#just so he can do another tv show w this woman

[femsolid]

“We’re in 2019. Female hair is CENSORED everywhere. You don’t see it on TV. You don’t see it in magazines or adverts. There is an injunction of society for women to remain 'soft' and completely hairless. Just like a little girl. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. Young, skinny, hairless girls have been very popular in the media for years and it makes me wonder. Who's behind it all? Who's perpetuating this message about women looking like adolescent girls? It sometimes feels rather paedophilic. It worries me.” – Camille Alexander. Musician (2019)

“Years ago I did think about getting laser hair removal for my navel hair, but then I realised I'd be paying a couple of hundred pounds just to conform to expectations that I don't even care about– I'd much rather use the money for a holiday or circus lessons! I think that's one of the things which annoys me so much about society and the media's expectation for women to be basically hairless– they're pressuring us to invest serious time and money and endure pain. It's a double standard and it's unfair. Being able to accept your body– hair, scars and all– is freeing. I remember seeing my Aunt Glynis dancing to reggae in the 90s with her armpit hair showing– she looked so confident, happy and free. As a child, I couldn't put my finger on 'why', but I can now. On a practical level, it feels pretty darn good when I consider how much time, money and pain I've saved by accepting my body as it is. I like to think that that memory of my aunt being free and totally comfortable in her own skin is one that I can emulate and pass onto other girls and women. It hasn't always been received well though. At Lambeth County Fair one year, a friend of a friend was seriously freaked out when he saw my armpits. He asked me "what's wrong with you? Why would you do that?!", which was pretty amusing but bewildering. It reminded me there will always be people out there who may react and judge me like that. Thankfully, the opinion of people who think like that means very little to me! For me having hair and not caring is a bit like being part of a secret club. When you notice someone else who is resisting society's expectations and staying hairy you feel solidarity and respect. It's nice to be part of that.” – Isabel (2019)

“As a teenager, I remember trying to stuff myself into a box of what a girl should be like. It always felt uncomfortable; padded bras, shoes that hurt and shaving rash. Running, swimming and climbing have helped me to see the strength and resilience in my body and to love it for what it is. Growing my armpit hair has been a recent experiment and the longer it gets, the more I like it! I like the way it looks & feels. It has given me a new respect for myself. So I say, embrace growth & if it pleases you, let it all grow!” – Jess (2018)

“Shaving, epilating or waxing hurts. I was tired of suffering, trying to adapt to the image of a ‘beautiful young woman’ society is selling us. Everybody told me to shave. As a teenager, it’s a huge subject among girls; where do you shave? What method are you using? It takes so much time and costs so much money (the majority of hair removal products are also not recyclable). All of these reasons coming one after another motivated me to stop shaving. I would often have irritated skin after shaving and being a very sporty person, the sweat and the friction of my clothes would cause pain.The worst thing was having sex on the second day after shaving my vulva. I didn't understand why women would suffer and waste so much time on hiding who they really are. By showing my body hair on stage, I would like to stimulate and change people’s point of view. I’d like to motivate women to make their own choices.”

– Darian Koszinski. Circus artist (2018)

“I stopped shaving completely when I was a teenager because of two instances. The first? I got tired of all the time wasted on maintenance and the discomfort that came with it. The second was when I went on a few multiple week-long backpacking trips; it would have been extremely inconvenient to spend hours ripping my hair out, so I let things grow. Being so close to nature let me dive deeper into and re-examine the relationship with myself and the world, acting as a mirror. In nature, there is wild; it is as beautiful as it is untamed. How could it be anything other than that? I felt so relieved and free when I let it grow out. It felt like being able to breathe. It was incredibly comfortable too. I felt a confidence and boldness returning, like I was replenishing some kind of primal power. I will say that a very pleasant side effect of having armpit hair is its ability to ward off rude people whom I wouldn’t care to interact or associate with anyway. Because the people that care about that sort of thing and make it a point to say how disgusted they are, are precisely the kind of people that I don’t want in my life.”

– Kyotocat (2017)

“At this point in life, I feel that the real question shouldn't be 'why did you let your armpit hair grow?' But actually, 'why did you shave in the first place?' Please celebrate your body! Own who you are and be that! Those who celebrate who and what they are, are creating a much open and safer space for those who are struggling to understand who and what they want to be in life. It might be easier said than done but give it a try. We'll then help create a healthier and understanding society with less bullshit than there already is...”

– Alex Wellburn (2017)

“I never stopped shaving because I never started. I do remember my mother shaving when I was younger and I thought that was pretty unnecessary since she was a strict muslim. I later realised it's a thing women do to look more desirable to men. It really irritated me that the people who reacted negatively to my natural armpit hair were men. Like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. It really gets on my tits. This is just one more reason that I don't shave it off. It belongs to me and I don't make noise about the "ugly"; hair on men which are sometimes pretty painful in the eye... But you've got to get over it and don't let these idiots get under it. I would recommend growing it to any women.”

– Ayan Mohamed. Graduate architecture student (2014)

Natural Beauty Photoshoot

#gnc

[its-vannah]

Rojas | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: This is TV storyline, not book storyline.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and alcohol

Eddie: As much as we'd all like to think that Warren was this laid-back, freespirit, there's a part of him that had been broken and taped back together so many times that he never really showed anybody. He just hid it with drugs.

Graham: It really hurt him when Y/N stayed back.

Warren: God, I haven't heard that name in years. Y/N? Y/N L/N? 28 Birchwood avenue, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania? Yeah, I remember her.

Graham: He was infatuated with her.

Eddie: He meant everything to her.

Warren: She meant a lot to me. I mean, of course she did, I almost married her.

Camila: Warren made me stand in the bushes by his house with a camcorder in my hand so I could get the proposal on tape. It turned out good, except for the part when he forgot I was there and started making out with her.

Warren: I picked out a ring and everything. The band didn't know this, but I worked odd jobs on the side. One week I was cleaning someone's gutters and the next I was mowing a lawn, another I was dog sitting. It took me months to save up for a decent ring.

Y/N L/N: Of course I remember Warren. He was the first man I ever loved. I still love him.

Warren: She came to every gig we ever played. Every single one. That is, until we left for LA. I asked her to come with me, but she was still in school.

Graham: We were so proud of her for getting into college. We still are, honestly. Look, I'm happy that I pursued music. Nothing will ever change that. But there's something about going to college that just... I don't know, it sounds right.

Warren: She said she'd meet up with me after she graduated. That was another three years away. But I was willing to wait, and so was she. I promised to call every day and visit when I could.

Y/N: Warren knew how to say all of the right things. And it's not like he was lying, he believed what he was saying. He just didn't always follow through, even if he intended to.

Warren: I called her at the same time every day. Four o'clock. Before we had a gig and after she had school.

Y/N: Everything was fine at first. Then he started going a day or two without calling. That was okay, I knew he was busy. But those days turned into four, then six, then a week. The longest it went was two, three weeks without a single call.

Eddie: I answered the phone one time. She called at the same time every day, so I knew who it was. Warren was on his ass, high and drunk. He couldn't make it to the phone.

Y/N: I asked Eddie to tell Warren to call me when he got the chance. That I needed to talk to him.

Warren: I did call the next day, with a bad hangover. I had a lot of explaining to do.

Y/N: I was not happy when I found out how he had been spending his time.

Warren: She wasn't happy when she found out I was getting high and drinking myself to sleep every night.

Y/N: Drugs, alcohol, you name it, he probably did it or tried it. He knew better than to get into another woman's pants. I would've come up there myself.

Warren: Never cheated though. Point for Warren, I never stooped that low.

Y/N: I told him to get his shit together. Just because two people are apart doesn't mean they can make reckless decisions.

Warren: I thought she hated me. I felt like shit. She was the love of my life.

Y/N: I told him that if he didn't watch it, he'd lose himself, the band, and me.

Warren: I cut back on everything after that. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed weed. I just did it in moderation. Same with the beer.

Y/N: I was proud of him.

Warren: I finally got to see her again when we started going on tour.

Y/N: He got to see me and a positive pregnancy test.

Warren: Turns out, we weren't as careful as we thought.

Y/N: You would've thought he had won the lottery when I told him.

Warren: Warren Rojas Jr...

Y/N: I chose the name. And it was a girl.

Warren: Emilia Warren Rojas...

Y/N: Emilia Lynn Rojas. Everyone called her Em, except for Graham, Eddie, and Warren. Graham and Eddie called her Emi, and Warren called her Warren. My dumbass of a fiance.

Warren: We went everywhere together. The store, backstage, front row of concerts, up the stairs to Y/N's house. She was my little best friend.

Y/N: It was love at first sight. But by the time I moved to LA, the band had split up.

Warren: I missed the music, but I spent my time on boats. It's where I was happy. With my wife and my daughter.

Y/N: We did get married, eventually. I just kept my last name for business reasons, and for privacy. But I guess that's all out the window now. Marry a hall of Fame inductee and your privacy is a window. You have none.

Warren: Warren Jr loved being the center of attention.

Y/N: Em was her father's daughter, she still is. Took up the drums. Back in the day, it wasn't common to see a woman on the drums. They usually stuck to vocals or the keyboard, sometimes the guitar. But not our Em.

Warren: Our son was born a few years later.

Y/N: I was high on pain killers when Warren named our son Theodore Graham. I had agreed to the names separately, not together. Because I knew what was going to happen.

Warren: My little Teddy Graham. She liked the names, just hated the fact that everyone called him the nickname I picked out. Said it reminded her of the cracker. That was the point, though.

Y/N: "C'mon, hot stuff, I want to honor my friends legacies" my ass. It was for that damn nickname.

Warren: She loves it, she just doesn't admit it.

Y/N: Horrible taste in names, but he's all mine.

Warren: Teddy Graham wound up being just like his mama.

Y/N: He likes to try and make me feel better by saying that Teddy is just like me. But I'm an honest person. Both of them are their father made over. It made vacations fun.

Warren: I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Y/N: He's a good husband, always has been. He's an even better dad.

Theodore "Teddy Graham" Rojas, son of Warren and Y/N Rojas: My parents made me into who I am today. My mom definitely did the disciplining and made sure we stayed in school, while dad was letting us sneak into the kitchen at two in the morning to make cookies.

Y/N: I knew everything they did. Playing guitar at midnight when I was in bed on a school night, baking at two, eating junk while I was away on business trips. I just let it slide. They were kids, they deserved to have fun and let loose. It just blows my mind to think I have one out of the house and another a year away from graduating high school.

Emilia Rojas, daughter of Warren and Y/N Rojas and lead drummer of Shortcircut: I was a daddy's girl growing up, still am. But the older I get, the more I appreciate my mom. I've always loved her, but being in her shoes today, I'm unbelievably grateful for her. We talk almost every day now.

Y/N: I'm proud of Warren and the kids. They pushed the limits. I realize they that were privileged to have a father who was in the industry, but they really did this all on their own. We got them lessons, they put themselves out there. Em is touring right now, and Teddy is at home playing his heart out. I'm telling you, just like their father.

Warren: Em and Teddy both have that fire in them like their mother, something I don't think she realizes. They're a lot more like her than she knows.

Y/N: Oh, to be with a Rojas.

Warren: I'll be kissing the ground she walks on for as long as I live—I'm never letting that one go.

#fanfic #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones and the six fic #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #warren rhodes #warren rojas #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas x reader #warrenrhodes #warrenrojas #djats #dj&ts #the six #taylor jenkins reid

[hoonvrs]

HOLD ME TIGHT — S. JAEYUN

req for 1k event!

