt a hand push her on her back, followed by heat. She stumbled down the last couple of steps. She immediately shrieked and grabbed onto Colby’s shoulders as she lost her footing. This almost caused Colby to lose his own footing if he was not so used to her randomly running up behind him and jumping onto his back.

“Did you trip?” He chuckled at first as he grabbed her hands to hold her securely against his back and walked down the last couple of steps. Then, with a smile on his face, he turned to face her, but his face dropped immediately as he saw her grimace. “Are you okay? Did you hurt your leg or something?”

“Y/n!” Sam yelled, still holding his phone recording, as he ran down the stairs to see Colby holding her up. “You’re not gonna believe this! There was a handprint on your shirt!”

“Wait, a handprint?!” Colby responded, just as loudly. His eyes darted from Y/n’s face to Sam multiple times before he led her to the living room. He kneeled in front of her, held her hands, and helped her breathe. “Was that before or after she fell?”

“She fell?” Sam asked, confused. He did not even notice her fall after being distracted by seeing such a clear handprint on her shirt.

“Did you not see it? She screamed!” Colby snapped as he glared at Sam for a second before returning to Y/n when she whimpered in pain.

“Can you bicker like a married couple after one of you check my back? It’s burning so bad,” Y/n said painfully as she moved to sit toward the end of the couch and leaned onto Colby’s shoulder. Sam took the lead as he set his phone to the side, forgetting to stop the recording, as he slowly and carefully lifted her shirt. Y/n hissed in pain again, and now Sam could see why. Colby watched Sam’s eyes widen in shock as he froze. “What is it?”

“Y/n, don’t freak out-” Sam started but Y/n and Colby cut him off.

“It’s too late for that!”

“Okay okay! Uh, Y/n, you have five scratch marks down your back. Like someone dug all of their nails into your back, and three of them are bleeding,” Sam explained quickly as he lightly tapped the top of the scratch near her shoulder blades and the bottom near the bottom of her ribs.

“You’re lying, Sam,” Colby said in disbelief as he gently pulled away to see for himself. “Holy shit! Y/n you need to get out of here.”

Colby did not want to waste any time, so he pulled Y/n off the couch and out to the car. Thankfully, they had a first-aid kit in the car, and Colby left one of his hoodies in the car on accident, but it came in handy now. Sam followed them out with their main filming camera, not recording yet, but ready if Y/n was okay with it. 

“Y/n, am I allowed to record this?” Sam asked because consent is important and this is a traumatic thing. Sam was not going to push her boundaries.

“Yeah, sure, but where is Kat? She knocked on the door,” Y/n asked as she pulled her shirt off and turned her back to the boys, so Sam could get a shot of the damage, and Colby could help clean it.

“Kat’s not here,” Sam replied baffled. Kat had texted him just before the whole ordeal started, saying that she was stopping to pick up your favorite ice cream as a little treat and totally not bribery for godmother status. He knew she was at least 20 minutes away, so he was confused as to why Y/n thought Kat was there.

“The knocking. I thought it was Kat,” Y/n trailed off as she started thinking through the events. “What if the ghost, whoever it is, wanted to get me to go downstairs for this? What if I did not tell Colby to race? I would’ve fallen down the stairs and maybe…I don’t want to think about that.”

“Was this what Frank was talking about?” Sam suggested, turning the camera from your back to Colby, whose focus was finally broken as he placed the last bandage on her back. COlby’s eyes widened as he slowly turned to Sam. “Protect Y/n…”

“Protect me from what? What’s happening?” Y/n rapid-fired as she put on Colby’s XPLR hoodie that he left in the car. When she turned around, it looked like Sam and Colby saw a ghost. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“When we found out you were pregnant, Frank came through and told me to protect you,” Colby explained as they all sat or stood around the car. “I thought it was when you fell on the ice. That’s why I ran up to you so panicked, but I think Frank knew that some negative entity was going to hurt you. I’ll be honest, I don’t think you should stay here for the rest of the week.”

“How would Frank know that?”

“Maybe he heard something through the grapevine,” Sam proposed, “Satori and Cody said that the spirits were asking for us, so it would make sense if Frank heard something.”

“Honestly, I really don’t want you to stay here,” Colby said seriously as Kat pulled up. Sam took this as a good time to head over to her and explain everything that just happened, and it would give Y/n and Colby a chance to talk. “You could’ve gotten hurt and worse, the baby. I don’t want to risk that. I may have just found out, but I can’t risk anything happening to either of you. I promised you on our first date that I would protect you with my life, and I’m telling you, this is for the best. Please, please don’t fight me on this.”

“You say that like I’d want to go back in that house!” Y/n laughed nervously as she felt herself start crying as the emotions of the event finally caught up to her. Colby immediately wrapped his arms around her carefully as he stroked her hair to calm her down. “Colby, that spirit did not want me in that house. If I hadn’t challenged you to a race, I…Colby. I can’t even think about that. Colby, I’m not going to fight it because I need to think about them too, and honestly, I’m fine with going home or staying in a hotel for the next few days. I don’t care, I just don't want to go back in that house.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[nom-nommmm1]

Hi Oli,

I love your Lords Of Chaos stories so much, so could you write one for me? :)

I was thinking about Pelle x Fem reader, where she's Euronymous sister, and they have to keep their relationship a secret.

Xoxo and also I just saw that you write for some niche fandoms I really love, I can't wait for more stories to come

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET - PELLE/DEAD

Masterlist + taglist

AHHH HI ANON!! I’m so happy you like my stories! You’ll never know how much it means to me 🫶 also I’ve had ‘dirty little secret’ by The All-American Rejects stuck in my head FOR A WEEK truly amazing timing anon. But anyways, I look forward to see you request other fandoms soon. Also I didn’t know if you wanted to make this a smut or fluff so I’m gonna do fluff bc I’ve been in such a fluffy mood lol, request another if you’d like smut and I’ll gladly do it ❤️

Content warning !!: sweet!pelle x fem!reader, fluff?? There’s a suggestive part butt they don’t actually do it, kissing, hair pulling

The doorbell rings as the tussling of keys can be heard from Euronymous’ hands. “I got it!” I shout, opening the door to see Pelle standing there awkwardly. “Hey Pelle! You’re just in time, we’re all about to head to the movies” I say looking at the blonde haired boy, his cheeks turning a slight pink tone. “Oh yea uhm..Euro texted me” he says avoiding my gaze. He shuffles away from the doorway, letting Euronymous and I out. We all proceed to get into Euros car. “So are Faust and the guys meeting us there?” Pelle asks after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of the radio.

“Yeah, they’re just gonna be a minute since traffic’s pretty bad on their side” Euronymous says, putting his foot to the gas as the light turns green. Pelle nods, staring out the window, looking around at all the passing cars. I look at Pelle, he looks..tired? “You alright?” I ask. The blonde looks at me, seeming somewhat surprised by me breaking the silence. “Yea I’m fine y/n” he says looking back out the window to avoid the conversation.

The car pulls into the movie theater parking lot, we all get out walking up to the register. “Hello, what movie are we seeing today folks?” The cashier asks politely. “Three tickets for this movie please” Euronymous says, placing the money on the counter,pointing to a movie. “Of course, the concessions are inside” the cashier says handing us our tickets. Euronymous nods in acknowledgment, holding the door open for Pelle and I.

Walking up to the concessions counter Euro turns to us. “What do you guys want?” He asks pulling out a 20 dollar bill. “Popcorn and a slurpy?” I ask. “Sure sis, what about you Pelle?” He asks turning to the blonde. “Oh- I’m fine with whatever,” he says quickly, almost taken out of a trance. “Alright, you guys can sit down while I pay for this stuff” Euronymous says, pointing to the tables next to the bathrooms.

I nod walking over to the table, Pelle following close behind. We sit down. I look at Pelle, taking in his features as he refuses to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Nothing y/n” he says moving out of my touch. Euronymous comes back with a handful of snacks. “Come help me get the rest guys” we all grab our own snacks and drinks. “Sorry you guys are going to have to share popcorn, I was two bucks short to get another” Euro said as we walked down to our designated auditorium. “It’s fine Euro” I say as we take our seats.

The theaters lights dim as music from the projector plays, the movie is finally starting after what feels like an hour of previews. I go to reach for the bag of popcorn accidentally putting my hand on Pelles, immediately pulling away. “Sorry” I say quickly before turning back to the movie. The movie continues on, the main character jumping out into the frame of the projector screen.

The audience chuckles as they say a joke as a criminal swings at them. I take a sip of my slurpy taking a brief glance at Pelle. I look away as I see his eyes look over to me. I lean to Euronymous, whispering in his ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back” he nods as I get up from my seat, walking down the dimly lit movie theater stairs.

I walk into the bathroom, splashing water in my face, starting to sob into my hands. After a few minutes I hear slight knocking on the bathroom wall, a figure slowly coming into my line of vision. The figure comes closer to me, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry we have to do this” the figure says. “What..?” I ask looking up, at first confused but soon my confusion is clarified as I see Pelle, still there rubbing my back.

Pelle frowns, wiping my tears away. “I can’t stand to see you cry, but you know why we have to keep this a secret, right?” He asks coming closer to me. I nod looking into Pelles warm brown eyes. “I know, Euro won’t allow it” I reply sniffling. Pelles frown grows and he wraps his arms around me, putting his head in my neck giving me a small kiss.

“Just wait a little longer, we can convince him” Pelle says brushing my hair out of my face. I nod again looking at him glumly. “Hey it’s okay, I promise” he says smiling, waiting for me to smile back but I don’t. Pelle then puts me into a kiss, my eyes widen in shock but I kiss him back passionately. I wrap my arms around Pelles neck. Pelle kisses me harder, putting his hands on my waist, picking me up. “Pelle!” I yelp feeling his hands on my ass, lifting me up.

Pelle places me on the bathroom counter, pushing me against the mirror as his lips attack mine. “I missed this” he mumbles into my lips, coating them with our saliva. I giggle pulling onto Pelles hair. He moans in my mouth, biting my lip and touching up on my body. He’s about to undo his pants before we hear a voice of a staff member. “Get out of there before I call your mamas!!” The staff member screams banging her mop on the floor. Pelle and I bolt out of the bathroom making out to our movie auditorium. “Remember, keep this between us” Pelle says before opening the door for me.

“Of course” I say walking in. “Alright, I’m gonna wait out here for a few minutes so they don’t think anything” he says giving me a quick kiss before shutting the door, smiling.

SORRY FOR THE DELAY BBS IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY N THERES BEEN A BUNCH OF DRAMA W MY FRIENDS BUT IMMA TRY TO UPLOAD

Alt acc: @nom-nommmmworkspace

Taglist

╰┈➤@mxqlss @roseroseluvrr @bkaulitzz @adellaonly @m3tal-chick

[axelsagewrites]

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[tales-from-elysivm]

BOO! Hii :)) I luv your arcane work, wondering if you could write a lil fluff fic with Vi and Jinx w/ an SO that has trouble getting out of bed bc of motivation problems, and they help a lot (I'm not projecting...I swear...)

★。／ just keep driving ＼。★

pairing: vi x f!reader, jinx x gn!reader (separate)

fandom: arcane

word count: 480

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, other than that just some wholesome fluffy content for my girls cuz they really need it – not proofread. Im tired

song title: keep driving by harry styles (i’m in a phase ok-)

notes: dw anon i hear you, my sleep schedule has been busted recently and i have no motivation :DD hope you enjoy some fluffy content with our girls, they really need it, so i loved this request!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

↳˗ˏviˎ˗ ↴

i don’t think vi has ever had a moment to slow down in her entire life

going from looking after powder to living in a prison to trying to track down her sister and help caitlin, vi just simply doesn’t have the time 

but that doesn’t mean she isn’t sympathetic to you

she finds you one morning when you had been late to meet up with her to complete a bounty she had taken on for some extra cash, so she decides to travel to your home in zaun to figure out what’s wrong with you

walking through your front door, she worries that maybe someone broke in

are you hurt?

did you leave?

did something happen to you?

what if– 

but no, you’re just in bed, staring at the ceiling and not moving, even when your bedroom door swings open and you have a 5’8” buff woman in the doorway

she will drag you out of bed if she has to, carrying you around, gently coaxing you through your day’s chores one at a time, with her right beside you <3 

“hey cupcake… rough couple of weeks? i understand, i’ll help you out today, yeah? one step at a time babe, and i’ll be here the whole time. slowly, ok? let’s get you some food first before we head out for the day. you gotta get out of bed today though, and i’m not leaving you here.”

