#why does it keep saying new session she has a name you know

[spineless-lobster]

New chapter of katabasis is up!!!

Achilles gives Patroclus a proper funeral while seeking the help of his mother to prepare for his journey

Wowza now ain’t that something! Wouldn’t hurt for you to check it out :)

[msschemmenti]

fun police - 2

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

a/n: another fun police installment :)

everyone was in the office today, no one out on cases and this was going to be as good a time as any to introduce their new addition to the rest of the team. after some negotiating emily and y/n had scheduled their first session for tomorrow morning. she planned to say all the right things to get it over with and hopefully keep the young woman’s attention off of her for as long as possible.

“could you all join me at the roundtable?” emily called as she exited her office. y/n had found her way down to her office before everyone started filtering in and emily thought it best to ease them into this new idea.

“do we have a case?” tara asked looking from garcia to emily as they all sat around the table.

“no, we don’t. i just wanted to make you guys aware of a new thing happening.” emily vaguely said crossing her arms with a sigh.

“new thing? what does that mean?” jj asked suspiciously.

“well it seems our team has been flagged for our lack of self-care. i’m assuming they took a look at a variety of things like number of vacation days to working days, our case loads and things like that. and since we’ve been flagged, we’ve got the pleasure of a personal wellness agent who will be working with all of us to establish healthy coping mechanisms to rely on during tough times.”

the room was bathed in silence. shock washing over everyone’s faces and emily rubbed her temples in anticipation. she readied herself for the questions she could feel forming but was interrupted by a knock on the open doorway. she looked up and met y/n eyes.

“i see you’ve queued me up pretty nicely.” y/n smiled tentatively as she eyed the faces in the room.

“everyone, our personal wellness agent y/n y/ln. i’m sure she can explain a bit more about this process.” emily gestured welcoming the younger woman into the room.

“of course! hi everyone, as your lovely unit chief said my name is y/n and i’m here to help. i’ve been hired on to make sure that the most hardworking team in the FBI is taking care of themselves.”

“oh that’s nice.” garcia smiled at the praise.

“flattery will get you far with this group,” rossi mumbled from his seat.

y/n rolled her eyes humorously before continuing, “as i’ve explained to your section chief, i’ve found that for teams like this individual meetings or wellness sessions seem to work best. it’s completely up to you how we spend our time but we’ll be working toward building in self-care where you can.”

“and if we don’t want to participate? not in defiance or anything, i just think i’m pretty well adjusted.” tara asked crossing her arms.

“then i’d unfortunately have to do my least favorite part of this work, report my findings and determine who is and is not fit for the field. and i’d really hate to do that.” y/n smiled sweetly causing the room of agents to groan. “no need to sound so excited. we’ll do whatever you like, you just gotta spend a lil time with me.”

“how soon can we get this over with?” rossi asked.

“we can start as soon as you like, except for tomorrow morning. that slot’s already been claimed.” y/n gestures to emily with a smirk.

“ohhh,” the agents choruses teasingly, causing emily’s cheeks to heat.

“alright alright, now you know. i expect you all to cooperate.” emily dismissed and headed back toward her office.

“i’m just down the hall if anyone feels compelled to come chat.” y/n grinned and waved before heading back down to her office. leaving the group of profilers more than a little irritated.

“well this sucks.” luke grumbled. “mandatory wellness time. is spending time with roxie not enough?”

“afraid not newbie. you all having to do this doesn’t surprise me, i don’t get why i have to do it. i’m probably the most zen person in this whole building. i prioritize me almost 75% of the time now. i’m very well thank you very much.” garcia rambled.

“do you think she’d accept me asking to take a nap in her presence as my wellness session?” tara asked the group.

jj shook her head at the groups adamant distaste for the new setup, “oh come on guys, it can’t be that bad. i mean she got emily to agree. and of all of us— she’s the least likely to take a even a minute for herself.”

“you’re right jj, but im not sure she agreed solely for the health benefits if you know what i mean.” rossi hinted.

“oh yeah, i’ve got a feeling she was thinking with more than just her brain.” tara nodded in rossi’s direction.

“emily being seduced into participation?” garcia gasped, scolding the profilers.

“can you blame her? we all saw our wellness agent right?” jj asked with a knowing shrug. “i’m just saying, we should all suck it up and do our little wellness sessions. it could be fun, who knows.”

“well wants first? i mean second…” garcia asked looking around the table.

“why don’t you go miss ‘im the most zen in this whole building’? should be pretty easy for you.” luke teased.

“i know you’re being annoying but i don’t care. i will go second and ill make a chart to keep track of the schedule.” garcia glared.

“great, im sure y/n would love that.” tara smiled with a shake of her head.

-

her session came a bit sooner than she would’ve liked. but she’d prepared for this mentally. anticipated all the questions y/n might ask and gone through the appropriate answers that would eliminate the need for this to happen again. she’d told y/n to meet her in her office similarly to how she did her first day. starting her morning being interrogated wasn’t ideal but it definitely didn’t hurt that y/n was…attractive. but that wasn’t important and she was trying very very hard to remember that when the younger woman knocked on the door frame of her office.

“ready to get started?” emily quickly, motioning for y/n to step into her office.

“wow, not even a good morning? you’re failing already, section chief prentiss.” y/n tsked as she sauntered over to the couch in the office.

emily gaped at the woman getting comfortable on her couch. “i’m failing already? doesn’t sound like you have high hopes for this at all.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s accusatory tone, “i’ve read your file. my expectations for your self-care practices are pretty low. now let’s get started, come relax on this nice couch so we can chat.”

“i’m relaxed plenty over here. start your questioning.” emily refused, straightening her back defiantly.

y/n eyed emily, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “if that’s relaxed, what does it mean to you as an individual to relax? define it in your own terms for me. because i’ll be honest— you don’t look relaxed at all.”

emily scoffed indignantly, “i know how to relax,”

“i didn’t say you didn’t, but im just curious. just humor me, what does emily prentiss do to relax?”

“i relax. i nap. a warm shower is always nice. i eat. i read. i do very relaxing things.” emily listened.

“almost everything you just listed is a basic necessity. and im struggling to believe you’re picking up a romance novel instead of a case file.” y/n spoke eyeing the older woman and when emily only grumbled y/n chuckled and continued. “how do cope with stress?”

“perfectly fine-ly.” emily quipped.

“uh huh, let me guess. a bottle of wine stashed in a drawer somewhere. and when you’re really struggling— puff through a pack of cigarettes?” y/n guessed and watched as emily tried to mask her facial reactions. she may not be a profiler but she had lots of experience reading clients for filth when it came to taking care of themselves.

“uh-“ emily started but the red of her cheeks was all y/n needed to know.

“okay, i have another questions. what activities bring you enjoyment?”

emily’s eyes raked over y/n involuntarily, and she found a way she’d be able to take back some control of the situation. “i don’t think that’s appropriate for work.” emily smirked.

“oh ho ho, i see agent prentiss. and how often do you do this task?”

“probably more than you can think of.” emily bluffed and ran her hands through her hair.

y/n’s eyebrow seemed permanently posed under her eyebrow at this point. this woman was going to do anything she could to get out of this. and as stubborn as emily was, she was just as frustratingly beautiful. “ah now agent prentiss, i thought you of all people would know not to judge someone by their looks. trust me, im well acquainted with the task you’re alluding to.”

and just like that— the ball was back in y/n’s court and emily was a blushing mess. also didn’t help that as soon as that image was in her head, that’s all she could really think about.

as y/n watched emily rub her reddened neck nervously, y/n chuckled sweetly and rose from the couch. “you know what, this was a very informative chat. same time next week?”

“next week?” emily squeaked.

“yeah, hun. next week. i’m gonna give you some homework too. next time we meet, i want you to have done at least four things to relax that aren’t basic needs.”

“homework?” emily spluttered in disbelief.

“yeah. if you’re good, there might’ve been a prize waiting for you.” y/n teased before heading out of emily’s office. “four things agent! just four.” y/n called over her shoulders as she headed out of the bullpen.

well that certainly didn’t go as well as emily had planned.

[screaminglygay]

hey! can we pretty pls have a pt2 to the stalker!amber?

Amber Freeman headcanons

warnings: dark!amber, swearing, toxic situationship, possibly bad grammar, stalking, obsessive behavior

word count: 1.7k

an: thank you for your patience! i still have some sort of writing block, so this is just something little, but I want to write a full fic on amber, so stay tuned! hehe

Amber and you have many study sessions, she wants you to pass all the exams, it is not her fault that it always leads her to take you in any way she wants

"Amber, we talked about this..." you sigh as you look at the book infront of you, while Amber´s hands were wandering on your body.

"I'm just helping. If you can solve this under a distraction, can you imagine how good you'll be during the exam?" She looks at you, admiring you as she always does.

"So when someone would touch me during the exam I´m gonna be prepared?" You finally look at her, making a joke.

Her whole body shifts, she´s being slightly frustrated about you being such a brat. "Fine, let´s go back to stuying."

"What? I´m just playing your game, Ambs," you smile softly at her.

"No, you´re just being a fucking brat." And now, she´s mad mad.

You scan her face for a little bit, "oh come on, I was just joking," you poke her face slightly.

And there goes her tiny manipulation tactic, that you always fall hard for.

"I feel like you could do something little for me, since I´m spending so much time with you, making sure you pass..." Amber sits up.

You immedietly sit up too, "I- sorry, you are right," you take her hand in yours.

"Lay down, pretty girl..." she leans over you and you lay on your back, here it goes again.

No matter what subject, day in a week or time... Amber always knows how to make you do whatever she wants. And every single time and you... you obey.

Amber always knowing where you are, when the two of you are not together. She put few of a dog trackers in your wallet, some clothes, backpack, even into Chad´s car, just to be sure you´re always okay.

After a long weekend of not seeing eachother, Amber stops by your locker in the morning and waits for you. You immedietly smile, when you see her. It was a long time with your family on some stupid gathering outside the city, your cousin had birthday party - the most disgusting, pervy, rasist idiot. You´re very happy that you are back in school... it is kinda the same hell hole, but at least you still have your friends and Amber here.

"Hi," you say softly as you open your locker, taking out some books.

"Hi," she watches you, "how did you enjoy the family gathering?"

"It was hell-" you respond, but then you look at her with raise eyebrow, "wait, how do you know about the gathering?"

Amber without missing a beat asnwers with a smile, "Chad mentioned."

You nod, "oh, he can´t keep a secret, got it." You shake your head as you close the locker.

The girl smiles, another lie that you believe so easily. "Why a secret?"

"It´s a long story, but uh... I´m not really a fan talking about family, especially if most of them are shitty rasist who can´t name a single country outside of the US," you shrug.

"Got it, no more mentioning these people." She nods, like she doesn´t already know your whole family tree.

She has a tons of your pictures and videos, special folders on her phone, laptop, flashdisks, everything is sorted out.

Because you two are bonding more and more, she was really happy to make a new special folder of you. If the previous photos were only for her, these kinds of pictures are under increased security.

"You look so pretty, so so so pretty," she smiles at you kneeling on the bed, your hands covering your face, from all the emberassement. "Don´t be shy, puppy, look at me... come on." She takes her phone and opens camera.

"Amber..." you basically whine.

"What? Can´t I take a picture of a pretty girl on my bed?" She makes a photo. "Put those hands away for me."

You do, blushing like crazy, this is not something you´re used to. But you want to make her happy, seeing her smile at you makes something inside of you tingle.

"Pretty girl, look at you!" She smirks.

What you didn´t know, was that she has another camera in her room and every single time you´re there, you are increasing the number of files in her folder.

Even though the two of you are not official yet, everyone can see that Amber holds this sort of protection over you.

Another collage party, which is not a place you would chose to spend your time, but everyone decided to go and you didn´t want to be the only one saying no.

You are sitting on the couch next to Tara and Mindy, talking about your plans for the weekend, when all of the sudden a tall most would say handsome guy sit infront of you.

"That seat is occupied," Mindy says.

He looks around, "I don´t see anyone here. So..." He winks at you.

"That seat is occupied, they just went to grab someting to drink," you yell, because of the loud music.

"I wouldn´t leave such a pretty little thing on her own..." He smiles and you´re ready to throw up.

And before you or any of the girls could say anything, Amber steps in. "She is not alone, you dipshit."

He chuckles and stands up, "and who are you?"

"I don´t want to have a conversation with you," she splashes one of the drinks into his face, which indeed makes him leave with screaming something about a bitch.

"Oh wow, I respect that." Mindy says and Tara just stares at Amber.

"Um- thanks?" You look at Amber.

"Sorry about the drink, here take mine." She smiles as she gives you the only drink that survived.

Amber is very observing, she knows everything about you, even stuff you didn´t figure out on your own, but there are times when you totally shock her.

"Are you crazy, what are you doing here?" Amber yells at you. Walking in the rain was not the smartest decision you made. You were frozen to the bone

"I wanted to suprise you..." you smile softly.

"Wha- come in, jesus!" She steps aside so you can come inside her apartment, rushing to the bathroom for a towel.

"You uh said you had some hard time at work, so I just assumed... that maybe I could cheer you up a little bit." You say while your whole body is trembling.

Amber walks out with a towel and some of her clothes, looking at you like a deer in the headlights.

"I brought your favorite donuts and some nice relaxing candles. And we can order some sushi later. And if you´d like I can help with something, or just... keep you company, since I have zero idea what you´re doing at work." You let out a chuckle, "I mean most of the things I brought are completly wet, but I think they suvived it."

"You´re such a dumbass, do you know that?" Amber shakes her head, helping you put the things down and covering you up in a towel. "Why didn´t you call me, I could pick you up?"

"That woudln´t be a suprise, duh."

"God, we will be lucky if you won´t die from hypothermia, right now."

"I´m not helping with the stress, huh?" you sigh.

"(Y/N), I appraciate the effort, I really do, but next time, don´t try to walk in the worst thunderstorm, alright?"

"I think I could do that, yeah." The both of you laughed.

She loves PDA, her hands are on you all the time. Amber, an ardent lover of public displays of affection, is perpetually tactile, her hands finding peace on the lower back, intertwining fingers, and linked arms, embracing herself around her world.

“I’ll take this, thank you, pretty girl,” she says as she holds your hand for the billionth time today.

Amber is being your personal driver, driving you everywhere you need. Even if it means she has to wake up sooner, when you have classes, she will drive you no matter what.

The both of you made Saturdays as your movie nights.

"What are we chosing tonight?" Amber asks from the batrhoom.

You scroll through the Netflix, "how about the new season of YOU?"

Amber stops at her tracks, "um... what´s that?"

"You don´t know YOU?! What?! It´s really good show! We have to watch it."

"But you´ve already seen it, I don´t want to bother you by watching something twice..." She tries to skate out of it.

"No, no, it´s fine. I really enjoyed it and you will too!" You smile, clicking on the first season.

This was the biggest paradox in Amber´s life.

"Wow, that´s some stalker shit, just like you are!" Amber says with a light nudge.

"Oh shut up! I said if bilions of times, I didn´t stalk you. I don´t do that."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, (Y/N)," Amber teases you, "but following me like a lost puppy, liking my old photo, going through my social media, are you sure you´re not a Joe to my Beck?" Oh she´s pushing it, but for you, it´s just a silly missunderstanding that happened few motnths ago.

Despite her focus on academics and socializing, Amber harbors a secret talent for photography. She has a knack for capturing candid moments and hidden emotions, using her camera lens to express herself in ways that words cannot. And when it is combined with you?

Perfection.

Amber loves when you 'steal' her clothes, there is no better view than you in her bed with only her oversized shirt on you.

"Is that my shirt?" Amber looks at you, as youre already in bed, waiting for the usual movie night.

"Definetly not," you shake your head, taking the blanket to cover you.

"Oh- then what is your favorite song?" She smirks.

"Huh?"

"You have my favorite band on your shirt, what is your favorite song from them?" Amber asks again.

"Oh... um- all of them." Good save?

She laughs "All of them? It is not a band shirt, it´s a car logo, pretty girl."

You blush, "oh." Not a good save.

"It´s fine, keep the shirt, you look pretty in it." She lays next to you, putting an arm around you, keeping you close as possible.

In her free time, Amber enjoys exploring antique shops and flea markets, searching for unique treasures and hidden gems to add to her collection. She has a keen eye for things like this.

Thank you for reading!

[beestriker015]

Black Cat x male hero s/o

Being one of the several superheroes other than Spider-Man residing in New York, it was only a matter of time that s/o had a run in with Felicia Hardy, also known as Black Cat, which he did during one of his patrols.

“Oh? And here I was expecting the Spider to swing in and spoil my fun as always.”

She says after encountering s/o on a rooftop after her latest heist.

“Well you’ve got me instead, I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Far from it. In fact, I’m liking what I’m seeing.”

The feline themed cat burglar responds in a flirtatious tone while taking her sweet time eying the hero up.

“Really now? That makes two of us. You know, I’ve always been kind of a cat person.”

He flirts back as Felicia feels her face heat up slightly, much to her slight surprise.

“Oh I like you. Now let’s see if you can keep up hero.”

She then flees as s/o does his best to keep up before he eventually loses track of her.

“Darn it! I lost her! She may have gotten away this time, but something tells me I’ll be seeing her again, or at least….I hope so.”

Over the next few weeks, s/o and Felica kept running into each other, whether it’s intentional or not, and soon an attraction begins to grow between them.

“I must be out of my mind. How can I be developing feelings for her? Granted she’s not evil or anything like that, but she’s still technically a villain, and I shouldn’t be thinking about her this way. Oh jeez, what am I gonna do?”

Meanwhile, Felicia is much more accepting of her growing feelings for s/o.

“I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, and I can tell he feels the same, so it’s time for this kitty to sink her claws into a certain hero.”

She thinks to herself with a smirk while coming up with a plan.

Later on, Black Cat is met by s/o during another outing (which she planned with the sole intention of catching the hero’s attention) and quickly gets to work.

“Well well well, there’s my favorite hero, looking as handsome as ever. With how often we’ve been seeing each other, you really know how to make a girl feel special. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

Before he could react, s/o is pulled into a deep kiss and quickly sinks into it, thus sparking a romantic relationship between him and Felicia.

Despite now being a couple, it took awhile before the two decided to reveal their civilian identities to each other, but when they finally did, it brought them closer as a result.

“So you’re the man behind the mask huh?”

“Yep. My name is s/o.”

“I’m Felicia. Felicia Hardy.”

“Felicia….a pretty name for an even prettier face.”

He says as she can’t help but blush.

“Thanks. You’re not at all bad yourself handsome. Why, I have to refrain myself from pouncing on you right this second.

Now it’s s/o’s turn to blush.

“God, I love you Felicia.”

She looks at him in shock before smiling widely.

“I love you too s/o.”

After saying those three special words for the first time, the two share a passionate kiss and embrace.

Now being in a serious relationship, s/o and Black Cat always have each other’s back despite being a hero and a villain respectively.

Dating a superhero has caused Felicia to gradually become more of a vigilante, helping her boyfriend fight villains if she can.

“We make a great team don’t we?”

“I think so too, and watching my strong handsome boyfriend take down bad guys makes this kitty purr if you know what I mean.”

“I can say the same about you beautiful.”

Even after dating for quite some time, s/o and Felicia never stop flirting with each other, often leading to spontaneous make out sessions.

As far as jealousy goes, there really isn’t any to speak of.

S/o and Black Cat are so enamored with each other that they both know there’s nothing to worry about in terms of other women/men, even taking into consideration Felicia’s flirty nature.

(If s/o ever did get bothered by his girlfriend’s meaningless flirting, she would definitely tone it down for him.)

Dates with these two can literally be anything, but their favorite thing to do is stay at home (whether it be Felicia’s apartment or where s/o lives) and watch movies together on the couch.

“This is nice, after fighting villains all week, it’s safe to say we needed this.”

“Yep, especially because I get you all to myself s/o.”

She tells him sweetly while cuddling up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Because both of them are friends with Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, it’s not uncommon for s/o and Felicia to mix things up by having a double date with him and MJ.

“Dinner was great as always, but I insist that I split the bill with you Peter.”

“You sure s/o?”

“Of course! You and MJ were kind enough to invite us to come here with you, so it’s the least I can do to thank you both.”

“What a gentleman. You got yourself a good one Felicia.”