PROMPT [ one, 19 ] picking up your partner and spinning them around in a hug to show them how much you missed them [ one, 20 ] aggressively cuddling your partner so they can't get out of bed

PAIRING jake x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS swearing

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTE writing these aren’t helping my delusions

you hadn’t seen jake for almost two weeks now. your schedules just didn’t seem to make enough time for either of you recently, him with his idol duties and you with your university obligations.

its simple to say you both missed each other. a lot.

once the stars aligned perfectly, the second you both found a break in-between your hectic lives you both made plans.

what better is there to do with the man you love that you hadn’t seen for too long than a date at home where you can both be openly clingy, or more you. jake has never been shy to show affection towards you no matter where or who he is with. 

it was easy to decide to have the date at your apartment, you didn’t want to share your boyfriend with six other men for a single second, they’ve already seen him enough. 

when you heard the doorbell ring, you sped to the door opening to find the blonde puppy you’d been missing dearly. you ran into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck before feeling your feet lifted off the ground, “jake!”

the giggly boy continued to spin you both in circles, “i missed you so, so much baby!” 

“i missed you too!” you finally feel him put you back down, quickly pulling on his collar to give him a peck, quietly laughing as he tried to chase after your lips. “come in, we have the whole day.”

“if im being honest, i don’t want to do anything today except cuddle.” he smiled, grabbing your waist to sway you two together.

“you read my mind,” you grabbed his arm, pushing him onto the couch where you had already prepared snacks and blankets with a list of movies you were planning to ‘watch’ ( or where you and jake talk using the tv as background noise. )

being able to finally talk to each other face to face and be able to feel each other was different to the phone calls you squeezed in every now and then.

this felt better, closer. 

catching each other up on new things in your respective lives, telling him about the new gossip from your uni group even though jake has never met them a day in his life without caring for the time.

“oh shit, it's almost midnight.” he whispered under his breath, looking at the missed calls and messages on his phone, “i need to go, love.”

you tightened your hold around him rendering him unable to get up, “no, stay here with me,” you whined, you weren’t ready to be away from him again for a long time, “and you said you don’t have anything important tomorrow either.”

huffing, he still tried to pry your arms from around him, “babe come on, i promise i'll come see you when i have another free day.”

not feeling your hold loosen any time soon, jake slowly stopped trying to fight against it even though he was barely putting in any effort before. “if you really loved me you’d stay here.”

“you’re manipulating me!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger at your face whilst you tried to hide in the nook of his neck.

“be a man and make a decision!”

you could see him from the little slip past his collarbone opening his phone and sending a message to a contact that looked awfully a lot like a cat. “you’re a horrible woman.”

“and you’re a horrible man, that’s why were perfect for each other,” you laughed, pulling him in for a kiss knowing you won, “so what’s you’re decision?”

“don’t act like you don’t already know!” he grabbed you, surprisingly pulling you closer than you were before. “now get back to cuddling me or watch me leave right now.”

“okay, you big baby.”

perm taglist @mesopret @tnyhees ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @chiyuv @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre

#( tag. events! ) 1k #enhanet #saints works ( madewithlove. ) #( tag. reqs! ) #sim jake x reader #sim jake drabbles #sim jake fanfic #sim jake imagines #sim jake fic #sim jake fluff #sim jake scenarios #jake x reader #jake fic #jake ff #jake fluff #jake drabble #jake imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen ff #enhypen drabble #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen scenarios #enhypen recs #enhypen reactions

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Do Re Mi | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Spencer finds his neighbor distraught and in distress at the BAU Headquarters with the idea that her ex-boyfriend might have something to do with the recent string of murders in Quantico, Virginia, he can't but get the team involved.

Warnings: Your usual Criminal Minds murder,

Author's note: Sorry for any discrepencies in the workings of the FBI, I don't really know anything about it aside from what I see on tv.

And if your name actually is Layla, make it into something else for this one, yeah?

Words: 4,237 

Her heart was beating in her throat. Her hands were sweating. Her mind was going a thousand miles per hour with hurried thoughts of worry and fear. She needed to find him. She needed to tell him. 

“Oh, hey, honey, you look a little lost.” The sweet voice snapped her out of her thoughts immediately.

When y/n flinched, she looked right into the deep brown eyes of the colorful blonde woman that had walked up to her. “Uh, I-I,” she frantically started to search for her words. “Spence–Spencer…” 

“You’re looking for Spencer?” the woman asked, clearly familiar with the one she was looking for. “Okay. Okay, I can bring you to Spencer. Hey, honey, can you breathe in deep for me?” She placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she gave the sweet order. Y/N inhaled a deep breath, trying to still her fast-beating heart. “That’s better. Okay, let’s go find Boy Wonder.” As the colorful woman guided the now-less-distressed one into the bullpen, she asked, “What’s your name? I’m Penelope.” 

“Y/N,” she simply answered with a soft smile tugging at her lips. 

“Good morning, baby girl,” someone said as the two passed him. Y/N didn’t even register him at first until Penelope halted in her tracks. 

“Can I show you a good morning at another moment? Trying to find Boy Wonder.” 

The man’s eyes flicked down to the woman tucked beneath Penelope’s arm. “Who’s this gorgeous lady?” he asked, his tone flirtatious, but Y/N didn’t quite register it as her eyes were frantically scanning the place for the familiar face. 

“Y/N?” The voice she’d been aching to hear finally cut through her distressed trance. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped up towards the gorgeous, familiar honey colored eyes. Her shoulders slumped as she felt the weight roll right off, the tears coming down with it. Launching herself out of Penelope’s arms and into Spencer’s, the girl’s body was overtaken by loud sobs. 

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, wrapping his arms around the girl while his eyes shot questions at his co-workers. Both Penelope and Derek simply shrugged, neither of them knowing what was going on. 

“I found her like this in the hallway,” Penelope answered. 

Spencer looked down, worry written all over his face. “All right, let’s sit down, shall we?” he asked and started making his way to the briefing room with her. “Can one of you get her a glass of water?” he asked over his shoulder. 

Frantically trying to get a grip on themselves, Penelope and Derek scattered to do as told while Spencer walked into the briefing room with Y/N where he gently placed her onto a chair. 

“You okay?” he asked as he himself took a seat on the chair next to her, turning it so he was facing her. 

Slowly nodding her head, Y/N’s redshot eyes moved up to Spencer’s where she found a bit of solace, a bit of the safety she so desperately needed. The girl opened her mouth to say something just as Derek and Penelope entered the briefing room with a glass of water. 

“Here you go, Sugar,” Penelope said sweetly as she handed the unfamiliar girl the beverage. 

“What’s going on, Reid?” The guy next to Penelope asked, his voice stern yet laced with a little worry. 

Spencer turned to Y/N again, searching her eyes for an answer. After a couple of sips of water, Y/N heaved in a deep breath before moving her gaze to the board in the room where the agents had collected the evidence for the case they were working on. 

She was silent for a couple of seconds as she looked at all four victims. “I know who killed them,” she whispered before looking back at Spencer. “And I’m next.” 

Within a second, Spencer’s head snapped up towards his colleagues, all three of them equally confused. His brows knitted together when he turned back to Y/N, leaning closer towards her. “Y/N, wh-what are you talking about?” 

“You said I should come to you if something was wrong,” she whispered with fresh tears running down her cheeks. 

Spencer did remember him saying that to her one night when he walked up to his apartment, nearly bumping into someone on the stairs as someone else was screaming at the runner. When he reached the top of the stairs, he found his neighbor, Y/N, with tears streaming down her face. 

Reaching for her hands, Spencer squeezed ever so slightly to let her know he was there for her. “Did Tristan do something to you, Y/N?” 

Her lip quivered. Her eyes flitted back to the photos on the white board. “Not yet,” she whimpered. 

“Reid,” Derek caught his attention, wordlessly asking him for a word away from the girl. After squeezing her hands once more, Spencer got up and joined Penelope and Derek by the door. “What’s going on? Who is this?” 

“It’s y/n, my next-door neighbor,” he answered, looking back at the fragile girl in their midst. “She-” he sighed. “I came home one time when she was yelling at her boyfriend. They were fighting about something and she was upset. I-I told her that if something ever happened, if she ever needed anyone to talk to, she could come to me.” 

“You think her boyfriend could’ve done that?” Derek asked, pointing at the whiteboard behind Spencer. “Are you sure she’s not just upset because he broke her heart?” 

Letting out a deep sigh, Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know, man. But maybe we should hear her out? Get the rest of the team in on this?” 

A deep frown creased Derek’s forehead. “You’re seriously buying this?” he asked, pointing at the girl. 

“Morgan, look how upset she is!” Penelope exclaimed in a whisper. “She was completely distraught when I found her, this isn’t like some boy just breaking her heart. There’s more.” 

Spencer and Garcia both looked at Derek in anticipation, waiting for his reaction. “All right. Fine. Let’s get the team and hear her out on this one.” 

Nodding his head curtly in gratitude, Spencer turned on his heel to rejoin his neighbor while Derek and Penelope went to get the rest of the team. 

“What’s going on?” A tall man with dark hair and a forever-frown on his face, asked when he entered the room where the rest of his team had gathered. 

Spencer rose to his feet cautiously. “Hotch, this is my next-door neighbor, Y/N. She might know something about the case we’re working on.” 

Hotch’s eyes skidded towards the fragile girl in the briefing room. For a moment, the man just inspected her before taking a seat with the rest of his colleagues, ready to listen to whatever she had to say. 

“Y/N,” the woman that had been introduced to her as JJ, spoke up, capturing her attention. “Can you tell us why you think your boyfriend had anything to do with these murders?” she asked, pointing at the pictures. 

Glancing over at Spencer for a second, just to find her footing, Y/N nodded her head before taking a deep breath. “Those are his ex-girlfriends,” she started with a sniffle. “Tristan talked about them all the time, especially when he was mad at me. H-he’d tell me Doreen was so much smarter than me or Mia had gentler hands… I met Fabiola once, so when I saw it on the news that she’d wound up dead and that Solange had gone missing, I just knew…”

Spencer’s hand reached for hers and squeezed it, Emily, the woman sitting next to her, doing the same to her shoulder. “Y/N, can you tell us something about Tristan? How did you meet him?”

“Through a dating website – that’s lame, I know. I just, uh, figured I could try. He was really nice when we talked online at first. Told me he was a musician… I have a bit of a soft spot for musicians,” she explained, chuckling dryly at the last part. Spencer looked up at the whiteboard, getting the gears in his mind to work. 

“What’s he like, personality-wise?” Derek then wanted to know.  

“Uhm,” she sniffled. “He, uh, he was actually really nice at the beginning. He was charming, chivalrous, … I really thought I had hit the jackpot with this man. But then two or three weeks in, he’d be saying these things that, like, …” she wasn’t sure how to explain it so she stopped, gathering her thoughts. “He’d need constant reassurance and then all of a sudden, he’d turn back into this overly confident man, taking charge.” 

The agents all exchanged glances, thinking the exact same thing. For now, they kept Y/N in the dark. “When was the last time you saw him?” Rossi asked. 

“Uh, couple days ago… I uh, I was talking to Spencer in the hallway when he came home all mad and broody, you remember that?” she asked her neighbor, who simply nodded with his eyes trained on the whiteboard. “He didn’t say anything to either of us and just walked inside. We had a fight right after.” 

Spencer suddenly got up and moved over to the whiteboard. “You said he was a musician?” he asked y/n, to which she simply hummed. Everyone had their eyes on the youngest recruit of their team as he grabbed a marker and wrote the first two letters of each name underneath the corresponding picture. 

DO - RE - MI - FA - SO

With wide eyes, Spencer turned to his co-workers while Derek’s eyes were on Y/N. “How are you so certain you’re gonna be next? Your name doesn’t–”

“I told him my name was Layla. I-it’s my middle name, I figured it wouldn’t do any harm. I–” Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the evidence on the board. 

Hotch’s eyes landed on y/n. “Where does he live?” 

“Cherry Hill Road,” she whispered. 

The scraping of the chairs across the floor startled her ever so slightly as the agents got up from their chairs.  In a panic, y/n looked for Spencer, only calming down once he’s by her side again. “y/n, stay with Penelope, okay? I don’t want you to go anywhere until we catch this guy.” 

Y/N nodded her head before getting up and moving to follow the colorful blonde she had first encountered when she walked into the BAU headquarters. “Come on, Sugar,” Penelope said as she wrapped her arm around her once again to guide her to her office. “Make yourself right at home. You want some coffee? Tea?” 