↳˗ˏ jinx ˎ˗ ↴

jinx isn’t going to be much help to be honest 

all things considered, i don’t think jinx really does anything she is supposed to do, without putting it off for weeks and weeks

this isn’t necessarily a motivation issue with her though, just just can’t be fucked-

so when she comes barreling into your house to show off a new bomb she had been experimenting with, almost setting your house on fire, she’s not entirely surprised to find you curled up in bed

she’ll put away the bomb if you ask nicely enough - and give her a good pair of puppy eyes - and instead she’ll join you in bed

she doesn’t have anything to do that day anyways

and if you do? she thinks you can do it tomorrow, who’s really gonna care?

you have a girlfriend willing to commit arson for you if you ask, no one is going to criticise you as long as jinx is around

cuddles are in store for you

(if you beg her, you might be able to convince her to help you with your chores later on too)

“heya toots! it’s a lazy day today, huh? no problem, i was gonna have one of those myself. leave monkey-bomb outside? fineeee. if you insist. we’re not doing anything today though, ya hear me? i could really use some cuddles after tinkering in my workshop all day. scooch over now, bubbles!”

hope you enjoyed anon!!!

be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed :))

[sokoneedsagun]

Let’s talk about “replacement”

If you’ve been in the dc fandom for longer than maybe a week, you’ve probably seen it before. It’s present in fanfics, tumblr posts, role plays, and fanart. On the off chance that you somehow don’t know about it, “replacement” is a sort of nickname often used for Tim Drake by Jason Todd

This post is going to be cut, I’m going to leave the explanation out but there should be two other sections under it as well

Where did it come from?

There are two possible places that the use of it came from

The first is from a Batman comic series from 2002 called “hush” and I’ll spare you most spoilers about the comic but the part of it that’s important to this conversation has to do with Bruce, Jason, Tim, Selina, and Clayface

While catwoman is fighting huntress (Helena Bertanelli) who is currently drugged by poison ivy, Bruce is worried that Helena is going to force Selina to kill her so he tells Tim (who is Robin at the time) to stay where is and look for someone

Before Bruce can tell him who he’s looking for a figure appears behind Tim and says he’s the one they’re looking for, before hitting Tim and calling him “pretender”

When Bruce finds Tim he’s being held at knifepoint by “Jason” who begins lashing out and then fighting Bruce. Eventually he melts in the rain and is shown to be only made out of clay, and the real Jason Todd is still dead.

The important thing about this, is that Jason never called Tim “pretender,” he never held Tim at knifepoint point (if you ever see anything about Jason “slitting Tim’s throat” that’s where it’s from, Tim was fine all he needed was a bandage), all of it was done by Clayface who was mimicking Dick Graysons movements and using what he knew about Jason to manipulate Bruce.

As to where “replacement” specifically came from, the only time I’ve ever heard about its origin was in a TikTok where the person who made the video said it came from a fanfic (which is very likely true), in the comics Jason has never called Tim by that name

Why does the nickname not make sense?

The nickname doesn’t make sense because if anyone would be a pretender or replacement, it’s Jason. Jason Todd is one of the original robins but he isn’t the original Robin. That title will always belong to DIck Grayson.

And in brining up something like this you have to acknowledge the origins of the moniker in the first place. The name “Robin” came from a nickname that Mary Grayson had for her son, I’m fairly sure the original reasoning was because he was born in the early spring. The reason DIck chose to go by Robin is because the name was important to him, it let him feel closer to his late mother, similarly to how the original Robin costume is based on his flying Grayson’s outfit.

But when Dick was 17 or 18 he was shot in the shoulder by the joker, and Bruce tells him that he can’t keep risking his life as Robin, so he fires him. Dick moves out to Blüdhaven, starts working almost solely with the teen titans, and gets a new moniker (nightwing) given to him by Superman.

And then Bruce adopts Jason, and he gives him Dick’s name and uniform, putting a new child in the way of harm. And yes, Jason did make Robin his own but it was not his, he would have no right to put a claim over the name.

Why does any of this matter?

In short, it doesn’t. There is nothing inherently wrong with writing Jason using the term but in my opinion for their relationship, it just dosen’t make sense.

In the comics Jason has a complicated relationship with everyone in the batfamily, he’s grappling with coming back to life and trying to find a place for himself while also working through his own grief and anger

When you read comics though, when they’re together they often work well together and even hang out a few times, there’s one panel where Jason is trying to take tim out to get a drink (underage drinking is bad don’t do it/lh), and they have a fairly normal sibling dynamic with each other

Which is why I don’t understand where the concept of all the hate and resentment came from in the fandom, I’m genuinely curious as to know why it’s so prominent everywhere

[aristocratic-otter]

Welp, I wasn't going to post today...but then I realized that the final chapter of Heart in the Well will go up before Sunday, and that'll render the excerpt I carefully picked out obsolete by then. So I scrambled to pick bits from my other stories just so I could post this one excerpt. Go me!

The good news about Heart being done? I've got a new WIP plotted out that I'm super excited about, but I wouldn't let myself write anything until one of my WIPs finished. So next week or the week after, you should see the first words from that fic, a very very angsty Watford era canon divergence.

In the mean time, thank you to : @monbons, @messofthejess, @rimeswithpurple, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @best--dress,

@nausikaaa, @youarenevertooold, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @j-nipper-95, and

@facewithoutheart for the tags over the last two weeks. I'm having so much fun reading and watching your stories and art. This is such an incredibly talented fandom, it's endlessly inspiring. Plus, I get to meet some of you soon when I see Rainbow in August!

Here's my teasers for this week:

Here’s one from each of my official WIPs

From Saving Simon Snow: 

I shake my head now, thinking about it. I’ll just have to keep close to Simon, or at least, as close as he’ll allow me. At least my vampire anatomy gives me an advantage there; I can listen to what’s happening with Simon from three rooms away (I won’t, unless it’s a matter of his safety. It’s a gross invasion of his privacy otherwise) (fortunately, I had to learn to tune out the chatter of my peers by my 2nd year at Watford, or I would have gone mad). 

From the Heart in the Well

He looks back at me and then frowns. “Well, come on then,” he says, impatiently. 

“Come on, what?” I say, exasperated. The water’s up to my breastbone now, and I’m starting to feel a little panicky, so my voice comes out higher pitched than I’d like. 

Now, he rolls his eyes. “I need your tie,” he says as if it were obvious. It was not obvious. “Take it off, please.” At that, I shiver a little. I never thought there’d be a day where Simon Snow would be telling me to take off my clothes.

From Snow Fox: Penny, learning you can’t go home again (especially if you’ve signed on with the Snow Fox)

I step onto the road and walk briskly towards the house I grew up in. I can tell when I’ve been noticed. Several heads swivel my direction, and the murmur of conversation in the camp ceases. I keep on as if I haven’t noticed however. As I draw closer, I nod distractedly at some of the boys nearer to my path. They don't nod back. They’re watching me with narrowed eyes and I shudder internally. What do they see when they look at me?

From TikTok Dancer: Quite a bit racier than what I usually post, but still Tumblr legal, I think

Years from now, if I, for some odd reason, try to explain how my first time having sex felt, I won’t be able to. There’s no describing it.  I’m planning to get a degree in words, for fuck’s sake, but right now, all language has left me, sailed back to England probably. I’m left with caveman grunts and desperate whines. Every particle of sensation in my body has gathered between my legs, and every atom of will I have left is devoted to an attempt to meld my body with his. I’ve almost succeeded–we’re nearly one creature now, moving in frantic, panting unison. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

I know he’s been looking for me. I know he’s probably forgiven my great sin. He shouldn’t. Forgiveness requires that the person who receives it is contrite, is sorry for what they’ve done. 

I’m not sorry. I’d do it again today, if the circumstances were the same. 

Even being estranged from the only person in this world that I care about is still better than the permanent separation that would result if we were rescued. 

I believe that we’ll be friends again someday. Some day when the pain in my chest and stomach have dulled. And that day is worth waiting for.

From Cupid’s Shield:

I’m left gaping at where he just stood. It’s suddenly clear to me how much of his vampire abilities Baz has been hiding, because I was looking right at him. 

I never saw him move. 

All I know is suddenly he’s above me, and my arms are above my head and prisoned to the bed by his hands clamped around my wrists. I’m so stunned that I don’t even struggle. 

His knees are on either side of my hips, and he’s staring down at me like I’m his next meal. 

From my COBB project:

I know I should be worrying over tomorrow, and what my team will face out there. And I will be worrying over that—tomorrow. Tonight, I’m far more worried about the hours ahead. Hours of, once again, sharing a room with the only man I’ve ever loved. A man who’s never looked at me as anything other than a posh prick. 

That’s my fault, of course. It could have been different, all those years ago, when we first met at Watford Uni. I was excited, back then, to meet my roommate. Excited, and nervous. I freely admit I’ve had a privileged upbringing, and this would be the first time I’d ever shared a room. 

My childhood was mostly lonely, so I didn’t mind the idea. I’d thought it’d be nice to always have someone nearby to talk to. 

Of course, everyone knows how that turned out.

As others have said recently, please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged and I'll take you off of my tag list. Unless I hear otherwise, I assume you're like me, and like to hear from people even if you're not feeling like sharing yourself.

Tags and cheers to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash,

@moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee,

@tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix,

@shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16,

@noblecorgi, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello,

@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart,  @cutestkilla,

@theearlgreymage, @alexalexinii, @prettygoododds, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch,

@Iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall, @larkral, @ileadacharmedlife, @thewholelemon 

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone!! Thanks for the tags @blackberrysummerblog and @artsyunderstudy!!

This week I’ve done the big three: writing, editing, and ignoring my wips, with perhaps a bit more of the last one than I’d like. Most of my writing this week has been for an exchange fic for a different fandom, which I finally finished the rough draft of. Cue the celebration. However, even if I wanted to share anything from that, I can’t, it must remain hush-hush, but I am getting pretty excited to share it (and way more excited about receiving my own exchange fic back, this whole thing is very fun).

I’ve written less than 300 words on my COBB this week, and none of them are good, but I have gotten some editing done of Proof of Life. I can’t share any more snippets of the next chapter though because I’ve shared too much already. So instead, I figured I’d do a bit of a process post this time around, because I always love reading those. Check that out under the cut! (and i'm sorry this is long, i still have not learned brevity)

So my editing process isn’t too crazy, and is brought to you almost entirely by google docs comments. I also use the word ‘editing’ very loosely to encompass rewriting, revising, and proofreading. Sometimes editing means completely rewriting a scene/section, sometimes it just means switching around a couple of words or cleaning up a sentence. 

Mostly, I try not to take everything so seriously, because I know that I could edit something forever and ever and never post it if I let myself get too carried away. So I try to keep everything pretty chill. So here’s my steps I go through for each chapter that I edit. 

Step One: Reread the whole chapter. While I do this, I’ll leave comments on big picture things. “Maybe move this scene into the next chapter” or “The dialogue in this scene feels stilted” but I don’t add a lot of comments at this point. Once I’m done with this I’ll copy over any comments I had on the first draft or the beta reader copy over into the ‘draft two’ document. 

Step Two: COMMENTS. Again, my fics are brought to you by google doc comments. I like to go through from the bottom up, reading scene by scene and leaving comments on pretty much every single sentence. 

A lot of the time (read: most of the time) these are really vague like:

And sometimes these are more detailed like:

And occasionally these are compliments

Step Three: Once the whole chapter is filled with comments, I go through scene by scene (in whatever order speaks to me), and rewrite, edit, or fix sections. This part I find really fun, because I’m taking parts that aren’t good yet and I’m making them better. I love fixing things and getting rid of all the comments. It typically ends up being a lot of  rewriting, but I always finish a scene feeling better about it then when I started.

For example, here’s the draft one vs. draft two version of a snippet from the first chapter of Proof of Life. This is one of the scenes I pretty much rewrote. Others look a lot more similar to their original versions.

Original:

Edited:

Step Four: Then before I post a chapter, I’ll read through the whole thing and sometimes find smaller bits to fix. Then I’ll run it through a grammar checker and ignore half of their suggestions in the name of ✨style ✨.