Mary Jane tells the white haired girl, who smiles in response.

“That I do MJ, that I do.”

Should a villain ever seriously injure s/o, they’ll soon face the wrath of a very pissed off Black Cat.

“Hurting my man wasn’t very bright, so now the claws come out. They say a cat has nine lives, so let’s see how many you have!”

Luckily Spider-Man was there to stop her from doing something she’d regret.

“Cat, you don’t wanna do this! Do you think s/o would be ok with what you were about to do?”

Upon hearing the mention of her boyfriend, Felicia calms down a little and focuses on getting s/o some medical attention as Peter deals with the villain.

After s/o fully recovers, Felicia will become slightly clingy for a while.

“That scumbag was lucky Peter stopped me, because I was this close to using him as my personal scratching post, and let me tell you, this cat has some really sharp claws.”

She says with a pout while holding him tightly to her chest.

“I didn’t know my pretty kitty was so protective.”

“What can I say? I’m the type of girl who doesn’t appreciate someone messing with what’s hers.”

“Oh so I’m yours huh?”

He asks her teasingly, making his girlfriend chuckle.

“Yep, but you already knew that.”

“True, though you know that means your mine right?”

Felicia smirks in response and whispers breathily into her boyfriend’s ear.

“Oh believe me, I do. This kitty is all yours s/o.”

And just like that, things proceed to get a bit…….spicy between the two.

Nearly three years after they began dating, s/o decides it’s finally time to pop the question, and he does so after bringing Felicia to the very same rooftop where they first met.

“This place sure brings back a lot of memories doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, it’s where a certain handsome hero came into my life that I feel in love with. I’m so happy to have met you that night s/o.”

“I feel the same way Felicia, which is why I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. Felicia Hardy, will you marry me?”

He asks his girlfriend after getting on one knee while showing her an absolutely beautiful ring.

“I was hoping you were gonna do this at some point, because if not, I was gonna propose myself! Yes, of course I’ll marry you s/o!

She pulls him into a passionate kiss after he slips the ring on, the beautiful white haired (former) cat themed thief looking forward to having her hero boyfriend as her hero husband.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions 

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince. 

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did. 

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral. 

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts.  Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence. 

It doesn’t for you, he realizes. 

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

He hasn’t heard much from his dad in the past year, but two goals for England and the texts start coming again.

---

He blocks his dad’s number, once, twice, another fucking time, but his father keeps getting new numbers or borrowing his mates’ phones or something and the messages keep coming.

He gives up on blocking them. What’s the fucking point?

He tries not to read the texts. He doesn’t always succeed, and he knows what they say anyway.

---

As the second game against City gets nearer the texts get longer and more frequent and nastier. Insistent. Calls too now, at all hours.

For a while, he can ignore it. Things are good. Called up for England, did well, Richmond is playing better than ever, he’s playing better than ever, there’s Roy and Keeley and the team, and Jamie’s feeling good.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Life can’t get too good, because when it does his dad will always come sniffing around, mean old stray looking for juiciest pieces of meat to sink his teeth into, always snapping, snapping, growling, biting, and this ain’t the sort of dog you can jut put down, is it?

Only way to keep it at bay is to never have anything it wants.

But fuck that, because Jamie’s worked fucking hard for this, his life, he’s fought for everything he has and he’s not going to let some nasty old sod ruin it for him or take it away.

So he ignores it, texts and calls and everything, and for a while he can.

---

In the end, it’s not even something in particular that gets to him. No escalation, no sudden appearance of James Tartt in the flesh, no broken beer bottles conspiciously dropped outside his door. In the end, it’s just coming back from his early morning session with Roy to another four missed calls and three drunken voice messages, and just like that, he’s done.  

He comes to practice wrapped in barbed wire, donning the old attitude like armour, and if asked he couldn’t even tell you why. Just seems easier, somehow.

---

They all see right through him, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Terrified. Stupid. Grateful. Known.

Cared for.

Roy still makes him run an extra ten laps after practice for being an arsehole to everyone instead of telling someone what was going on like you fucking should have, but then he squeezes his shoulder and brings him home to Keeley and makes them dinner while she helps him change his number and make sure everyone who needs to has the new one.

---

“We’ve spoken to City,” Ms. Welton – Rebecca – tells him. “They’ve agreed to ban Mr. Tartt from the premises for our upcoming game.”

The relief is a surprise; the intensity of it. He hadn’t realized until now how much the notion of his father being there had messed with him; his father, watching him, screaming, the sound of his name in that hateful mouth. Only now, when the threat is gone, does he recognize the severity of it.

---

When they news break they’re already on the way to Manchester. Colin is the first to notice and he curses softly and calls for Jamie and tells Isaac and then the whole coach knows.

The Sun: “Star Striker’s Dad Banned from City Game.”

And that’s his dad feigning a look of gentle devastation and it’s all about how Jamie’s money and fame has gone to his head, how he can’t even let his dad watch the game because he’s embarrassed of his humble beginnings, right shame, isn’t it, when people forget where they came from as soon as they make it big? Walked out on City after everything they put into him, didn’t he, and now he’s cutting ties with his family too just ‘cause they’re poor and not educated like, what sort of dickhead does that? “Kid’s turned his back on his roots, thinks he’s too good for us now.”

Manchester City declines to comment, other than to confirm that yes, at the request of AFC Richmond Mr. James Tartt will be prevented from attending the match. Nothing else they can say, really, not without revealing things that aren’t theirs to reveal.

The coach goes quiet, the way the dressing room had done at Wembley last year. Then they rally, anger and encouragements and just ignore it, man and it feels good and it makes him want to hide. He has no fucking idea what to say to them, except yeah, no, it’s some bullshit, yeah.

Ted and Beard huddle together, whispering furiously. Roy’s typing away at his phone, looking especially like he wants to murder someone. 

Sam, next to him, doesn’t say anything at all at first, just gives him a small nod. A few minutes later he offers, “My dad says to tell you good luck with the game, you’ll do great.”

And he should feel pathetic for finding comfort in that, maybe, but he doesn’t, much.

The game starts in a few hours. Long enough for everyone to have seen it by then, not long enough to put together a coherent response.

---

The boos and angry noise of the crowd is a furious buzzing in his ears and he squares his shoulders and eyes on the ball and the match is what fucking matters, everything else is just poopy, stupid fucking shit, doesn’t matter—

He plays like he means to outplay the devil himself. Plays like it would have been easy, had old Nick cared to show up.

The booing never stops, not even when Pep makes a point of coming over to him for a quick cuddle and few encouraging words after the final whistle.            

---

And they’re back in the dressing room after and the press is clamouring for a conference just a few doors down and Keeley’s driven all the way up from London and they’re all talking strategies and damage control and spinning the narrative and it’s doing his head in. All of them blabbering on and on and on and—

“Can we just tell them the fucking truth?”

That shuts them up. They all stare at him. Higgins is the first to speak. “Do you – do you want to do that?”

No, he doesn’t say. Of course I don’t wanna fucking do that. 

But the thing is, everyone that matters already knows, don’t they? So what’s the difference, really, with telling the whole fucking world?

It’s a huge fucking difference, something in him whispers.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Opens them again. All right. “Just think it’s the best thing to do, yeah?”

And there’s murmurs of agreement and Keeley’s looking at him like maybe she wants to cry and he can’t look at her looking like that so he looks away.

Roy catches his eyes. “You want me there with you?”

And yeah, he does want that and he’s too exhausted to pretend otherwise. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

---

“Are you ashamed of your father, Jamie?”

A moment, then, when it’s still not too late. He can still change his mind. He can still lie. No one has to know: he can still be the untouchable Jamie Tartt, confident and arrogant and never ever a victim.  

Fuck that.

“Yeah. I am.”

---

There’s no avoiding the snippets afterwards because they are fucking everywhere but he never watches the whole thing and so he’s not entirely clear on what he really says. Bits and pieces stay with him, though:  

“If I’d told ‘em here at City, my coaches and stuff, they’d have helped. I know they would have. But I was too fucking ashamed, yeah, so I never told anyone and I went off to do this stupid reality show instead and I did a whole bunch of stupid shit just ‘cause I was scared about people finding out about me and my dad. Never wanted anyone to know any of that shit.”

And:

“And I know, right, that there are people who’ll say I shouldn’t be in football if I can’t take a hit, like what the fuck am I gonna do when I’m tackled on the pitch and stuff. But that’s different, yeah? I fucking signed up for that. Didn’t sign up for my dad being a huge fucking dickhead, did I?”

And:

“I’m done being ashamed.”

---

There’s Roy too, near the end, and something about making it seem like aggression and violence is a normal thing and how that is part of the problem and how he’s going to do better from now on, and Jamie wants to tell him that, no, Roy has never been the problem, Jamie ain’t ever been scared of him, that’s really not it at all, but Roy does have a point too, doesn’t he, so Jamie keeps quiet.

---

“Was it all right?” he asks, afterwards, when the door’s closed to the press room and it’s just him and Roy and Keeley in the corridor.

“It was great,” Keeley tells him, stepping close to wrap her arms around him. “It was perfect.” Leaning back a little, she runs a hand over his cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Jamie.”

“Yeah, me too,” Roy says and his hug is just half a thing, one arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders and pulling him close, but it’s enough to relax into, to rest in.

Keeley’s looking at both of them like they hung the fucking stars.

“How about dinner?” she asks. “Don’t wanna drive all the way back tonight, think I’ll just get a hotel.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Roy says.

And okay. He can’t be disappointed about that. Of course they’d want some time together. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Should be heading for the coach anyway. You have fun, yeah?”

The look they exchange is dismayed.

“No,” Roy says, sounding like he’s trying very hard not to sound angry. “You’re coming to dinner with us. Keeley will drive us back in the morning.”

“Unless you’d rather go back now with the rest of the team,” Keeley quickly adds, shooting Roy a pointed glare.

And oh. Okay. “No, yeah, dinner sounds good.”

---

They make him go say goodbye to the lads first, let them know you’re all right, and it’s still with him when they head out into the Manchester night, Colin’s arms around him and Sam’s quiet smile and Dani’s hands on his shoulders and Isaac’s muttered you’re gonna be okay, bruv.

He carries all of it with him, and it makes him feel light.

---

Coda:

“So, Roy,” Ted asks, leaning back into his office chair. ”Got any big plans for the break?”

“Keeley and I are trying for Marbella again. Only two weeks, she can’t be away from the firm any longer. Jamie’s joining us after he’s done with that football camp thing for disadvantaged kids.”

[sarah-bear706318]

Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter 6:

Series Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Chapter Summary: Your brother walks seeing you and Scott sleeping and loses his mind! Your brother and new boyfriend get into fight right in the middle of your room. In the aftermath of the fight you try to talk to your brother when he says things he can't take back

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Series Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

Chapter Warnings: MAJOR ANGST(sorry) A very pissed off Tyler, fist fights, LOTS of yelling, sibling fight, cussing, soft! Scott, asshole Tyler, lots of tears, heavy makeout session, fluff

A/N: this chapter might hurt but I do have a plan! also I saw on google Tyler's middle name was James so I went with google lol Thank you everyone who is reading liking and reblogging my story! I am new to writing and it makes me feel good and encourages me to keep writing!!! and aslo big shout out to @nikkicloudie for always letting me bounce ideas off her, you are such a big help!

@nikkicloudie @papichulo120627 @thespillingvoid @turnerintoabutler @lindsayjoy444 @glenpowellluver @harrysgothicbitch

If you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

"WHAT THE FUCK"

You are jolted awake at the sound of a very pissed off older brother and something hitting the wall. Before you have anytime to think you feel Scott being ripped out of bed.

"WHAT THE FUCK TYLER LET HIM GO, AND HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET IN MY ROOM"

"THAT DOESNT MATTER WHY THE FUCK IS HE IN YOUR ROOM IN YOUR FUCKING BED"

" THATS NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS TYLER, NOW LET MY BOYFRIEND GO AND GET OUT OF MY ROOM NOW!"

Tyler is seeing red at this point and looking between you and Scott, he's shocked enough to let the grip he has on Scott loosen, and Scott stumbles trying to keep his balance.

"BOYFRIEND?! DID YOU JUST SAY BOYFRIEND Y/N?!" Tyler yells going to grab Scott again, but isn't fast enough, you are in between the 2 tall men in the matter of a second.

"YES BOYFRIEND" you yell at your brother

"I'LL KILL YOU" Tyler yells pushing you aside and goes to throw a punch when Boone grabs his arms and pulls him back, while Javi does the same with Scott. You look around wondering where the hell they came from, then you see your brother never closed the door.

"What the hell is going on in here" Javi says looking at the three of you.

"I FOUND THEM IN BED TOGETHER AND SHE JUST CALLED CLIPBOARD HERE HER BOYFRIEND"

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT, NOW TELL ME HOW AND WHY YOU ARE IN MY FUCKING ROOM TYLER JAMES OWENS"

"I WANTED TO SURPRISE YOU WITH COFFEE SO I USED THE EXTRA KEY"

"YOU HAVE A KEY TO MY ROOM TYLER ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW"

"YES THEY GAVE ME 2 YESTERDAY"

"SO YOU KEPT ONE WITHOUT TELLING ME ARE YOU INSANE TYLER"

"NO BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER RIGHT NOW Y/N" your brother yells to you before he turns his sights to Scott

"NOW WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY SISTERS ROOM IN HER FUCKING BED"

"WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING DUDE LIKE SHE SAID WE FELL ASLEEP WATCHING A MOVIE" Scott yells

"WITH YOUR FUCKING SHIRT OFF"

You look over to your new boyfriend where Javi is still holding him back from your brother and see he does indeed have his shirt off, holy fucking hell does he look good you think to yourself, but when did he take his shirt off, but before Scott can say another word you hear another voice.

Kate, Lily, Dani, and Dexter are now standing in the still open door to your room looking very confused to what they are seeing. Great more people to witness this It's Kate that speaks up first. "What is with all the yelling we can hear the 3 of all the way downstairs".

"I JUST FOUND MY SISTER IN BED WITH THIS ASSHOLE, AND HE HAS NO SHIRT ON THATS WHATS WITH ALL THE YELLING"

Your brother pulls out of Boone's grip and tackles Scott to the ground and Javi right along with him. You stand there in shock with a mix of angry and hurt tears streaming down your face while your big brother and boyfriend throwing punches at each other. Javi gets to his feet and does his best to grab Scott with the help of Dani as Boone does the same to your brother with the Dexter helping him. You have had it at this point

"KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF BOTH OF YOU THATS ENOUGH!" you yell at the top of your lungs "I CAN'T BELIEVE THE TWO OF YOU ACTING LIKE THIS! SCOTT SIT SO I CAN CLEAN YOUR FACE, BOONE GET MY BROTHER OUT NOW" you say pulling your boyfriend from Javi's grip and pushing him on the bed.

"WHY DOES HE GET TO STAY" your brother yells still being held back

"BECAUSE TYLER HE DIDNT COME BARGING IN UNVITED, AND I CAN ONLY YELL AT ONE OF YOU AT A TIME AND I'M MORE LIKLY TO KILL YOU RIGHT NOW THEN HIM TYLER JAMES"

"I'M NOT LEAVING TIL WE TALK ABOUT THIS Y/N"

"YES YOU ARE TYLER I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU OR SEE RIGHT NOW, BOONE DEXTER GET HIM OUT NOW" you yell

"This isn't over Y/n" your brother says before he angrily shrugs out of the grip Boone and Dexter have on him and stomps toward the door. The others look between you and Scott before they too are heading to the door.

"Hey Javi could you please bring me some ice to put on this idiots face and Boone will you check on my idiot brother so he doesn't do anything stupid" you say to the men, and they both nod

"Do you need anything Y/n" Kate ask in a soft voice from the doorway

"Actually coffee would be amazing Kate thank you" you say looking at her then to the wall where you heard something being thrown at it just minutes ago, "and maybe a few extra towels since I not only have to clean a bloody face but coffee off the floor and wall and make my brother pay for the coffee since he started all this" you say meeting Kates eyes.

You make your way to the sink to wet a rag for Scott's face, and to see if you can find a first aid kit. As your walking back to the bed to clean up your boyfriends face you are beyond pissed, and Scott can tell so he just stays silence. He has a busted lip, a cut over his right eyes and a bruise forming on his cheek. "This is gonna sting but I gotta clean it" you say to Scott before wiping the alcohol pad over his lip while he winces. Before Scott can say anything there is a knock at the door and the sound of the door opening.

"Here's the ice your coffee extra towels and your extra key Kate made your brother give it up" Javi says walking over to hand you the bucket of ice and setting the coffee towels and key down on the bedside table.

"Thanks, hows idiot number 1" you ask still wrapping ice in a clean rag and handing it to Scott.

"He's bout the same as idiot number 2 here, Kates taking care of him"

"Tell her thank you"

"I will, I'll leave you to tend to him I'll check back later"

"Thank you Javi" "Thanks man" you and Scott say at the same time then Javi is out the door leaving you and Scott alone.

Scott breaks the silence "I'm so sorry baby". You say nothing as you walk to the bathroom to throw away all the bloody supplies you just used to clean his face, then back to the side of the bed where your coffee sits, picking it up to take your first sip.

"Baby please talk to me please" Scott begs

"What do you want me to say Scott hmmm, That its ok you and my big brother got into a knock down drag out at 7 in the morning in my room" Scott stays silence still holding the ice to his face

"Or do you want me to say I love knowing the fact that the whole state of Okla-fucking-homa just heard me and my brother yelling at each other, oh how bout this cleaning my boyfriend's bloody face first thing in the morning is how I wanted to start my day, and all this without coffee, so please Scott where do you want me to start"

"I can't say enough how sorry I am, I didn't want to fight my girlfriend's brother shirtless first thing in the morning with 5 other people watching and having to hear you cry and yell at your brother broke my heart, I will do anything to prove how sorry I am baby"

"It's not just you I'm mad at. My brother did barge in and you were only defending yourself I hate fighting with my brother" you say in a small voice trying to fight back tears. "He's one of my bestfriend and I know he means well but I think sometimes he still sees me as that 5 year old little girl he walked door to door with taking me trick or treating" Scott let out a laugh at the thought of that.

"I know you and my brother have a history and you hate each other but I can't do this every single day cleaning blood off one of your faces because you both wanna throw punches everytime you see each other or have a screaming match with my brother, I want him to be ok with the 2 of us. I really can see us going the distance and I want that so much but I really cant live with the two the men in my life fighting, and don't worry my idiot brother is gonna get the same talk with too" you say looking to Scott while wiping your eyes

"I don't think me and your brother will ever see eye to eye or be friends but I can be civil with brother if that's what you need me to do, I'll do anything to make this work with you and keep you as my girl" Scotts says brushing hair from your face

"You'd do that for me really" you ask

"of course I will babygirl" Scott replies pulling you into his arm

"Can I ask you one more thing baby" you say looking at Scott

"anything sweetheart"

"Not that I'm complaining because I most definitely am not but what happened to your shirt and why did I not get to help you out of it" you hear Scott laugh before he replies

"Well baby that is 2 questions" Scott laughs while you rolls your eyes

"But I got hot I'm not use to wearing a shirt while I sleep or having a gorgeous girl cuddled up next to me, as far as you not helping i thought you wanted to take it slow"

"I do but I'll never complain helping you get shirtless" you say with a wink and a kiss to his lips

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

You and Scott stay in your room for a bit longer before you decide its time to go talk to your brother. You reluctantly pull yourself from Scotts arms to go get dressed. Once your dressed you and Scott walk out of your room, you turn to see your brother at his truck and you catch his gaze. Scott's room is on the first floor so the 2 of you walk down the stairs hand in hand you can feel your brothers eyes on you the whole time. Scott kisses you goodbye and tells you to text him when you're done or if you need anything.

You make your way over to your brother, the look he is giving you is making you feel like you did when you were 15 and took his old truck for a joy ride with your friends and crashed it. You make it to his truck and finally get a good look at his face, Javi was right he didn't look much better then Scott.