Shaking her head, Y/N offered Penelope a quick smile before taking the chair that was furthest from the screens. For a while, y/n just watched as Penelope got to work. She researched everything she could find on Tristan Bell. Phone records, high school diplomas, … Anything that had left a paper trail, she would find. 

A good hour they waited until the team burst into the BAU again with somber expressions on their faces. “Briefing room, Garcia. Now,” Hotch ordered. The blonde beacon of color excused herself and told y/n to stay put before following her boss out like a lost puppy. 

The longer y/n stayed in Penelope’s office by herself, the more uncomfortable she felt. The woman had only left her alone for a mere two minutes, but to y/n, it felt like an eternity. The walls were starting to close in on her as she waited for Penelope’s return that didn’t seem to come. 

Agitated and scared out of her mind, y/n got up with a groan and made her way back to the briefing room. However, she halted in her tracks when she heard Spencer’s voice booming through the room. 

“We are not going to send her out like a piece of bait!” he concluded his speech, which, judging from his co-workers’ faces, had been going on for a while. “I don’t want her ending up in a body bag just like the others!” 

Inhaling deeply, y/n turned around the corner to show herself in the entrance of the open door. “I’ll do it,” she announced, capturing the agents’ attention. 

“Y/N–” Spencer tried, his eyes filling with worry. 

“Whatever it takes to catch this guy, Spence. We have to do it. So, use me.” 

Spencer exhaled in defeat before walking up to her. “You’re certain?” he asked, placing his hands on her cheeks, his fingers tangling up in her hair. Y/N nodded, the pads rubbing against her temples. “I promise you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, all right? I-I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re gonna be wired the entire time, so we can hear everything you’re saying,” Hotch continued to reassure her, causing her to turn towards him. Spencer dropped his hands as she did so. 

“We’ll put a tracker on you and we’re gonna be there, just a few feet away from you,” Rossi continued.

Nodding her head, y/n felt more and more confident about this whole idea. She looked back up at Spencer into those honey colored eyes she had become so infatuated with over the course of knowing him as her next-door-neighbor-turned friend. 

“Now, here’s the plan,” Hotch said and began explaining everything in detail before the entire team – including y/n – started gearing up for it. The agents all got into their bulletproof vests, made sure their guns were loaded while JJ and Penelope helped y/n wire up. 

As the agents moved to get to their vehicles, Spencer grabbed y/n’s wrist to pull her back for a moment. “You’re sure about this?” 

“Yes, Spencer, I am. We need to catch him before he gets to the rest of that musical scale.” The boy nodded before heaving in a deep breath. “Besides, I’ve got you to protect me, don’t I?” 

A wide smile befell Spencer’s lips. “Yeah, you do.” 

Once the both of them were convinced enough, Spencer joined the rest of his team in the SUV, while y/n got into her own car. She reached for her phone and dialed the number she hadn’t call in a couple of days. Nerves rushed through her veins in time with the dial tone that beeped in her ears. 

“What do you want?” he snapped immediately. 

Pushing back all the anger and nerves, y/n forced herself to let out a sob. “I’m sorry, Tristan. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said that night. You were right, I was being a bitch and I’ve been stupid but I’ve come to my senses now and I-I want you back, Tris. Can you-Can you meet me at our special spot?” Her voice sounded tearful and innocent enough for him to cave straight away. 

She heard the man sigh on the other side of the line. The sound of it alone sent shivers down her spine. “Sure, baby. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” 

“Okay,” y/n sniffled. “Thank you, baby. See you there.” 

Tristan hung up the phone before y/n slammed her flip phone shut with a sigh. “Did that sound convincing enough?” she asked, knowing the agents had been listening. 

“You’re a natural actress, mama,” said Derek, his smile audible in his tone. 

Smiling too, y/n started her car and drove off with the SUV just a few feet behind her. Now, the anxiety was really kicking in. So much could be going wrong. Spencer and his co-workers could be too late, leaving Tristan an open window for him to kill her the way he’d done his ex-girlfriends. She could just be the next victim. 

As if he could read her mind, Spencer’s voice came through her earpiece. “Hey, you’re gonna do great. You got this, okay? And we’ve got you…” he paused for a second as if debating his next words. “I’ve got you.” Something must’ve distracted him as a silence presided over a soft “What?” 

“Man, you’re so in love with her,” that was Derek’s voice, y/n was sure. 

“What? No I’m not.” 

“Yeah, you are,” Emily chuckled. 

Spencer scoffed when Derek spoke up again next. “When are you asking her out?” 

Grinning, and completely ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks. “Yeah, Spence, when are you gonna ask me out?” The agents fell completely silent. Spencer probably hadn’t even realized he was still holding the button of the walkie-talkie. “Honey, when I can’t hear something on your end, you should probably release the button. I could literally hear everything.” 

“I–uh…” Spencer muttered, clearly embarrassed by what had just happened. 

“Tell you what, if I get out of this alive, we’re getting coffee together. How’s that sound?” 

“When,” he quickly corrected me. “When you get out of this.” 

A smile tugged carefully at y/n’s lips. “Yeah. When.” 

Y/N pulled over in the park’s lot and before she could get out, she had to heave in a deep breath. Coming here brought way too many memories of them going on dates together, eating ice cream. The happy memories that all just felt like one big lie now that she knew who he really was. 

“All right, y/n,” Hotch’s voice sounded through her earpiece. “You remember what we agreed. Get him riled up enough that he confesses.” 

Y/N sniffed. “What if I get him so riled up he attacks?” she muttered, looking around to make sure no one could witness her talking to herself. 

“That won’t happen. And if it does, we’ve got him surrounded,” Hotch reassured her. 

Those words were enough for her to get into her position. On that very bench near the lake was where they’d ended their very first date. It was their special spot. Tristan had even carved their initials into the wood of the backrest. Y/N’s eyes found the carving quickly when she noticed the other initials too. 

D+T R+T M+T F+T S+T

“Seems this bench isn’t just our special spot,” she grumbled, scoffing at herself that he had made her believe she was special. She was just one of the many. The next girlfriend. The next victim. 

“Layla? Baby?” His voice alone sent shivers down her spine. She quickly shook the feeling off and turned around to look at him. Those dark blonde curls, the piercing blue eyes. While she had loved all of that at one point, she felt nothing but resentment and hatred towards every aspect of him. 

Y/N got up from the bench and made her way towards him. “I’m so glad you wanted to see me,” she said, trying to keep that hatred out of her voice. “I-I’ve made a big mistake, Tristan. I am so sorry.”

A chuckle rolled off his lips. “What are you even talking about, Lay?” 

“I–” She had to come up with something. Something that would rile him up. “I slept with him,” she blurted out, cursing at herself for doing so, but then she decided to roll with it. “Yeah, I slept with him behind your back, Tristan.” 

His jaw clenched visibly. “It’s that good-for-nothing Spencer, isn’t it?” His words were dripping with venom, sounding like he either wanted to kill her or Spencer. 

Y/N coughed, slightly embarrassed that the man himself could hear everything she was espousing. Even worse was that his friends could hear it, too. “Y-yeah… I’m so, so sorry, Tris. It was dumb and I just–” 

Scoffing, Tristan shook his head. “You’re the exact same as those bitches!” he yelled. “Whores, the lot of you! WHORES!” Y/N’s eyes darted around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity to hear his breakdown. 

“What are you talking about, Tristan?” she asked innocently, hoping it would evoke the right answer. 

“You and Solange, and Mia, … Y’all are one and the same, making me feel… incompetent…” 

Y/N’s head tilted slightly. “Ever think it might just be that?” she asked, eyes filled with fire. “Don’t you think that’s the reason why I ran to Spencer the first opportunity I had? You’re incompetent, you always value yourself above everyone else and you’re just fucking weak.” Between every single one of those last words, y/n took a step closer towards the boy she once fell for. He was towering over her, but it didn’t intimidate y/n in the slightest. She was on fire. She would get that confession out of him. “And Spencer?” she asked. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be.” 

Though she was just saying those words to evoke a reaction from Tristan, they did hold some truth. Over the course of a couple weeks, Spencer and y/n had grown closer and closer. At first, it was just chats in the hallway, but it quickly evolved into spending nights together for dinner, watching movies. Spencer was someone she could talk to about everything and he’d listen, offer her the statistics and calm her down whenever she needed it. Up until now, she had just thought of them as good friends, but now that she was thinking about it, what she felt when she was with him was little more than that. 

“At least Spencer knows how to treat a woman,” she spat, immediately regretting her words when she felt the cold tip of the barrel against her forehead. No matter how scared she felt, she tried her hardest not to show it. “Do it then. Shoot. Kill me like you killed all your other exes,” she whispered, hoping the reverse psychology would work on him, hoping the words would have the agents spring into action. 

“FBI! Drop your weapon!” Hotch’s voice bellowed through the nightair. “Tristan Bell, drop your weapon and step away from the girl.” 

Sending one last glare at his ex-girlfriend, Tristan raised his hands in surrender before placing his gun on the grass. Y/N let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding before allowing herself to fall into JJ’s arms, who was approaching her to get her out of there anyway. 

“You did so great,” JJ whispered as she held the woman in her arms, guiding her towards a picnic bench a little further down, away from Tristan. Y/N cried in JJ’s arms, her body shaking with sobs while the blonde liaison soothed her. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

“Y/N? You okay?” Spencer’s familiar voice captured her attention. 

With bloodshot eyes and thick tears running down her cheeks, y/n looked up to find his beautiful honey eyes looking down at her, laced with worry. Letting out another cry, she launched herself into his arms, grateful to find her usual solace against his chest. 

“It’s over,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to tangle into her hair to scratch her scalp ever so softly. “You’re okay.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “How about you and I go for that coffee, huh?” 

Sniffling, y/n pushed herself off him to look at him. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. 

Y/N simply nodded and allowed him to guide her back to her car where he asked for her keys. He had left his bulletproof vest and gun with JJ, knowing y/n needed him more than the team did at this moment. 

The rest of the night, y/n and Spencer spent together in Spencer’s apartment with the coffee they’d grabbed from the nearest diner. Neither of them really wanted to be out at that moment. They just wanted to spend it together, in the confines of either one of their apartments. Though y/n did prefer his over her own. 

“Do you think I can only attract bad men?” she asked, not moving away from her very safe spot on his chest. 

“Mmh, no,” he replied, not really having to think about it. “I think you just had a bit of bad luck with this one. It honestly can happen to so many people. We’re unconsciously searching for somebody who has a conglomeration of negative and positive traits of the caretakers from our childhood.” 

“You’re saying I chose to be with Tristan because he reminded me of my parents?” y/n asked, looking up at him without taking her head off his chest. 

Spencer shrugged. “I mean, we all do that, we just don’t realize that we do.” 

“How do I find the right guy?” she then asked in a mumble, her eyes fixated on her fingers that were playing around with Spencer’s. 

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “You open your eyes.” 

At that, y/n looked up to find him looking down at her. The sparkle in his honey eyes and the soft smile that played on his lips got her stomach doing flips. In the time span she had known Spencer, she had never felt her stomach do these things. But she liked it. A lot. 

Y/N lifted her head and very cautiously leaned in closer until her lips brushed his. The kiss was hesitant at first, as if both of them were just trying to scout the area they were threading. But then Spencer’s free hand cupped her jaw and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. 

Pulling back, y/n couldn’t help the smile that etched its way to her lips. 

“Consider them opened.” 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict@n0wornever@wanniiieeee@unnowhatthisistbh @Jassy122

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic

[bro-atz]

Hi, its my first time to request. Since its halloween can you write an incubus Yunho one shot fanfiction? I just want the fanfic has a plot before the smut scenes and its up to you what would that be. Thanks 😊

dream in a dream

in which: yunho needs to fuck in order to stay alive, but he fell in love with you in the process.

pair: incubus!yunho/afab!reader

word count: 8k

content: smut, angst... a lot of sex... like a lot a lot, death, raw sex (remember to wrap up irl!), consensual...? definitely not non-con, but... mostly consensual idk sexsomnia/somnophilia are hard to categorize

author's note: friend... my brain literally exploded HAHA i never thought the day would come when i would be requested to write an incubus ff... anyway i really ran with the idea apparently so i hope you like this ridiculously long incubus!yunho also i am so sorry for how it ends... seriously i'm truly sorry idk what i did happy halloween ig?

tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here!