Overall, I feel like I have a pretty basic editing strategy and I’m really pleased with it. Even though sometimes I feel like more robust edits would make everything way better, it’s a good mix of fixing things but not spending too much time on it. I remember I spent like a month on editing the very first fic I posted at that was only 6k words. If I kept doing that for everything, I'd never post anything at all. With fanfiction, I know that y'all will be nice to me even though it's never perfect <333

Tags and Hellos!! (I'm unsure if we still need the spaces, but i've been burned too many times lol)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @m1ndwinder @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @monbons @shrekgogurt @brendughh @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz @skeedelvee @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita

[bloodibambiidoll]

The Pull: Steddie x Succubus reader

Summary: You move to Hawkins after spending the last decade in New York City hoping to have a peaceful and quiet next few years flying under the radar only feeding when necessary and making everyone you spend a night with forget you. But when you arrive, you feel a pull from two men like you’ve never felt before. As soon as you feel it you know flying under the radar here wasn’t going to cut it, you had to find them. Masterlist.

Warnings: Not very many for this chapter, sexual themes, language. But future chapters will have rough smut, dom/sub dynamics, M/M/F threesome, demon sex, and I’ll probably add more once I post the actual chapters.

‼️THIS STORY AND MY ENTIRE BLOG ARE 18+ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY‼️

Also this is my first fic not only in this fandom but in MANY years so please be nice to me, feedback would be amazing too I’d love to hear what people think. I hope you enjoy!🖤 (also shout out @bimbobaggins69 for helping me understand how to format my fic on here and giving me the confidence to do so🥺)

You watched them quietly, perched on a tree branch outside the window of the large house. They were both sprawled out on the bed, still naked after they had just been ravaging each other moments ago. The longer haired one with the tattoos on his chest who looked like he just walked out of an MTV music video ran his fingers through the hair of the other boy, who looked like some kind of Prince Charming in a fairy tale. They were an odd pair, you thought, that was part of what drew you to them. The stark contrast of light and dark, both ends of the spectrum. Over the time you had been watching them you’d noticed a few things about them, the tattooed boy was very dominant when they were intimate with each other he was very much in charge, but the few times when you braved watching them out in public you noticed that Prince Charming was much more level headed and in control of his partner. It seemed they balanced each other out well despite their physical differences.

That’s not truly what drew you to them though, when you first felt them you didn’t even know what they looked like yet. You had just arrived in Hawkins, a small town in Indiana, a fresh start. You had spent almost the entire last decade in New York, under your latest identity but the people around you changed, aged, and you didn't, so before they noticed you would move on, again and again for as long as you can remember you have existed this way. Indiana is a state you’ve yet to live in, and having spent the last ten years in busy New York you choose a quaint small town to settle and the moment you drove past the welcome to Hawkins sign you could sense them.

You had never felt a pull like this before, so you immediately followed it, and what you found was two very attractive young men who were absolutely enthralled with each other, but each of them had something they desired, something they felt was missing… a woman. They wanted a woman to join them, you could feel their need and their want to share that with each other. Not that their sex life wasn’t phenomenal because it was, if it was just any two human males wanting to find a third you wouldn’t feel it this strongly but these two were passionate and they were extremely horny just from watching them you felt like you were gaining energy every time. But watching was getting old, you hadn’t fed since you arrived in town almost a week ago, no one could measure up, you needed them and you needed them soon.

•

The next day you sat in the small apartment you had charmed the property manager into giving you the keys for trying to come up with a plan. You had two options, you could either just burst into their house and tell them the truth about who and what you were (which you’ve never done you aren’t sure what it is about them that has you even considering it) OR you can run into them in public, stage a meeting and go through the motions of getting them into bed with you without telling them what you were and erasing yourself from their memories after.

Option one was sounding better and better… you never had a desire to be with the same person twice, no one ever having a long lasting effect on you, so why do these two boys who you have yet to even speak to have you reconsidering that? You needed to know.

So you made a decision, probably a stupid one, but a decision nonetheless. Getting dressed in a short skirt and a tight tank top, you slipped your shoes on and walked out the door. Before you could talk yourself out of it you got in your car and drove in the direction of the large house you’ve spent so much time outside of recently, determined to be on the inside this time.

•

“Babe, I’m telling you, I saw that girl again yesterday when we were walking out of the arcade with the kids! I don’t know how you haven’t noticed her ANY of the times? We have a hot stalker and you’re oblivious” Eddie said with a huff plopping down on the couch next to his boyfriend

Steve scoffs “Dude, babe, we do NOT have a stalker, let alone a hot one. It’s probably just a girl you haven’t seen before that has HAPPENED to be in the same place as us a few times”

“No Steve, I’m TELLING you, this girl was watching us, I looked over at her and she just kept staring right at me and didn’t even move or blink dude it was like she was a statue. The most gorgeous statue I’ve ever seen but still, a statue”

“Okay? So a pretty girl stared at you and now she’s stalking us??” Steve looked at his boyfriend with an amused smile on his face before laughing

Eddie rolled his eyes “I don’t know why you’re laughing at me, I already told you I also saw her at the store when we were grocery shopping in the parking lot, and I saw her outside the diner the next day. I’m NOT crazy dude she is REAL”

“Okay, fine, say she IS real, why would she be stalking US?” This makes Eddie think for a moment because why would she be stalking them? He’s not sure.. but he knows he really wants to find out next time he sees you. “Okay that’s a good point but still, I’m gonna try and talk to her next time I see her”

“Yeah okaaay Eds if she’s real I’m sure you’re really gonna chat her up with your lady killing skills” Steve snorted

“You know WHAT HARRI-“ He was cut off by the sound of the door bell “whose that? I didn’t think we were expecting anyone?”

“We weren’t, I’ll go see who it is” Steve said as he got up to walk to the door. When he opened it to say he was surprised would be an understatement, one of the prettiest girls he’s EVER seen, maybe the actual prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing on his doorstep looking at him with the sweetest look he’s ever seen.

“H-hi, can I help you?” He asked, and before you could answer you heard loud footsteps come bounding into the entryway “Babe, who's at the door-“ he’s stopped in his tracks because standing there, living and breathing and very real was YOU, the girl who he keeps seeing everywhere, who has been haunting his dreams, standing on their doorstep.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[basilone]

Fandom: Masters of the Air Written for: @blind-dates-fest as my second 2024 entry! Introducing: Lucy Jones

Bubbles can’t fly like this.

It’s the first thing that pushes past the loop of flying today up in the sky today flying today that has been rampaging through his head since they sent for him. Harry needs to take only one look at Bubbles – miserable, shivering, looking pale and peaky – to know that his friend’s grounded by circumstances beyond his control. It’s a fact of life that Bubbles would be up there no problem if his stomach allowed for it, just as it is a fact that he’s huddled beneath a blanket looking mightily sorry for himself right now.

He pays Bubbles the same glowing compliment the man always pays him – you look like shit – and is rewarded for it with a supply hand-off and the worst news Harry’s heard all week.

“We’re leading the wing today.”

Harry’s somewhat proud of himself for not dropping any of his supplies. Even prouder of the fact that his voice doesn’t quite squeak, really, when he tells Bubbles he can’t just lead a wing. They can’t let him do that. They can’t just stick him up there and make that happen. Aren’t there rules to this sort of thing?

But Bubbles is talking already – talking mission, talking fact – and Harry’s got no choice but to try and commit it all to memory. He’s creating a visual in his head that he hopes Bubbles stored on paper in that hand-off somewhere. A map, a direction, anything beyond the vague sense of foreboding that resides in his gut and the near-gibberish that’s running its course in the back of his mind. Leading the wing. Leading the goddamn wing.

“Great Yarmouth,” he confirms once Bubbles finishes up. Harry feels as sick as Bubbles looks – all queasy inside – but he nods to make Bubbles feel better about handing off a bombing run like that. “Yeah.”

“Don’t be nervous.”

“And don’t stand so close to your buddy,” pipes up a new, rather upbeat voice somewhere to his left. “Unless you wanna get sick on the plane.”

The first thing Harry sees when he looks in the voice’s direction is a raised eyebrow that could rival his mother’s. The second thing he sees is a white uniform, pristine except for some faded pink stains at the sleeve cuffs, and dark hair pulled into a tight knot. Her face is passably familiar – dark eyes, button nose, little dimple in her chin – but Harry will be damned if he can remember a name to go with that.

“Nobody’s getting sick on the plane, Lu!” shouts Major Egan, clearly knowing the woman a hell of a lot better than Harry does. “Scout’s honor!”

“Boy, you’d better pray that’s true,” mutters the woman – Lu – loud enough for Harry to make out. “Don’t know what the hell you were thinking letting him on the damn plane in the first place. Sick as a dog and all. If this is a virus, John”– she remarks, now raising her voice for Major Egan to hear –“you are gonna regret that take-off like no tomorrow!”

“Hey, if we all get sick, can we be in your club?”

Harry decides he rather likes Lu when she heaves a deep sigh and stalks over to the jeep Bubbles is seated on. She is thoroughly ignoring the major, who’s standing behind her with his arms wide and looking almost as quizzical as Meatball does when DeMarco’s hiding his treats again. Lu slings her bag into the back of the jeep before stepping closer to Bubbles.

“When I drive you,” she says without preamble, “you lean backward as far as you can go. Tilt your head back and breathe. I’ll not have you sick up in my baby, all right?” She pats the jeep’s side almost lovingly. “Any move the jeep makes, you lean the other way. Breathe deep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Does that help?” asks Harry, curious despite himself. “The breathing?”

“Eh, fifty fifty,” she says, wobbling her hand back and forth uncertainly. “Sure doesn’t hurt, though! Little trick one of the airsick girls taught us. She’s in ops now, but we owe her for that one.” Lu’s hand disappears into one of her pockets. “Got something else that might… Yeah… Hang on.”

“Lu, the club?” asks Egan again, coming to stand beside Harry. “Are we in or not?”

“Which club?”

“Y-Yeah,” shivers Bubbles, “what club?”

“No, John, you won’t be in my Lucy’s Losers club,” she remarks patiently as she pulls her hand out of her pocket to proudly show off a small bottle. “You’ll be chewing on this. Ginger. Keeps you from sicking up in your plane. Keeps whatever he’s got”– she nods at an increasingly morose-looking Bubbles –“at bay, too.” A pause. A frown. “I hope.”

“It’s probably just food poisoning…”

“That is in no way the reassurance you probably intended for it to be,” says Lu, frowning even more deeply at Bubbles as she holds the bottle out to them. “You’ve all been eating the same meals, for crying out loud. You, what’s your name?”

Harry blinks at her. “Me? It’s, uh, Harry. Harry Crosby. Ma’am.”

“Okay, Harry, you take the bottle. John’s going to be popping these like candy if left unsupervised, so I am entrusting you with it.” Her frown vanishes into a bright flash of a smile as Harry takes the bottle from her outstretched hand. He smiles back a little tremulously, not daring to hope that she’s just handed him his actual salvation. “There’s a good man. You hold on tight to that, okay?”

“Hold on to this, too,” says Bubbles, shoving something else into Harry’s increasingly full hands. It’s small, round, and entirely too fragile for Harry to be holding. He swallows as Bubbles clarifies. “Lucky snow globe.”

“Thanks?”

“Lu, if we still get sick despite the ginger and the breathing,” says Egan, clearly not feeling the same slight glimmer of hope that’s taken firm root in Harry’s belly despite his best efforts to remain calm, “I’m going to rename my plane.”

“You do that.”

“I’ll name it Lucy’s Losers. Can just see it now. Nice lettering on the side. Splash of color.”

“You’re forgetting I have friends in high places.”

“Your twin might disown you at last, though,” he counters, smiling. “Can just hear her now. Unbecoming of the Dorrance-Jones name and all that.”

“That’s not new,” snorts Lu, “but my boot up your ass is going to feel real new if you dare put my name on the side of a fortress, John Clarence Egan.”

“You’re not wearing boots, so I’ll be safe.”

“You’re not getting sick,” she warns, smiling back, “so the point is moot. Now go on, off with you. You’ve got a flight to catch, don’t ya?”

“Nurse’s orders,” grins Egan as he strides off toward their plane without so much as a farewell word for Lu and Bubbles beyond a wink. “You ever argue with those?”

“Can’t say I have, sir,” says Harry, trying to keep up while juggling multiple items in his hands. “Doesn’t seem smart to. Like arguing with your wife.” He hasn’t argued with Jean except for that one time she was stressing out over napkin placement at their wedding. Still, the point stands. “They know what’s good for us.” He holds the bottle up to the light. Squints at the pieces of ginger inside. “Worth a try?”

“I don’t get sick easily, but pass it around the plane. Just in case she’s right. It’s a bit of a ride to Norway.”