"You ready to talk about things like grown ups Ty"

"You tell me Y/n" Tyler replies

"I know you don't like Scott and there is a history there but you cant just bust into my room at 7am and be pulling people out of bed throwing coffee at my wall and punching people. I really like him, and he has treated me with nothing but respect and been so sweet since I met him. Can you please for me get on board?" you say to your brother

"No I can not get on board you wanna know why, I walk into my baby sisters room and see the ONE person I told her not to mess around with in her bed shirtless and you what expect me to turn and tip toe out off the room maybe put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door on my way out"

"No Tyler but I do expect you to act like a person and not a caveman, and like I told you we fell asleep watching a movie"

"WITH NO SHIRT Y/N, DON'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT LINE"

"EXCUSE ME WHAT LINE TYLER"

By this time you are both screaming and now have your brothers whole crew along with Javi and Kate stand there watching everything unfold. You look to your left and see Scott walking over as well.

"YOU WERE JUST WATCHING A MOVIE AND HIS SHIRT HAPPEN TO COME OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF IT"

"I'M NOT USING A LINE TYLER THATS WHAT HAPPENED WE FELL ASLEEP AND HE GOT HOT AND TOOK IT OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, AND EVEN IF SOMETHING DID HAPPEN ITS MY ROOM AND I'M 25 YEARS OLD AND CAN DO AS I PLEASE IN MY OWN ROOM"

"I DONT CARE THAT YOU ARE 25 I'M NOT GONNA STAND BACK AND WATCH MY BABY SISTER GET HER HEART BROKEN BY FRATBOY CLARK KENT AND I PAID FOR THE ROOM I PAID FOR YOUR PLANE TICKET DOWN HERE AND YOU ARE MY LITTLE SISTER AND YOU ARE DONE SEEING HIM"

As soon as the words left his lips he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he knew he just crossed a line, he looked around at his crew and their faces told him the same thing. Before Tyler could speak you beat him to it.

"Wow Tyler I didn't know you were keeping a tab stupid me I thought this was my graduation gift from my big brother guess I was wrong" you say with tears now running down your face then you dig in your purse for your wallet. You pull out all the cash you had on you and shove it at your brother. "Heres all the cash I have its about $380 this should cover at least the plane ticket I'll get the rest for the room and anything else you paid for by the end of the day, I'll have my stuff out of the room you paid for and see if they have an open room if not I'll figure out something I'd sleep on the street at this point, thanks for the gift big brother" you turn to Boone and hand him one of the keys

"Here Boone have your own room for once give me 10 minutes to get my stuff and I'll leave the extra key on the bedside table" You turn around and start to walk away with tears running down your face, you hear your brother calling after you but you don't want to deal with him. Tyler has never in 25 years to cause your tears only dried them, he was the person you went to not the one you ran from.

"Jelly bean" Tyler yells again

"Give her space T" you hear Bonne say to your brother

Scott meets you at the stairs and walks up with you to get your things from the room you stayed in last night. While your packing your things you don't say anything the tears have stopped and at this point you feel numb to a degree, you don't fight with your brother he's your favorite person in the world so this is an all new feeling.

After you gather all your things you walk down to the front desk with Scott to see if they have an empty room.

"Can I help you ma'am" the older woman behind the desk ask

"Yes I was hoping you have an empty room I can rent for a few days" you say to the woman

"I'm so sorry ma'am with all the storm chasers and the extra people that came in from Soonersville from the storm yesterday we are all booked up but there is another hotel down the across town its about 15 miles up hwy 25"

You hold back tears and force a smile before thanking her and walking out of the office. Once outside the dam breaks and you can no longer hold back the tears you then feel Scotts strong arms wrap around you pulling you into his chest. All you think about is what you're gonna do for a place to sleep tonight. Your first instinct is to go to your brother but for the first time in your life you cant and you are feeling helpless.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do Scott, I have no place to stay I don't even have a car to get me to another hotel or to sleep in" you sob into his chest

"Baby please don't cry you have a place to sleep, you can stay in my room"

"Don't you share one with Javi tho?" you ask

"Javi wont mind you staying I promise. I'm not letting my girlfriend sleep on the street or in a hotel across alone where I cant protect her, come baby lets get get you to the room to relax and I'll go get you something to eat." Scott says kissing your forehead.

You get to Scotts room he opens the door for you to enter first. Javi sitting on his bed with his laptop, the opening of the door gets his attention and you see him look up from what ever he was doing. He sees you and Scott with your things so he gets up to help.

"They didn't have anymore rooms available and I didn't want her staying across town alone, so I told her she could crash with us at least until a room opens up, that's cool right?" Scotts looks over to Javi

"Yeah man that's not a problem, I wouldn't want her staying across town alone either"

"Thank you Javi, as soon as I room opens up I promise I'll be out of your hair" You say looking to Javi

"You can crash in here as long as you need to Dr.Owens" Javi says with a smile

Scott and Javi help you get settled after the events of the morning and the fight with your brother

"Baby I'm gonna go grab something to eat for you is there anything else you need?" Scott says coming to sit next to you.

"I'm ok I'm not really hungry but thank you , could you take my card and pull some cash from the ATM another $200 should pay Ty back the pin is 9291 hell pull out all that it will let you so I know I don't owe him anything and Javi could you take it to him please I really don't wanna see him, If he needs more just find out how much and pull it out" you say in a low voice handing Scott your card

"yeah y/n I'll give it to him" Javi said

"Sweetheart you have to eat something, so how bout we compromise I'll you get an order of those spicy tuna rolls we had last night and you can put them in the refrigerator for when you get hungry later hows that " Scott says running his hand through your hair

"ok" You smile up at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes

"Also keep your money I'll draw some out from my personal account for Javi to give him" Scott says handing back your card

"Scott no I cant let you do that, that's to much money you are already letting me stay in yalls room, I cant be a freeloader to yall too I have the money I promise"

"You are not a freeloader I want to do this for you, you've been through enough today, if it makes you feel better I'll let you buy me a coffee in the morning" Scott says with a wink

Before you can say another word Scott gives you a kiss before him and Javi leave, when you hear the door close behind you let the tears fall once again. What you thought was gonna be a great time with your brother has turned into a nightmare with your brother. You grab the remote and flip thru the channels until you land on some movie, you lay there watching it until you feel the morning catching up to you and you fall asleep

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

It's been about a month since your fight with your brother and he has been nonstop blowing up your phone but you were still so hurt that you just weren't ready to talk to him or see him. This was the longest time you have ever gone not talking to your brother and it was killing you, you missed your big brother but the words he yelled at you kept replying in your head. You also haven't done but 2 chases with Scott you have been mainly staying behind the scenes reading the data reports and radars for both teams again just another way to avoid your brother.

You moved hotels a few times and was back in a room to yourself, with some over night sleepovers with Scott. Things between you and Scott were going amazing and despite the fight with your brother you couldn't be happier. The two of you were still taking things slow nothing beyond some heated makeouts and getting a little handsy.

You were sitting in your room waiting for Scott to get done with their chase and texting Casey and Ashleigh in a group text

🩷Casey💛: Have you slept with him yet y/n😉

💛Ashleigh🩷: Oh I want details😉😉

Y/N: Yall no we have not had sex yet but plenty of making out and touching🫣

💛Ashleigh🩷: Is he a good kisser?

🩷Casey💛: And what do you mean touching?

💛Ashleigh🩷: Ohhhh I wanna know that too🤗

🩷Casey💛: Under the clothes or on top of the clothes🤔

💛Ashleigh🩷: Please tell us y/n we're your sisters and from the pictures you have sent he's so hot!🔥

Y/N: GIRLS lol ok ok I'll throw yall a bone, Yes is a very good kisser the best kisser EVER we spend hours making out😍, and as far as the touching its been a mix of both but we stop before it goes to far. But i love waking up in his arms he makes me feel safe like nothing bad can happen as long as hes beside me🥰

🩷Casey💛: AWWWWW my zeta bata little sis is in love ❤️ have you told him yet

💛Ashleigh🩷: I love LOVE❤️😁

Y/N: no I haven't said the words yet I don't know if he feels the same and I don't wanna scare him off I have never felt this way before I really see it all with him

🩷Casey💛: if you want my advice tell him the way you feel talk about him and the looks I see him giving you in all those pictures he totally feels the same, take a chance

💛Ashleigh🩷: I totally agree with Casey, you need to tell him you cant keep it in forever. Now have you and your hot brother made up yet?

Y/N: No thats a whole other story...

After another hour of texting your ZBZ sisters about the whole ordeal with your brother and what they are up too the door opens and Scott walks in looking tired but oh so sexy

"Hey babygirl " he greets you with a kiss on the forehead before putting his things down

"Hey baby" you smile standing up to wrap your arms around him pulling him down to your level in a heated kiss before pulling away and lightly pushing him down on the bed and straddle his lap.

"I like coming home to this baby"

"Oh well you are gonna love this" you say before running your hands through his hair and pulling him into another kiss this one with more passion and heat. He swipe his tongue over your bottom lip and you open granting him permission. He runs his hands up and down your back and under your shirt. You tug at his hair and a little moan slips out and you take advantage of and take his bottom lip between your teeth. Scott starts to kiss down your neck and nip at your pulses points and a moan leaves your mouth. All of a sudden Scott pulls away and looks at you.

"I love you y/n, I know it's only been a month and its ok if you don't feel the same but I couldn't go another second without telling you"

You stare at him in shock with tears forming before you speak up

"I love you too Scott"

Scott smiles back at you before flipping you on your back and hovers over you before pressing his lips to yours, in a kiss so heated and so full of passion your mind goes blank and the breath is stolen from your lungs. Just as things are really getting heated there is a knock at your door. You and Scott pull away and sigh as he rest his head on yours.

"I'll get it" you tell Scott as he rolls off of you and on to the bed.

You open the door and are face to face with your brother for the first time since your fight a month ago

"Tyler" you say arms folded over your chest

"I'm so sorry Jelly bean"

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

Season 1 episode 7 [The Thing Lay Still] - part 3/3

- Okay, the triple confrontation Daniel/Louis, Daniel/Armand and Louis/Louis is long but there's so much to say, I have to quote it entirely:

[Daniel] "Well, isn't that neat and tidy?" - THANK YOU DANIEL, I know I can always count on you to point out the flaws and holes in the fabric of Louis' recollection.

[Louis] "'There was a ship. We did get on it.'

[Daniel] 'Yeah, I read that, the first 50 pages. Not exactly the, uh, adventure-of-our-lives feeling I'm feeling.'

[Louis] 'It was a traumatic escape.'

[Daniel] 'Yeah, but she didn't say that explicitly. […] But, um… there's a feeling that she hated your guts there for a while. Why is that?'"

Trust Daniel to always see the little thing that would be inconsequential to anyone else.

[Louis] "'I was haunted by my brother's death, by the abandonment of my sister, by the murder of Lestat, I…'

[Daniel] 'Murder? What murder? It was an act of mercy. You didn't kill Lestat. You spared him out of some fucked-up idea you had about love.'

[Louis] 'Love? I bled him like a pig and waited for the death rattle.'"

Oh, Louis. You are so good at lying to yourself. Good thing Daniel's too much of an excellent investigative reporter to let you fool him like you're fooling yourself. Notice how Louis looks as Daniel undoes all his lies and smoke mirrors? Like he's still trying to cling so hard to the story he's told himself for the past 80 years, like the lie is the only thing that keeps him upright, like if he admits the love, admits he wanted to save Lestat, that would completely undo him and there would be no going back?

[Daniel] "You were shot point-blank by an alderman. You were dropped a thousand feet and survived. You torched Antoinette just to make sure. Where does the trash go, Louis? You take the trash down to the street, some guys show up in a truck and they throw it in the back, and then, they drive it out to the middle of nowhere, right? No. They take the trash to the dump. And having lived two blocks away from the dump just outside of Fishkill, New York, with my first wife, I can state, with authority, what else you'll find there. Rats. Big fucking rats, the size of Kevin Durant's sneakers. Enough blood in them to bring back the dead. Especially one in a trunk with locks on the inside. You knew it, Louis. You had to. The biggest rat eater of them all."

Thank you for bringing back Moonlight Sonata! Haven't figured out yet if it's intra or extradiegetic tho. I love its presence in this episode. It's my favourite piece of classical music (I know, very original) and it's so gothic par excellence.

Mention of the first wife, Alice/Armand, no, I will not get down from this hill.

I love how Daniel's theory posit Louis as having done some planning for himself outside of Claudia's and even Lestat's, with the trunks locking on the inside and the rats needed to revive.

[Rashid/Armand] "'This session is over.'

[Daniel] 'How many days in the Islamic year? How many names are there for Allah?'

[Rashid/Armand] '355 and 99.'

[Daniel] 'Why does a 200-pound bouncer pass out after he sucks him off, and you, a wet T-shirt away from 130, doesn't even blink?'"

Ha, Daniel said 'okay who the eff are you and why am I smelling bullshit'. Meanwhile Armand said 'oh shit we're getting too close to dangerous waters and Louis is about to lose it, better reassert control'. But also, Muslim!Armand. Definitely. Not a throwaway line, not just pretence. Rolin Jones I'm counting on you to not fuck this up.

[Louis] "'I couldn't burn him.'

[Daniel] 'But Claudia could.'

[Louis] 'No', she couldn't.'

[Daniel] 'She stuck a pen in his neck. She recorded his last words in his own blood. The girl did not have a fuckin' problem tossing him on the grill, okay?'"

And Louis' wall of lies is breaking and shattering… And the pebbles of the zen garden, his other big trauma, don't help either…

[Daniel] "You cursed her into the darkness. You chose Lestat over her time and time again. You don't need a memoir, Louis. You need a hundred sessions of EMDR. You know the shit they put soldiers through when they see one of their platoon buddies get blown up in front of them?"

Say it, Daniel! These messy vamps need therapy.

Making jokes to avoid the sheer anguish in Louis' face, voice and body language, both in the 1940 flashback (the image of Louis holding Lestat's body and yelling is tattooed on my eyelids) and in 2022 (Louis sitting in his zen garden hugging and rocking himself, eyes screwed shut, trying to block Daniel and Armand's voices and the memories lives rent free in my mind).

[Daniel] "'144 years and you're still Louis the Pimp, paying a whore to sit in a room and talk with you. 'Cause why? You got some story you wanna tell the whole world about yourself?'

[Rashid/Armand] 'When you hear it you'll be ashamed, ashamed of what you say to him now!'"

Please don't hold back, Danny, do tell us what you think exactly. But hey, Louis needs to hear it.

The fuck are you talking about, Armand… Also notice how agitated he is? Feeling protective of Louis, or feeling like he's losing control of the interview, the interviewee and the interviewer all at once?

Love Armand taking off is gloves in the background. So subtle, so crucial. And then the lenses.

[Daniel] "'This is the same shit that happened in San Francisco.'

[Louis] 'Not exactly.'

[Daniel] 'How is it any different, Louis?'

[Armand] 'This time I won't save your life. Louis can sometimes act out. I protect him from himself, always have. Stopped him that night in San Francisco.'"

Oh, hello, Armand's decided to play Superman. Aaaaah, Armand's orange eyes, I love them!!!

Can we talk about Armand's infantilisation of Louis? "He acts out, I protect him from himself"… Like a child that can't regulate his feelings and needs to be put on time's out. The manipulation is deep and multi-layered, it's not just the memory alteration. Notice how Louis is pretty much dissociating, staring at the grey wall, face slowly becoming inexpressive and voice returning to flat and empty, from the moment Armand started telling off Daniel?

[Daniel] "'You were there.'

[Louis] 'You don't remember.'

[Daniel] 'No, I don't remember.'

[Louis] 'What was that you said about memory? 'A monster', was it?'

[Daniel] 'But I saw you standing in the sun.'

[Armand] 'As we age, the sun loses its power over us. What's a mediocre star to a 514-year-old vampire?'

[Louis] 'Daniel Molloy, I'd like you to meet the vampire Armand, the love of my life.'"

One, don't be too cocky, Louis, there's plenty you don't remember about that night too yourself.

Two, and we've come full circle again, the monster memory making itself fully known after lurking all season long.

Three, shut up Armand, the Sun is not a mediocre star, it's part of the entire reason there's life on this planet, show some respect. Sun deities are some of the most frequent deities around the globe. You need to come back down to earth.

Four, all the books being out of reach to Louis, another way Armand's exerting subtle control.

Five, "love of my life", BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAGA *deep breath* HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAA, that line kills me every time I hear time. Why you lying Louis, stop fucking lying all the time. Sorry, Armand.

Daniel seeing them side by side and hearing that stupid line after listening to Louis ramble and compose poetry on the spot about Lestat for the past week or so: "hm. I sense bullshit of the highest degree. Time to destroy that whole tower of lies one by one.".

Aaaaaaaaaah, that was such a rich and intense episode!!!! What a grandiose season 1 final!!! So many different elements that have got to be revisited by other perspectives to get the full painting. So many seeds planted for season 2 and even season 3!! The writing is flawless, the acting is exquisite, the music is gorgeous, the costume, set design and stage direction are masterful. I am in love with this show.

ep1 | ep2 | ep3 | ep4 | ep5 | ep6 | part 1 | part 2

[crash-and-cure]

If I Were You Part 5 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: Love is the only rational act. Call him crazy or unhinged all you want, that sounds just about right to Elvis. 

A/N: Well... it’s been a minute. Sorry y’all I’ve been having to deal with a move recently which set me back alot in terms of finding free time to write but I’d rather it be late and good than early and rushed. This chapter is going to be from Elvis POV so if it feels like there is a bit of a heel turn from reader know that that is why. We’ll also be getting insight as to how reader has been feeling these last few months and how she handles what happened in this chapter in the next.

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and heavily delusional behavior as well as references to previous blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. Dubious consent in some areas. Inappropriate relationship with a Therapist (Though she is no longer one at the moment). Depictions of a therapy session. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), Daddy Kink, Praise kink, a bit of somnophilia (she does not stay asleep), vaginal fingering, and a tiny bit of anal play. Also mentions of Elvis' mommy issues, though he’ll never call them that and reader’s daddy issues because parallels. Period typical misogyny depicted and reflected by POV character’s attitude towards women in the orkplace. Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, emotional manipulation, heavy use of coercion, grabbing that leads to bruising and deception. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word count: 14K

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Masterlist

Humility is something Elvis always tries to work towards. Even as his star grew to new heights he could never have dreamed of before, he always in the back of his head felt as though he was just a step away from losing it all. And he almost did, not in the sense of losing the fame or the money, but he did lose sight of what he loved, in who he loved and 

But people didn’t stop loving him. 

He’s been honest with you that this was a heavy burden he had to bear, that need to fix himself not for his own sake but for others. The idea that him running himself ragged into an early grave felt less like a fear, and more like an inevitability. 

And yet he beat the odds, and now he looks forward to all that life has to offer now.  

Elvis tries to be humble, but it’s hard to do so when every morning he gets to wake up next to the most beautiful, most intelligent, and most caring woman in the world, with the full knowledge that you’re his alone. 

He never thought it was possible to love someone so deeply like this. 

Sure at first you yourself used to see an issue in this kind of love, but he eventually brought you around. Sure it can be an awful thing when someone is vile, and taking advantage of the other, but he knows he never has to worry about that from you. 

You take care of each other, and ain’t that what it’s all about? 

Those other people don’t know what the two of you got, and have never experienced a love like yours. If they could even experience a fraction of the love he felt for you, they would understand why nothing could keep him away from you. How cruel it would in fact be to keep either of you apart. 

Now as he holds you in his arms he’s content in the knowledge that no one has any right to do so. 

Those first few months of your relationship, there would be times when he woke up and even seeing you he couldn’t entirely trust it was truly you. His mind had played tricks on him before with all those other women he had had right before you, and he would have to feel the devastating grief that these women weren’t you. 

He doesn’t even remember most of their names, considering how many of them left because of how often he would say your name when he wasn’t being careful, it was probably for the best. Part of him wonders if any of them ever figured out they were stand-ins for you, the other part worries that he doesn't feel particularly guilty even if they did. 

But these worries quickly die as he looks down on your beautiful face. 

He liked seeing you so sleepy, those early months, it’s when you were most honest he thinks. Too tired to think too hard about anything save for the feelings he knows he brings out in you. Just awake enough to know what you’re doing and more importantly to know how to enjoy yourself. When you’re soft and pliable just the way he likes you, but just as ravenous and willful as any wildcat to really make him work up an appetite. 

He lifts the covers off of the both of you and he gets to see how the hem of your baby doll had ridden up well past your hips, and he licks his lips seeing his breakfast. 