The thing with immortal beings that a lot of people don’t know is that they’re not actually immortal. They have to do certain things to stay alive. Humans have to eat food and drink water to stay alive, but not immortal beings. Each one is different. Vampires feed on blood (duh), banshees feed on revenge, wendigos need to consume human flesh, and an incubus needs to have sex. Vulgar? Yes, but it’s the truth.

It’s not just about sex for an incubus, though. They need the health, the energy, the life force from a human, and they have sex in order to obtain that.

Yunho was an incubus. He was kind of a lousy one at that. No, he was good at obtaining the energy he needed to keep going, but the problem for him was that he was picky. Some vampires only like a certain blood group, and Yunho only had an affinity for certain people. It was hard for Yunho to find someone he didn’t immediately despise. Think about it— he can’t have sex if he can’t get it up, and there were a select amount of people on the planet who could get him to that point.

That was when he met you.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life (and he had lived such a long life). There was just something about the way you would laugh and smile that made his heart flutter, and just watching you walking away from him made his body burn with lust. You were the one. He just knew that you were the one from the beginning, before he even slept with you.

You sighed deeply as you flopped onto your bed. You had a horrible day at work, and you wanted to relieve your stress one way or another, but you just couldn’t figure out what to do in order to relax. You dragged yourself into your bathroom and forced yourself to get ready to go to bed.

As you sat on your bed under the duvet in your tank top and shorts silk pajama set and watched TV, you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. You couldn’t tell what it was, but after getting sucked into the drama in your show, that feeling vanished. Sleepily, you turned your TV off and slept.

Then, your eyes fluttered open. Something got onto your bed, and you knew because you felt the bed dip. You blinked a couple of times and saw a shadowy figure next to you. You wanted to scream, and you opened your mouth to do so, but the figure covered your mouth.

“Shh, baby,” the figure whispered in the most reassuring, low, manly voice. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“W-who are you? What’re you doing here? How did you get in here?” you rambled off all of the questions in your head.

“None of those things matter,” he responded with the same, low register. “What matters is this. Us.”

The figure brushed your hair out of your face lightly, and you found yourself comforted by his touch. There was something about the warmth in his hands that reassured you. His fingers ran down the side of your face, down your neck, and over your shoulder, slipping your tank top strap off the side. You trembled when you felt his lips press lightly against your shoulder and let out a tiny moan as their kisses trailed along the part of your chest that was exposed.

“Why…?” you breathed out.

He responded, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing to your ears when you felt his body weight press further into you. You lost yourself even more when he brushed hair away from your neck and left sweet kisses.

“Just enjoy it, Y/N,” he whispered.

“You know my name…?”

He nodded against your neck, continuing to kiss you. You gasped when you felt his hand go under your top and squeeze your breast tightly. You squirmed below him as you felt yourself get more and more turned on— you needed him to do something about it. Whimpers and moans left your lips the more he felt your body up, and those whimpers and moans stopped when his lips met yours. He kissed you sweetly. He originally kissed you only once, but you needed more. You reached for his face and brought him back, kissing him over and over again.

“God, you’re so perfect, Y/N,” he breathed out in between kisses.

When he moved away from you, you wanted to complain, but he didn’t give you the chance. He tugged your shorts down all the way and licked your cunt from bottom to top. You inhaled sharply as his tongue continued to violate you. His firm hands went under your knees and pushed upwards, allowing him to pleasure you even more.

“Oh God,” you hissed when he sucked on your clit.

You felt yourself nearing your climax. You brought your hands to the back of his head and ran your fingers through his hair before holding on tightly to his roots. The closer you got, the firmer your grasp became, and right before you came, you pushed his head closer to you.

“Fuck!” you cried.

Your pussy convulsed, and stars filled your vision as you reached ecstasy. You were breathing rashly when he sat up and wiped his lips with his thumb.

You could barely make out his features now that you got a better view of him, but you knew that the man was fine. His jawline was sharp, and his nose was long and slender. His hair shielded his eyes, but his lips were beautiful and plump. As much as you liked staring at his lips, you wanted them connected to yours again.

Before removing his own clothes, he helped you out of yours. You laid in bed and watched his muscles ripple as he moved, his slender frame swelling up as he inhaled and looked at you. You watched him palm himself, your heart racing as you saw exactly how well hung we was. Slowly, he pinned you down and positioned himself carefully.

You felt like he was going to split you wide open when he entered you. He was long and girthy, and you really weren’t ready for it. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you suppressed your cries. Yet, despite the pain, you didn’t want him to stop, so when he was fully inside you and didn’t move, you whimpered and whined.

“Good job, baby,” he whispered as he pet your hair. “I’m going to start moving now, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, making him have to choke back a laugh. You reached for the back of his neck and brought his face down to yours as he pulled out slowly. You kissed him hungrily while he started to actually fuck you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and your tongue met his over and over again with every kiss.

At first, he was moving slowly at a steady pace, but suddenly, he thrust sharply into you, making you moan into his mouth. You continued to moan in between the kisses as he fucked you hard, his waist hitting yours with so much force that your entire body shifted forward. Worried that your head would hit the headboard, he put his hand on the top of your head, only to move his hand to the back of your head as he pulled you to sit upright.

His lips were still pressed against yours as he knelt on the bed, his cock still deep inside you. You sat on his lap and held onto him tightly as he raised and lowered you repeatedly. You let out little yelps every time he sat you down on his lap fully, his dick hitting places deep within you with such force.

“So good!” you moaned loudly as you flung your head back. “I’m gonna cum again!”

Without any sort of reaction, he lowered you down again and fucked you senseless, his hips making your ass cheeks sting. You kept crying out with every thrust, and when he slammed into you and stayed inside, filling you with his seed, you came as well. It was only when he pulled out that you squirted onto the bed, his cum leaking out of you.

You remained lying on the bed in a puddle of pleasure as he laid down gently beside you. His fingers tucked your splayed out hair behind your ear and caressed your face as your eyelids suddenly became heavy with sleep. 

Drifting back to sleep, you were barely conscious to hear his response when you asked, “What’s your name?”

“Yunho.”

When you woke up the next morning, you looked up and around wildly, remembering the incredible night you had— also fearing that a stranger really was in your home— but there was no one to be found. You were wearing your pajamas, which confused you because you definitely fell asleep after… That… Naked. Also, your hair and bedsheets were still neat and orderly, which definitely should not have been the case if you had sex that night. Was that all really a dream?

“Geez, get it together,” you whispered to yourself. “There’s no way you slept with a complete stranger last night.”

It had to be the exhaustion, you told yourself. You just needed a break.

“Yunho, you gotta find someone to fuck, otherwise you’re going to vanish. You know how it is,” a demon sighed.

Yunho was with his incubus friends chatting and people watching as they sat in public in their human forms.

“No, I know, Mingi. I found someone,” Yunho answered.

“Wow, the picky incubus finally chose someone?!” another demon exclaimed.

“Shut up, San. And, yes, I did.”

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Mingi asked.

“Just… Someone.”

Mingi and San looked at each other with concern as Yunho looked away, a light blush appearing on his face.

“Yunho… When did you meet this woman?” Mingi asked.

“About a month or two ago.”

“And how many times have you slept with this woman?” San continued the line of questioning.

“Uh, I think eight times.” Yunho lied. “Why?”

“You need to find someone else.”

“Why?”

“Dude, are you stupid, or did you forget that you can only fuck her so many times before she dies?”

Yunho pressed his lips together and looked away. Of course he knew that. He knew, but he couldn’t help it. He loved you. Demons weren’t supposed to fall in love, but there was just something about you that drew him toward you. He couldn’t keep away.

“You’re only at eight—”

“I lied. It’s ten.”

“Okay, fine. You’ve only fucked her ten times, right?” San clarified. “You have to find someone else.”

“It’s not so easy! You guys know how I am.”

“Yes, we do. At least find someone else before you hit twenty,” Mingi said with a sigh. “You don’t want to end up like Yeosang, do you?”

Yeosang was another incubus that was part of Yunho’s little group. He, too, fell in love with a human and fucked her until the fated number— forty-two. When she passed away, Yeosang couldn’t move on. Because he wasn’t having sex, he withered away, leaving both the human world and demon world.

“I know. I’ll find someone else…” Yunho conceded.

It was the weekend for you, and you had a long and stressful week thanks to work, which meant you were going to use the weekend to recover instead of spend it having fun with your friends.

Recovery to you meant sitting in bed, watching TV, and eating as much junk food as your body could handle. As you sat and mindlessly watched whatever it was playing on your television, your mind drifted to the dreams you’ve been having as of late.

It wasn’t every night, but it was starting to become more frequent. You kept dreaming of that man, Yunho, and he had sex with you in each dream. It felt so vivid and real, but every morning after the dream, you’d wake up to a clean bed and clean pajamas. You wished it was real, though. Yunho always fucked you right. He knew exactly how to treat you, which just made you feel even more delusional. How could a dream be better than sex in real life? The human mind truly is incredible.

Your mind kept going. You thought about Yunho and how he looked when he was sweaty and passionate hovering above you, the way he would brush two fingers along your temple to move your hair before leaving a light kiss on your forehead, his technique when he…

You started touching yourself. You thought about Yunho’s fingers, his tongue, his dick. You thought about how good he made you feel whenever you dreamt about him. You rubbed your middle finger over your clit while imaging it was his tongue, and with a soft moan, you slipped two of your fingers into your pussy— although it definitely wasn’t the same because Yunho was significantly bigger and longer.

You thought about the sweet nothings he would whisper in your ear as he fucked you softly. The way he called you baby, the way he praised you… Fuck.

You were close to cumming when all of a sudden an ad on the TV scared the shit out of you. It was loud and for a horror film. You immediately turned off the TV and threw the remote onto your nightstand. Great. The mood was gone. Annoyed, you pulled the covers over you and went to sleep

Yunho, meanwhile, had been watching you— demons had the ability to become invisible, so he was able watch you while leaning against your door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. Watching you was so hot, and if anything, it made him love you even more. He hated that you went to bed unsatisfied, so of course he had to act. He waited until you were fully asleep before turning into his human form and sitting on your bed.

You looked so peaceful lying there fast asleep. Yunho didn’t want to wake you up. But, you were legitimately dreaming about Yunho in that moment, calling his name in a whisper and clutching the air as if you were clutching him.

Yunho turned your head and bent down to kiss you, his lips gently taking your upper lip. It was a long and sweet kiss. Yunho thought that you would for sure wake up like Sleeping Beauty or some other princess, but you were still asleep. He couldn’t wait for you to wake up, though. His cock was itching, aching to pleasure you greatly.

Sloppy kisses echoed in the room as Yunho trailed his lips across your collarbones to your neck. You moaned quietly, shifted, and hugged Yunho with your eyes still closed— you ended up waking up when you felt his hair tickle your cheek. Your hand ran up from his shoulder to the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair.

“Yunho…?” you murmured.

“Yes, baby,” Yunho replied softly.

“Oh, good! You’re here,” you giggled softly while guiding his head towards yours. “I need you. My body needs you.”

“R-really?” Despite knowing that you were masturbating to him, he was still taken aback. He was in love with you, after all.

You nodded and shot him a small, loving smile before kissing his lips. Yunho was overjoyed. He was so overjoyed, in fact, that he could hold himself back. He was grabbing at your body and bringing you closer as if you would run away if he even let go of you for a split second. He rolled onto his back as you laid on his chest, your lips still locking with his, his tongue still playing with yours.

“I… I need you in me. Right now,” you broke the chain, breathing heavily as you spoke to him.

You tucked your thumb under your waistband and pulled your pajama pants along with panties down. Yunho was seriously over the moon. Eagerly, he helped you out of all of your clothes and stripped himself down at the speed of light so that he could swiftly enter you.