I’m gonna need all the help I can get. Harry nods. Clutches the bottle a little tighter. Leading the wing. Norway. He takes a deep breath. Then another. Follows Egan up into the fortress and prays Lucy Dorrance-Jones knows her way around queasy stomachs.

It can’t get worse, surely?

[charmingpplincardigans]

How’s everyone doing? I’ll go first, I’m bad!

I have been ~*~struggling~*~ since mid-September and in the last two weeks it has just gotten unbearable. I feel like I’m drowning all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with and reaching out to people I want to talk to. And that’s like, on top of always having been bad at getting back to people. *stares forlornly at the ask Chaz sent me like, literally two years ago that I think about daily but just. haven’t. RESPONDED TO.*

Things are just. Closing in on all sides unfortunately. I’ve been sick several times. I bounced this month’s rent check. A thing I had NEVER DONE BEFORE IN MY LIFE before this last move. My job is literally never going to pay me what I’m worth. Or anyone what they’re worth, frankly. I broke down in front of my boss the other day and just sobbed for an hour because after I pay my bills every paycheck I have just enough left over to buy groceries for two weeks, if I’m careful, and little else. Which means I’m putting stuff like gas on credit cards, which isn’t helping the debt that makes me feel like drowning in the first place.  I’ve been at this job SEVENTEEN YEARS. A steady, corporate job. And I’ve never once in my entire time there made an actual cost of living raise!! The cost of living just keeps raising without me! (And also everyone else, I know!)

I’m super overdue on getting people the art they commissioned from me, but my brain just hasn’t been in a good enough place to create much of anything, and I keep thinking I have to get this done and then thinking they deserve better than this, around and around on a loop ad finitum. And there are a couple of other things going on personally that just fucking blow that I don’t know how to fix and I’m just gonna choke on it.

I haven’t done any fandom stuff since NYCC. I haven’t written on my WIP. I haven’t read fic. I don’t check in on the madness happening on twitter. I’ve barely popped my head into my favorite pirate group chat over the last five months or so. I miss doing all of that so much and my stupid brain is so broken that even when I try I can’t enjoy it.

Shit. I’m having a hard time getting work work done. I just sit down at my desk every day, answer emails, and then spend five or so hours frozen with anxiety because there’s too much to do and doing nothing is only making it worse every day.

I need to be back in therapy ASAP, but unfortunately you can’t eat therapy so I can’t pay for it!!

And I feel guilty saying any of this to almost everyone I would usually talk to. (Congrats and condolences to the rest of you!) Because they’re having a harder time than me. Or because they’d just want to give me a bit of money about it, which would fuck me up even more. Or because it’s just tedious and boring and no one wants to listen to me talk about this over and over again, even though it’s all my brain does every hour of every day. It’s a wonder I’m ever able to talk about anything else.

My boss is pretty great, in spite of it all. She’s constantly supportive (to the extent she can be), and she just. She tells me all the time how creative and wonderful and smart and cool to know I am. And every time I just like, tear up, because none of it feels true. But I also tear up when my friends and my partner say those things too. Because to me, a full grown adult without a savings or a 401K or the ability to like, go get drinks just because I want to, I feel like a complete and utter failure.  So like. Whatever I guess!!

I need to find a new job that pays me way more. Then I can get a therapist to fix my brain and save money to pay down my debts and have money to have fun with my friends and not feel like a constant financial burden on everyone. Then I can have the brain power back to maybe work on my fic or complete that art or like, I don’t know, talk to the people who actively want to talk to me. You wouldn't think that part would be so hard, but it really, really is.

I’m working on it. I’ll keep working on it. I have LinkedIn open right now. I’m gonna fucking sob through it, but that doesn’t mean none of it will get done.

In the meantime, if anyone knows of a good way to make a quick $30 grand, I’m all ears.

[auspicious-manner]

Can i request newsies era mike trying to cheer up the reader on a bad day?

a year ago today, i uploaded my very first story on tumblr :,) i’ve written on other platforms before, but when i made this account a year ago, i was hoping for a fresh start. i didn’t know if people would like my writing, but i told myself it was worth a shot. and it’s been so worth it.

to everyone who reads my stories, interacts with it, follows me, and sends in request, i thank you. i write for you guys, and knowing that i’ve made others happy is truly such a gift. in honor of my one year anniversary, enjoy this mike story! it seems only fitting that i upload a mike story exactly a year after i uploaded my first mike story 😁

also, i recently got a request for a taglist for my stories! if any of you want to be added to my taglist for any of my stories/fandoms, pls just let me know! i never thought that would be something people would be interested in, so i never proposed it before 😅

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: sickness, accidents

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Unlucky

•

the universe was clearly against you. there could be no other explanation. every event leading up to the show on this particular day led you one step closer to full fledged insanity.

you and mike were in newsies on broadway at the same time. he was one of the delancey brothers, an understudy for jack, and a newsie. you were a bowery beauty, nun, and an understudy for katherine. given that you and mike were so close and had the same schedule, a month prior you two had decided to move in together.

mike was your comfort person. you weren’t dating, but you weren’t friends. you were somewhere in the middle with him, but the two of you had never actually talked out your feelings. you both seemed to be happy with where you were.

on the fateful morning, you woke up and immediately sat up in your bed. your throat was scratchy. you frowned, immediately thinking of the worst. you took a sip of water and the pain was worse. not only that, but you were shivering under the weight of three blankets and a hoodie, and you felt like your head was going to split open at any second.

you had a fever.

you laid back down, groaning. you had a show tonight, and it was an important show. you had friends and family from out of town coming to support you, and they had been planning this trip for weeks.

“mike!” you called out, your voice slightly hoarse. there was no reply.

“mike!” you yelled a bit louder, your hands immediately going to hold your throat from the pain.

finally, when he didn’t reply again, you rolled over to get your phone to call him. he answered, almost annoyed. “Y/N, what do you want?”

“where are you?” you asked.

“i ran out to the store.”

you coughed gently. “are you still there?”

“no, why?”

you sighed, closing your eyes. “i’m sick and i wanted some cold medicine.”

there was silence for a few moments. “oh, are you okay?” mike asked, his tone immediately switching from one of annoyance to one of genuine concern.

“i’m fine, i just need to get better before the show starts tonight,” you replied, putting a hand on your forehead. you were burning up.

mike sighed. “you shouldn’t go on tonight if you’re sick, Y/N. it’s not worth it.”

“my family and friends from home are coming tonight. i absolutely cannot miss this.”

mike paused, like he was thinking about what to do. “okay, fine, i’ll go back to the store and bring you home some medicine.”

“thanks mike, see you soon.”

you hung up the call and laid your phone on the nightstand by your bed. after another fifteen minutes of zoning out, you came to the conclusion that there was no use in laying around being miserable all day. you figured that if you got up and made yourself useful you’d feel better.

you gently sat up, and slowly moved to put your feet on the floor. the cold hardwood beneath your feet made you even colder than you already were. you walked to the kitchen, feeling more fatigued than you ever had before. even though you weren’t hungry, you got out the ingredients to make an omelet. you were so focused on your cooking skills that the rest of the world faded into silence, but it also could have been the fact that you couldn’t hear because your sinuses were clogged.

as you were flipping the omelet in the pan, you heard a loud “boo!” in your ear and someone gently shoving you. you gasped, accidentally touching the side of the burning pan with your fingers. you yelped in pain and threw the pan back down on the stove, turning around to see mike with a grin on his face. however, the grin quickly faded when he saw not only your burnt fingers but also how sickly and pale you looked.

“mike, what the hell?” you croaked, holding your fingers as you walked to the freezer to grab some ice. it felt like the tips of your fingers had burned off.

mike put down his plastic grocery bag on the counter. “dammit, Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t realize you were this bad,” he said sadly.

you rolled your eyes, the coldness of the ice counteracting the burns on your fingers. “did you think i was kidding about being sick?”

“no, i just didn’t know you felt that terrible,” he paused. “are you sure you can perform tonight?”

you nodded. “i can’t miss it.”

mike gave you a look like he didn’t believe you, and that he didn’t like your stubborn decision. you both went silent before mike stepped closer to you, glancing at your burnt fingers. “now i feel bad for scaring you.”

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at mike. even though he scared you and caused you to burn three fingers, he always knew how to make you smile. “you should feel bad. my fingertips are in pain.”

you finished making your omelet and took some of the medicine mike had brought home. you planned to take some more medicine shortly before the show.

after the cold medicine kicked in and your fever was suppressed, you actually felt relatively okay. in order to convince yourself that you were better, you agreed to go to the park with mike for some fresh air.

walking around central park with mike was good for your soul. you loved the fresh air and the nature of it all, but having mike by your side made it so much better. as often as he got on your nerves, he was your best friend. he made you giddy and excited, and every time he complimented you after a show it would make you nervous and give you butterflies. he knew it did too, thats why he kept doing it; he liked making you flustered.

you layered on jackets in the brisk autumn air, as you still had a leftover chill in your body from your sickness.

“how are you feeling? better?” mike asked as you both walked.

“yeah, a lot better, but i know when that medicine wears off i’m going to feel like crap again. and wrapping my fingertips has made them feel a little bit better,” you said, glancing at your fingers that were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze and medical tape.

“is there anything i can do? you know, to help?”

you smiled to yourself. “no, mike, thank you though,” you said quietly and sweetly. “having you here is enough.”

mike blushed lightly, putting an arm lazily around your shoulders. “stop being so sappy.”

you continued like that for a while longer, with you under his arm enjoying the park around you. not long later, mike told you he was going to run to the bathroom, and you told him you’d wait by a tree for him.

as you waited, you people watched everyone around you. you thought about how everyone there had their own stories. their own lives. just as you were sick and preparing to perform in front of your closest friends and family for the first time, these other people had their own life problems to attend to, and no one would be the wiser. it was oddly peaceful knowing that there are so many stories being written around you.

suddenly, you were pulled out of your daydream by a soccer ball being kicked into the side of your head. you may have been people watching, but the kids playing with the ball seemed to come out of nowhere for you.

you held the side of your head and groaned as the sound of small footsteps approached you. “sorry, miss,” a little boy’s voice said as he grabbed the ball and ran back to his friends.

not long later, mike came back and saw you sitting against the tree, rubbing the side of your head.

“are you okay?” mike asked, reaching down to help you stand.

“some little brats kicked a soccer ball at my head,” you groaned. standing up made you feel a bit dizzy.

mike gently brushed the part of your head that was hit, and you winced. “god, Y/N, today is just not your day. that’s definitely going to bruise, let’s get you home.”

you walked back to your apartment together, and rested until it was time to head to the theater. you packed a backpack with everything you might need and you and mike headed off to the subway station.

as you boarded the subway, you tripped over a small ledge on the edge of the subway and began to fall, but luckily, mike was in front of you and you caught yourself on his back. you hoped no one noticed, but as you looked around, the people already sitting down were staring, and an old man snickered at your misfortune.

mike maneuvered himself so he was behind you, guiding you to an open spot. “what was that about?”

you were on the verge of tears. “i’m so unlucky today.”

mike hesitated before grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight. “hey, just think, tonight is going to be a great show, you have family and friends in the audience,” mike said close to your ear. “soon enough, everything that’s happened today won’t matter.”

you nodded. “i just hope the show goes well.”

you both arrived at the theater, checking yourselves in and preparing to head to your separate dressing rooms. before you parted ways, mike pulled you aside and brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers. he could tell you were nervous.

“you’ll be just fine, Y/N. i’ll see you soon.”

in your dressing room, you unraveled the bandages over your fingers, and the skin was raw and tender. you weren’t exactly sure how to cover it for the show, but you dabbed some skin colored makeup onto it in hopes that it would be unnoticeable.

you looked at yourself in the mirror; you really did seem out of it. your head hurt, you fingers hurt, and your cold medicine was beginning to wear off. you reached into your backpack to find the medicine and you took it, hoping for some type of relief.

not long before the show started, you warmed up your voice as you got your costume on. there was a knock at the door and you yelled “come in!” to whoever it was. the door swung open and you found mike in his newsie/delancey costume and makeup. you always thought he looked so good in his costumes.

“how are you feeling?” mike asked, walking up to you. you were in your nun costume, so you didn’t seem as flattering as you would have liked.