He knows that your body wanted him before your mind did. That on some deeper level you wanted him, long before you could think so, let alone admit it. And he sees it in these moments as you’re still dead asleep but you squirm under his touch. Breathy sighs fall from your plush lips as he lazily brushes his fingers along your inner thighs  

He wonders what you dream about these days. You once told him how dreams can have any meaning you assign them to have, and it’s within his power to decide. 

He once told Priscilla that he was “all outta dreams,” and he could safely say he feels the same way with you. Before those words meant how he felt hopeless in such a bleak situation, but now they mean the utter contentment he feels everyday when he’s with you. 

Something you gave him, and in spite of all that he’s done to get you here, he will happily spend the rest of his days paying you back. You’ve helped him in ways you probably couldn’t imagine, as now, he wants for nothing but you anymore. 

And when his hand finally reaches into that warm piece of heaven between your legs, there is no hiding the way he makes you feel. You squirm under his touch, not having even been anywhere close to waking up. He hopes that he now occupies your dream world now as you have done since he’s met you. 

Your eyes don’t immediately shoot open, but you jump a little as he starts to drag you back to the waking world. With a half-lidded unfocused stare, you’re all lazy smiles and breathy moans as you buck your hips against his hand all the while your ass rocks against him, stirring up little Elvis from his slumber. He wonders if you believe you’re still dreaming, after all in his mind everyday with you feels like one. 

You’ve become so compliant since you left your job for him. You don’t gotta worry about no office to be at or other patients you need to see. You don’t mind being seen with him out and about anymore. You especially don’t mind the marks he leaves on you, which is a good thing especially now as he’s in a mood to mark you where he can today. 

But you, in your half-asleep state, apparently have other plans. He feels as you blindly reach between your legs to grab a hold of him, catching him off-guard slightly as he starts to feels his cock part your folds. Then without a word of warning you close your thighs, and it’s like a punch to the gut it feels so good. You’re warm as all get out, and your thighs are still slick from last night, but the major difference between this and your little love cavern is your teasing fingers that gently bring the very tip of him up to continuously nudge at your clit. 

It’s enough to drive any man insane. 

It truly takes everything within him to pull away from you, and from the needy little whine you give, you feel the same. He turns you around and puts you right to straddle his lap. Your head lolls a bit at the swift motion, not entirely awake, but you practically jolt awake when he grabs your behind. 

“Now why you gotta go teasin’ like that Mama,” he growls relishing in the feel of your ass beneath his fingers. He wonders how hard he would need to squeeze to leave a couple marks down there. 

“‘M sorry daddy,” you mewl unconvincingly, lowering yourself to kiss him, something you’re no longer scared to initiate. A sharp slap on your ass has you realizing he meant business right now. But still you wait for him to tell you what to do. 

He’s taught you well.

“Well now you gotta fix it Sweetheart,” he purrs, and you shudder as his thumbs glide up your inner thighs, . “Can’t have your daddy goin’ out there lookin’ like this now can we?”

You shake your head no and the desire to just bend you over and take you like an animal grew but he wanted you to finish what you started. Granted you may not have started this specifically this morning but there ain’t no getting around the fact that this all started with you. 

He bites his lip to really focus on you in that moment; that little contented sigh that would fall from your lips feeling the fat head of his cock brush up against your eager clit, before turning into a lazy smile, as you slowly but surely guide him to that place he loves so much. That filthy moan that falls from your lips as he finally begins the descent into your entrance, before it turns into a needy little whine as he slowly retracts his hips and before he suddenly slams them back into you full force. 

That little wiggle your ass does as you give a breathy “daddy” is all the encouragement he needs before he presses upward. One hand threads through his own right on your hip, while the other . The whiny little noises you make each time he even nudges that precious little spot you bashfully admitted only he was ever able to reach. 

The material of your nightie by now has fully slipped off your shoulders, now leaving it only as a useless ring of fabric around your waist. You don’t seem to mind a single bit as you eagerly bounce up and down his cock, your gorgeous tits on full display and, to his chagrin, offensively clear of any bruises. In fact a quick once over of your body shows that the marks he’s left on you before were already healing up. 

He’s really gotta do something about that soon. Afterall for as smart as you can be, you’re often liable to forgetting who you belong to. 

But for as tempting as your nipples can be, he actively has to stave off his own desires, just to fully appreciate the image before him. That of the good doctor fucking herself stupid on his cock as she shamelessly licks her own juices right off his fingers, and begs for more from her daddy while the early morning rays give an almost angelic appearance. But that image of purity is swiftly done away with as he reaches around you and with his still wet fingers he lightly presses on that tight ring of muscle you’re far too demure to ever ask him about but he knew you loved when he did this. And with tears in your eyes and unrestrained cries flying from your lips, you seemingly fall apart and your walls clamp down on him like a vice.

Truly there ain’t ever gonna be a more perfect woman, he thinks as feels euphoria rocket through him and he proceeds to paint your inner walls white. Your hips stutter as you try to catch your breath, still quivering through some aftershocks, and you try to catch yourself on your hand from fully collapsing into him. Well he ain’t having none of that, and he wraps his arms around you to bring you as close as possible to him, never wanting to let you go.

Though the absolute best part for him is that you no longer get that left over guilty look afterward. The shy act was cute the first few months but as time went on it lost its appeal and he wished you would stop treating him like something you had to feel ashamed of. But now when you open your eyes to look at him all he sees are equal parts adoration and hunger. And it’s all for him.

Thanks to you he’s gotten far better in terms of communicating what he wants from people and it’s probably the worst kept secret in all of Graceland how much he wants and needs you at any given moment. You're able to ignite him in ways no girl has ever been able to do, and he doubts there will ever be another like you.

Though he thinks he most especially loves mornings like these because it’s all the proof he needs that that old job of yours wasn’t worth all the trouble it was causing in your head. After all, how can anything that doesn’t hurt no one and makes you feel this good be bad?

He ain’t one to talk though, he remembers those early months when he did try to fight off his feelings for you.

It’s wild to think he ever had doubts about therapy. Dr. Wilson was fine so far in that he was able to help him through his addiction without making him feel awful about it while also helping him realize that there was a lot more going on in his need for the drugs that he wasn’t even aware of. He was always able to remain coolly neutral no matter what ever fucked up thing the rockstar had told him. Elvis got the sense that he had been at this so long and with so many different celebrities that hardly anything phased him at this point. Which was good in a way, didn’t make him feel so outta place there but it also felt so…impersonal. As though the person that came right before him or right after him would get the same advice and insights as he did. 

Overall he was fine in terms of easing him into therapy and being able to express his thoughts and feelings with someone without having to be afraid of being judged. But he will admit that Wilson did do right by him by recommending you in the first place. 

He still remembers that day, there was an odd sense of euphoria to not only have a name for what he had but also that there were specialists who could handle this sort of thing professionally. But at the same time it clashed with his hope of his life going back to the way it was any time soon.

“Co-dependency is a relatively new term within the psychology community, so there aren’t many who are equipped to handle this condition.” Wilson says, eyes firmly on his notes. “But you’re in luck as I believe there is a specialist located in the Memphis area last I checked.”

“Doc, you sure I even need this?” he would question, as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe, the material having become a tad bit scratchier than when he had arrived. “I mean I don’t, even get cravin’s for them pills no more.” 

“Yes Elvis, we’ve treated the more overt and life-threatening symptoms of your addiction, but we’ve yet to truly tap into the underlying cause. Without doing that you would be liable to fall right back into old habits all over again. Maybe not with the pills, but some other vice.” he says calmly. “It’s why we enforce rules as to moderation within the facility as oftentimes getting rid of one addiction will lead to seeking solace in another. You’ve done better than most in abstaining from the more overt addictions and in order to keep up with this, I think it would be best if you continue treatment with Dr. Y/L/N.”

Elvis has a long sigh at this but he does genuinely want to get better, yet he still holds doubt as to whether more of this is necessary. He thinks at best you will be able to show him what to look out for in people that could take advantage of him again and you could go your separate ways after a few sessions. After all he did at least want to show Priscilla that he was actually making an effort to get better, and what better way than to keep going to therapy. 

He hesitated a bit during that first call, when he found out you were a woman. He knows it’s a whole new era and women can work outside the home if they want and all that, but he still wasn’t too sure about it. And he ain’t never met a woman who called herself a doctor, so there was that. 

But he also knew himself well enough to know that any excuse he could get to get out of going he would take, and having to drive all the way from Memphis to Nashville was a pretty good one. Besides women are naturally good with talking and feelings and shit, so it kinda makes sense in a way to see a woman about this kind of stuff. So it was worth a shot. 

That all changed when he met you in person for the first time. What he almost immediately noticed about you was how warm your eyes were. Not necessarily in color, but how you looked genuinely happy to see him. And not just in the way he’s used to from women who want him, but more… something he can’t quite put his finger on. But when you looked at him for the first time he felt as though he was being seen as Elvis, not just as The Elvis Presely. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Presley, it’s nice to meet you.” You said to him with a friendly smile on your face and a firm handshake.

“Same here, Dr. Y/L/N,” he would say, as all of his doubts seemed to melt away. You were beautiful in a way he wasn’t used to, all professional and button-upped like a secretary yet also comforting and very approachable like a librarian. It was an odd combination no doubt but you pulled it off well. 

There’s something about you that just puts his mind at ease, not only as you talk but as you listen. He felt like he was being heard instead of just listened to, which isn’t something he ever realized was lacking in his life. When you sat there you looked as though you could listen to him talk for hours, not the slightest bit of impatience to be seen. And the way you looked at him as he talked, as much as you may have been trying to hide it, he saw that you felt what he felt when talking about these things, his joy in performing, his sadness over the state of his family, his anger at Colonel. 

That was another thing, the little tidbits of advice you gave, that in retrospect seem so obvious, but hearing it from you that Parker didn't have any control over him anymore and he didn’t have to call him something that made it look like that. It’s hard to believe you're younger than him and yet so much wiser.

There was one thing you said to him toward the end of that first session and you were talking about his goals overall. 

“There’s a lotta things I want Doc,” he says. “I want my family back. I want to get back with ‘Cilla. I want to get back into music and perform again. I… want to know what to look out for so I don’t make the same mistake again.”

That last one apparently peaks your interest, as you say with a gentle smile on your lips, “Mr. Presley, many people when they walk into my office expect to be given answers as to their conditions or the issues ongoing in their lives. But the reality is that I don’t have the answers but what I can do is act as a guide so that you may be able to find what you may be looking for in a healthy and effective manner.” 

”I-I think I see what you’re sayin’ Doc,” he says. “A-and you can call me Elvis,” he states, ifa bit shyer this time around.

“Of course Elvis,” you say with a smile radiating warmth. “Now, as we’re getting towards the end of our session, I would like to express my goals for you.” 

He’s very curious as to what you have to say, so he leans forward eager to listen.

“Elvis, contrary to what it may sound like, my goal is not to espouse total self-reliance and to never trust anyone again. Nor is it for you to simply find ‘better’ people to rely on totally,” you say. “My goal for you, as it is for all of my patients, is to trust yourself most of all to know what’s best for you. Good or bad, regardless of another's opinions, these are your choices to make.” 

Those are simple words but they have a monumental impact on his perspective of things. And for the first time in a long time he looks at you and sees someone he can trust to do right by him. 

And now the first thing he’s gonna trust himself about, it’s that you’re gonna be good for him overall.

It was a bit difficult to get into the whole routine of seeing you, especially as he didn’t want certain people in his circle knowing that he was even still going to therapy. Not even necessarily because he feared it would somehow get back to the papers but because most of them were all under the same belief that therapy was just a crock of shit and all he needed to do was man up. So he just simply didn’t bring it up to them specifically and let only a few people really know what he was doing. And only they know just so they can sufficiently cover his ass when he’s out with you. 

None of them seemed to mind his scheduled “alone times” too much since he always came back and nothing newsworthy would happen so they let him be. 

Over the next few weeks he found himself looking forward to sessions with you. He’s taking his health seriously, he’s getting to see Lisa more and more, he’s sleeping better, everything in his life is slowly but surely improving thanks to you. Though the better sleep had its flaws as he had been having some weird dreams for awhile. Not so much nightmares, but they definitely left him with some odd feelings in the morning. 

They almost always started off the same way, he was back on that couch in Dr. Wilson’s office and the way he was being spoken to, it felt less like therapy and more like an interrogation. He would never remember what he was being asked, but the longer it went on the worse he would feel. 

And then you walk into the office and Wilson disappears. In the beginning you would simply take Wilson’s seat, and he feels himself start to relax. Something about you just made it easy to do so. You could even be asking the same questions Wilson was asking, but you’re far gentler in your delivery, and it helps ease the answers out.

A lot of his dreams have been going this way but recently you’ve been getting closer and closer, and now you sit beside him on the sofa. You would rub his back, play with his hair and even sometimes hold his hand all the while listening to what he had to say. Which then progressed to him even laying his head in your lap.

He vividly remembers how he would nuzzle into your chest as you continuously ran your nails through his hair. Neither of you speak but he can’t recall ever feeling so at peace than in those imaginary moments with you. 

Of course there were also less than wholesome dreams where he the ones where you ride him right into the couch or he takes you on your desk. Though arguably the most memorable had to be when he rested his head on your lap as he’d done in his dreams a million times before and you would slowly unbutton your blouse. 

Undoubtedly one of the most fucked up things he’s ever dreamt as you proceeded to jerk him off as he sucked on those gorgeous tits of yours. But still he couldn’t get out of his head that look of utter adoration in your eyes as you threaded your fingers in his hair and whispered how he was a good boy.

He woke up that morning needing to literally peel his pants off of him. 

He’s not an idiot. He has a daughter and so he knows what that could only look like from the outside. He has a pretty good idea what it may mean, seeing you in such a motherly role, but he’s also seen Psycho and knows he’s far from dressing up as his Mama to stab women in the shower. So really it doesn’t mean anything.

“Doc?” he asks, and you look up from your notes. He knows he should probably bring up the dreams, as you’ll definitely have something to say about it. But seeing you in that Turtleneck that made your tits look phenomenal made his brain short circuit a bit, and he worries even hinting at anything like this may scare you off and have you believing he’s a Norman Bates type. So instead he asks, “Why don’t you got one a them couches?”

Your brow furrows at that. “A… fainting couch?” You ask tentatively.

“That’s the one,” he snaps his fingers. “Why don’tcha got one of those?”

“Oh, well…” you say, pausing to bite your lip, looking for the right words. This simple act causes him to swallow hard, and he prays you don’t notice as you continue. “Given the patients I work with, I find that keeping us on the same level is far more beneficial than the alternative. It acts as a good reminder that we’re equals in this environment,” you explain with a gentle smile.

“Same level huh?” he questions. “So if I sat down on the floor you would follow?”

“If that’s where you feel most comfortable,” you say amused.

He doesn’t exactly know why, but part of his brain took that as a challenge, while the other part wanted to really test as to whether or not you would follow through. In either case he gets off his chair only to lie flat on his back on the shag carpet of your office. He looks back up and sees you raise an eyebrow at his antics, with a look of “seriously?” on your face. There is a bit of a stare down before you let out a small defeated sigh before you make motions to follow suit. 

“Don’t say I’m not a woman of my word,” you would explain as you lay down on the floor parallel to him, though the table kept a good distance between the two of you. Not an easy feat for you considering you were wearing a skirt that day, but in spite of that you were somehow able to make the act look as dignified as possible. Though that doesn’t prevent a brief but very dangerous image of you hiking up your skirt and taking a seat over his face. 

Woah… Where did that come from? he would ask himself as he ripped his eyes away from you and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Comfortable?” Both real and fantasy you would question. 

“Very,” he would answer, lying only slightly.

You give a mirthful smile before you get right back to business. “Now that we’re down here, I would like to discuss some of your risk-taking behavior upon your return from Germany,” 

“I wouldn’t say layin’ down on the floor is risky,” he quips. He’s trying hard to not focus on the gap that’s appeared between the buttons of your shirt nor the way that your notebook keeps your skirt from sliding down further. But at the same time focusing on your face right now feels dangerous for some reason he can’t quite place.

Something blooms in his chest when he hears you huff in amusement at him. “I’ll admit not my most graceful of transitions, but my point still stands. When you look back on your time after your return stateside, do you believe you were doing things that were considered far more risky?”

“I mean… I guess,” he would admit. “Aside from the drugs, nothin’ too wild, really. Just pushin’ each other down… and drivin’ around real fast… and shootin’ fireworks at each other… I see what your sayin’.” It’s funny that he only now realizes just by talking to you about them. 

“And nobody ever protested to you doing these things?” 

“Well my daddy did at first, but then stopped once he figured I wouldn’t stop. Most times it was The Colo-shit! Parker… he was the one who always made big stink ‘bout what I was doin’ if it was dangerous or made me look bad.” 

You bring your pen to your mouth, simply resting it on your lips, mulling over his words before you say, “Elvis correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds to me that Parker occupied a very… parental role in your life?”

“I guess,” he says, unsure of it until a long dormant memory comes barreling to mind as he recalls his own words to that man from what felt a lifetime ago. “I even said as much to him at my own Mama’s funeral.” He says covering his eyes, and taking a deep breath, willing no tears to fall right in front of you. “I feel like such a fool.”

And then he feels something on his palm. He looks to his side to see that your hand now holds his. It’s such a simple gesture, one that anybody could have done, but coming from you it feels like everything.

“Elvis…” you start off slowly, your thumb rubbing soothing lines onto the back of his hand. “Grief is a terrible thing to experience. It can knock out your knees and snatch the breath right out of your lungs. And it’s certainly not uncommon for people like that to take advantage of those in such a vulnerable position.” you say in your most soothing voice. 

“Don’t think less of yourself for staying as long as you did. Instead I ask you to think of it as you left when you were ready to do so.”

He has to pause to contemplate your words for a second there, because it’s such a simple twist of perspective but it seems to make all the difference as he feels a long present weight of guilt lift. “Yeah… yeah you’re right,” he says, his chest filling with a sense of warmth he hadn’t realized he’s been missing for a while now. “I-I took all of the rat bastards shit for years, because I could take it… a-and I left when I didn’t want to do that no more.” 

“Exactly,” you say, slipping out of his grasp and giving a friendly pat on his hands as you return to your side of the table. 

The rest of the session is pretty light, all things considered, talking about Music, something he can do at literally any given moment and he left your office that day with a newfound appreciation for women’s office wear. He gets the sense that it’s very intentional on your part. The way you can steer a conversation is so fucking impressive and it served you well when you were dodging something.

But he eventually learned your ways. And he was able to get you to open up about yourself like when you learned his favorite hero growing up was Captain Marvel Jr. and you confided in him your favorite was Wonder Woman, and how you learned to appreciate her even more when you learned she was created by a Psychologist. Or when he told you about his sleep troubles and you taught him your trick to falling asleep was to eat Pancakes, something that came as a bit of a routine from your waitressing days since that was your usual order at the end of your shift. Little things that made you more than just his shrink to him. 

He swears he didn’t realize what he was doing at first, and it wasn’t until Jerry pointed it out to him that same night. He and the rest were at some show that he doesn’t really remember, and he sees you walk past the table he was at. He’s so caught off guard that he even turns his head fully around as you walk away.

Jerry knows about his therapy and tends to cover for him when he goes to see you, but has never actually met you, so it surprised him when Jerry asked if he wanted him to go get you for him. 

He’s glad for the low lighting of this place as he doubts he would otherwise be able to hide his inflamed face right now. “What? No… No. Wh-why’d ya’ think I want her?”

“Well she’s your type ain’t she?” he asks, glancing at the bar behind Elvis’ shoulder where you’re standing. Elvis is trying hard not to look back because the dress you’re wearing is far more revealing than he’s ever seen you wear, and he doubts if he keeps looking he’ll be able to stop, still that question eats at him. 

“The hell are you on Jer?” 

“EP, you’re a lot a things,” Jerry says as he gets up, patting him on the back. “Subtle ain’t one a them.” 

He knows one more word and Jerry will stop and not approach you, but something stops him from doing so. He figures you’re going to say no anyway, as you made it clear in your first session that you were never going to approach a patient in public, and that’ll be the end of that. Still the thought of you saying no does leave a sour taste in his mouth that the whiskey can’t quite chase away. He steals a glance over his shoulder and with the better lighting at the bar he realizes that that girl ain’t you. Her nose is a different shape, hair color is not quite right in the new light, and this girl doesn’t have quite the same dignified posture that you’ve got.