Yunho was overly eager. You had to hold onto his arms or shoulders to keep yourself upright as he thrust rapidly and harshly into your sopping wet cunt. Flinging your head back, you cried out in pure bliss when you felt his cock hit deep inside you, waves of pleasure spreading through your body rapidly.

There was no way you were ever going to be able to pleasure yourself properly, you thought to yourself as Yunho’s penis made you cum harder than you ever had before. There was no way you were going to be able to ever be satisfied, not when your dream was this fucking good.

When Yunho came, he came inside you. A thought about breeding you briefly flitted in his mind before he shut that down. He desperately wanted to be with you like that— he wanted to get married to you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. But, that was never going to happen. You were a human, he was a demon, and life was a bitch. He had to settle for being your “dream man” for now.

You were starting to feel weird. For a week straight, you had dreams about Yunho, and when you woke up, you were exhausted. There definitely was no way that the dream was real, which meant that you were dreaming so hard that your body wasn’t getting any rest, or something like that. You tried to rationalize it by yourself, but you realized that you just couldn’t figure it out alone.

You met up with one of your friends for coffee one day. Your friend expressed concern when she saw you literally chugging your coffee to get a new one.

“Okay, I haven’t been sleeping that great lately,” you started.

“Lay it on me, girl.”

“I’ve been having these… Dreams…”

“What kinds of dreams?”

You coughed. You were slightly embarrassed that you were going to admit to your friend that you were having wet dreams, but you had to tell her. “They’re, uh, sex dreams.”

“Oh?”

“And it’s so weird because it’s always the same guy… I’ve never seen the guy in real life before either, so I have no idea who I’m dreaming about.”

“Maybe you saw him in passing once, and now you just think about him.”

“Yeah… Maybe…”

You sighed and took a sip of your third coffee of the day— you had chugged yet another one right before you started explaining your reason for being exhausted to your friend.

“What goes on in these dreams?” she prompted you further.

“Well, he fucks me in every dream,” you said with a slight blush on your face.

“And how is it?”

“Honestly? …Fucking amazing.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah, like, oh my God! If I had sex like that in real life with that guy, I’d grab on and never let go.”

“Maybe we should go look for him? Make your dream a reality?”

You let out a little laugh— there was no way Yunho was real, but sure, you could go hunting for him.

There was a brief moment of silence between you and your friend before you admitted in a hushed tone, “But… Sometimes… I wonder if the dreams are real…”

“What on Earth? What do you mean by that?” you friend asked, her eyes wide.

“Like, I’ll wake up with my back just sore as hell, or my neck kind of bruised—”

“Like a hickey?”

“No, just… Sore and barely bruised. It’s also, like, an entire area and not a small mark.”

“Girly, I think it’s your bed. Get some new pillows and a new mattress.”

“I should… But my mattress cannot be the reason why I’m exhausted.”

“Have you been sleeping?” your friend asked (dumbly).

“Well, obviously, because how the fuck else would I dream about this all the time?” you responded while rolling your eyes. “But… I think I’m just dreaming about it so much that it’s exhausting when I wake up because I wasn’t, like, fully asleep or something…”

“Like lucid dreaming?”

“Yeah! That. Like that. What should I do to stop the lucid dreaming?”

“I think you need to see a doctor. It sounds like it could be sleep apnea or something as well.”

You nodded and continued talking to your friend.

Meanwhile, Yunho and his demon buddies, in their demon forms, were watching you from a distance while eavesdropping on your conversation (incubi had impeccable hearing).

“Yunho, leave her alone. You need to stop with her,” San lectured his friend with a frown.

“It’s easier said than done—”

“No, dude! If you really love her, then don’t do this!” Mingi interrupted.

Yunho sighed and looked down. His friends were right. You were getting weaker by the day, and it was his fault. But, he loved you, and he loved making love to you, and at that point, he’d rather have you die because of him and not because of some other factor. More morbid thoughts filled his head as he pondered his relationship with you.

“How many times has it been, Yunho?” San asked with a heavy sigh.

“…I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?! Are you fucking nuts?!” San shrieked.

Mingi stared at Yunho. He knew that his friend was lying. He grabbed Yunho’s shoulder and said almost threateningly, “You know. You know how many times you’ve slept with her, so tell us the truth and stop fucking lying to us.”

“Eighteen times…”

San nearly lost his shit and berated the demon, but he held back. With a frustrated scream, San told Yunho to get his shit together before flying off.

“We just don’t want you to leave us, Yunho. Please leave that woman alone,” Mingi spoke to his friend softly.

Yunho bowed his head. He couldn’t promise a single damn thing, and Mingi knew that. Mingi patted Yunho’s shoulder and took off as well, leaving Yunho alone to stare longingly at you.

“Nngh, Yunho,” you whined as you felt the tip of his tongue roll around your clit.

Your dream was really catering to you this time. This time around, Yunho was so gentle— although, he usually is gentle with you— and really focused on you. He was eating you out, and you were trembling under his sensual touch.

Yunho pushed your thigh up so that your leg ended up resting on his shoulder as his tongue prodded into you. You quivered when you felt his tongue go deeper inside you and run up the walls of your cunt. When he slurped up your arousal fluid, you felt your face get hot. You were embarrassed for a split second until you felt his tongue flick your clit back and forth, causing that thought to leave your mind and focus on keeping it together.

Two of his fingers rushed into you, and he fingered you fast. There was so much friction happening between your walls thanks to his fingers that you felt like he was about to start a fire in your cunt. His tongue continued to go after your clit ruthlessly, and his fingers refused to let up as you felt yourself reach your climax. You grabbed onto Yunho’s hair and held him tightly as you let out the most sonorous, pleasureful cry while squirting several times, your ass and thighs shaking. You were still moaning and crying after you finished, the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his tongue and fingers not leaving you so fast.

Through bleary eyes, you watched a tiny smirk appear on Yunho’s face. He looked so pleased with work, his fingers rubbing up and down your folds as he felt up your wetness.

“Oh, God… Yunho,” you sighed as you flung your head back into your pillow, stars starting to fill your vision. “So… Fucking… Good…”

With that, you were out like a light. Yunho looked at you completely passed out, your hair splayed wildly, your bare chest moving up and down rhythmically, and your pussy still quivering, luring him.

He wished you were awake, but he didn’t have it in him to wake you up, nor did he have it in him to just up and walk away. You looked so fucking sexy to him— he finger-fucked you senseless, and it gave up a sort of pride to see that he was the one who did that to you. His boner was pressing hard against his pants. He needed to relieve it, and seeing as how your cunt was unsheathed and still soaking wet, he tentatively but ultimately used you to calm his throbbing dick down.

Already shirtless, Yunho just unbuckled and pulled his pants down. He moved your legs so that they were on either side of him, his cock resting on top of your stomach. He lifted your hips upwards, your ass barely on the bed at that point, before rubbing his length along your folds. You moaned slightly when he pushed the tip of his cock into you, but you were still asleep. Even when his cock entered you entirely, you had yet to wake up again. You were out cold.

Yunho felt so wrong fucking you, the woman he loves, while you were asleep, but when your pussy clenched around his dick, he gasped and shivered, all logic and reasoning leaving his head. He had to fuck you. He had to fuck you until your cunt was quivering and throbbing. He had to fuck you until he filled you up completely with his sperm, cumming more than several times inside you.

Without letting up, Yunho just kept thrusting and thrusting and thrusting into you sometimes softly, sometimes with immense force at different tempos and rhythms. His breathing was rough and ragged, and at times he wanted to stop, but your pussy was so addicting that he just couldn’t. Even after he filled you up to the point where cum was literally overflowing from your pussy, he wanted more. But, for the night, he had to stop. It was almost sunrise.

You were drained as fuck when you woke up the next morning. Your back was hurting, and your chest would hurt any time you inhaled too deeply. Something was wrong, but you didn’t know what it was. All you knew was that it was starting to scare you a little how adverse your body was starting to react.

San decided to check in on you one day. He debated changing into his human form, but the second he saw your physical state, he realized that he didn’t need to. He immediately departed for Yunho’s place to berate him.

“If you keep this up, Yunho, you’re going to die, too!”

San was walking, more like chasing, behind Yunho while lecturing him, Yunho walking away from his friend, trying to avoid the conversation. Technically speaking, he could just fly away, but San would follow even in the air, and he didn’t feel like using that energy to have the argument. 

“Since when do demons care about whether or not a human dies?!” Yunho shot right back.

“Because you love this specific human, and I know you! I know that if she dies, it’ll kill you! Do you really want to end up like Yeosang?!”

“Stop fucking bringing him up, San! Yeosang died because he chose to kill himself. I’m going to keep living after Y/N dies, so fucking leave me alone!”

“I seriously fucking doubt it, asshole,” San flew right in front of Yunho, getting the man to stop moving. “You’re such a sentimental bastard. There’s no way you would kill her without it haunting you forever. You would never be able to live with the fact that you killed the love of your undead life!”

“Just shut the fuck up, San! I know!” Yunho started crying. “I don’t want her to die, but I can’t… I can’t control myself! Every time I see her, I just want to make love to her all night long!”

“Then stay away from her! This world so big. You can fly to another country and make your rounds there! Forget about her. Let her go, and let her live.”

Yunho nodded slowly. San was right. He knew San was right.

“How many times have you slept with her, now?” San asked, afraid to hear the number.

“Thirty.”

“Shit… You need to get the fuck away from her. Right now. Go.”

San shooed Yunho away, Yunho taking off. San watched his friend fly away, praying to their demon overlord that Yunho would listen to him for once.

But of course, Yunho wasn’t going to listen. After all, his love for you superseded logic and reason.

You were losing it. You were so fucking drained, your dreams continuing to exhaust you. You kept thinking that it had to be real, that there was no way you body would be so worn down just by dreaming about sex. Yet, when you woke up in the morning, nothing seemed to be out of place. You looked exactly like you did before you went to bed the night before except with your hair a little bit messier and your clothes just a tiny bit wrinkled.

It was hot outside, and yet, you were shivering. After requesting the day off from work, you dragged yourself to the doctor’s office to see what the fuck was going on with your body.

“Well, Y/N. You’re fine… I don’t know what to tell you,” the doctor said while scratching their head— they were confused as well.

“There’s gotta be some sort of explanation!” you exclaimed. “You seriously didn’t hear anything wrong with my breathing? Because I have been having difficulty breathing, and I shouldn’t be shivering like this when it’s summer!”

“It’s baffling to me too, Y/N! I wish I could give you an answer for all this, but I seriously can’t find anything abnormal… Have you been sleeping well?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, that’s a start. Why haven’t you been sleeping well?”

“I keep having these… Dreams…”

“Nightmares?”

“No, it feels too good to be a nightmare…” you admitted before immediately clamping your mouth shut. You were already mortified that one of your friends knew about your sexual dreams, and you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of your doctor. “The main thing is that these dreams are so hyperrealistic that they leave me feeling more exhausted when I wake up.”

“Alright…” your doctor scribbled on a pad. “I’m going to put in an order for this medication, so start with this, and if your sleep is still disturbed, then we’ll do a sleep study for you.”

You nodded and took the prescription from the doctor, and you thanked the doctor before you left the building. Immediately after leaving, you picked up the new prescription from the doctor and went home to test it out immediately.

The pills worked. About an hour after you took one dose, you passed out in bed. You were so knocked out that you didn’t even realize that Yunho sat on the bed and immediately started feeling you up. Although, despite the fact that you were fast asleep, that didn’t stop you from moaning when you felt his fingers run up your calf, along your thigh, and to your crotch.

“Y/N,” he whispered as he left soft kisses along your exposed arm. “Baby…”

He had laid beside you and was touching any and every part of you with a feather light touch. You smiled softly and turned towards him, but you were still completely asleep. Even when he brushed your hair behind your ear and ran his fingertips from your forehead to your chin, you remained asleep. Yunho trapped your lower lip in between his fingers before dragging you towards him, his lips overtaking yours. He was amazed when he realized that you were kissing back. You, fully asleep, were responding to his advances. It was exhilarating.