“well, my fingers are sore, my head hurts, and my ego is bruised from almost falling earlier. but at least my medicine is working,” you said sarcastically. you tried to play it off as something funny, but inside you were a nervous, painful wreck. you were trying to fake it ‘til you made it, but mike saw right through you.

his blue eyes softened, and he rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “i know you’re nervous, and i know you are having a rough day. but breathe, and stay focused. you’re the most talented person i know. you can get through this.”

you closed your eyes and breathed out. he instantly made you feel better. the cold medicine helped to an extent, but mike was your ultimate cure for all ailments.

“will i see you after the show?” you asked. a lot of times, mike was able to leave the theater earlier than you after the show, and more often than not, you liked to chat with everyone and stick around for longer. you didn’t mind that mike never seemed to hang around much after the show.

“you’ve got friends and family to see, so i’ll probably head home right after. is that okay?” he asked gently, like he didn’t want to be the next thing to set you off.

you nodded understandingly. “of course, mike. i’ll see you during the show.”

mike smiled and patted your shoulder before heading out.

the show began, and you waited in the wings for your first scene. your first scene was during carrying the banner, where the three nuns feed the newsie boys.

as you went out on stage, your mind seemed to be in a blur. you felt like you couldn’t concentrate. the goal was for muscle memory to kick in, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. sadly, it didn’t, and during your part of carrying the banner, your voice cracked due to your sickness, and it felt sharp and out of place against the angelic voices of the other nuns.

your eyes widened, and you prayed nobody heard it despite it being insanely obvious. you fought the urge to cry onstage.

at the end of that segment, you headed off the stage and had no time to think about your mistake before hurriedly getting into your bowery beauty costume. you wanted to go home. you wanted to be with mike. at this point, you didn’t even care to see your friends and family from out of town. there was only one person that mattered.

you got into costume and looked at yourself in the mirror. you tried to pull yourself together, since you had friends and family in the audience that undoubtedly saw your screw up. you had to bring it back.

as your time approached for the scene in medda’s theater, you waited in the wings, trying to calm yourself down. you tried your hardest to ignore the pain on your head and your fingers.

finally, it was time to go onstage, and everything was going just fine. you didn’t want to get too confident, however, because you had a feeling if you did it would all come crashing down again.

you got through your bowery beauty scene in one piece, with no mishaps. you were feeling better mentally and physically.

you waited in your dressing room for curtain call, and as you walked out on stage to take your bow, you raised your arm and smiled into the crowd. as you brought your arm down to bow, your arm hit the back of your wig, and it slid down over your head. you quickly and nervously attempted to cover your mistake, and you slid the wig back up before walking to the back of the stage.

that seemed to be the last straw for you. a stray tear escaped your eye and you hoped no one saw. this was the worst day possible. you had friends and family in the audience and you wanted everything to be perfect, but it was far from it. you felt like crap, your head and fingers ached, and you were embarrassed. as you watched mike take his bow on stage, you wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him. you needed him by your side.

however, nothing was ever that easy, and you still had to get out of makeup and costume and talk with the people that came to see you all while holding back the tears that were inevitably going to come out.

you took off your costume as fast as possible, avoiding conversations with your other cast mates at all costs. there was only one that you needed.

you met your friends and family by the stage door, and they congratulated you on your performance despite it being subpar. you tried to keep the conversations to the minimum. when you finally felt like you were on the verge of a full fledged breakdown, you excused yourself, telling them you were tired and needed to go home. you thanked them for coming before turning to the direction of the station and never looking back.

on your ride home, you kept your mind free of thoughts in order to keep the intrusive ones away. you knew if you kept thinking about what went wrong, you’d go crazy.

finally, at last, you arrived at your apartment and unlocked the door. mike was sitting on the couch, practically ready to doze off.

“mike, you could have gone to bed,” you said quietly.

he stared at you like that was a dumb thing to even consider. “i was waiting for you to get home.”

at that moment, you felt your heart melt. throughout everything that had happened, mike was your one constant. he was the calm within the storm of events that unfolded throughout the day.

you broke down, and began to cry. mike sat up on the couch and held out his arms. “oh, sweetheart, come here.”

you obliged, and sat down on the couch next to him. almost instinctively, you leaned into his body, resting your head on his chest. he wrapped both of his arms around you comfortingly, and he placed his hand on the side of your head. as you laid in his arms, you just cried.

“i wanted everything to be perfect today. first i got sick, then i burnt myself, then i hit my head, and then i tripped on the subway,” you swallowed, trying to talk clearly despite the tears. “a-and the one thing i could control, the one thing i could save, i fumbled. i messed up twice on stage.”

mike rubbed your head gently. “i know, Y/N, i’m sorry. i know how important this was. if it makes you feel any better, i barely noticed your mistakes.”

“i-i’m not sure how,” you said, sniffling. “they were pretty bad. i’m just…embarrassed.”

mike sat up, causing you to come with him. part of you was sad that you had to leave the comfy position you were in. mike looked into your eyes briefly before lightly placing his hands on either side of your face.

“Y/N, we’re performers. we make mistakes. trust me, there’s so many people even in our company that have made worse mistakes. take me, for example,” mike started, breaking eye contact briefly. “remember when i got my leg stuck in a chair during king of new york?”

you giggled. “y-yeah, i do. you turned so red.”

mike smiled. “there’s that signature Y/N smile again.”

you blushed, and mike used his thumbs to brush away stray tears. he removed his hands from your face and held your hands. “we all have off days. you’re the strongest person i know, and you got through today like a champ. you may not be happy with yourself, but i’m always proud of you, mistakes and all. do you understand?”

when you looked down, you noticed he was rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs. “yeah, mike. thank you, genuinely. if it weren’t for your help today, i probably would have exploded.”

mike grinned, and you went back to your position on the couch in his arms. to you, it felt like nothing mattered and nothing would matter ever again. all you could see in that moment was you and him.

mike laughed. “if it weren’t for me, your fingers wouldn’t be sore right now.”

[everythingpresley]

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 25 (Part 2)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

    ||     Word Count: 3,763

Author's note:

Thank you so much for reading this story and supporting it, it really meant the world to me. I find it hard to believe that it’s officially done but Jess and Elvis and this story will always have a special place in my heart. 

I really don’t know how to thank all of you for your constant support and love. Thank you also for being patient as these two navigate their way to each other. 

This is the first story I’ve ever fully finished and it’s making me quiet emotional thinking about never writing Jess and Elvis together again but maybe I might write an Epilogue or something along the way. 

Again, thank you so much!

Masterlist

Make sure to read Part 1

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 25 (Part 2)

Jess’ POV

The next few days were pure bliss between Elvis and me. We rarely left each other’s sides even when he had to leave for tour during the upcoming week. He forced me to join him on tour, not wanting to spend a week away from me so I agreed to join him and the guys. 

I made the crazy decision to move without talking to Elvis but I needed to prove to him how much I loved him and that I wanted this to work. When I told Grace what I was planning to do, she supported me fully. So I took three full days to quit my job without a two week notice since I had a good relationship with my boss. I then sold most of my big furniture and packed up my things and left for Memphis. I was meant to land earlier in the day to have the time to talk to Elvis but I got there just in time to go over to Grace and Jerry’s place and get changed for the baby shower. 

I was so thankful for the craziness that took over me because we wouldn’t be here right now, cuddled up in bed at Graceland after getting back from the two-stop tour. 

I loved this man so much. We’re finally here. Together. And I was over the moon. 

He was asleep on my pillow, right next to me. Him sleeping next to me rather than on top of me was definitely a rarity. He had his arm thrown over my stomach, his head almost on my shoulder. 

I shuffled away from him slightly to fully look down and admire him. I moved some of his hair away from his face, his hair was getting longer. I preferred it shorter on him but he still looked super cute with the longer hair. 

I don’t think I’ll ever get tried of staring at his beautiful face. His dark, long lashed fanned over his high cheek bones, hiding away his beautiful ocean eyes. His mouth was slightly open as he snored softly. 

I leaned down and kissed his lips gently, before planting kisses all over his face. His breathing changed as I did, his lips turning up into a smile but his eyes remained closed. 

He took me by surprise when he unexpectedly wrapped his arms around my waist and flipped us so that he was on top of me, planting wet, slobbery kisses all over my face. 

I giggled and pushed against his chest “Elvis!”

“What?” he asked, continuing to kiss me all over my face “You don't want me to kiss you?”

“No.” I giggled. 

“You don’t?” He gasped, looking at me with wide eyes.

“No!” I laughed “I want you to kiss me!”

“Good.” He frowned mockingly before leaning back down to kiss me once again. 

He pulled away right as he was about to kiss me and raised his brow at me “Tell me the magic words first.”

“Please?” I mocked, knowing what he wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at me and poked my waist making me jerk away from him and giggle “Say it!”

“I love you, Elvis.”

He grinned and leaned down to kiss me but I dodged his kiss “Where are my magic words?” I asked him.

“Yes, I will fuck you Jess.” Elvis smirked.

I laughed and smacked his chest “Asshole.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He said and kissed me. 

“Can we go on the horses today?” I asked, leaning against the bathroom door frame dressed in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, looking at Elvis as he stood in his robe, fixing his hair. 

Elvis looked at me through the mirror “Hell no.”

“Please.” I whined, walking forward and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. 

“No, Jess. Please let’s not.” He frowned, continuing to fix his hair. 

I pouted, looking at him through the mirror. He did a double take and rolled his eyes “We can go feed them.”

“Can I sit on one?” I asked “Just sit and you can guide the horse.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes “Fine but only for a few minutes.”

“Yay!” I jumped up and kissed his cheek “I’ll see you at 4, I’m gonna go to the diner and catch up with Janice.” 

“Love you.” He blew me a kiss.

“Love you too!” I called as I walked out of the room.

It was nice to catch up with Janice, we of course did not lose touch while I was in New York. I made sure to call her every now and then and sometimes she would call me so we didn’t have much to catch up on except for the recent events which is I’m finally back in Memphis. Indefinitely. With Elvis, officially and with pure happiness. 

Janice was happy for me as well as my family. Ella and Jack threw a “I knew it!” once I told them about Elvis and me but my parents were over the moon. They adored Elvis and were just happy for us. 

I got home and rushed up the stairs to our room, taking two steps at a time. I had promised Elvis I would be home by 4 and it was already 4:30.

“There you are!”

“Hey! I’m so sorry I’m late. Thanks for waiting for me.” I said and quickly kissed his cheek, dashing into the closet to change into a sundress with a brown cowboy hat and brown cowboy boots to match Elvis who was already dressed in a blue button down, black pants and a brown cowboy hat and brown cowboy boots. The closet was fully rearranged for me, Elvis had to put lots of his old clothes that he rarely wears upstairs in the attic to make some room for my clothes and with the constant moving, I didn’t really have a lot of clothes with me. 

“Let’s go.” I said once I stepped out of the closet. 

Elvis outstretched his hand out for me to take. I smiled and took his hand, we walked together to the stables. 

I grinned when I spotted Rising sun walking around and eating the grass, I dropped Elvis’ hand and ran towards him.

“Wear a helmet!” Elvis called after me. 

I huffed and rushed towards the stables to grab a helmet then I walked over to Sun and Elvis who was already standing there, scratching Rising sun while smiling happily. I noticed Elvis’ knee shake slightly, which only happened when he was nervous or scared. I didn't know it scared him that much for me to get back on a horse. 

I hung my hat on the fence and wore the helmet, snapping it on. 

Elvis wrapped his hands around my waist and hoisted me up on the horse “You didn't need to do that.” I chuckled.

“Have you seen how small you are?” He rolled his eyes “Okay! Listen up!”

“I’m listening.” I replied.

“Hold. On. Tight.” Elvis said sternly “Let me see.”

I gripped the reigns on Rising Sun. 

“Tighter.” Elvis grumbled. 

I tightened my hold, not wanting to argue with him because I knew how tough it was for him to see me on a horse again. 

Elvis gripped the reigns and started walking me around. 

“You havin fun?” he smiled looking at me. 

“Yes!” I giggled. 

“Good.” 

Elvis walked me around in circles for a few minutes before he looked towards the sun “The sun will start to set soon. Come on, I have something planned for us.”

“Okay.” I replied and let him help me jump down. Elvis walked Sun into his stall while I hung up my helmet and put on my hat back on my head. 

Elvis took my hand in his once again and walked me towards the tree where we always sat. As we got closer I noticed a little blanket set under the tree with a little basket, some candles surrounded the blanket.

“What’s this?” I asked with a grin on my face.

“Picnics have always been our thing so I decided to have our first date back together, here, at our little spot.” Elvis said looking at me with a sweet smile.

“Elvis. This is so cute!” I pecked his lips before sitting on the blanket. 