He shakes his head at these thoughts. It’s ridiculous that he even thought that was you for even a second. You work everyday and he doubts this would be your scene on a Thursday night. He imagines you would be in bed by now or at least settling by this time. You have the look of a good girl who reads at night to fall asleep and he can just about picture the way you would look lounging against a headboard that looks suspiciously familiar. This line of thought leads to him idly wondering what you wear to bed at night, which is quickly broken when Jerry approaches with the girl. 

The girl has a face-splitting grin and in her eyes, he finds that star-struck look he’s seen in hundreds of other women's eyes before her. Despite her eyes being similar in color he can’t help but be reminded of the stark difference in your eyes when he met you for the first time. She’s seeing a god where you saw a man.

Still he tries to give the girl, Jackie, a fair shake, but the longer the night goes on the more he has to pick apart. Her voice is a little too high-pitched to be yours. Her make-up, not as pristine as yours usually is. Even her nails seem to annoy him as they are a little longer than how you usually keep them, and they only really drew his attention while she was drumming them along the table as he spoke. The girl is practically shaking in her seat, itching to get out of here with him. 

Well at least this one knows what she wants, he thinks to himself as he asks if she would mind a more quiet place to talk. 

It’s wrong on so many levels what he’s doing, and he recognizes that as he puts his arm around her shoulders and leads her out of the place. Jane gushes about how big of a fan she’s been since she was a kid and how this is a dream come true. All Elvis could really focus on is if he squints just hard enough he can almost see you saying that to him, and that’s just enough to get him going, as he buries his face into the girl's neck, and he hears sweet moans he wishes came from you. 

Jenna was gone come morning, and Elvis is glad for that small mercy. And in the early morning rays, Elvis is left alone with his thoughts, and he gets to truly think about the women he’s been with recently. He thinks of Shannon who drew his eye when he got a whiff of her perfume, and it happened to be the same one he knows you’ve worn before, and he would bury his face in her neck as he pounded into her. Amy whose hair was almost the exact same color as yours and whom he really only liked taking from the behind without truly looking at her face. Carol whose voice sounded eerily close to yours and in the dark he was able to imagine someone else entirely as she moaned his name over and over again. And finally there was Jamie who was almost the spitting image of you save for a few things here and there.

It’s nothing, he tries to lie to himself. 

It doesn’t matter.

They don’t matter. 

They shouldn’t matter really, they were all gone before the morning came, so obviously none of them weren’t interested in anything serious. Which is good…

…Right?

It fucks with his head something fierce, that he ends up bringing it up the next time he sees you. “I think I lost my way with women.” he would say as soon as he sat down, before you even got a chance to crack open your little notebook. 

You quickly put the pen between your lips, in that cute way he likes, to hold while you open your notebook, and ask “in what regard Elvis?” This has got to be a sign as to how comfortable he’s gotten with you. He would never have dared to talk about something like this with anyone else, not so much because he feared that he would be laughed at, but because more than likely he would be plastered with denials and reassurances as to how much of a ladies man he still is, without ever even getting into detail why he felt like that. 

Still he finds himself clamming up, wishing to take the words back, shame burning in his belly over these thoughts. You were having none of it, as you put down your notebook and pen on the table between the two of you and lean forward. “Elvis you can talk about this with me,” you coax in your softest voice, something he’s come to expect look forward to. 

He smiles at this as he’s come to appreciate this about you. You get right to work and listen as he expresses his fears about his romantic life. You’re a great listener, though he supposes that comes with the job, but in the way you move and watch him, he never doubts that you are. You’re always watching him, you rarely if ever glance at the clock, and nothing about your body language ever says that you’re getting tired of hearing him talk. Even Wilson had that annoying leg bounce thing toward the end of sessions with him. 

The only thing he could really complain about was how often you touched your lips while listening. Whether it was simply resting a fist to your mouth or pinching your bottom lip, you’re almost always doing something of the like when you’re concentrating he’s noticed. He doubts you’re doing it on purpose, but he still finds it very distracting. That being said he was never about to tell you to stop. 

“Elvis as I understand this dilemma you’re having,” you say. “You’re worried that the only type of women you attract these days are women who are not seeking long-term relationships.” 

“I don’t know Doc, it might be nothin’,” he says, still trying to downplay how uncomfortable the concept makes him. “

“If it bothers you Elvis, then it’s not nothing,” you gently encourage. “People thrive on connections to one another, and I’m glad to see that you’re taking steps to establish new connections after all that you’ve faced before. Perhaps these women aren’t all opposed to a romantic relationship, but they may perhaps be under the impression that you are, given your fame.” 

“So my reputations workin’ against me on this,” he asks solemnly. 

“In a sense, yes. Reputation is a bit of a funny thing like that,” you say. “It’s not so much your actions that make it up, but other’s perceptions of said actions. And if you feel you’re ready to embark on a new long-term relationship, then I would encourage you to start on a solid foundation of honesty.”

“What do you mean? Tell them I’m lookin’ to get married again?”

This gets a small huff of laughter out of you, “Perhaps not that strong in the beginning,” you say. “But something along the lines of… ‘when can we meet up again?’ just a little something like that to establish that you are at the very least interested in a long-term relationship.”

“Doc, would you wanna be with me,” he says, and he would be lying if he says he didn’t enjoy the way your eyes practically bugged out of your head before he recovered with a “or someone with a reputation like me?”

You try to pass off your sigh of relief as simply a deep breath before you answer with, “I personally try not to let others' perceptions of potential partners affect my own feelings toward them. And I reassure you that there are others of the same mind and should you signal that you want something more… permanent, you’ll find someone.” you say with a reassuring smile on your face. “While we’re still on this topic as to your romantic life…” you trail off slightly. “You stated one of your goals in therapy was to rekindle your relationship with your Ex-Wife. Is she the one you’re talking about trying to have a relationship with?”

“... no,” he sighs, as he eyes you sitting directly across from him. “I-I love her and all but… I-I don’t know if I want her in the same way I did before. And… I-I think I want someone else.” He thinks this is the first time he’s been able to say this out loud, but it admittedly does feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he admits to it. You give a soft, reassuring smile at his words, and while he knows that it’s probably because you’re happy to see him moving forward with his life, a small part of him wants to believe it’s because you want him to be available.

“I understand, Elvis,” you reassure him. “And rest assured that should you at any point choose otherwise you’re, of course, free to do so.”

He leaves later on reassured in his worth as a partner, but the thought that you had been approached by men before leaves an otherwise good meeting with a sour note. That’s the first time he realizes that you have a life outside of your office and somehow worse, you have other patients you talk to. It’s like seeing a teacher at a grocery store and realizing they don’t live at school.

He knows it ain’t right to feel this way, that you’re a person too, who has more to offer than just what you do for your job. But he can’t help the way he feels. Saddest part is the person he would go to talk about these feelings with is the person he has to talk about. 

And so rather than actually dealing with it, head on he tried to satisfy these feelings for you in other ways, but he promised himself he would never act on them. 

At least… not yet.

It was working for a time, he would see you twice a week, he would bear his soul to you alone, and slowly but surely you also opened up to him as well. There were small comments here and there about simple preferences which eventually gave way to you talking a bit about your time and school and your friends, and to his relief you never brought up any sort of boyfriend. But outside of your office he accepted that he did in fact have a “type” and most of his boys made it their mission to find girls that look even a little bit like you. 

And yet the more he saw you, the more he fell for you. 

After the wine incident he knew he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted anymore and he gradually started to lay the groundwork in order to make that happen. 

When he would casually slip in pet names for you, kiss the back of your hand, or even when he would linger a little too long after a session you never said anything about it. And he always took that as an opportunity to go further and further each time. 

He even started reading up on Psychology, and to his surprise some of it was down right fascinating, especially learning how it stems from Physiology meeting Philosophy. Sure the dog studies and the Milgram experiment ended up being very useful to him later on, but he does believe Freud was onto something there. But he can’t wrap his head around why you tend to get very skittish when you do on occasion bring up his Mama.

He likes to think she would’ve liked you very much for how smart and responsible you are. She maybe wouldn’t have loved the whole working outside of home thing, but he eventually fixed that. 

The same way he taught himself to play music was the same way  he got you to fall in love with him: laser-sharp focus and unwavering persistence.

But then you had to go and almost throw that all away. You spat in the face of his gift and tried to reprimand him for doing a nice thing for you. So he had to play it cool for a while after that. You seemed to retreat a bit from him, but you were no less warm and caring for him. You even stopped really remarking when he would “accidentally” bump into you when you’re out and about. 

But no dice the next time he tried. It was only as Jerry returned with a guilty look on his face did he realize his mistake in A. sending someone else and B. not framing it as a part of his therapy, which he knows you wouldn’t have refused. 

“EP…” Jerry says lightly. “Y-your shrink…”

“What ‘bout her Jerry,” Elvis asks in no mood after your refusal.  

“I-I noticed that she-she kinda looks like some a the girls you been seein’,” he swallows a bit. Seemingly praying to god he’s wrong about this.

“No,” the rockstar says simply, not really caring to beat around the bush anymore, and Jerry seems almost relieved until he continues. “They look like her,” and for as callous as it sounds he can’t even muster an ounce of sympathy for them, as though it’s their fault that they’re not you. But the reality is, none of them could hold a candle to you, and they only matter so far in preventing him from getting too frustrated with how slow you're taking things. 

“Elvis… I-I don’t think it-it’s such a good idea to get so… involved with your doctor again,” Jerry would say tentatively, unsure how he would react. 

“Jerry,” he says, trying to control his temper, and remembering those breathing exercises you went over with him. “I think my business is my business.”

“I-I know but-”

“But nothin’ Jerry!” he yells. “Y’all had fuck all to say when I was runnin’ myself in the grave! And now that I’m gettin back on track, now you wanna step in?!” Jerry gaped at him, before quickly shutting his mouth, a guilty look taking over his face as he looked down at the ground, having nothing to say. “Get the fuck outta my face Jerry.”

Jerry and the rest that knew about you since the beginning would eventually come around on you, seeing hat you did for him and how much he needed you. It served him all the better later on. Though now that all feels like ancient history now, especially now that you’re together in private, in public, and pretty soon under the eyes of the lord.

As far as you know Elvis didn’t want to acknowledge the “blackmail” and simply announced your engagement. He didn’t even want to acknowledge Parker, as that would imply there’s anything wrong with your relationship that he could have exploited.

The way he tells the story is that a couple months after rehab, he was out and about in Memphis when you caught his eye from across the room. He described it as nothing short of love at first sight, but the problem was he had no idea how to approach a woman as sophisticated as you. It was made all the worse when he did approach and you introduced yourself as Dr. Y/L/N, you weren’t so awestruck by him, and in fact talked to him like a normal person. He was so caught off guard that when you had revealed that you were a therapist he jumped at the chance and said he had been looking for one in the area after rehab and you had given him your business card.

How the next few months were about how you became his therapist, and how he was more or less scheming to sweep you off your feet the moment he could. How you tried your best to keep things professional until you could no longer deny your feelings nor could he deny his. None of which was a lie, but he did have to clean up the story for the reporters (didn’t stop Penthouse from begging for the dirtier details).

The story was simple, almost the ideal story of the recovery of a troubled man and how it was the love of a good woman that helped him heal from all of it (Say what you will, he knows you’ve loved him longer than you’re willing to admit). And the people ate it up. 

Everybody could see how good you were for him, how he’s back and better than ever because of your efforts. 

He wishes you wouldn’t focus so much on the others who want to make this out as a bad thing for either of you. They don’t know you and they especially don't know him, so how can they judge what either of you do. That board of therapists may say that the two of you being together is wrong, and for a time you may even have believed that but he knows in his heart of hearts that this was meant to be. 

Afterall you yourself showed him how other people’s perceptions of you shouldn’t affect your own perception of yourself. 

As far as days in Graceland it’s a pretty typical and quiet one, Mary makes the two of you breakfast, you both practice tai chi while it’s still early, you sit with him at the piano as he worked on music, and later he would bend you over the piano so you could make some music for him, you have lunch. It’s looking to be a perfect day. 

You’re never too far from him anymore but he doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough of you. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sometime after lunch, Jerry comes around with those books you ordered. As much as you tried to hide it at first, he could see you were excited for the world tour. Studying up on the history of practically every city he was going to be performing in, trying to learn a couple languages, sharing almost everything with him. 

You look so in your element when you’re reading, and he can’t help but intrude and make his dreams into a reality. You're startled at first as he rests his head in your lap, but you quickly adjust and ease into the new position.

He’s close to purring with the way you run your nails along his scalp, so familiar and comforting a gesture that it’s not long before his eyelids go heavy and he finds himself drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face. 

With you around, sleep is coming easier and easier these days. You worry about this, fearing that he would become too dependent on you for sleep. 

He can’t help it that you’re such a dependable person. 

He would wake up later, only the slightest bit distressed that you were gone, but he knows that you wouldn’t have gone too far. And he didn’t have to look too hard to find you, as you stepped out of your dressing room, and sees you wearing something very familiar.

He doesn’t think he'll ever forget that night.

He thought at the time that nothing could happen between you two. He had accepted that at first, tried to content himself to having you in his life in whatever way he could, even if only platonically. He admits he may have stalled some days, especially the sessions after you would remark how far he’s come in therapy, all in order to drag out his time with you. 

It truly felt like the stars had aligned for the both of you that night. He wasn’t really one for fancy places like this, any other day he would have taken a cheap little diner, but he had been craving a real good steak for a while and figured some fancy place like this would be his best bet. Imagine his surprise when he just idly glanced down at the reservation book and saw your name.

He had been hoping to build something between the two of you outside of your office for a while by that point, but that day you just so happened to have ended up at the same restaurant as him. This just solidified in his head that the two of you were meant to be, because it couldn’t be just a coincidence that the two of you ended up at the same place that night. He gathered up the nerve to approach you that night, thinking about what you said as to how you would like to be approached by a man, ready to put himself out there. 

His breath hitches as he sees the little white dress you’re wearing and his palms sweat a bit when he approaches. Overall he feels like a kid trying to ask the prettiest girl for a dance, terrifying yet exhilarating all the same.

“Dr. Y/L/N, funny meeting you here,” Elvis would say in his best attempt to sound casual. 

“Mr. Presley, how are you?” you would say, surprise evident in your eyes but the small smile on your face genuine as any. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”

“Are you here alone?” he gently probes, trying to figure out a way to get the rest to leave the table if he can get you to join him. 

“No, my date is just in the restroom.” you say pointing in the general direction of the bathroom.

Something almost akin to betrayal flashes through him in that moment, but he quickly tries to stamp it down as even he realizes that he had no right to feel that way. “Well, have a good night.” he says, trying to be as amiable as possible. 

“You too,” you say with an uneasy look in your eyes. 

Gorgeous girl like her, it’d be crazy for her not to have a date, he thinks, sitting back down with his buddies. Not a single one of them acknowledges what just happened and somehow it feels all the worse. Still it doesn’t sit right with him, the idea of you being out of your office and looking so beautiful and only to waste it on some undeserving mook. 

But… in all the months he’s been seeing you, he ain’t ever seen a ring on your finger, so he doubts it’s that serious. He can’t see your table, which he’s thankful for, because it at least removes the temptation to keep looking your way. But with how sparsely populated the restaurant is at this point he can just barely make out your voice, and he can clearly hear your laugh. It’s such a beautiful thing to hear, and it takes him fully out of the conversation he’s having with Sonny, which pretty much makes all of them take notice of how weird he’s acting but they won’t say anything about it. 

But quickly bitterness takes over in his mouth when he hears the accompanying chuckle from your faceless companion. Especially when he’s only ever awarded small huffs of amusement in your office while that motherfucker can get you to laugh like that.

… He really shouldn’t be thinking like this… 

It practically spits in the face of all you’ve been doing for him to go back to his old jealous ways. He drinks some of the wine to calm himself down and earnestly tries to go back to the talk he was having. 

He does try, but by the third glass in, he becomes a bit distracted by the wine. He’s not usually much of a fan of the stuff, but even he can appreciate a good bottle when he has it. Not too sweet but just enough to mask the burn of alcohol, while pairing well with his steak.

All he’s really thinking at that moment is how much you would probably appreciate it too. So he flags down the stuffy waiter and insists that a similar bottle be brought to your table, on him of course. 

He doesn’t really think too much of it, and later as Charlie’s doing his best impression of Parker to a host of hoots and hollers from the rest, does the waiter return. “Your friends send their thanks for the wine,” he says simply walking away. 

So you took it… he finds it very interesting. 

If there was nothing there, you could have said no and he would’ve put it behind him. But you accepted the wine… there had to be something more to it. Especially since you were on a “date” with another man, and what woman accepts a drink from another man if she wasn’t at the very least interested. 

As he leaves, there is a part of him that aches leaving you behind, especially with another man, and the only solace he takes is that you accepting that bottle of wine had to mean something. 

His home feels achingly empty as he walks in, even as he’s surrounded by his buddies. He’s trying to follow your advice with the whole set sleep schedule thing so it’s only midnight by the time he walks through his front door. 

Even if come Monday you flat out reject him, he tries to content himself to have you just be his therapist. How maybe even after you graduate him out you can still continue being friends outside of your office and he won’t have to lose you as well.

Still all of that rings hollow that night as he recalls furiously jerking himself off in his bed, tears streaming down his face and your name on his lips, as he thought of you in that dress. What’s worse is that the fantasy he has of you is not even necessarily erotic, and by most standards, it’s practically mundane. But it’s precisely because of how normal it is that it feels so foreign yet nonetheless attractive to him, and thus far more dangerous than any wet dream he’s had of you before. 

He imagines bringing you to Graceland from the restaurant. How you would strip yourself of that dress, effortlessly seductive as you swap it for a nightie, and how you would get a little bashful as you notice him staring before crawling into bed beside him. But unlike other dreams he has of you, you simply lay back and allow him to bury his face in your chest. “What’s on your mind Elvis?” you would ask him. 

He can almost feel the scrape of your nails on his scalp, as you listen to his woes. The slight rise and fall of your chest as he rests his head on it. How all of your ministrations are comforting and relaxing rather than teasing or playful, like your content to simply sit and be with him alone rather than doing anything else. Like you’re there for him, not for Elvis Presley.

He wanted that. He wanted you. 

And now he has you.

And nothing will ever take you away.

“Mmm, I remember this,” he hums to you while wrapping his arms around your waist as you put the finishing touches to your face. You preen under his attention, and wriggle a little as his fingers brush the hem of your skirt, both of you practically itching for a repeat of that first concert. 

While in general he would have preferred you wore something he gave you, he has no doubt that the dress is not gonna survive the night once you get home. 

“Where you headin’ lookin’ this good?” he asks, trying not to sound too sore about it. 

You sigh as you put down your brush, squaring your shoulders as though you’re about to step into a battlefield. “Ma’s throwing me a Bridal shower remember,” you answer. 

Yeah he does remember, but he honestly wishes you hadn’t. Though he can hardly begrudge you for being less than ecstatic about your party, as he also doesn’t want you to go but for very different reasons. Try as he might, he couldn’t justify going with you, and just the idea of you being out of reach made his stomach uneasy. His only solace in the situation was that he was able to convince your Mama to not invite any of your old college girlfriends, as the last thing he needs is for any of them to be putting ideas in your head again. 

Besides, it marks the first time in awhile since he’s gotten all of his buddies together at once, so he’s determined to enjoy the night as much as he can without you. He thinks he’s had his fill of the bachelor life, so his party ain’t nothing too crazy all things considered. 

For as much as he did clean house once he booted Parker out, there were still those in his circle he could do without personally but still served their purposes well. 

He’s made it clear he won’t stand for any of them talking any kind of nonsense about you, but that doesn’t stop them from bemoaning the “life” he’s giving up all in order to get hitched yet again. The partying, the girls, the drugs he would give up ten times over for you. 

By midnight he’s even close to calling it for the night hoping that you’ll be home soon.

For as much as they rag on him for becoming so domesticated he’s well aware of the fact that they are nonetheless happy for your presence in his life. He knows that while some of them are genuinely glad that he’s now better for his own sake, he’s all too aware that some of them only “care” because their very livelihoods depend on him.