Yunho kissed you passionately for a solid several minutes before releasing you, a sigh escaping your lungs, and a pout settling on your face. You, unconsciously, did not want Yunho to stop. Yunho didn’t want to stop either, especially not while his crotch was getting tighter by the second. Sitting up to kneel, Yunho removed his pants, his cock springing out.

It wasn’t until that moment did Yunho feel like a real incubus. Usually, he would wake up whoever it was he was going to sleep with because he felt kind of uncomfortable making love to someone who was unresponsive (for the most part), but you could not be awoken. He spat on his hand and stroked his dick a couple times before moving so that his cock was positioned right by your lips. It was only when Yunho held your face with one hand and squeezed your cheeks did your mouth open properly, allowing him to slip his dick into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his cock the deeper it went into your mouth, and even half fucking asleep, you still gagged and stayed asleep. Yunho bit back moans as he felt you suck hard on him, and he had to control himself as he began to thrust gently into your mouth. You were moaning lightly with his dick still deep in your mouth, and the stimulation was too much for him to handle. Grabbing your head, he pushed you towards him and shoved deep into your throat, his cock twitching and throbbing as he came in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Yunho hissed as he realized what he had done after it was over.

He pulled out from your mouth and watched a trail of white connect your tongue to the tip of his penis. When you closed your mouth and swallowed, Yunho couldn’t take it. His cock stiffened almost immediately, and he desperately wanted to be inside you.

Usually, he would take your clothes off carefully, but Yunho couldn’t bear it any longer. He snatched your pants off and nearly tore your night shirt as he removed that as well. He left your panties on and just pushed them to the side quickly so he could be inside you as soon as possible. He groaned loudly as he felt how fucking tight you were despite him fucking you so many times. He loved your body so goddamn much.

As he rolled his hips into you repeatedly, he also massaged your breasts, earning sweet moans and sighs from you. It was a wonder how you hadn’t woken up yet. Even when he slammed his pelvis into you, you were still asleep. It turned Yunho on more than it should’ve.

“Y/N, baby, oh fuck,” Yunho bit out; he was so close to cumming.

Your moans had turned into whimpers and whines by that point because your body was also ready. Yunho came first, and he came inside you, only to feel your arousal fluid start to squirt out of you. As soon as he pulled out, you squirted and cried loudly, your entire body shaking as your orgasmed. Yunho for sure thought you would wake up by that point, but you were still fucking fast asleep. Those were some strong fucking pills.

The medication the doctor gave you was working— it knocked you out, and you hadn’t dreamt about Yunho since you started taking it, but you were still run down. You noticed that you were losing weight rapidly and that you could barely keep food down. You were dehydrated no matter how much water you drank, and the cherry on top to the whole goddamn thing was that you felt like you were dying, but your doctor said you were fine.

“Let’s get you on that sleep study, okay?” the doctor said. “Maybe we’ll get some answers from there. If not, we can go through more tests, but the sleep one first.”

You got set up for the sleep study and slept for the first time in a while without the medication the doctor provided, and you didn’t dream. Not once.

Yunho, in his demon form, sat in the room with you while you laid in the bed for the study. He watched the way your eyelashes would flutter, the way your lips would part slightly as you switched from breathing with your nose to your mouth, and the small, cute little freckles that he missed seeing when he was too busy fucking you. God, he loved you so much. So fucking much.

Mingi met up with Yunho the next morning, the two of them standing and watching the nurse take the electrodes off you.

“Yunho. She looks like shit.”

“Shut the fuck up, she’s beautiful—”

“She was beautiful.” Mingi interrupted. “You’re sucking the life out of her… What number have you hit now?”

Yunho couldn’t respond. The number was forty, but he didn’t want to say the number out loud because he hoped that he was wrong, that he hadn’t slept with you so many times.

“You know what you need to do if you want to keep her on this planet,” Mingi stated.

“I do.”

“Are you going to do it?”

A tear rolling down his cheek, Yunho turned to Mingi and shook his head. He couldn’t stay away. He loved you.

“You really are a demon, Yunho.”

You got the results back— they were normal. You were actually so fucking confused. How could you feel miserable but be completely disease free whenever you tested for anything? You scheduled a couple more check ups at the hospital, but you knew that deep down, there were going to be no results, that you were going to be labelled as fine. Still, you had to go through the check ups for the sake of going through them.

You stopped taking the medication by that point, wondering if the medication was actually making it worse. You hadn’t dreamt about sex with Yunho in so long, but to prepare, you studied up on lucid dreaming. If you dreamt about him that night, you were going to snap out of the dream. You were going to find natural ways to stop the dreams from keeping you up.

And so, you went to bed that night, fully expecting to wake up in your lucid dream.

It’s just a lucid dream, you told yourself when you stirred from your slumber. You knew the ways to wake up from a lucid dream, and you were going to put them to the test today, but when you saw Yunho, you couldn’t. Fuck, he was just a figment of your imagination— how did you fall for someone that wasn’t even real?

And yet, your heart ached when you saw him sitting on the edge of your bed. He looked so sad. Why was your lucid dream doing this to you?

“Yunho?” you whispered gently.

Yunho turned his head.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re awake?”

“I’m… Awake?”

You couldn’t process the words— Yunho fully embraced you tightly, his arms squeezing you to the point where you definitely could have broken a bone. He dug his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply, making you tingle all over.

“I miss you,” he whispered sadly.

You were rendered speechless when he dropped his head into the nook of your neck and left a soft, sensual kiss on your exposed skin. You felt yourself get swept away in his affection when he lifted you and laid you down on the bed so that he was pinning you down before immediately running his hands up your shirt.

Yunho was urgently trying to get you out of your clothes. He should’ve taken his time with you knowing that it was going to be the last time, but the fact that you were actually awake this time made him overly eager to be intimate with you. He got you out of your clothes in record time, his hands roaming your body immediately.

You moaned loudly and flung your head back as you felt his mouth meet your breast. While his mouth worked on your breast, his fingers moved down to stroke your— you didn’t realize that you were so completely wet— cunt, his finger brushing along your clit several times. You were whining and rocking your hips gently as his fingers teased you and his teeth tugged on your nipple.

“You like that, baby?” Yunho, after leaving your nipple with a slightly painful suck, asked you softly.

You nodded, words still evading you. Your brain was starting to go numb with pleasure, and truth be told, you felt as if you were nearing your climax in record time. Yunho, however, noticed your eyes start to roll back as you suppressing your incoming orgasm, so he stopped. He wanted, nay, needed to be inside you and feel your walls tighten around his throbbing penis.

Yunho leaned away from you to remove his own clothes, making you miss the warmth of his physical contact. Your arms reached out for him silently, and that’s when you noticed that Yunho’s face was twisted into a painful frown.

“Yunho?” you whispered, a word finally leaving your lips. “What’s wrong?”

Immediately shaking his head, the frown left, and Yunho smiled at you, but you could tell that his smile was fake. You knew him well by that point, and that smile was definitely not how he usually smiled at you.

But, you didn’t get time to press further. Yunho was completely naked and about to make love to you. He pinned you on the bed once more and rubbed his cock against your clit a couple times.

There was a little nagging voice in the back of Yunho’s mind, and that voice was a mix between San and Mingi telling him not to fuck you. And he seriously didn’t want to because he wanted you to stay alive for him, but the thought of not being able to sleep with you ever again also drove him insane.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Yunho whispered.

You didn’t know what Yunho was apologizing for— you thought it was because he thrust into you so hard without warning, but it was really because he was sorry for what was going to happen to you after. His cock went deep inside you and nearly hit your cervix, but Yunho controlled himself because he didn’t want you to cum so fast. He wanted to fuck you for as long as humanly possible. He wondered if he could just keep his penis inside you until the end of time, that way you could stay alive, but he was itching to move.

Your back arched with every stroke of pleasure, and you felt yourself get lightheaded as euphoria approached. The way Yunho was rolling his hips into you made you feel so fucking good, so fucking sexy, and you wanted more and more. You held onto his shoulders and pulled him towards you, connecting your lips with his, and you kept your hold on him as you desperately made out with him.

You missed Yunho too. Although it was just your brain, you missed having such satisfying sex with him. He made you feel incredibly good when he ran his hands along your waist and over your hips, and his long cock filled you so well that you felt like your cunt was truly made for him.

“Oh my God, Yunho!” you stopped kissing him and cried out when you felt his waist start slamming into yours. “Faster!”

Yunho shivered. Hearing you order him around nearly made him cum. Nonetheless, he listened to you. He thrust into you as fast as he could, making you feel like his penis was going to pull your insides out with his speed, girth, and power. You felt your head press further back into the pillow below your head, your hold on Yunho getting tighter to the point where you were definitely leaving nail marks in his skin.

“Fu-uck,” Yunho bit out. “I’m cumming.”

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to, but he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, especially not after seeing you all sexy and disheveled under you. Shutting his eyes tightly and letting a singular tear roll down his cheek, Yunho released his load in you, his white and sticky cum filling you up.

The feeling of Yunho’s cum spurting into you was the final thing you needed to bring you to climax. As soon as he pulled out, you came loudly, your cry echoing loudly in the room.

What Yunho feared happened almost immediately. Your hold on him weakened, your arms slipping to your sides. He immediately wrapped his arms around you and brought you up, desperately praying that if he did anything, you wouldn’t pass. He kissed your lips, ran his hands through your hair, placed his hand over your heart, but nothing. Just as it was for centuries, forty-two was the unfortunate number, and the two of you had reached it.

You felt your conscious slipping from you, and as your eyelids grew heavy, you noticed that Yunho’s form had suddenly changed. He went from being the tall man with the fair skin and soft brown hair to this red skinned, horned devil with scales covering his body and wings sprouting from his back. He looked like himself, but it was a horrible terrifying version of himself with solid, black eyes, fangs, and long ears that stuck straight out of the side of his head. In other words, Yunho was a demon, and you knew that he was right in your last moments— you immediately knew that sex with Yunho was not a dream, and that you were most definitely awake every time you consciously fucked him.

His demon form terrified you to the point where you were able to let out a scream and try your best to get away from him, but you passed out before you could even push you away, and soon, everything faded to black for you. Completely. Forever.

Yunho, seeing that he had actually transformed into his demon self right before you fully died, was mortified. How could your very last memory of him be his true self and not the man of your dreams? He felt like in the most literal sense that he scared you to death.

Yunho finally understood how Yeosang felt. He stayed in his invisible demon form and kept an eye on your decaying body until someone discovered you. He followed you all the way to the hospital and accompanied your family as they set up a proper funeral for you.

During the entire funeral, Yunho wept. He had so, so many regrets. He regretted having sex with you so many times, he regretted not stopping before he hit forty-two, and he regretted not telling you that he loved you. He did not, however, regret falling in love with you. If he could, he’d do it all over again.

Yunho seriously could not move on after you. He found some people to help him elongate his life, but he couldn’t live with the guilt of knowing that he killed the love of his life. San and Mingi did their best to help Yunho keep it together, but the same way Yeosang had vanished, Yunho did too. There was no point in staying around if he couldn’t be with you.

#ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #jeong yunho ateez #yunho ateez #jeong yunho smut #broatz #broatz request

[sagesolsticewrites]

“i can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” | Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

12 years ago, Elvis chose his career over you. What happens when he shows up at your door asking for a second chance?

a/n: this is entirely based on a dialogue prompt I saw from @twelvegods: “I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” apparently it was a really good prompt because it inspired all 8,735 words of this lol. I I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it <3 Thank you all again so so so much for 500 followers!!

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: a couple swear words, lots of angst in the first half, Y/N has trust issues oops, I think that's it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

“I’m gonna marry you someday.”

That’s what Elvis Presley had said to you when he was just 20 years old and his career was starting to take off, thanks in large part (as Elvis said) to the Colonel. And you, being the young girl in love that you were, believed him.

What a fool you were.

You managed to stay together for another year before the Colonel, his claws digging into Elvis’s heart and soul to bleed all the green he could out of him, managed to convince him that appearing single would be what was best for his career— he had to let all those screaming girls believe they had a chance with him, after all.