Elvis sat opposite of me and pulled the basket closer to him “I made us my famous peanut butter and banana sandwiches, some fruits and Pepsi’s of course.”

“Of course.” I chuckled, my heart warmed at the fact that he made those peanut butter and banana sandwiches and not Martha “Thank you, that’s so sweet.”

He handed me my sandwich and we ate as the sun became bright orange. 

“You look so damn beautiful.” He sighed, smiling softly.

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” I asked him, placing my sandwich on the paper plate and inched forward on my knees, cupping his cheek to kiss his lips “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiled against my lips. 

We ate for a while, our sandwiches long gone before Elvis suddenly sprang on his feet “The sun is setting too fast.” he said in a panicked voice.

“Okay?” I asked, confused. 

Elvis stretched his hand out to me “Come here.” 

I took his hand and let him help me up. He gulped and took both of my hands in his. 

“Jess-” He started 

“Yes?” I asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

He chuckled and shook his head at me “I love you so much, I never ever ever thought it would be possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

I gulped at his words, is this what I think this is? Or is he just letting me know how much he loves me?

“I don’t want to waste anymore time. I spent the first two years of you working for me falling deeply and madly in love with you and it hasn’t stopped. I fall in love with you more and more everyday.” He said, his voice cracking slightly and I could see the tears forming in his eyes. My own eyes also blurry with tears, my lower lip started to tremble. 

He pulled back and reached into the basket and pulled out a ring box. He opened it the ring box and got down on one knee “Jessica Anderson, will you marry me? Will you let me be your cowboy husband and you’ll be my cowgirl wife?” He asked with a smile on his face and a tear rolling down his cheek.

I couldn’t speak, I could feel a lump forming in my throat, tears were already rolling down my face. I nodded excitedly with a huge grin on my face.

“Yes?” He asked, with wide eyes.

“Yes!” 

He laughed and got up on his feet. I cupped both of his cheeks and kissed him, he grinned against my lips, one arm wrapped around my waist while his other hand still held the ring box.

“Wait, let me put the ring on your finger.” He said and pulled away from me to slide the ring on my ring finger. 

“Wow.” I inspected the ring closer and it was a beautiful Emerald stone in the middle with little tiny diamonds around it, making it look like a green flower “Elvis, this is so beautiful.”

“I saw it when I was ring shopping for myself a while back and the Emerald reminded me of your eyes.” 

My lower lip trembled again, I cupped his cheeks and kissed him once again.

“I love you so much, Elvis.” I whispered against his lips. 

“I love you too, baby.” He grinned happily. 

“You’ll be my cowboy husband?” I asked him as we cuddled under the tree, watching the sunset. He had his arms wrapped around me from behind, I was leaning back against him. 

“Yes.” He chuckled and kissed my shoulder.

“I can’t believe you remember when I said that.” That felt like years ago, lots happened since then. 

“I remember everything you ever told me.” 

I turned my head and pecked his lips. I love him so much and couldn't wait to see him as a my husband and the father of my kids. 

Elvis reached for the picnic basket and pulled out his favorite camera “Let’s take a picture.”

He outstretched his arm out, pointing the camera at us with my hand raised, showing off the ring as he kissed my cheek. He also took another one of us kissing. 

The next two months flew by and soon our wedding was only a few days away. Elvis didn't want to wait, he wanted us to get married as fast as possible and honestly I didn’t mind it, I didn’t care about the when and where, all I knew is I wanted to be married to this man. As long as he was the one I was walking down the isle to, that’s all that mattered to me. 

We had some tiffs with The Colonel regarding the wedding. He wanted it to be filmed for the public, obviously any possible way to make more money but I didn’t want that. I wanted a small, intimate, private wedding. Something special just to Elvis and me. The Colonel made it very obvious how much he despised that I was marrying Elvis, he also thought this would ruin Elvis’ image as being available. 

I was upstairs when I heard something crash in the living room, I rushed down the stairs to see Elvis getting in The Colonel’s face and a broken chair was on the side of the living room. 

“Elvis.” I said, unsure if I should interfere. I’ve never seen him get mad at The Colonel, he really respected him and believed The Colonel only wanted what’s best for him. 

“Jess, go.” He replied, his eyes still on The Colonel, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“Elvis!” Vernon yelled. 

I quickly walked to him and pulled on his arm. 

“This girl is going to ruin everything we’ve ever worked for.” The Colonel said, pointing at me without sparing me a single glance. 

“Ignore him.” I whispered and tightened my hold on his arm.

“Get out of my house.” Elvis said, his jaw clenched tight. He took my hand and walked towards the stairs, pulling me along with him. 

Elvis let go of my hand once we were in our bedroom and started pacing and running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“What did he say?” I asked, carefully gauging his reaction.

“He was trying to get me to breakup with you.” He practically growled. I knew that wasn’t happening and I already knew how much The Colonel despised me so it was no news to me that he was trying to come between me and Elvis.

“I need to ask you a question.”

“What?” I asked him.

“Why do you hate him so much? Since day 1, you couldn't stand him.” Elvis replied. 

“He takes advantage of you.” I replied in all honesty “He doesn't deserve you, I think you deserve a better manager.”

Elvis scoffed and shook his head “He’s the reason why I’m here right now. I owe him my career.” 

I gulped, I know that Elvis doesn't like when someone disagrees with him but I needed to be honest. 

“I know.” I sighed “Doesn't mean you don’t deserve better.”

Elvis sighed and pulled me into his embrace “Let’s just focus on us right now. We’re getting married in a few days and that’s all that matters.”

“Yes.” I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist “We’re getting married.” I said looking up at him.

“I know.” He looked at me with a small, soft smile “You’re gonna be Jessica Presley.”

“Actually I think Elvis Anderson sounds better.” I replied with a cheeky smile.

Elvis smirked and tickled my waist. I shrieked and jumped back. 

Our wedding was currently being held at Graceland’s backyard. We had two areas decorated, one for the ceremony that was held before sunset and the reception in a huge tent after sunset. The ceremony was very simple, we had white chairs lined up and a threshold at the end. I was buzzing the entire day. 

My bridesmaids consisted of Ella, my sister, Janice and Grace. Elvis’ groomsmen were Joe Esposito, Jerry and Charlie. We were stationed in the guest bedroom right next to Elvis and I’s bedroom. We goofed around, took lots of pictures and got our makeup and hair done. For some reason I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be, I just felt super at ease. 

My dress was so beautiful, Grace and Janice helped me pick it out. It was a long sleeve dress with a slightly open back and a long train but it was very sheer so we had to custom add a skin tone piece of material underneath. The dress also had crystals and embroidery all over. It was simple and beautiful. I couldn't wait to show Elvis. 

I was standing at the end of the isle when the music started playing. Elvis turned his head from where he stood at the end of the isle with his groomsmen and my bridesmaids. I smiled under my vail and tightened my hold on my father’s arm who was walking me down the isle. Elvis smiled but I could see his lip quiver. 

Oh he looks so handsome in his black tuxedo with paisley silk brocade and a bowtie. He looked so good. 

 My father kissed my cheek and handed me over to Elvis, his hand was slightly shaking and he had tears in his eyes despite the huge smile on his face. 

I gripped his hand, my own hand shaking as well. He reached for my vail and tossed it over my head, revealing my face “Woah.” He whispered, his eyes widening slightly as his eyes quickly roamed my face.

We grinned at each other, both of us getting very emotional. 

“Hi handsome.” I whispered to him.

“Hi beautiful.” He whispered back. 

The vows were a blur, we didn’t write our own we just repeated what the minister said. Our eyes never left one another, it was like we were in our own little bubble. 

“Do you Elvis Presley take Jessica to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The minister asked.

“I do.” He nodded, with a huge grin on his face.

“And do you Jessica Anderson take Elvis to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

“I do.” I replied, my grin matching Elvis’

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Elvis gripped my waist with one hand and cupped my cheek with the other, smashing his lips on mine and tipping me backwards as everyone cheered. 

We danced the night away, the tent was covered in twinkling lights and beautiful white tulips on the tables. Elvis couldn’t keep his hands off of my backless dress. 

“I love how backless this is.” he whispered in my ear, his hands caressing my exposed back as we slow danced once again. 

“I knew you would.” I giggled “You loved the backless sundress I wore when we went to the honky tonk the first time.” 

Elvis laughed and kissed my cheek. 

“Mr and Mrs. Presley! Turn around let me take a picture of you two!” Grace yelled over the music. 

I turned around in Elvis’ arms, he stayed behind me, his arms fully around me as we smiled for Grace’s picture. We had a camera guy to film everything just for us. Thank god The Colonel was only there for the ceremony and left after we said our I dos. Vernon danced with me with a huge smile on his face and thanked me for making Elvis so happy which made me tear up because that’s my only goal, it is to always make sure Elvis is happy.

Elvis started to kiss my shoulder and up my neck. He placed a hand on my chin and turned my face towards him and kissed my lips. His hands trailed up my stomach and almost was about to cup my breasts when I quickly pulled his hands down. 

“Wow there.” I laughed.

“Oops.” He laughed.

“You forgot you weren't alone?” Grace laughed.

“I got lost in the moment.” Elvis replied, shoving his face in my neck like a shy little kid trying to hide. Grace and I both laughed at him before she left us to be on our own.

While everyone was dancing and drinking, Elvis and I snuck out of the tent and headed to our tree. We could still hear the music so we danced together for a while.

“Mrs. Presley?” Elvis said.

“Yes, husband?” I asked. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?” he looked at me with shinning eyes with happiness and a soft smile. 

“Several times, yes.” I chuckled, cupping his cheek.

“And I’ll keep reminding you, Mrs. Presley.” 

“I love you.” I caressed his cheek.

“I love you more. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Me too Elvis. I’m so glad Ella was denied her scholarship.” I chuckled but I was dead serious because I wouldn’t have taken this job and I wouldn’t have fallen for Elvis. 

Elvis shook his head no “I believe we would’ve met either way. I believe we’re destined to be together and our souls would’ve found another way to meet.”

My lip quivered for the millionth time today, my eyes becoming blurry with tears “I do too.” I whispered. 

My hair which was previously wrapped up in a low bun was out of the bun and fully cascading down my shoulders. Elvis reached forward and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear “I’m taking a break for a while.” He whispered. 

“What?” I asked, frowning in confusion. 

“I’m taking a break and we’re gonna travel to wherever it is you wanna go to.” He replied. 

“Really?” I asked, letting out an audible breath. Elvis never takes long breaks, The Colonel loves to work him to the bone “What about The Colonel?”

“I don’t care what The Colonel thinks. I wanna travel the world with my girl. Just me and you.” He smiled softly. 

My smile matched his, I reached up and combed his hair away from his face “I love you so much Mr Presley.”

“I love you more Mrs. Presley.”  he whispered, looking down at me with his eyes shinning brightly and a small, happy and content smile. 

THE END

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[fandomgirlz01]

Don’t Leave Me Pt. 1

Marcus Pike X Reader

Imagine on my fandom instagram?: No

Prompt?: No

Request?: No

Requested prompt?: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,153

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here {Coming Soon}.

Post Date: May 28th 2023

Post Time: 3:16 pm

Summary: Together Marcus and the reader lead their team through a case. They get ambushed by part of Marcus’ past which makes the reader start to question things, but something goes wrong while they're out in the field. 

Third Person Pov:

After the whole Teresa thing and moving to D.C., Marcus had tried so hard not to get into other relationships, but then he met y/n. It was only about three weeks after everything and he’d still been feeling heartbroken– but who wouldn’t when a relationship fails as bad as it did? He’d walked into work that morning and the day went as normal as usual, until later when he was getting ready to go home. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday, when in reality it’s now been almost four years. He had just finished packing up his bag, getting ready to turn out the light on his desk as his phone went off. It was his boss asking for him to come to his office. 

Marcus’ Pov: *Flashback* 

“Marcus, would you please come to my office? I have something important to discuss with you,” my boss's voice floods over the phone and I sigh as I move my hand from the lamp to the phone. 

“I’ll be right there, sir,” I promise him as I hold down the button that lets me reply to him before letting go. 

I wait a moment to see if there’s any response, but it stays quiet. I grab my bag, switch off the light on my desk, and start to walk to my boss’s office. 

I take the elevator to his floor, walk down a few halls, then start to walk up to the door and go to open it. 

“Hold on, Marcus. Mr. Hudson is in a meeting,” Destiny, his secretary, stops me in my tracks. 