Not you though. What you gave up when you thought you were protecting him, you proved yourself to be far more caring and loyal than anyone he’s ever met. And he rests easier knowing you’re watching out for him, even at a great cost to yourself. 

It almost makes him feel guilty for what he had to do.

Almost.

And, as though summoned, you make your way through the front door. The second you walk in, he loses interest in just about everything else in the room. You look like you just got through twelve rounds with Muhammad Ali.

He already knows you don’t got the best relationship with your folks but understands you couldn’t get out of going without raising questions. But if it went bad it saves him the trouble from having to talk you out of visiting them too often. 

Truly it makes his heart soar the way you light up a bit upon seeing him and he hopes 

And then it goes to shit. 

He sees you lazily look around the room, probably trying to figure out a tactful way to get rid of them all. But then your brow furrows, and you give the entire room a once over again, and then you seem to look intently at every single person in the room as though you’re tallying them up. And once you finish that, it only seems to distress you more. 

You’ve got that same look in your eye when you’re reading your mysteries, with your brow furrowed and your hands to your lips. He’s confused as to what may be going on in that pretty little head of yours, until he looks around and remembers that ALL of his buddies are here now.

Something that shouldn’t be if he had really handled the ones that had apparently squealed the two of you out to Parker.

Huh… you figured it out just like that, he thinks. This is honestly what he gets for choosing a smart one like you, but he can't say he’s not a little proud that you were able to do so. Besides it’s not much of a choice when it’s meant to be. 

He takes one last puff off his cigar before stamping it out into the accompanying ashtray, after all no use in trying to pretend anymore. You're cracking a case wide open in your head and he figures there ain’t no point in drawing it out for much longer. 

“Hey Charlie,” he draws out, and your eyes snap back to him, apparently terrified to be proven right. 

“Yeah EP?” he answers, always the good friend who would go along with any plan regardless of how he personally felt about it if it meant getting him back on track. 

“Why don’tcha do that voice,” he says smiling a bit as his friends goes a bit ashen at the request. “Always gets a good laugh.”

Charlie thinks he’s subtle when he steals a glance your way. He is not. 

“You sure ‘bout that EP,” he asks, nervously swallowing, his eyes begging to not have to do this. Which gets the attention of all of them, and some of them shift uncomfortably at what’s about to go down, downing the last of their drinks and nervously gathering their things hoping to make a quick getaway. The ones who don’t know are looking at Charlie anticipating a good laugh but they quickly pick up on how worried he looks and quickly follow suit, figuring nothing good would come of this. 

Elvis only has eyes for you though, morbidly curious as to how you’re going to react, the same way your eyes are firmly fixed on him, no doubt fearing that you’re right. He almost calls it off at that point, but call it what you want he believes that once this secret is over and done with, the two of you will be all the stronger for it and there will be absolutely nothing to hold you back.  

“Who am I talkin’ to?” Elvis asks Charlie all the while making full eye contact with you. Contrary to what you may believe he doesn’t in fact enjoy hurting you with these hard truths, he’s just not as skilled as you in breaking them to you in a more delicate manner.

Charlie lets out a deep, tired sigh before, without any more preamble, he says, “You’re talking to the man that gave the world Elvis Presley,” in his most perfect Parker impression. 

Your face fully falls. 

Once upon a time you had told him how sometimes people need to be guided by another to get what they wanted. And he knows for a fact that you wanted him, it was only your damn job and it’s rules that held you back. That’s where his head was at after that fucking anniversary party.

You are the only woman alive who can proudly say she’s broken his heart not once, not twice, but three times. The first time being when you threatened to switch him to another therapist, but luckily he saw right through that ploy. 

The next time when you had the gall to lie to his face about where you were going. When you started speaking about Saturday, he could feel his heart flutter a bit, truly believing you were gonna invite him to meet your folks. Even now he could imagine how it would have felt to be offered such a thing, to be brought home and be introduced as your boyfriend proper. Even after you brought up your friends he could have dealed with that if only it would bring him much more into your life. Only for you to bring him back down to Earth with your refusal to bring him.

The last time was when you couldn’t say you loved him back. God was that a kick to the chest because he may not be the smartest man, but even he knew that it meant one of two things. Either you wanted to say it and you couldn’t for whatever reason… or you didn’t love him and you were just feeling particularly guilty about it that day. ‘

He couldn’t accept that though. Something in your life was preventing you from saying it back and really he knew there could only be one thing. Was it really so monstrous to remove it if it left you feeling like this?

You love him, he knows that you do and you only need a push in the right direction in order to admit it.  

And if you didn’t… he couldn’t afford to think like that. 

So he had to push through. Had to do what was necessary. Had to believe you love him. 

Had to believe he was still worth loving.

He knew words meant nothing at the end of the day (you taught him as much) he had to find a way to prove you did love him and that you weren’t in it for yourself. 

The only question was how.

After he sees you leave that place, looking devastated, it takes everything within him to not take you in his arms. But he has a goal in mind and he has to figure out where exactly you're at mentally in order to push through. 

For all he knows you’re on your way to pack up your office right now, but he has to be sure. 

Red tries to stop him before he gets out of the car, but ends up backing off, with a single glare his way. He waits for a bit before approaching the modest looking house after you had left, and knocks on the door, and once it opens he has to remind himself who he’s doing this for, and knock that fucker’s lights out. 

Even when he has never met them before, people weirdly enough have a lot of trust in him. And Mark Whatever his last name is, proves to be no different. Elvis greets him with his first name and a quick hug as though they were old friends and lets himself into the house as Mark still gapes at the doorway. 

He finds a den with two identical mugs on a coffee table, and he finds a very familiar lipstick color on one of them (how could he not there’s still a ring of it around his cock). Mark shuffles his way into the sitting room, absolutely struck dumb by Elvis' presence, and Elvis finds it hard to believe that he ever saw him as a rival for your love. 

Mark notices the mugs still on the coffee table and makes a motion to grab them, stammering out an apology about the mess. Before he could do so, Elvis notices the light color from your mug and hides a self satisfied smirk at that. Where once you only took your coffee black, your tastes have now become closer aligned to his own. 

Elvis puts a hand down on the mug as he says, “Why dontcha take a seat right down there Mark?” It’s kind of pathetic really seeing a man take orders from a stranger in his own house, but it serves Elvis’ purposes all the better. And with the way Mark awkwardly takes a seat it’s apparent that he is still flustered at Elvis’ presence in his den. 

Good, he thinks. Should keep him honest.

“Wh-what’s this about?” Mark asks, uneasily.

“It’s about our good friend, Y/N of course,” he says as though it were so obvious.

“O-Oh, uh, she was over here not too long ago,” he stammered out, before his brows furrowed even more confused. “How do you know her?” 

“Through her daddy,” Elvis lies coolly. “I don’t know if you noticed but she’s been a bit outta sorts recently. And I’m hopin’ you could help me figure out what’s been botherin’ her.”

“I-I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mark sputters out.

“C’mon Matt,” he says, leaning forward just a little bit to really sell the concern. “You can talk to me ‘bout this,�� echoing your own words from way back when. 

If he noticed the wrong name he didn’t say anything as he nervously looks down at his own hands, before muttering out a soft “she’s been having some trouble with a patient of hers.”

“Huh…” he says, raising his brows a bit at this. “She tell you who?”

“She would never tell me anything like that,” he quickly defends and Elvis relaxes a bit. “But ummm… she-she just needed some advice as to how to handle this patient. And I-I let her know that whatever consequences she imagines would happen, are not as bad as the reality. So it would be better to act now as opposed to later.”

“Hmmm…” he hums, and just like that he can already feel you slipping through his fingers. But he holds on to that look you had leaving. How distressed you looked at the idea of having to drop him all together, but he also knows you’re a tough one that can make the right decisions, even when they’re hard, and that’s why he loves you so. “Tell me Max, what would you do if you were in her situation?” he asks even though he already figures the answer.

“Personally… I would’ve dropped the patient a long time ago,” he says without any remorse. He says this next part so coldly that he finds it hard to imagine that you have ever had anything in common with him save for your chosen field. “Not just because it is the right thing to do, but because, for as little information as I have about the situation, this patient is simply not worth all the grief they’re causing her.” 

But it’s not me, Elvis wanted to defend. It’s her work, if it weren’t for that gettin’ in the way she wouldn’t have to be so goddamn worried all the time. 

“And did you tell her that?” Elvis asks, worried as to what may be brewing in that little head of yours if this son of a bitch has been whispering in your ear.

“God no,” the professor says. “I told her to do what she can live with. But I know her,” he says leaning back, sure in his opinion, though unaware that these words perhaps just saved his life. “She’s gonna make the right choice on her own or it won’t mean much.”

For all his degrees, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, is all Elvis can really think in that moment. He can’t possibly even begin to understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and how in fact he is the right choice for you, as you’re his. 

If a baby was about to walk into a pool, would he just let it happen because it was it’s choice? That’s downright evil in his book. Sometimes you need to make the decision for others and step in when they’re about to make the wrong ones. And if that’s what he has to do to for you then goddamnit he will. 

“Well, I think I best get going,” Elvis would say after contemplating this man's words. He knew how impressionable you can be, so he needs to act fast to undo whatever poison this asshole put in your head.

“O-oh of course,” he stutters. “Umm.. thank you for stopping by today.” 

“Now Mark, that fancy title you got, tells me you’re a smart man, right?” Elvis says a hand on his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. 

“...yes?” he answers tentatively.

“Now this story, I think it best you keep it to yourself.” he says, and he watches the man's brow furrowed in confusion. “Afterall I don’t think you wanna be known in your field for blabbin’ anything to anyone who just walks in your door.” 

“Of course not,” he says uneasily. “Thank you for your concern for Y/N, Elvis. Hopefully she’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Course,” Elvis would reply, holding out his hand for the professor, which Mark takes. “And please, call me Mr. Presley,” and on that confusing note he turns around and heads back to the car. 

He stews on that asshole’s words the whole way home, no one daring to talk about it until he did. He wants to trust 

But he knows if he lets this stand and doesn’t interfere, you’re going to make the wrong choice. Ultimately he decides to make the choice for you for your own good. He’s let chance rule his life for far too long, so he’s gotta make his own luck.

He cycles through just about everything he knows about you and tries to figure out how it could possibly help him.

And then he remembers how you once told him how your worst fear is seeing your patients fall back to their old ways, especially with those who abused them. 

Just the thought of going back to Parker makes him sick to his stomach. For as much as he loves you, he’s not willing to do anything that will bring that bastard back into the fold, and he doubts you would want that either. But he almost resolves himself to do it until he’s pulling into the driveway and sees Charlie’s car. 

And then he’s reminded that Charlie always did do a pretty spot on Parker impression. Especially if you ain’t ever heard that old toad talk before. And finally an awful plan began to form in his head.

It’s sneaky and underhanded, and it literally leaves a bad taste in his mouth that could only be chased away by that Wine. That sweet taste on his tongue reminds him of that first night in your office. He remembers how you cried so sweetly for him. How you pushed him away so overwhelmed with what you felt for him. How excited you got when he called you by your name. How you called him daddy for the first time. 

What he remembers most of all is how he had to apply some pressure to you in order to break through that tough professional wall you’ve set between the two of you. But it was worth that sweet sweet outcome. 

And if he gets the answer he wants from you, it would be worth it yet again. 

You wanted him to take charge then, and you want him to take charge now. 

So this is something he has to do and this is his cross to bear.

Ideally you never had to know. 

Once the call was over Charlie could hardly look him in the eye, and practically scrambles to get the hell out of there once given the signal. He feels a twinge of guilt and hopes that this be the last morally bad thing he asks of the man. But with the way you’ve been able to keep him on the straight and narrow since you’ve met him, he thinks it will be. 

Still he welcomes the solitude, knowing that this is undoubtedly going to be the worst minutes of his life, and the only one he could even fathom spending them with is the one he’s currently waiting on. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t be one to sit on this for too long, so tonight he’s going to learn one of two things about you: either you tell him about “Parker” and try to help save him from the rat bastard… or you say yes to “Parker” and you prove yourself to be like the rest.  

He tries to chase that nasty feeling out of his head with the wine, and the sweet taste of it reminds him of that first night with you. How for all of your fighting and protesting you still gave in, how you kept coming back even as he knowingly put you through the wringer. How you would settle just as easily in his arms as he did in yours. 

If that ain't love, then I guess I don’t know what the hell is, he remembers thinking. You’re the last hope he has to believe that he can be loved for him, not for Elvis Presley. To love him through his fears, his hopes, his anxiousness, his temper, his jealousy, his dreams, all of it. 

And his faith in you is rewarded as you as his phone rings within minutes.

Where most people would blow up in a rage and scream and curse till their hoarse about something like this, you’re not like most people. No you’re far too composed to ever do that. Growing up in a house where your wants and feelings were second to everything will do that to you he guesses. 

You’re like that with everyone… except for him. You freely express all your thoughts and opinions with him, never afraid to give him the business when necessary but always honest in a way few people in his life are these days. 

You’re at your most vulnerable with him. You’re so used to hiding how you feel for others' benefits, and he’s glad you don’t have to do that with him. It was a long hard road to get to this point but goddamn if it wasn't worth every moment.  

He’s almost… giddy knowing that you’re going to be mad and he’s gonna be the only witness to it.

But for all your anger and fury, righteous or not. Ain’t none of it will change the fact that at the end of the day you still chose him. 

And even as you wordlessly turn and walk almost robotically up the stairs he’s confident that you’re going to choose him again. 

He barely has time to get the words out before the rest of them are in a frenzy to get out of the house, apparently unwilling to stick around for the fireworks. He doesn’t know what they're so squeamish about, he knows for a fact that they would’ve done worse if he asked them to. 

He trots up the stairs, maybe going a little slower, wanting to really rile you up. When he gets to your shared bedroom, you’re packing up a storm. 

It’s honestly cute that you think you’re going anywhere. 

A part of him knows he should feel more guilty about it. He does feel some guilt of course he’s not a monster, but it does feel roughly the same amount of guilt if he had broken a vase or something. It felt bad in the moment, and he tried his damndest to hide it, but ultimately it didn’t mean much. 

Sure you had been upset those first few weeks after the story dropped but eventually you did get over it and finally learned to enjoy your newfound life as his girl. Yes it cost you your job, but in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter much. 

And if he’s being honest it only really mattered in getting you to meet him.

Most people would be either on their knees begging for forgiveness from you or continuing to feign ignorance to all of it.

But he’s not most people. He knows what he did and he knows he ain’t got nothing to be sorry over. 

“Can you believe them Hollywood producers ain’t never wanted me in no serious movies?” he says casually, now that there are no more secrets between either of you. 

You throw a bottle of wine at him. 

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

Ending Note: As Battie as my witness I’ve had this twist planned since the beginning. It’s up to you if I did enough to justify this choice but I am happy with the results. 

Taglist

@venus-haze​ @djsjs13949​ @ilovehobi101​ @butlerslut​ @richardslady121​ @giabelia​ @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051​ @myradiaz​  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale​ @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis​ @dkayfixates​  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen​   @marriedtoeddie​ @cuteejeno​ @itlover8000​  @isthlsfate​  @mgparker​  @thatbanditqueen​   @softsatnin  @literally-just-elvis-fics​ @adaydreamaway08​ @airyx0x0 @domoron​​ @angelborn-1998

[theawkwardsiren]

Toxic - Veneer x F!Reader (angst/fluff) part 3

summary - things just kind of snowballed. part three of this series i ended up writing. part one, part two. part three. part four. part five.

warnings - angst (little bit), more insane, toxic behaviour from your ex

a/n - guys please don't think Veneer is a cheater 😭 i don't think he'd ever be. also i think i'll finish this at 5 parts...hopefully...

"Don't kill me! I can explain!"

As the green-haired boy stuttered and stammered out panicked nonsense, your eyes drifted back to the pictures. The message was definitely connected to them, and you were pretty sure you knew who sent it.

"THEN EXPLAIN!" Velvet was strangling her brother, obviously pissed off. "We can't have any of this drama! It will ruin us!"

You didn't know how to feel. On one hand, doubt and fear started to creep in, like it was a repeat of what happened with (Random Name). But on the other, this just didn't strike you as a flirtatious encounter, and it didn't feel like a Veneer thing to do. Boy is so clingy, he would never risk losing what he already has.

"She just dropped her new bag! I was picking it up and giving it back!" He was protesting, trying to get his sister to loosen her grip. "And then she asked for an autograph so I signed her arm!"

"And WINKED?!" Velvet didn't let up. "Why would you wink?!"

"I wink at all my fans!"

"I believe him," you finally looked up from both phones.

Veneer exhaled in relief as Velvet lets go of him to turn to you. The look of disbelief is evident on her face, so you explain yourself.

"Veneer can't keep secrets. And he has no game. Also he's super clingy so it's hard to believe he would seek someone else's attention. Once he's attached to something or someone, he doesn't let go."

"Hey! Why did this turn into a Veneer-bashing session?" He pouted, crossing his arms like the cute big baby he was.

Velvet rolled her eyes and snatched her phone back, "I guess you're right. But we need to deal with this rumour and fast, before we lose all of our fans!"

Before you could respond she was gone, which obviously meant you and Veneer needed to sort this out. The moment she was out the room, Veneer's arms and legs were wrapped around you and he was clinging to you like a koala.

"(Name) I'm so so sorry, you know I would never!"

He was clearly panicking, so you had to calm him down before you could think about how to get your maniac ex to stop ruining yours and the twins' lives.

"I know, I just said I believe you," you rubbed his back soothingly.

"Oh, I thought you were saying that just because of Velvet." You raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled nervously, "Sorry."

You sighed, "He's never going to leave us alone."

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a message from (Friend's Name), who was no longer gushing about Veneer, but rather her new boyfriend - the interviewer Kid Ritz.

my platonic love <3

remind me what you ever saw in (random name)?

he is screaming psycho rn

call the police

or better yet, i'll get the shovel

You couldn't help but laugh at her last text, shaking your head at her words. She was crazy, that's for sure, and that's why she was your best friend.

"She sounds like Vel," Veneer observed over your shoulder, "It's scary."

You laughed at that, "She does. Never thought of that before."

You messaged her back, not sure what to say for the first message. Clearly what you had seen when you were with him had just been a facade, a mask he wore to hide who he really was. Thinking back on it, a lot of his behaviour had seemed crazy and irrational, but you were too infatuated to care. Now that you had moved on, it was easy to see his faults and pick up on what he had done wrong. (Friend's Name) was right, he was screaming 'psychotic'.

Something ticklish danced across your shoulder, and as you giggled you realised it was your lovestruck boyfriend giving you soft kisses.

"That tickles!"

He laughed with you, before becoming serious, "But you know I'm really serious when I say I would never do that right? I'm not like him."

"And never will be," you smiled, nodding. "You are the furthest thing from him, the complete opposite. Being with you has opened my eyes up to what love and joy really look like."

"Good," he pecked your lips.

-

That cheating rumour was shut down so quickly by Velvet and Veneer that a few days later, no one even remembered that article. Even the girl involved debunked the rumour, clearing Veneer's name. By their next performance, his fans were screaming for him and going crazy like nothing had happened.

For once, (Friend's Name) was at the performance arena with you, because she had been invited as Kid Ritz's plus one. You were so happy for her, and even happier that this meant you had someone to share all the chaotic parts of being the girlfriend of someone famous with.

"That girl's looking a bit too long, don't you think?" She asked you as you stood aside, watching Kid Ritz have a brief interview with the twins about the performance they were about to give.

"Hmm?" You hummed, not really paying attention. Your eyes were drifting around, sieving through the crowd. You weren't sure why you were so paranoid, but you had a bad feeling about today.

"(Name)!" (Friend's Name) waved a hand in front of your face. "Earth to (Name)!"

You snapped out of it and turned to look at her, "What happened?"

She sighed, "You don't have to worry, okay? he won't try anything with Veneer here, and those massive bodyguards, but if he does I'm right here to defend you. So relax, and enjoy your boyfriend's show!"

You took a deep breath and smiled, "You're right, I shouldn't be worrying. Let's go find our seats."

The two of you entered the building, completely missing the mop of dark hair that appeared at the back of the raging crowd.

-

"He's so hot!"