“Baby please,” Elvis pleaded, “this is for my career. I promise it won’t be for long. We’ll get back together, you’ll see.”

You shook your head, “No, Elvis. I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you like some damsel in distress. If you want me, keep me. But otherwise…”

You paused, waiting for him to say something. Begging, pleading, praying he would say something, that you had managed to change his mind.

When he said nothing, you exploded.

You had screamed and cried, and he had screamed and cried, and you had taken your things that had made their way into his room in Graceland and stormed out of his life for good, only pausing to give him one final sincere “I love you” before you walked out the door.

The last image you had of him (that wasn’t on a tv screen or poster) was of him standing in the foyer in Graceland, tears streaming down his face, refusing to chase after you.

You hoped that time would eventually heal your wounded heart, but apparently whoever said time heals all wounds was a fucking idiot because it was now just over a decade later and you were still as in love with Elvis Presley as you had been when you were one of the only girls in the world who knew his name.

He, evidently, didn’t feel the same.

That much was clear, at least, based on the way he was still overly flirtatious with his audience in his shows, not to mention the rumors about relationships with his movie co-stars. In his shows, before he went off to Germany, he had taken to stepping down into the audience and kissing practically every woman in the room. That alone cleared any remaining doubts from your mind that he still thought about you in any capacity, despite that little voice in the back of your head that still held out some futile, desperate hope.

You’re about to curl up on the couch with some tea and your copy of Anne of Green Gables — exactly what you need on a rainy day like today — when someone knocks on your door.

“You expecting anyone, Y/N?” your friend Annie calls from the hall. You had been living with her for about 5 years down in Louisiana, after the memories in Memphis had become too much, and you loved it.

“Nope,” You call back, wondering who on earth would be knocking on doors in this weather. “If it’s one of those door-to-door salesmen, slam it in his face again.” You suggest with a laugh.

“Will do,” comes her reply, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

You turn you attention back to your book as the door opens, and nearly spill your tea all over yourself as you hear a sultry drawl you hadn’t heard in person in over a decade.

“Hi Annie… is Y/N here?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re sure Annie is as stunned as you are, then:

“Maybe,” she replies curtly, “What do ya want?”

Annie knew the whole story of you and Elvis, and she had sworn that she’d never let you get hurt like that ever again.

“Please, Annie, I just wanna talk to her.”

“And why should I let you? You’ve got a lotta nerve comin’ here after what you did—“

You’re not sure what prompts you to set your book and mug down and sigh “Annie, just let him in,” but you’re just as surprised as Annie is that you did.

She reluctantly steps aside to let him in, eyeing him warily the entire time.

Your eyes drink him in; this is the first time you’re seeing him in person in over 12 years, and your mind automatically catalogs the differences since you last saw him. He’s tanned, with a few more freckles, a result of the California sun, no doubt, and tinted glasses hide his eyes. His burgundy suit is soaked, and his hair, which was no doubt carefully styled before, now flops onto his forehead, dripping into his eyes.

He takes off his sunglasses, revealing tired blue eyes. From the way his eyes track along your body, he was drinking you in the same way you had done him.

There’s a beat of silence, then his eyes finally meet yours.

“Hi,” he says softly.

You maintain a straight face, unwilling to be taken in so easily.

“What do you want?” you ask, your voice cold. You want nothing more than to rush into his arms, but you remind yourself: he chose his career over you, and never looked back.

“I fired the Colonel,” he blurts, after several moments of trying to figure out what to say.

“About time,” you snort, dropping your serious demeanor for a split second, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“I made a mistake, Y/N. A lotta mistakes, really, but letting you go was the biggest one I ever made in my life. I missed you so, so much, and I—“

You cut him off, “Elvis, cut the shit. You made it very clear you moved on from me.”

“Y/N, I never stopped thinkin’ about you, I promise.”

“Sure, and was that before or after you kissed every girl in the audience at the end of every damn show?”

“Y/N, I—“ he starts, frustrated, then takes a deep breath. He starts again, calmer, softer, “I know how that looks. But I… I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” He looks earnestly into your eyes.

You feel your cracked heart melt just a little at his words, and yet…

“I don’t…” you sigh, “I don’t believe you. You put your career before me over a decade ago, and I tried to move on, but I couldn’t when I was seeing your face and hearing your voice everywhere, and it hurt like hell. And now you walk back in here, tell me you just made a mistake, and… what? Expect me to take you back just like that?”

“Please, Y/N,” he says, an echo of his plea back when he broke your heart for the first time, “I know I messed up bad, but… it’s you. It’s always been you, with those girls in the audience, even with Ann-Margret… I was always thinkin’ about you. And I’m willin’ to do whatever I have to to fix this. Anything. I mean it.”

And you can see the conviction in his eyes, like he’s that little boy again who believed he was Captain Marvel Jr. and could fly his family out of poverty to the Rock of Eternity. You know in your bones that he’d buy you the moon if it meant he could love you again.

But you’d made the mistake of believing his promises before.

“Elvis, I don’t know if I can trust you. How do I know you won’t drop me when your next manager thinks that’d be ‘what’s best for your career’?”

He winces as you throw the Colonel’s words from all those years ago back in his face. “I know I ruined any kind of trust you had in me that day, and I can’t tell you enough how goddamn sorry I am, Y/N. But I’m not askin’ for you to forgive me right now, I just want a chance to try and fix this. That’s all, I swear.”

He waits as you process his words, practically holding his breath as you think of how to reply.

“I’ll think about it,” you say softly.

He nods. “That’s all I’m askin’ for, sw— Y/N,” he fumbles to avoid using the old pet name for you.

“I think you should go now,” you say, your voice cold again to hide how the almost-pet name brought a storm of feelings rushing back..

“Right, um..” he fumbles around in his pocket, producing a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it, “Gimme a call, if you want? I’ve gotta head back to Memphis in a couple days, that’ll probably be the easiest way to reach me if you, uh, decide anything.”

“Okay,” you nod, glancing at it quickly before stuffing it in your pocket. The number was for Graceland’s house phone; a number you’d never forgotten for a second, not that you’d be telling Elvis that.

“Well, um… bye Y/N, Annie,” he nods as he moves past your roommate towards the door. He pauses, hesitating for a moment before turning back to you. “You look good, Y/N,” he says softly before heading back out into the downpour.

The “you, too” you whisper in reply is lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement outside.

The enormity of everything that had just transpired suddenly hits you and you fall back onto the couch, tears welling up in your eyes.

Annie rushes over, concerned. You look up as she fusses over you.

“Was that… did that actually just happen?”

Annie nods, “Yeah, it did, honey. I can scarcely believe it myself.”

“Did I do the right thing?” You wring your hands, suddenly second-guessing every decision you made during the interaction with Elvis.

“I know I’ve always said that I’d punch him in his smug face if he ever showed up here after what he did to you,” Annie says, “But I see the way you look at him when he shows up on the TV, and that ain’t the look of someone who’s just angry at an ex. You’re still in love with him, honey, I know it, and I feel like a fresh start is what both of you need. I don’t mean to overstep,” she drawls, “But if I can give you some advice: just start over as friends. Don’t jump back into a relationship right away. Try to make it organic. A clean slate.”

“A clean slate,” you echo, processing her words.

You mull over what to do for a few days, worst and best-case scenarios swirling around your brain, and eventually dial Graceland. Your foot taps anxiously as you lean against the wall by the phone, listening to it ring.

“Hullo?” A raspy voice comes over the receiver.

“Hi, Elvis,” you say, trying your best to sound casual, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh, hey,” he stammers, sounding less like the confident King of Rock and Roll superstar and more like the shy little kid you’d grown up with, “Uh, how are you?”

“I’m alright.” You reply, “Look, I did some thinking about what you said and, well… I’ve got a couple questions before I decide anything.”

“Sure, yeah, what is it?”

“Well, first of all… why now?”

“Huh?”

You sigh, “It’s been over 10 years, Elvis. What made you come back now? What made you fire the Colonel after all this time?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t very happy with the movies the Colonel was signing me up for. And then he planned this whole silly special for NBC…” he sighs, “I’ve been lost ever since I lost Mama— before that, even, when I lost—“ he cuts himself off with an awkward cough, “uh, anyway; he wasn’t helping. And I finally realized that he didn’t really care what I wanted to do. It was all about profit for him,” he says quietly. He goes on to explain hiring Binder and Bones to help with the special, to “find himself” again, and the realization he’d had that he hadn’t truly felt like himself since he’d left you.

“Hm,” is your only response at first, trying to shove down the warmth growing in your chest. “Well, um… thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to know, Y/N… you can trust me. I know I ruined that back then, but I’d really like a chance to try and rebuild it with you if I can.”

“I think I’d like that, too.” You say after a moment of silence. “Look, Elvis, I… I don’t think it would be a good idea, if we’re gonna do this, to pick up right where we left off. We need a… a clean slate. So what if we started over as friends?” You fidget with the phone cord as you await his reply.

There are several moments of silence, and you're wondering if something happened with the call before his raspy drawl comes over the phone once more.

“I’d love to be your friend again, Y/N.”

A wave of relief floods your body, and you smile. You think for a moment before speaking again, saying hesitantly, “I’m coming up to visit for Mama’s birthday next weekend, and… maybe we could see each other then? That would be a ‘friend’ thing to do, right?”

“Yeah, I’d… I’d really like that.”

“Great, well,” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, “I’ll just give you a call when I’m back home and we can figure everything out then?”

“Whatever works for you is fine with me,” he assures you, “I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

“Me, too,” you say softly, allowing a tiny bit of the warmth you felt earlier to creep back. “I’ll see you next weekend, then.”

“See you then,” he says and with a click, the phone is back to humming a dial tone.

You’re buzzing with anticipation for the next week, not only excited to see your family but also to see Elvis.

“Y/N!” Your mother rushes out as you pull into the driveway of your family’s Memphis home, “My baby’s home!”

“Happy birthday, Mama,” you smile as she rushes up to give you a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Thank you, darlin’. Come inside, honey, come in!” she insists, grabbing your suitcase from you despite your protests.

“Honey!” she calls to your father as she leads you into your childhood home, “Look who’s finally decided to come for a visit!”

“Mama, I was just here for Easter,” you remind her as you head to the living room to greet your father. “Hi Daddy,” you smile as he pulls you in for a hug.

“Good to see you, sweetheart,” he says, “Louisiana treatin’ you well?”

You nod, “Mhm. Everyone’s real nice, and Annie’s always lookin’ out for me.”

You fill your parents in on life in Louisiana, and in return they (your mother, mostly) regale you with all the Memphis gossip you’ve missed. Apparently the young couple next door had a baby recently, another young couple in town just got married, and oh yes, Elvis came back fr—

“Mary Ann, you know I don’t like talkin’ about that boy!” your father exclaims, cutting your mother off.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do, Walter,” your mother retorts, “It’s not as if we can pretend he doesn’t exist, not when he’s such a big part of this town…”

As you listen to your parents bicker, you decide that now might as well be as good a time as any to bring up your new friendship.

“Actually, Mama,” you interrupt their bickering, “I’m gonna try and meet up with Elvis while I’m in town this weekend…”

Your father’s expression flickers between confusion and anger at your words, while your mother’s morphs into one of delight.

“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!” She exclaims, “Though I admit, I thought you’d’ve at least called to tell us you got back together—“

“Mama!” You cut her off, heat flooding your face, “We’re not back together, I promise,” you add with a glance over to your father. “He showed up at our place last week, we had a talk, and we’re gonna try to be friends again.”

“Well I’m glad to see the two of you are startin’ over, honey,” your mother says with a smile

“I still don’t trust that boy,” your father grumbles. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You nod, “Of course, you know I always am, Daddy.”

”When were you two planning on meeting up?” your mother asks.

You shrug, “We haven’t figured out the details yet. I was gonna call him today to sort everything out.”

”Well you should invite him over for dinner while you’re in town.” your mother suggests, with just a hint of a mischievous sparkle in her eye, ignoring your father’s clear alarm at the suggestion.