“Oh really? He called me in to see him,” I tell her and she shakes her head, smiling at me. 

“He did? He didn’t inform me. Hold on, let me page him and see,” she tells me. I nod and put my hands in my pockets. 

“Mr. Hudson?” she questions as she presses the page button down. 

“What is it, Destiny?” he responds and she looks back up at me. 

“Marcus is here. I wasn’t too sure if you wanted me to send him in or not,” she replies and there’s a pause as she waits. 

“Yes. Yes. Send him in,” he responds before we can hear him release the page button. 

“Ok, Marcus, you heard him. Go right on in,” she tells me as she waves me off to the door. 

“Ok. Thanks,” I reply before taking a step forward and opening the door. 

I pop my head in and leave a little knock on the door. Mr. Hudson pauses as he looks away from someone who’s sitting in the right chair in front of his desk. 

“Ahh, Marcus. Come in, come in. Take a seat,” he tells me as he motions to the left chair. 

“Uhh, ok. Is there something wrong, sir?” I ask him and he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Nothing's wrong, my boy. I just wanted to introduce you to your new partner. She just landed half an hour ago and will be starting on with you tomorrow,” he informs and I nod, even though I’m very shocked. 

“Y/n, this is Marcus, Marcus, this is y/n. Your new partner,” Mr. Hudson introduces us.

I am immediately in awe when I see the girl sitting beside me. She smiles and says something before holding her hand out to me. I shake out of my daze and give her a confused look. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask and she lets out a giggle that sounds heavenly to my ears, making it easily become my new favorite melody.

“I said, hi. I’m y/n,” she reiterates and I again shake my head. 

“Right. I’m sorry, I’m Marcus. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve just had a really long day,” I reply as I reach out and shake her hand. 

“It’s ok. Really, I get it,” she promises me with a soft smile that makes my hands feel a little clammy, but I ignore it and remember my pact I made with myself when moving here. 

“Don’t take this as an insult,” I comment as I take a quick look at y/n and she shakes her head. “But sir, why do I need a partner? I thought we said I wouldn’t need to have one. That I’d be head of department,” I reiterate what we talked about before my move. 

“We did, but I just thought that you have so much to do that it could possibly take some off of your back. Don’t worry you're still head, she’s just here to take a little pressure off,” he explains as he gestures to her and I shake my head in denial. 

“There’s not too much for me to do,” I petulantly argue even when I know he’s right. 

“Marcus, my boy… not to add insult to injury, but you look tired and overwhelmed. You’ve only been here three weeks and you’re already behind,” he explains, pausing to give me a quick questioning look. 

“I’m not overwhelmed…” I again argue and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“Look, Marcus. You are and I see that. This is your new partner and that’s final. She’s only here to help you. Came just to do that. Please let her help you,” he begs me and I sigh reluctantly. 

“Ok. I guess,” I agree and Mr. Hudson grins. 

“Great! She starts tomorrow morning. You’ll be sharing an office, so don’t be surprised if there’s an extra desk in there in the morning,” he adds on and I see y/n smile an award-winning smile. 

“I’m excited to get started, sir. Thank you so much for the opportunity. I won’t let you down,” she promises him and I frown at the way she says it. 

It’s almost like she’s making a point known as she says it and he just hums while nodding. She quickly goes to get up, but Mr. Hudson stops her by holding his hand out. 

“Hold on, y/n, we’re not done here. Marcus, you can go,” he informs me and I nod before getting up. 

“It was so nice to meet you, Marcus. I hope we can grow a good friendship,” she sweetly tells me and I can’t help but smile at her. 

“It was nice meeting you too, y/n. Me too, you seem sweet. I’m sure we’ll get along great. See you tomorrow,” I reply warmly and she smiles up at me, making my stomach do flips. I quickly push the feeling aside as I so desperately try not to ruin the pact I made with myself after moving here. 

~End of Flashback~ 

Marcus’ Pov:

I sit leaning back in my office chair as we work on the case we’ve been vigorously working on for almost a week. After being in the office for a few hours I can’t help but let my thoughts wander. I think over the last four years and I smile when y/n —who’s now my girlfriend— lets out a sigh while rubbing her face. 

After she became my partner, it took a while for us to get to know one another —because I so obviously closed myself off after Teresa— but eventually y/n got me to open up, making us become closer and closer until finally I asked her out. She got me to open up in ways I never had before. I eventually told her all about Teresa and we both agreed to take things slowly. Never did I imagine this is where we’d be almost four years later. 

“Knock, knock,” Ezra Bradford, our tech person, announces as she stands in the door frame. She pops her head in, breaking me out of my daze down memory lane. 

“What’s up, Ez?” I ask as and y/n and I look up at her.  

“We caught the money trail. We found them…” she tells us and I look at y/n, who looks at me in almost excitement. 

“Well, where does it lead to?” Y/n asks and Ezra takes a hesitant pause. 

“Well, that’s the thing. It leads back to Texas,” Ezra hesitantly tells us and y/n's excitement quickly fades away. 

“Welp, I guess this means we’re going to Texas,” I point out with a shrug and y/n sighs. 

“Ok. We’re going to Texas. Marc, do you wanna contact them? Or should I?” Y/n asks me and I shrug as I stand from my chair, stretching out a bit. 

“Either way. Come on, I’ll drive,” I tell her as I reach forward and grab the keys off her desk. 

She lazily stands up, looking like the epitome of tired and lets out an exhausted huff. I chuckle before pulling her into my side. We walk out of the room, coming to a stop just in the hall of the office we share before closing the door up and locking it. I then turn and pull y/n back into my side, swaying with her lightly as I look back at Ezra over y/n’s shoulder. 

“You can tell the boss, yeah?” I ask Ezra, giving her a questioning look and she nods. 

“Yeah. I’ll have him get the jet ready for you too,” Ezra agrees with a firm nod before pushing her glasses up. 

“Can you send the presentation to me, please, Ezra?” Y/n asks her and Ezra nods in agreement again. 

“Sleepy?” I ask as I look down at y/n, who’s now cuddled into my side and she nods tiredly as she lets out a very small yawn. 

“It’s been a very long week,” she bemoans and I agree with a soft hum as I leave a kiss at her temple. 

“Well, you can sleep on the plane,” I tell her and she nods again as she lets out a very quiet hum of agreement. 

“Alright, we’ll hopefully see you in a few days, Ez,” I tell her as I look back up at her over y/n’s shoulder again and she nods. 

“Go get the bad guys. I can send over whatever information you guys need to Texas’ tech guy. Just say the words and I’ll do it,” she promises and with that, she gives us a small goodbye and scurries off. 

“I’ll contact Abbott right now,” Y/n comments, using her phone to send a message to Abbott as she continues to tiredly walk beside me. 

We start down the first hall of many halls we have to go down to get to the car garage as I guide —more like pull— y/n with me. We walk a few more minutes before coming up to the parking garage, then walk the four rows of vehicles and find our SUV that we share. Her phone pings as I unlock the doors and she gets into her seat while looking at it. 

“Abbott says they’ll be happy to help. He’ll inform the team and we can brief them when we get there,” she informs me and I nod as I start the car. 

“Babe. You want your sunglasses?” she asks me as she holds them up and I turn with a smile at her as she gracefully smirks at me. 

“You know me better than myself,” I tell her and she smiles, giggling softly and putting her head against the headrest. She gives me an endearing look that makes me grin back at her. 

“Of course. I mean, we have been partners for almost four years now…” she jokingly rolls her eyes and I snicker at her. 

“And you’ve been more then my partner since I met you,” I tell her with a soft look, crossing my features.

“Awe, Marc. That’s so sweet, babe. You’ve been so much more to me too. I love you,” she replies with a grin that makes my heart soar. 

“I love you too, baby,” I parrot her softly as I lean across the center console and give her a peck on the lips. 

“Go bags are in the back, right?” she asks me after I pull away and I nod as I finally take my sunglasses from her hand. 

“Ok. Well, let’s get this show on the road then,” she says jokingly and I chuckle. 

I shake my head as I turn and start the SUV. Once it’s up and running, I make quick work of pulling out of our spot before driving us out of the parking garage. I drive for a while before finally pulling up to the private FBI airport and park. 

After parking, I look over at y/n to see that she’s asleep. I smile fondly before getting out of the car and going around to her side. I open her door and lightly rub her leg. 

“Hmmm, Marc, don't wake me, not yet,” she whispers out and I chuckle, shaking my head. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you have to. We have to get on the Jet, then you can go right back to sleep,” I tell her and she groans, shaking her head. 

“Come on, honey. Just think of it. The faster you get on the plane, the faster we can try my favorite breakfast place in Texas. You know the one I’ve told you all about?” I bargain with her and she groans again. 

“You mean the one with the awesome pancakes?” she asks softly and I nod. 

“Yup. The one with all the different pancake flavors. I bet you’ll end up with the banana blueberry,” I exaggerate while bouncing my eyebrows at her. 

Intrigued, she sits up and looks down at me, raising an eyebrow. I laugh and help her out of the car.

“Marcus Mario Pike, the hell is so funny?” she asks with a scowl that only makes me laugh a little harder. 

“Nothing, honey. Nothing at all,” I tell her as I reach up and smooth out her hair for her. 

“Awe, I had sleepy head again, didn’t I?” she asks with a pout as I pull my hand back with a soft smile crossing my face. 

“Yes you did, but I find it rather cute,” I respond and she huffs, crossing her arms. 

“Cute, my butt. Marcus, I am not cute when my hair is all frizzy and sticking up in the air,” she argues as I walk to the back of the SUV and open the trunk with her trailing after me. 

“Oh, but sweetheart, that is where you are dead wrong,” I argue back as I pull our go bags out of the back before closing the trunk. 

“I really don’t get how you see my half-dead asleep looks cute,” she snorts out in amusement and I smile as we both turn to start towards the jet. 

“I find everything about you cute, sweetheart. Just accept that nothing about you is even remotely close to anything else in my eyes,” I tell her and she stops to  scoff, shaking her head as she crosses her arms. 

“I will never understand you, Marcus,” she huffs and I smile, chuckling before pulling her into my side as I leave a kiss on the side of her forehead. 

“Yes. But you love me and as you always point out, always will,” I joke with her as we start walking towards the jet now. 

“Well, you got me there. I have no comeback for that one,” she admits and I burst out laughing as we finally come up to the jet. 

“Sir. Ma’am,” the pilot smiles before stepping aside and gesturing to the open jet door. 

“After you, ma’am,” he says with a flirty smile directed at y/n and I feel red hot anger take over, but shove it down. 

“Thank you. Marc, baby, sit with me?” she asks as she turns to me and I smile. 

“Of course, babe. I’ll always sit next to you,” I tell her and she grins, almost beaming as she pulls me into the jet. 

She pulls me in and I put our go packs down as she picks a place to sit before pulling me down in the chair next to her. She then cuddles up to me and I wrap my arm around her shoulder as the pilot now walks in. 

“Ok. I’m going to get started with take off. All I ask is that you two be buckled for the ascent, and then when we’re in the air you can roam around all you want,” the pilot explains as if we haven’t done this before, but I just nod in agreement to appease him. 

“Ok. I hope you enjoy the flight,” he says with a grimace as he slowly backs away before turning around and disappearing behind the door of the cockpit. 

“Well, that was awkward…” y/n whispers and I let out another laugh as I rub her arm. 

“Yes, it was,” I agree with her and she hums sleepily. 

“I love you Marcus, don’t you forget it. It’s no one else for me,” she tells me as she nuzzles onto my neck, making me chuckle as it tickles, but I gladly welcome it. 

“And I love you too, sweetheart. It’s no one else for me either,” I parrot her and she smiles softly as she pulls the blanket off the back of the chair. 

“I’m going to get some sleep. You should too, babe,” she tells me as she closes her eyes and I snuggle her into my side. 

“I think I may just do that,” I hum in agreement as sleep slowly starts to take me over. 

I wake up and look around with my eyes squinted in confusion for a moment, before fully remembering where I am. I look at the clock that’s up on the wall and deduce that I only slept for an hour out of the three hour flight. I rub at my tired eyes with my free hand before reaching into my pocket and pulling my phone out. 

Y/n subconsciously snuggles farther into my side, making me smile as I look down at her. I lightly rub her arm for a moment, hoping it’ll lull her back into a deeper sleep before turning back to my phone. I use my phone for a while before I get pulled out of my thoughts when the pilot's door opens. 

“I just wanted to inform you that we are about to land in Texas,” he tells me and I nod at him. 