"VENEER MARRY ME!"

"Girl, how do you stand this?" (Friend's Name) laughed as you both listened to his crazy fangirls.

"End of the day, he goes home with me," you replied, laughing as well. "Why? How do you handle girls raving about your famous lover?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"With a knife," she answered, then laughed harder, "Kidding! I ignore."

"Right..." You teased. "Cause you're so good at that."

"Do I detect sarcasm? Is Velvet rubbing off on you??"

"Surprisingly, Veneer is more sarcastic than her."

Enjoying the show was easy. Your boyfriend was an amazing singer, and his voice never failed to leave you in awe. Your eyes remained on him the entire show, and he seemed to notice because his cheeks were slightly pink. He took his revenge, pointing at you in the crowd and blowing you a kiss. Your cheeks burned as you smiled shyly, and he chuckled.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Too engrossed in the music and your boyfriend's enchanting gaze, you didn't realise that there was someone slipping closer to you and (Friend's Name) behind you. You didn't notice that the crowd was making it easier for them until you realised you were further from the stage than you originally thought, but by then it was too late.

A hand touched your arm, and you whirled around to hit whoever it was but stopped dead when you saw the girl (Random Name) cheated on you with.

"Hey, (Name) right?" She bit her lip. "Can we talk?"

You frowned, "I have nothing to say to you."

"I know, I know," she sighed, "I can't tell you how sorry I am. He didn't even tell me that he had a girlfriend. But I'm here because I need to talk to you, it's urgent."

"Well I'm kind of busy, my boyfriend is performing," you tried to excuse yourself, but she gripped your arm tighter.

"Please," she insisted. "He did the same thing to me."

This made you hesitate, and you eased through the crowd with her to get outside. You had no idea why you did, and no idea why you hadn't told (Friend's Name), but you did.

Silly mistake.

"For a second I thought that wouldn't actually work."

Your blood turned to ice at the sound of that voice, body stiffening in fear and shock. You didn't need to turn to look, the panic told you enough. You looked at his affair partner, but she just shrugged and had the nerve to look apologetic.

"He's hot," she tried justifying it, "I'd do anything to keep him."

"You do realise that he's obsessed with me in all the creepiest ways, right?" You tried to keep your voice from shaking.

"He'll get over it eventually," she replied, "Once he gets tired of you again."

Again.

That word echoed in your mind, bringing back the traumatic image of him and her making out on his bed. So that's why he'd done it? He'd gotten tired of you? Bored?

"He'll notice I'm missing," you warned them, "He'll come looking for me." Your voice was starting to shake, giving away your fear.

"Let him," (Random Name) smirked smugly, moving closer. "He may not be easy to frame for cheating, but you are. By the time he finds you, the whole world will know you cheated on him, and no one will be there to vouch for you." His hand came up to caress your cheek, and you had to try to hardest to keep your nausea at bay.

"He won't believe you."

"Really? Not even if I have proof?" He held up a camera.

Your face paled, "Get away from me."

"Hmm, let me think...no."

You tried backing away, but he grabbed your arm roughly and shoved you into his car, getting in the driver's seat with what's-her-name in the passenger's. Before you could complain, or call out for help, your phone was tossed out the car and it took off.

You could only watch in despair as the building faded into the distance.

-

"(Friend's Name), where's (Name)?"

Veneer and (Friend's Name) looked around the emptying room, but found no sign of you.

"Maybe she went to get some air," she suggested, "She was looking a bit worried before the show."

Veneer's worry only grew, anxiety gnawing at his heart. It worsened when they went outside and found noting but your phone laying on the ground, and Veneer felt faint.

"Looks like she had every reason to be worried."

a/n - please don't kill me, i don't even know what's going on 😭

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Tuesday evening lovely fandom :) The work flirts continue on and in front of EVERYONE at the station might I add in this one. Like they’re not even trying to hide it at this stage in their relationship. God I love s4. Lets get this started eh?

4x03 In the Line Of Fire

We first catch Tim talking to Grey in the locker room. (Lucy did appear earlier but was for SL don't care about with Nolan ha) Wade suggests a Sergeants aide to him. Tim being Tim sees it as a sign of weakness. Like he can’t handle his workload. He is defensive and says he doesn’t need one. Grey knows where his head is and says it’s not weak to need one. They're short staffed it makes sense to. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Wade suggesting Lucy to him.

He’s not wrong they’re seamless together. They miss riding together (not that either will admit this) It makes perfect sense on paper. You can see the wheels turning in Tim’s head above as he considers this. Now I think his immediate gut reaction is Lucy. Not a doubt in my damn mind. But as he continues to mull it over he sees the cons of it. If you’re not in tune with Tim you might not get his motives for not choosing her right away.

We will delve into that later in the episode. But I know when he thinks on it more it’s because he wants to protect her. On multiple levels by not choosing her. I love this about him. His first instinct is to protect Lucy above all else. Emotionally, her career, you name it he’s protecting it. Love this man.

Friggin Nolan overhears this and jumps the gun. What else is new? Foot in mouth disease is his go to. He is causing unecessary friction because he can’t keep his mouth shut. (I mean it leads to a delightful episode for them but I have to give him shit.) It's setting both Tim and Lucy up for failure with the aide news. Nolan telling Lucy that Tim is going to pick her to be his go-fer with such certainty does just that. Saying he heard Grey tell Tim to do so. Getting her all excited he’s going to choose her.

When Tim picks Webb instead Lucy is CRUSHED. Tim is looking in her general direction too which is even more misleading. Her actions above are screaming very loudly how upset she is. I love how much Lucy uses her hands when she is upset. She fidgets and doesn’t know what to do with herself at all. I’m Italian so I can relate haha I feel like she is going through so many emotions in this moment. Hurt he didn’t choose her, agitated that he chose Webb, confused why he would choose anyone but her and lastly pouting because he didn’t choose her.

Petty Lucy is born in this moment and I love it. It's like being told your crush is gonna ask you out and then doesn’t…. You also know she’s going to be jealous and try and lure it out of Tim why he didn't. Because well Lucy LOL She’s doing all these things while Nolan is catching Grey up about his case. Having a loud pout session front and center for Tim and all to see haha Makes me laugh so much. She is deeply upset and everyone will know about it haha

Lucy gives Nolan more grief (as she should) about misreading the Sergeant-Aide situation. Now she’s in analysis mode. Trying to break down why he did what he did. Nolan stating the obvious that it's bothering her Tim didn't pick her. (Duh. You should be a detective. Oh wait....) Lucy explains why this opportunity would be beneficial to her above. She’s not wrong but she is also refusing to beg. Wants him to come crawling to her. Admit he wants her there not the other way around. Oh petty Lucy you are hilarious to watch.

Doesn’t want to give Tim the satisfaction of having her ask. Or having her fate in his hands again. Wants him to be the one to give in and want her around. To Lucy she’s earned that spot with him. Wants Tim to recognize she should be his aide. Nolan should be smart enough to stay clear of this couples spat. But it is Nolan so…he is dealing with her going off haha Lucy finishes off her rant telling John if there is one thing she knows its Tim is definitely missing her right now.

We cut to Tim having a blast with Webb LMFAO They're talking about the game last night. How Webb has season tickets to both the Dodgers and Angels. That he can hit him up anytime for some. You can tell Tim is having a good time with Webb. If Lucy could see this interaction right now it would break her heart. Not really missing her at the moment haha He’s in sports heaven right now.

The way Lucy is reacting to Webb being Tim’s aide is so funny. She literally stomping her foot like but that’s my Tim and my position. Minute she sees Webb at the food trucks she’s on him. Lucy is so jealous they’re having a good time. The way she says 'Really? that's....awesome' (Sure it is..) Sabotage becomes her next play.

Asking Webb if he’d like to know how to stay on Tim's good side. She checks behind her to make sure Tim isn't catching her trickery ahaha She knows he wouldn't like these 'tips'. Smh. Lucy Chen you are playing dirty…. Transparent as a glass house my dear. They get interrupted by a sniper shooting a car that crashes into their lunch spot. So we don’t get to hear these ‘tips’ of hers. All we know is it won't end well for Webb.

We cut back to Webb and Tim in their shop. Talking about the weird case they have right now. He starts going on about his cat personality. Tim’s face. I’m dying. Eric is the king of expressions and I'm laughing so hard. He is so uncomfortable. When Webb asks Tim what his is? It's then Tim knows where this is stemming from. He immediately asks if Lucy put him up to this? Knows his wife too damn well. Like he wasn’t going to figure that out ASAP. Or maybe that was part of her plan. To torture him and have him know she was the reason behind it. These two are ridiculous and I love it.

So begins the ridiculous childishness that is these two in this episode. (I'm loving this BTW) Well Lucy was already there. Been living there for a hot minute heh. Now that Tim knows she wants the job it’s game on. Because why talk about this like adults? When they can work flirt this to death. LMAO Not only that but torture each other along the way. Be more married you two my god. They clearly miss riding with one another but won't be the first to blink. Their competitive nature not letting them yield any control.

The amount of flirting going on in this scene. My god. And it's happening in roll call of all places. Shamelessly flirting in front of the entire station. Tim calling Lucy out for wanting the job. Her innocently saying 'What?' Like she didn’t just sabotage that man out of insane jealously and pettiness LOL

Tim straight up calls her out on it. Saying the cat personality was ALL her. Lucy continues her clueless act with the hint of a cocky smirk. She’s trying so hard not to break this battle of wills they have going on. Her body language betraying her so badly. Tim is onto her and it’s so damn funny. Tim thinks he has the upper hand in this conversation. Knowing she wants the job and is very aware of her sabotage. Thinks the scales are tipping his way right now.

That is until Lucy crushes him with her words and flirting. He’s stunned into silence. You know this man loves it when she does this stuff. He’s mad he likes it. Lucy drives him insane and he goes back for seconds every time. I love how Tim is so caught up in this flirt he forgets where he is. The way he double checks behind him is hilarious. Like she said something dirty to him in public and he’s red baha Also making sure no one else is hearing this convo of theirs. How she just owned his ass during it. Can you spot the married couple?

To continue the petty childish run they're currently on Tim gets back at Lucy quickly. Saying he wants to spread the love. Give someone else a shot at being his go-fer. Her face in that second gif LMFAO. Lucy could not be more smug if she tried. The way she pumps her eyebrows at him. Thinking she has won this battle of theirs. He’s going to pick her. Game over. She's wondering what to him so long. Then he picks someone sure to get under her skin. Smitty…

He makes sure to look her in the damn eye as he says it. The audacity of this man. He knows EXACTLY how to get under her skin. Looks her in the eye, smiles that devious smile, and says Smitty. Such an ass lmao but he’s her ass. Drives her just as insane as she drives him. I’m sure the room is thinking. ‘God just make out already’ LOL Damnit love them so much.

Lucy notes her frustration very loudly. Grey may not totally understand what’s going on but knows it’s something. Calls Lucy out on it. Asking if she has a problem? She is immediately defeated with a ‘No….’and ends with a even sadder ‘sir….’ Tim has won this round and she can’t do a damn thing about it. These two are so ridiculous and I love them for it. It’s like she forgot their little feud was in front of Roll Call and Grey had to bring her back to reality poor girl. lol

Lucy gets her's in the end though. Smitty being Smitty. Tim is regretting his decision so much already. He's telling Tim all the things he can't do. Lucy hangs back and is enjoying the show. Her smugness returns quickly as Tim has to load the war bags cause of Smitty's 'bad back' LMAO

I love how the scene starts with her eyeing him across the bullpen. She come over and asks why Smitty isn’t doing the paperwork? Tim says he claims to be allergic to paper LMFAO. Lucy's smugness continues. Tim tells her it’s not funny.... Leads her right into her convo with him. Saying he should’ve just asked her instead. Tim replying he was trying to do her a favor. That people might view her riding with him again as a step back. Now we can loop back to why he hesitated in the first place in detail.

You can hear the hurt in her voice. The way she feels offended that he would prefer the station to know he’d rather ride with Smitty than her. When its anything but that. I talk about Tim always wanting to protect Lucy. Whether that is physically or emotionally. His first gut reaction is to shield her. That’s what he was doing in this moment. He respects her so much and thinks so highly of her as an officer.

The last thing he would want ANYONE in the station to think was she didn’t earn it. He definitely didn’t want to be a proponent of that either. Tim has seen how hard she's had to work to get to a good place in her career. Last thing he would want to do is jeopardize that with people thinking otherwise. Just because he wants her back as his partner. I love that so much. He’s guarding her career in this moment. Doesn’t want her to endure any unnecessary BS for being his aide. Refuses to be selfish and puts her first.

Also I think he is aware people know of their dynamic. That people will think she got it for unsavory reasons. Reasons he would never allow but people will think it anyways. His intentions are so very Tim Bradford in how crazy honorable they are. Lucy is listening intently and understands why he’s doing it. But she can’t help but fight against it. Saying screw what others think. Voicing how archaic it is for people to just assume it's something untoward cause she's a girl and he's a boy.

Tim saying he’s very handsome boy to her LMAO It’s ok babe she knows you are. Painfully aware of it really. He needs that validation from her and it cracks me up. Not the first or the last time he does this either. Lucy’s ‘oh gag’ Oh please woman. You’d jump his bones in a heartbeat if you could. That look in 5x12 alone when she is checking him out once his shirt is off contradicts this moment so much. Showing what a lying liar she was. But sure let’s pretend you think he is ‘Oh gag’ biggest lie yet my friend haha

This next section is my favorite part. Their battle of wills continues down to the friggin wire. From Lucy calling it aide and Tim saying go-fer. HA Then her battling back with why she wants to be his aide (not go-fer) I LOVE the way he is looking at her while she passionately defends why she wants this. Careful Timothy your feelings of admiration/love are showing. Lucy wants this so badly. People and their thoughts be damned.

She’s impressing him once again and it’s written all over that devilishly handsome face of his. Lucy saying what she could get out of it alone is worth putting up with him and his ways. (Like you don't want to be doing this anyways) D and I talked about how this before. How part of her wanting to be his aide is more than just a promotion. Do I think that is truly part of it? Yes. I have no doubt about that. I also think part of it is the safety and familiarity of Tim.

He supports her in a way she will never get with Nolan. Jackson is gone and all she has left emotionally is her person. Her safe space. So her ‘putting up’ with him again is her really just missing him. Craving that familiarity. They both miss each other and this is a way of getting that back. I think Tim’s initial instinct when Grey brought her up was an immediate yes. Then he got his in his head and wanted to protect her instead of what he wanted. Which was to ride with her again.

Before we continue let’s first note how sexy his biceps and forearms are in this part. The way he crosses his arms in a way that just does things to me. Sex on a stick. Just his arms. Also the forearm porn is fantastic. I’m in a river of drool at this point LMAO Man is so fine it’s unfair really. No one should be this handsome and sexy doing something so simple .*ahem* Anyways I do adore Lucy mirroring his body language. Crossing her arms as well. Still not willing to give into him. Look at the stare down in the third gif.

She is smirking because she's on the verge of victory and knows it. Making Tim be the one to break and go for it with her. It’s funny to think about with S5. Because he HAD to be the one to go for it. They were gonna stay in a holding pattern unless he did. Took the leap and the risk. Just like he does here. He’s contemplating holding out longer. The way he taps his fingers on that delicious bicep deciding. He cracks and says ‘What the hell. Let’s do it.’

Lucy lights up like a Christmas tree. Heart eyes galore for him. Tim tells her to show up to roll call an hour early. That way he can go over new procedures and such with her. Lucy thanks him all smiles and so grateful. She throws down one last work flirt as she is leaving about paperwork. He is just as flirty back with his signal for her to go haha Gah I love these two so much hurts my soul lmao. So much chemistry it blows my damn mind. They’re so into each other and don’t have a damn clue. Ah idiots in love. Truly.

Last bit I adore her shirt ‘Tell your dog I said hi' I would so wear this shirt. Very fitting for Melissa. Love Lucy wearing it. Damn I love that episode one giant flirty moment . S4 truly is a gem. All this suppressed UST/love streaming through 22 episodes.

Side notes-non chenford

I love Aaron and Nyla bonding in this one. I’m so glad she chose James. He was the obvious winner between the two. I love watching them develop they so cute. Aaron fixing things at the end was very lovely.

Thank you as always to those who like, comment (oh how I love the comments) , reblog and such. You are the real MVPs. Shall see you all in 4x04 :)

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Let's keep twlkimg aboit the House of Black cause I'm obsessed with them too! Mgl it makes me kinda sad that there are almost mone left after the 2nd war, I think born Black there's only Narcissa and Andromeda left, and because they're women they don't get to keep the name. Idr now if this is canon or Ive reas too many fics, is Harry the new owner of Grimmauld Place now? I think Sirius left it to him am I right? Does that mean he's also the head od the house now? Is he head of both the Blacks and the Potters now?

Have a nice day!

Anonymous asked: About the post on Black family (which I truly loved😍) I've few questions: 1. when Sirius died did Harry inherit every penny that was in the black vault and every manor they had? Or just what Sirius' uncle has left to him? 2. Do you think Harry when he gets older sits in the wizengamot and has a title?

Hi, thank you both so much! 💓

I'm answering the asks together as they're kinda similar.

So, I mentioned in the Wizengamot post that I think the Potters also have a Wizengamot position since at least two Potters have been mentioned to sit on the council. So, Harry should have that position from the Potters anyway. Well, he gets the seat, he doesn't have to use it as it seems you can opt-out from what little is written about the Potter family on Pottermore:

Occasionally, a Potter made it all the way to London, and a member of the family has twice sat on the Wizengamot...

(From Pottermore)

It seems the Potters opted out more often than not. I guess the Blacks, who had a house in London for the parliament season (the social season for the aristocrats in London in the past was for the season the Parliament — in our case, the Wizengamot — was in session) probably involved themselves in the Wizengamot more.

As for what Sirius inherited from his family, well, I'll say all of it. He wasn't officially disowned, it seems, since after he dies, Harry gets Grimmauld Place and Kreature, both not left to Sirius by his uncle:

“Yes,” said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. “Our problem,” he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, “is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

(HBP, 49)

The house and Kreature weren't Alphard's to give, therefore Sirius was likely never disowned and as the last remaining Black by name (very sad), received all of it. I always headcanoned it as his mother burning him off the family tapestry as she did Alphard without officially disowning him since she didn't have the authority to do so. Also, I think Walburga never really stopped loving Sirius in her own way, even after he ran away. Like, I think she burned him and Alphard off the tapestry in a moment of anger and made it permanent magically, but she tried to return Sirius a few times. Like, I truly think she didn't really mean to disown him when she did that. I think Walburga's and Sirius' relationship was a very complicated one and as much as they both claim to hate each other, they don't.

As for whether Harry is the head of both Potters and Blacks and gets two Wizengamot seats... I'll guess no. Like, he got all the money and houses and while we don't know much about Wizengamot law if it indeed has seats for certain families, I think there would be some rule in place that won't allow a single member more than one seat. There isn't really evidence for it, just my personal headcanon. So, in my head, Harry gets the Potter seat and the Black family gets replaced with a new family, which probably happened to other families in the past. I mean, if Hufflepuff had a seat, I assume in the books the Smith family got that seat through marriage at some point in the past. Same with Slytherin and the Gaunts, where the seat passed through the female line. Then when the Gaunts fell from grace they were voted out and replaced by another family (at least in my headcanon). So, in the case of the Black family seat, the Malfoys (the books mention Lucius isn't on the Wizengamot) might get it through Narcissa or a completely new family would get voted in (like what I headcanon happened with the Gaunts). Like, I have a lot of headcanons about how the Wizengamot works, but not much evidence, unfortunately.

[zeestarfishalien]

Part 12: Share with Silence of the Trees

Master post

Jason has found a way to cross their language barrier! Danny still remembers how to spell things…he thinks he does at least. He knows letters and that’s important. There’s so much paper taped to the floor just so Danny can get across some sort of message.

He’d make an ouija board joke, but he’s more worried about Jazz right now, her blurry face and cries of pain are all he can think about. The sounds of his memory-nightmare repeat over and over in his mind.

Consequently, ‘Jazz’ is the first word he spells.

And of course Jason doesn’t know what he’s trying to tell him.

‘Help’ is the second word but that just makes Jason more confused. After some questions he narrows it down to a person named Jazz, but he’s not quite getting the picture. Jason thinks that Jazz is someone who can help Danny.

“N-O”

“U H-E-L-P J-A-Z-Z”

After a second, he tacks on, “P-L-Z”

There’s more questions and Danny doesn’t know the answers, he just keeps hearing her cries of pain in his mind and they need to make sure she’s okay.

Something in his eyes must spur Jason on, because he decides to tackle the questioning a different way. He has Danny describe Jazz.

“R-E-D H-A-I-R G-E-N-T-L-E H-A-N-D-S F-A-M-I-L-Y”

“What about a last name? Do you know their last name?”

And Danny tries. Oh does he try but his mind won’t give him that.

“D-O-N-T R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R”

“Okay,” Jason let’s out a reassuring hum. “That’s alright let’s see if we can’t figure out any details that might help me find her.”

“B-I-G-G-E-R T-H-A-N M-E” Danny roots his nose in the direction of his real body.

“Do you remember who you are?”

“S-O-M-E” Danny only hesitates a moment before adding “I A-M D-A-N-N-Y B-U-T A-L-S-O P-H-A-N-T-O-M.”

“Do you know where you came from? Gotham?”

He shakes his head. “N-O-T G-O-T-H-A-M I D-O-N-T K-N-O-W”

They go through a few more questions, most of which Danny doesn’t know the answer or has only a vague niggling memory he can’t access. It’s frustrating for both him and Jason. That Jason is so patient with Danny’s non-answers has him feeling grateful. He knows his faulty mind is not helping. He has memories but no context, no names and blurry faces and gaps where he has no clue what happened.

Their charades/ouija board session is interrupted by one of Jason’s phones going off.

“Ugh, Christ on a cracker…Firefly broke out of Arkham,” he says, looking up from the phone with a sigh. “I better make sure they get him roped in before he burns down half the alley.”

Danny nods. He hates that Jason goes into such danger, but he understands that he would be just as bad if their situations were reversed.

As such, when Jason leaves, he settles into his routine of pacing the border closest to where he can feel Jason. He flows down the side of the building and into the alley, then back up again. Crossing gaps that mortal creatures would never dream of leaping. He’s dead though and the dead don’t heed the laws of gravity or pesky things like physics. He’s dead…

…and why does that sit wrong in his mouth, on his brain?

Because he’s not.

His hackles flare as rage and panic flare from Jason. That he can sense it so strongly from this far away speaks volumes to how strong Jason’s emotions are raging right now. They hit him again, stronger.

Protect.

Failed once. Never again.

Protect.

PROTECT

Danny bolts towards Jason only to dissipate at the edge of how far he can be from his body. He growls at the invisible edge of the barrier as he reforms but it trails off into a whine as Jason’s panic escalates. There’s only one way to reach Jason.

To protect…

He doesn’t hesitate this time, when he dives into his body with the intention of coming back up with bipedal limbs and a mouth that can use words. He doesn’t get lost in the melded and warped memories that bombard him. He fights through emotions both new and old, fighting through his old self and swimming ever deeper into his body and mind.

He gasps awake with a sound like a drowning man coming up for air or the dead rising to life. It’s a breath that rattles his ribs and aches across those muscles between each one. His eyes flash open and his body feels wrong wrong Wrong but Jason’s call to protect is louder and more important than this minor inconvenience.

He can sense it better now, the details of Jason’s angry war cry. His brother, his kin is in danger.

He flexes fingers just to feel them working and he bolts. He doesn’t bother to go around anything, not when he’s used to being mostly incorporeal. The scenery blurs by as he races on and on, hoping beyond all hope that he can make it in time.

The smoke lingering in the air is the first sign of trouble. The second being Jason trying to throw himself into the burning building. The building his kin is most likely in.

Danny doesn’t hesitate, he takes barely even a second to get a sense of the most likely locations to search based on the flames and to decide the best way to sweep the warehouse fully before diving into the smoke.

He can’t miss. He can’t fail.

Not again.

Intangibility keeps the flames from burning him but the heat of the air is still stifling and the smoke tickling at his nose, daring him to breathe it in. He’s lucky he doesn’t need to breathe like this. It still burns his eyes but that’s fine because crying from smoke will hide the tears of fear. Fear that he won’t find Jason’s sibling in time.

The fear only grows the longer he searches without result. The creeping dread of what he will or won’t find crawls up his spine, and he has a spine it can crawl up now. He would almost rather go back to his spectral form, save for the fact that he would be unable to touch Jason’s brother.

On another pass, he spots Jason struggling through the smoke and flames. He shoves him back out of the building with stinging eyes and tear stained cheeks. He cannot fail but he also cannot lose Jason so he returns to his search with a dogged determination.

He’s nearly keening aloud by the time he finally stumbles across Red Robin crumpled in a storage closet. He can hear his heart beating and it looks like he’s breathing. Danny doesn’t have a good way to cover Red Robin’s nose and mouth. Neither of the fabrics they’re wearing are conducive to breathing through and it will take too much time to rifle through all of the pouches on the bird’s belts intangibly. He finally decides on covering the little exposed skin with his cloak and rushing out, hopefully fast enough to avoid damage.

Humans can’t take heat like he can. How hot does the air have to be before it burns the lungs inhaling it?

He flies straight up and through the ceiling. There’s more smoke but it’s safer in Danny’s eyes. Once they’re clear of the building and the reaching flames, Danny darts towards Jason. He can sense him trying to climb back in and then he can see it.

His feet make no sound as he lands on the street behind Jason, so he lets out a crooning sort of croak.

~•~

Jason spins, eyes wide and searching, landing on the glowing white haired teen and his unconscious brother draped across their arms. Even with the cape still covering Tim’s face, he knows it’s Tim.

And the teen…

oh…

The teen is Spooky, Danny. He’d recognize that funky jumpsuit anywhere and those eyes are the same Lazarus green eyes he sees on a canid face every damn day.

He’s frozen mentally. Physically he’s moving forward to check Tim’s vitals and look for any obvious signs of injury but it’s all autopilot, all things that were drilled into him so that it became second nature, so that he could function even when his emotions are running wild like they are right now. He’s furious and relieved and anxious and surprised and ecstatic and so much more nuances of the same. It’s a cyclone of vicious emotions attempting to claw their way to the surface, fighting each other for the top spot.

His instincts purr, they’re safe they’re safe family is safe, while he gets on coms with Oracle to make sure she knows they’ve got Tim and that he’s alive.

He gently takes Tim off of Spooky’s hands and hoists him onto his hip like he’s a sleeping toddler so he can free one of his hands.

He gently reaches out to ruffle hair that has the same wispy feeling as before.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. Family, his instincts say. I love you, says the odd rumbling tone that ripples out from somewhere in his chest.

Danny clicks and a similar rumble in higher pitch comes from him and somehow Jason knows that it means, I love you too. Family.

Sooo… hey…

Life has been crazy for me this past month and a half and I’ve barely had any time off between taking care of my mom who’s been injured (broke her back), working a lot more hours bc my mom can’t, and then just a whole slew of family events, weddings, funerals, the whole shebang. I quite literally skipped a funeral this weekend so I could actually rest for a sec (to be fair it was set on a Sunday afternoon at a place thats like a 4-6 hour drive away and I can’t really afford to miss work since, well…my mom broke her back (she’s fine and recovering well so far we think). Gods I feel like one of those ao3 authors that shows up out of nowhere with some wild story but like this is my life rn.

But yeah, I’m still working on this and I have a plan for where I want this to go so it’s gonna keep going. I’ll either get way more productive in October/November or way less productive since I’m prepping for nanowrimo.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Mighty Nein Reunited, Part 2

Gather ye wizards while ye may, though with the return to Campaign 3, we are finally headed to Yios, where there are wizards, once we finish with the Gloomed Jungles, where there are were-creatures, which are also very cool. The hierarchy is, as always: paladins; wizards; were-creatures; literally everyone else; dhampyrs, kalashtar, changelings, and "hey DM, can I play a tiefling bard with intelligence 7". But I digress.

Ludinus Da'leth: So at this point (ie, shortly post-this episode), Caleb, known bridge between the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul, has taken a job at the Soltryce Academy, which means any efforts to make a new, slightly more palatable volstrucker program and quietly keep it from Archmage Becke are going to go straight out the window. The walls are closing in, and he doesn't even know that Jester can go to the Feywild. 7/10.

Astrid Becke: Caleb listened and took the job! That's one success in what's got to be a thankless new position in many ways. Also I still really want to know who the hell has become Archmage of Antiquity, or if the Assembly just writes that one off as "make a deal to bring back a powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood once, shame on you; make a deal to bring back an powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood twice, shame on us and also what the fuck are we going to do with two nickels in a society that uses gold, silver, and copper currency." 3/10; Astrid's doing better than she ever has in this tracker, and good for her.

Eadwulf Grieve: Caleb is still keeping him in mind, which is good, because he really is like...look, he's a wizard, so he's not dumb muscle, but compared to his two former lovers he's very clearly the 'And Peggy' of the bunch. On the other hand this means he's probably just organizing the Temple of the Raven Queen Yulisen Night Potlucks and inventing the Exandrian equivalent of Minnesota Hot Dish or something. 0/10.

Yussa Errenis: Is aware of the storm on the horizon. Is chilling in his tower. Is largely unbothered. Other people pointed out that while he has developed a reputation for fucking around and finding out, he has also technically never physically left his tower to do so, which is honestly impressive, but does explain why Beau did not have to bamf out a partially dissolved old wizard when she ended up in Uk'otoa's gullet. Anyway, glad he's keeping up with Caleb and making potions. 3/10, for being aware of the storm.

Allura Vysoren, whose name I keep misspelling: Yasha did give Kima back the sword, and Caleb doesn't seem to have her staff, and she helped make a new, cooler sword! 2/10 for League of Miracles reasons only.

Essek Thelyss: Still under a lot of political pressure, regardless of where he is...but he's also getting, as Figueroth Faeth would say, his kisses in, so better than I expected! 5/10.

Caleb Widogast: So here's the thing. It is, as the other post said, about the green beans. And it is, as my last iteration of this said, not time for deep Caleb meta in here. But I do have a lot of thoughts about the similarities between Caleb and Fjord, as I always do, and about how neither of them really had much of an understand of what happens in their life past That One Big Thing They Need To Do, having already woken up at some point and been like *Mitski voice* I used to think I'd be done by 20. I do feel that the Caleb Widogast of part 1 of this two-shot was truly a Caleb Widogast who could go either way re: the T-Dock usage, and the Caleb Widogast of part 2 of this two-shot is not; the event has not (in my understanding, at least) occurred but the decision has unconsciously been made. Also he's dating Essek and he gets to have Dragon Time, which sounds like Floor Time but better. He does get a 4/10 though, because he takes it upon himself to become the Mighty Nein's Social Event Coordinator. As someone who just had to cancel a carefully scheduled D&D session for tonight because I am sick but also the DM and if I have to talk for 2 hours while simultaneously using my brain I will cry, this is very stressful.

Veth Brenatto: Camp's going great! Only one kid died, and not permanently! 1/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Oh so the demigod leviathan CALAMITY SNAKE gets released from its prison beneath the sea, three seals in three temples broken in under 18 months, and yet, I, Halas Lutagran,

Bonus!

Warlock Breakdown Tracker

Fjord: For real? Who knows. I personally imagine that it does, as they say, briefly go to 11, because though Uk'otoa is dealt with and Zehir seems to have understandably gone "you are way too interested in love and the ocean for me to give a shit, I'm going back to bed", Fjord (not unlike Caleb) has to sit with the fact that he's done with that and he's happy OH GOD HE'S HAPPY WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE DO WITH THIS. Also he has to deal with the orphanage, which is going to be traumatic and unpleasant for sure, plus you know someone named "Grankton" is going to be holding a massive grudge against the world at large. But with time, it settles back down somewhere more reasonable, only to briefly spike and resolve again during Kingsley's little maneuver. So you know. Some numbers, probably.

[l-starlight-l]

The love of a Hero

Smoke Signals

A/N: listen listen I know it’s been a longggg time since I post but I’ve been busy man. This is the first story in my new mini series!! I’m so excited even tho I’m not so sure how good it’s going to be. I promise I’ll post more! Love ya<3

Description: You’re a new physiologist in the city and you share a smoke break with a mysterious masked man

Warning: smoking, cursing, mental hospital

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

——————————————————————————

:reference:

——————————————————————————

You are one of the most successful psychologists in the United States. You have helped heal people all over the world. You mainly focus on the people who are more disturbed in the mind. You have been itching to settle down so when you got an invite to work at the renounced Gotham asylum you were over joyed. It was quite obvious they needed more hands since they have been having issues keeping inmates actually in their cells. You knew that this might be a stressful job but you’ve been through worse. Plus you had friends in the city who you could rely on.

On your first day you were immediately thrown into action, seeing the very ill people that filled the hospital. You obviously were not gonna make it through all the new patients on your list but you tried your best. You made introductions with many well know names such as; Pamela Isley, Harvey Dent, Oswald cobble-pot and a few others. One name caught you by surprise, Harleen Quinzel, you had met of her before. You shadowed her when you first got into the business. She was kind to you when others weren’t and seeing her like this now was going to be hard. You put her visit to the end of the day to take some time to prepare.

You had just got out of a session with “the scarecrow” and it had shaken you up. You decide that it was time for a break and some fresh air. You made your way to find a quiet spot to rest. When you pushed open the doors to the back of the building there was no one to be seen. This made you feel alittle better. Smoking was a bad habit that you couldn’t shake but had cut down on. You only feel the urge when you get stress which seems to be happening more and more often. You pat your pockets but they’re empty. A soft panic set in, not that forgetting your pack is life or death but is still a disappointment.

“Are you fucking kidding me” you mutter under your breath. You lean against a wall and close your eyes trying to relax a little before getting back to work. You hear heavy footsteps land right infront of you. The suddenness of the sound surprises you and you jump. When you look up to see who had dropped down you see a very tall and big man. He has dark hair with an unusual white streak in the front and gray-blue eyes that are covered by a thin black mask. You just kinda look at him confused on why he’s there and he just looks at you as if you’re the one who came out of nowhere.

“Um hi, can I help you” you say with a confused attitude.

He looks a bit taken back but opens his mouth to reply “what are you doing here”

“I should be asking you the same question, you’re the big masked man who just came up out of no where” you say now annoyed

“Oh uh sorry, I guess. Usually there’s no one over here” he replies a little embarrassed scratching the back of his head.

“Well I wouldn’t know, it’s my first day” you feel weirdly okay with just giving this stranger unneeded information.

“Oh well, wanna smoke” he says offering me a cigarette, I happily take it. Which in reality is a dumb idea.

“Thank you” you mutter unsure of what to do.

“I haven’t got a light” he pats his pockets. You reach into your lab coat and pull out a lighter. You put your cigarette into your mouth and he does the same. You lean up on your toes to meet the tips together and light them. When you step away and look at the tall man he looks very flustered and you realize that may have been a weird thing to do, getting so close to him without even knowing his name. “So you’re a doctor here” he says breaking the awkwardness.

“Yeah I am, and you’re one of Batman’s boys?” you question unsure since you’re use to super hero’s with a bit more red and blue.

He looks a little surprised and you start to worry you said something wrong. “I guess you could call me that” he says with a kind laugh. You smile at his laugh it makes you feel warm. “You don’t seem like you’re from Gotham” he states like a question.

“Oh um no I’m not, I just moved here last week” you say not wanting to give your whole life story. His phone rings and he reluctantly steps away wanting to finish your conversation. He looks annoyed at whoever’s on the other end and rolls his eyes before hanging up. He puts out his smoke and looks at you.

“see you around, doc” he smiles and then disappears. His smile stays with you, it was warm and genuine. You had no idea who he is but you want to see him again, he made you feel so relaxed. You sigh and put out your cigarette. You have to go finish your shift, you emotionally prepare yourself for your next consult, which you’ve been dreading all day, and walk back into the building.

——————————————————————————

[roppongi-division]

ARB Birthday Special 2024: Mireya Quinlan

~~ July 31st ~~

"The question isn't who's going to let me, it's who's going to stop me."

Login Lines:

"Oh, you're here early! I was just wrapping up today's session at the center. These girls, they're picking up the dance so quickly! It's still not perfect, but they're steadily getting better."

"A gift? Now, why would… Oh! It's that time of the year again, isn't it? How could I forget my own birthday? And here I was giving Kai crap for forgetting his birthday a few months ago. Must be all the late nights at the club. ...But anyway, thank you, dear, you're a sweetheart."

Voice Lines:

" 35 years old. ...Well, I can't say I'm 'young' anymore. You know I almost let it slip by this year, the day I turn another page in my life's story. The girls at the rec center, they threw me this surprise party. They even put on a dance, just for me. It was their way of saying thanks, but really, it's me who should be thanking them. They've given me so much more than they realize: purpose, laughter, and a reminder of the power of second chances."

"My mother… not even a whisper from her today. But then again, what did I expect? We're two worlds apart now, and I prefer it that way. Sometimes, I catch myself wondering, 'What's she doing now? Does she ever think of me?' But those thoughts, they're like shadows: fleeting and better left behind. I've got my own life, a life filled with music, love, and the laughter of my son. That's all the family I need."

"My childhood wasn't the stuff of fairy tales, far from it. A controlling mother, an absent father, spending most of time being dressed up like some doll for people to gawk and stare at… But look where that road led me. To Kai, to Zakari, to a nightclub that's my realm. Every step, every misstep, it's all been part of this dance. And for that, for all of it, I'm thankful. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be."

"...You know, it's funny. Society has this way of labeling us, telling us what we can or cannot do at certain ages. But me? I've never been one to dance to anyone else's rhythm but my own. I'm not 'young' by the books, but I've got more fire in me than those half my age. Let them dare to call me 'old,' and they'll learn just how fierce this 'Gypsy Queen' can be. Age is just a number, and I refuse to be defined by it. I'll keep living, dancing, and loving with all the passion I've always had. That's a promise."

"Ah, mi amor. ...Thank you. I'm glad to see you took time out of your busy schedule of making music to wish me a 'happy birthday'. ...Oh, don't be silly, love. That was just a small threat. But I am glad that you remembered. ...Ha, yes it has been a long time since we've met and we are still here. I've said it before, but I am eternally thankful for you, my husband."

"Oh? And what's this now? You always find new ones to surprise me, love. Oh, a custom necklace with my name? 'My Gypsy Queen'. ...Oh. It's beautiful. Thank you. Thank you so much, Kai. You've made this day even more special. I love you, mi amor."

"Zakari, good to see you up and about today. Usually, you insist on sleeping past noon when you don't have classes. ...Oh, so my birthday is the reason you're up. Well, thank you. Anything to keep you from wasting the day away. ...Because you are my son and you don't know better, I'll let that one slide. But for your sake, my son, do not refer to me by the 'three-letter word' again, okay dear? ...Good, glad you understand."

"So, I assume you're heading out now to freelance across the city again? ...Oh, and what are these now? …Belly dancing CDs? You chose these yourself? ...Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you. I can't wait to dance to these. Thank you, my dear son, you've made your mother very happy."

Kai Lines:

"Happy birthday, Mireya. ...Well, of course I remembered. I seem to remember a certain someone threatening me on my birthday that if I forgot theirs, I'd be confined to the living room sofa for the foreseeable future. ...Ha, if you say so, love. But, really and truly, I didn't need a reminder to help me remember one of the most important days of the year. It's the day you were born, so if I ever forget, then shame on me."

"And to show I haven't forgotten, I have this for you. It's a necklace. Read what's one the front. ...Thank you, I'm glad you like it. ...And I love you, my darling wife."

Zakari Lines:

"Hey mom! ...Hey, if I don't need a reason to get up early, why not sleep in? Besides, most of my classes are in the afternoon anyway. But truthfully, I woke up cause its your special day! Happy birthday, by the way! How does it feel to be '35'? Your so old now! ...Haha. Come on, mom, it was just a joke. You still look beautiful, really! I'm sorry! ...Sheesh, remind me never to mention anything about numbers around you..."

"Yeah, I'm about to head out. But first... happy birthday! Yup, they're belly-dancing CDs! I saw them while browsing the store one day and thought you'd like them. ...Glad you like them, mom! Enjoy them! I'm about to head out! Happy birthday again!"