“Thank you,” I reply to him and he nods once more before heading back to the cockpit. 

I turn my head to look back at y/n, who still sleeps soundly against my side. I move my shoulder a bit, making it nudge her and she groans before just going back to sleep. I softly nudge her again and she groans again before frowning. 

“Marc, what?” she mutters out in a grumpy tone, making me smile. 

“I hate to do this to you again, sweetheart, but we’re about to land,” I tell her softly and she groans as she finally opens her eyes. 

“Man. I’m so tired lately. Don’t know why,” she comments as she sits up. 

“I know. After this case, we should take some time off. Get you rested up,” I propose and she hums softly as she gives me a tired look. 

“That sounds nice, babe,” she agrees and I smile softly at her. 

I quickly pull her into my side again and leave a kiss on her forehead before she nuzzles into my neck. We stay cuddled up until we’ve fully landed and stand up. I grab our go packs as the door to the jet opens. 

Together we walk off the jet and to the car they have waiting for us. I grab the keys from the guy who holds them out for me and give him a thank you as I slap his shoulder. He gives me a nod and smile before walking off. 

I get into the driver's seat and y/n already sits in the passenger seat. She gives me a huge smile before I start the car up. 

“Do you remember the way there or do you want me to put it in the navi?” Y/n asks me and I shake my head as I turn the blinker on to pull out of the airport parking lot. 

“I think I got it, babe. Thanks, though,” I tell her and she nods before sitting back in her seat. 

“I’ll get the briefing presentation loading up. Ezra should have sent it over,” y/n tells me as she pulls her laptop out. 

“I’m sure she did. Ezra’s very thorough,” I add and she grins. 

“That she is,” she agrees with me. 

I drive for a while longer and before I know it, I’m pulling into the parking garage of my old work office. I pull into the parking lot and park before turning the car off. Y/n quickly unbuckles and starts getting out of the car. 

I, however, freeze as I realize who I’m going to have to see when I walk in. Y/n seems to notice that I’m not getting out and opens her door again. She slides back in and gently puts a hand on my bicep, but it still makes me jump as it pulls me out of my daze. 

“Marcus, are you okay? If you can’t do this, I can handle it. You go get the hotel that I’m sure we’re going to need,” she tells me and I shake my head. 

“No. I’m not leaving you alone to deal with my ex-fiancé,” I inform her and she smiles softly at me. 

“Marcus. If you can’t go in, that’s okay, baby. I can do it. It’d be hard, but I’m sure I’d be fine,” she again tries and I shake my head again. 

“No. No. I just needed a moment. I’m okay. I’ll come in with you,” I promise her and she smiles. 

“Ok. If you’re really sure, my love. Let’s go,” she agrees with a soft nod before getting back out of the car. 

I sigh once at the thought of how lucky I have gotten and shake my head before getting out of the car myself. I meet her around the back of the car and open the trunk door. I pull my go bag out and she grabs hers before putting it on her shoulder as I do mine. 

She goes around the car on her side and heads for the building with me right behind her. She stops at the front of the car to look at the building before looking at me. 

“We do this together, yeah?” she asks me as she holds her hand out for mine. 

“Together,” I agree with a smile as I grab her hand. 

With one last smile from her, we walk through the door. The door monitor stands when he sees us as he asks for IDs and we both pull them out. He looks over them for a second before stepping to the side and nodding as he motions for us to move on. 

We walk farther in and soon I’m walking down familiar hallways. I show y/n where to go as we hit the first floor. 

“Did Abbott tell you where he was meeting us or where to meet up with him?” I ask her as we walk and she turns to look at me. 

“He said to come to his office and he’ll do the rest from there. Said you’d know where to go?” she tells me and I nod. 

“Yup, I know exactly where it is. Maybe we’ll get lucky and not run into anyone on the way,” I respond to her and she smiles, squeezing my hand. 

I then lead her through the building and to the elevator. I press the button to Abbott’s floor and lean back against the rail. She cuddles into my side and I put my arm around her. 

Once the elevator comes to a stop, we wait a moment for the doors to open. After they do, we walk through them and into the big room. We look around all the desks, but nobody seems to look up so I just quickly start to lead her down the hall to Abbott’s office. 

“This place is so huge. Definitely more beautiful than our office. I see why you liked working here,” y/n comments as she looks around while we walk. 

We soon come up to Abbott’s door and I leave a knock on it. We wait just a few minutes before we hear him tell us to come in. With one last squeeze of y/n’s hand, I reach out and open the door before walking in. 

“Ahhh, Marcus. It’s so good to see you again. How’ve you been?” Abbott asks as he looks up from his desk as we walk in. 

“Good, good. This is y/n, my partner and girlfriend,” I tell him as I introduce y/n while pointing at her. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Marcus, you picked a beautiful girl,” Abbott politely gives an affirmation to y/n that makes her smile. 

“Thank you, sir, but I wouldn’t say I picked her. More like she picked me,” I comment and y/n blushes. 

“No one picked anyone, we simply were made to meet one another,” she tells me and I smile before pulling the seat out for her. 

“Of course we were, sweetheart,” I tell her as I sit in the other seat. 

“Well, Marcus, how can we help you?” Abbott asks with a smile as he changes the subject. 

“Well, sir. We need your team to help us find a group of guys that stole a very important piece of work from the Washington museum. We tracked them here and need to get to them before they trade the piece,” I explain and he nods. 

“Do you have everything you need to brief them ready?” he asks and y/n nods. 

“Yes. I loaded it up on the way here. All I need is your tech person to help show me how to connect it to your database,” y/n replies and Abbott nods as he picks his phone up off the receiver. 

“Jason, I need you in briefing,” Abbott talks through the phone and he nods, humming before putting the phone down again. 

“Jason is on his way. He’ll show you how to connect. I’ll contact the team and have them all meet in briefing,"Abbott informs us with a light smile and y/n nods before standing up. 

“Thank you, sir,” she tells him with a smile and I stand up alongside her. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know the way to briefing,” I tell her as I put a hand on her back as I guide her out of the room. 

We walk out of his office and straight to the briefing room right across from it. As we walk in, Jason stands there with a smile that grows wider when he sees me. 

“Agent Pike! So good to see you again,” he tells me before holding a hand out for a shake. 

“And you, agent Wylie, how've you been, buddy?” I ask him as I shake his hand. 

“Busy as always, how have you been in Washington?” he questions and I smile. 

“Life’s been going pretty good. By the way, this is my partner and girlfriend, y/n,” I introduce y/n, putting a hand on her back. 

“Oh that’s great news, how long have you two been together?” Jason asks with a smile at y/n. 

“Four years in a week,” y/n proudly tells him and my face falls. 

“That’s next week? Honey, I’m glad you said something now. I almost forgot,” I tell her and she playfully rolls her eyes at me. 

“Marcus, baby, it’s ok. I understand, we’ve been working on this case so much lately. It’d be hard not to forget what day or week it is with how much we’ve been in office the last few weeks,” she tells me as she squeezes my arm softly, making me smile. 

“I truly don’t deserve this girl,” I joke with Jason and he laughs. 

“Ok. What is it you guys need?” Jason asks and y/n smiles. 

“Can you show me how you guys connect your computers to the main screen?” Y/n questions as she holds her computer out to him. 

“Sure! I’d love to!” Jason replies as he takes her computer. 

“It's really simple. All you do is come over to the podium here and take this cord. Then just plug it in,” he tells her while showing her as I sit on the front table and she smiles enthusiastically. 

“Wow, that’s so much simpler then what we have,” she comments and he looks at her, shocked. 

“But you're DC. Isn’t DC like the highest building? Shouldn’t they have, like super advanced technology?” he asks and she giggles, shaking her head. 

“You would think they did,” but unfortunately they do not,” I add on and y/n nods. 

“It’s actually the worst. It always crashes and fails,” y/n explains and Jason shakes his head. 

“And the higher ups don’t fix it?” he asks, making y/n laugh again. 

“Nope. They care more about what’s in their offices than ours,” she answers him and he sighs. 

“Dang, that sounds annoying,” he comments and y/n nods. 

“Oh it most definitely is, but we love the job so we make it work,” I tell him with a shrug and he smiles. 

“Well, at least you love it. That’s gotta count for something, right?” he asks and y/n nods, smiling. 

“Oh it most definitely does,” she tells him before a throat clears from behind me. 

I turn around to see who it is and in the time I’ve been here, I really had forgotten about why I had been apprehensive to come back. That is, until now. My face falls at the site of Patrick and Lisbon holding hands as they look over us. For a split second, I freeze and just stare behind me as I look them over, noticing shiny rings on their fingers. 

I stay frozen, unable to move or speak as I look over at the girl I once loved now with someone else. It’s then when I feel another hand grab onto mine that I snap back to earth and turn to see y/n. She smiles softly up at me and suddenly all my anger washes away. I squeeze her hand to let her know I’m fine. 

I give her a questioning look and she nods subtly. So with one last sigh I close my eyes before turning to them and opening them to look at them again. 

“Patrick, Theresa,” I greet them with a small curt nod. 

To Be Continued…

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[princeanxious]

Hi! I was wondering about your Lost Guardian au from ages ago, do you think you’ll ever plan on updating it and if not, could someone else take up the fic?

So heres the thing. If someone wants to write a fic *inspired* by The Lost Guardian, i’m not gonna stop them, and i’d probably feel super honored so long as the inspiration was correctly credited!

As for ‘taking up the fic,’ the short answer is no.

I have active drafts and the rest of the story already planned out to its finish, notes, even a branch-off fic set post-story that will likely go up on my nsfw blog if i ever get around to editing it. The Lost Guardian hasn’t been abandoned, it’s simply on hiatus. (And yes, i recognize 3 almost 4 years so far is a really fucking long hiatus. The Chapter 9 draft doc was made in december of 2020, and last edited in July 2022)

I started writing that fic whilst still in highschool, a time where I was 17 and didnt have to worry yet about getting my license or maintaining a part time job, i had an over abundance of freetime even partially to my detriment, the fandom was booming and I had plenty of feedback, and this fic was (and still *is*) a story im proud of.

But i’m 22 now, working a full time job to pay rent and account for a number of minor ‘disabilities’(best word i have for them atm) that I cant ignore or push to the side nor treat poorly, from the lasting effects on my body of stunted growth to celiac/glutent intolerance to adhere to that directly determines how easily my body functions for the week, to dealing with glasses i cannot afford to break and taking care of teeth i cannot afford to fix, taking care of my mental health and using the free time i have to do what brings me the most joy at that time.

The sanders sides fandom has heavily quieted down with the season finale hiatus and I’d like to think I did pretty well for going six long years dedicated solely to that without cracking under the silence, because *I knew* when I caved to something else it’d be a long while before I had the drive to come back with any sort of resolution to my active works. Thats just how my hyper fixations work. I cannot focus on multiple at once, it’s too much to process simultaneously and takes away my enjoyment bc I tend to watch/consume things repeatedly to catch every little detail i missed. And it doesn’t help when one loses steam because their content barely breaks 100 notes(80% of which are likes, 15% are reblogs with the occasional comment, and 5% are self-reblogs) when back in the height of it all, a few thousand notes was pretty average interaction. This blog still has about 11.5k followers, almost all of which came from the height of the fandom period. So for now i’ve moved onto the FNAF DCA fandom, bc it is fresh and new to me.

I know you didn’t mean to poke the bear here, I get it, but like.. C’mon. Any other fic of mine likely wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction in full but, still. I’ve had to answer this question a handful of times over the years at the point, which might be why this response feels so charged, and i’m sorry.

I don’t mean to come off as snippy or rude, but it *is* kind of invasive to offer to finish one’s creative work when it’s taking too long and theres very little payback for it. I’ve got adhd, delayed satisfaction isn’t a thing I experience. Just guilt that it wasn’t finished in a way for me to post it in time before I broke and lost all motivation to share it.

In my head, TLG has been long finished and held the ending for years, theres just been no energy to put in the effort of finish writing it for others to read. I’m still trying to get my life together to change that, don’t get me wrong, but the American economy is literally in shambles so who knows how or even if i’ll manage that. Call me selfish for being content with only mentally having my creative story’s ending and a collection of rambles and notes to show for it, but at the end of the day, it’s still my story, and i dont feel comfortable with people trying to ‘take up the mantle’ to finish it, when they don’t know how it ends.

I’m glad you like it enough to want to, though, I really *really* am. I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to finish it for you all. And i just don’t know when that will be, I just know that I *want* to do so, however long it takes.