You groan. “Mama, no, he really doesn’t need to come for dinner—“

”Y/N L/N, inviting a friend over for dinner is a polite thing to do,” your mother scolds, “and in this house we are always…?”

“Polite and respectful,” you mumble, repeating the words that had been drilled into you in childhood.

She nods, satisfied. ”It’s settled then. You two will have your little meetup and then he can come over for dinner that night, or the next if it suits him.”

”Yes, Mama,” you say, resigned. “I’ll go call him now.”

You make your way over to the kitchen, dialing the number you’ve had memorized for over 12 years.

“Hello?” The same raspy voice comes over the receiver.

”Hey, it’s um, it’s me. Y/N.”

”Oh, hey. Um, how are ya?”

”I’m alright. I’m back in town now, and Mama’s bein’… well, Mama, so you can imagine.” you say with a soft laugh.

”Oh, I can imagine,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “How was the drive up?”

The two of you make small talk for a bit, slowly easing back into being a part of each other’s lives, and eventually you remember the reason you called. “Oh, yeah, by the way; I was calling to see if there was a day or time that worked for you as far as meeting up this weekend?”

”Oh, yeah.” You can hear some rustling on his end, and you assume he’s checking his schedule. “I’m actually free this afternoon around 1 if that works? Or tomorrow?”

You weren’t prepared to see him quite so soon, but you suppose now is better than putting it off until tomorrow. “This afternoon is perfect. You still like that diner on Beale Street, right?”

He hums an affirmative, and you smile, “Great, I’ll meet you there at 1, then.”

”I’ll see you then,” and the line clicks back to a dial tone.

You head back to the living room, entering to see your parents doing a wonderfully poor job of pretending as though they weren’t listening to your conversation. You roll your eyes.

”I assume you already heard, but Elvis and I are meeting for lunch at 1, just as friends, Mama,” you say pointedly, noting the beam on your mother’s face. “I’ll ask him about dinner then.”

Your father harrumphs, but mainly keeps silent, a firm frown on his face.

”That’s wonderful, honey,” your mother beams, “You’ve gotta get goin’ pretty soon then, huh?”

“Huh?” You glance over at the clock on the mantle and sure enough, it’s already 15 past noon and you still haven’t changed out of the outfit you wore for the 6-hour drive up to Memphis. You grab your suitcase and race to make yourself presentable, managing to change into a dress that seems nice enough for a lunch outing (but not too fancy), fix your windswept hair, and reapply your makeup in a cool 30 minutes before racing out the door.

Before you can make it out to the porch, though, your father stops you, calling your name as you’re about to step out the door. You turn, “Yes, Daddy?”

He has a solemn look on his face. “Just… be careful, darlin’. You know me, I hold grudges like no one else, and I admit I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to you all those years ago. If you let him in, and he hurts you again somehow I… I don’t know what I’d do.”

You step back into the room and envelop him in a hug. “Thank you for looking out for me, Daddy. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m not the same girl I was when I met him.” You add with a sad smile.

He squeezes your hand comfortingly, “I know you’ll be smart. If he does anything, you come right to me and I’ll sort him out, alright?” You nod and, satisfied, he kindly shoos you out the door with a soft “Go on, have fun.”

You pull up to the diner to find that Elvis is already there, if the deep purple Cadillac parked nearby is any indication.

He waves from a booth near the back as you enter, his bodyguards seated at a table nearby. You slide into the seat across from him, pushing down the butterflies that threaten to stir. It might’ve been a bad idea to choose the place you went on your first date, you realize belatedly, but too late now.

“How are you?” he asks with a casual smile.

“Pretty good,” you reply, “My parents have been updating me on all the Memphis gossip I’ve missed since I was away, very exciting stuff,” you say sarcastically. “Mama says hi, by the way.”

“Tell her I say hi back,” he grins.

“Will do. Uh, how are you?” You say, trying to fall back into the rhythm of talking to him.

“I’m alright. There’s this big thing I’m gonna be workin’ on soon, I’m pretty excited for it.”

“Oh, big thing?” You ask, your interest piqued.

“It’s a…” he pauses, looking around, “no one really knows about it yet, so you gotta promise not to tell anyone, alright?”

You nod, and he continues, leaning in to whisper, “You remember that special I told you about, the one that Steve and Bones are helpin’ me with? It’s gonna be a TV special for NBC. A Christmas show, kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, it’ll have a couple of Christmas songs, but I really want it to be about finding myself again. Gettin’ back to the real Elvis.”

“Sounds exciting,” you reply, a genuine smile coming across your face at how excited he seems.

A starstruck waitress comes to take your order, and the conversation continues.

“So,” Elvis says, “how are you doin’ in Louisiana?”

“I actually really like it there,” you reply, smiling. “Annie’s great, obviously, and I found a job at a bookstore that I really love, things are goin’ pretty well. I do have the occasional grumpy customer, but that’s just how it is.” You finish with a shrug.

“Grumpy customer? Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell,” he says, sounding genuinely interested, and you can’t help but launch into the story of a man who was sure that Stranger in a Strange Land was in the nonfiction section no matter how many times you tried to lead him over to science fiction.

You finally fall back into a rhythm of friendly conversation, trading stories for over an hour before you finally bring up what your mother had asked.

“Oh by the way,” you say, sipping your milkshake, “Mama wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”

Elvis nearly chokes on the fry he’s just taken a bite of. “Sorry, what?”

“I told my parents that we were meeting up and she was adamant that I at the very least invite you to come over for dinner tomorrow— you know how she is about politeness—“ you explain, “but I promise, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I completely understand, I’d be more than happy to make up an excuse for you.”

“And refuse an invitation from Mrs. L/N? It’s like you want her to kill me,” he jokes. “I’d be more than happy to come,” he says, in a more sincere tone. “Besides, friends come over for dinner right?”

“Of course,” you say, trying to reassure yourself as much as him, “and Mama’s very excited to see you, so be prepared for that.”

“I always am,” he replies with a smile.

You arrange for him to come over at 7 the next night, and the rest of lunch goes smoothly until the check arrives, which starts off a round of bickering between the two of you about who should pay.

“Please let me get this, I want this to be a start to making it up to you,” Elvis argues.

“I appreciate it but I’m perfectly capable of paying for lunch, thank you very much,” you retort, and this goes on for several minutes before the two of you eventually agree to split the check.

“It was good to see you, Y/N,” Elvis says as you exit the diner, his bodyguards dutifully on alert as they follow you out.

“You, too.” You say. “I…” I didn’t realize just how much I missed you, is what you want to say, but instead, you go with “I had a good time.”

His face lights up as if those 5 little words were all he needed to brighten his day. He steps towards the Cadillac, throwing a friendly wave to you as he calls “See you tomorrow!”

You wave back, and you don’t realize how happy you are until your cheeks start to ache from smiling on the drive home.

The next day, your mother is practically frantic, bustling around the house making sure everything is perfect for when Elvis gets here.

“Mama, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s ever been here! And we’re just friends, please try to remember that.”

“Alright, alright, I know, honey. I just think it’s nice that you two are spending time together again, that’s—“

The doorbell rings, and your mother jumps into action, plucking microscopic bits of lint from your dress before hurrying to the door and opening it with a polite smile.

Elvis stands on your porch, bearing a polite smile and a bouquet of lilacs. “Hello, Mrs. L/N.”

“Hello, Elvis!” Your mother beams, “It’s wonderful to see you again. And you brought Y/N flowers, how sweet!” She looks pointedly at you.

Elvis lets out a nervous laugh as he steps into the house, “Actually, Mrs. L/N, these are for you. A birthday gift.” He holds out the bouquet to her with a shy smile, looking remarkably like the shy boy he had been back in ‘51 when you first became friends.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you dear. Wasn’t that kind of him, Walter?”

“Very kind,” your father grumbles in a tone that makes it seem as though Elvis had brought a pile of mud as a gift. He nods a greeting, “Hello, Elvis. California’s treatin’ you well, I hear.”

“Uh, yes, sir, it is. Thank you.” he replies.

When your father doesn’t respond, Elvis turns his attention to you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you reply, resisting the urge to fuss with your dress.

The awkward silence that follows is broken as your mother ushers everyone to the dining room, arranged so she and your father are at the heads of the table while you and Elvis are sitting across from one another.

The meal begins, and the conversation that follows is strained but polite, with your mother eagerly asking questions about life in California and Hollywood and Elvis answering modestly then turning the conversation back to your family, remaining the picture of a Southern gentleman. The conversation remains polite apart from your father’s not-so-subtle grumbling about Elvis running off the California, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, he decides to bring up the rumors of Elvis’s womanizing.

“So, Elvis,” your father says casually, though his eyes remain calculating, “what’s all this I hear about you and… what’s that actress’s name, Ann-Margret? Or have you moved on to someone new by now?”

You feel your face flush, and you’re sure the mortification shows on your face as you hiss for your father to stop, please.

“Oh well sir, that’s really all just the tabloids tryin’ to get their stuff to sell, there’s no truth to that at all, I promise. Ann-Margret is a good friend of mine now, though.” Elvis answers politely, unfazed as your mother quietly scolds your father.

“Walter, quit it, you’re scarin’ the boy!”

“Well good, he should be scared after what he did to my little girl!”

“Dad!” you exclaim, mortified, “We talked about this! We’re friends now, you promised you’d be polite!”

“No, it’s alright, Y/N,” Elvis assures you, briefly breaking eye contact with your father to glance over at you, “He’s just lookin’ out for you like any father would, and I respect you for that, sir.”

Your father grunts a reply, and the conversation picks up again, still polite but even more strained than before.

Elvis remains as polite as ever, even offering to take care of the dishes — “Oh I can get those plates for ya, don’t you worry Mrs. L/N” — and despite your determination for a clean slate, your mind betrays you, reminding you of how shy and overly polite he was the first few times he was over for dinner, especially after the two of you first got together. Sure, he’s gotten a little more confident, which you’ll admit is kind of attractive, but— NO.

You firmly cut off that train of thought, no matter how badly that little voice in the back of your head (the one that practically melted at the sight of him at your door with a bouquet, reminiscent of your first date) wants to keep on track. Just friends, clean slate, you remind yourself.

After the dishes are done, your mother prepares coffee for everyone and the four of you head to the living room. At one point, Elvis gets up to get a refill, and your father follows him.

Your father approaches Elvis once it’s clear that neither you nor your mother will be getting up, and corners him.

“Now Elvis, I’m gonna try to be polite, because my daughter’s told me you two are tryin’ to be friends and I respect her wishes, but I don’t trust you after what you did to her. And if I get even a hint that you’re playin’ with her feelings, well… I’m afraid that won’t end well for ya, son.”

Elvis nods quickly, “Sir I promise you, I have no intentions of playing with your daughter’s feelings. She’s very dear to me, and I swear I’d do anything to make sure she’s happy.” He says, conviction clear in his eyes.

Your father eyes Elvis for several long moments and, apparently satisfied, returns to the living room with more coffee for you and your mother.

Elvis takes a breath to compose himself — he’s forgotten how scary your father could be when he wanted to — and exits the kitchen, re-entering as you’re laughing at some comment your mother made.

You turn as he enters with a wide smile on your face, and he’s suddenly slammed back to a time where you looked at him like that every time he entered a room— when you looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars just for you.

Fighting the urge to rush over and kiss you senseless — that’s not something a friend would do, he reminds himself — he moves to sit in the armchair across from you, turning his attention to whatever neighbor your mother is gossiping about tonight.

The night eventually winds to a close and Elvis thanks your parents profusely for “a wonderful meal and even better company.”

Your mother waves off the compliment modestly, “Oh it was nothin’ darling. We’ll be glad to have you back anytime. Y/N, why don’t you walk our guest out while we take care of these last few things?” she says, gesturing to the coffee mugs still sitting out.

Elvis gives one last wave to your parents, wishing them well, before stepping out to the porch with you.

“Well, my parents loved you,” you tease as the two of you make your way to the pink Cadillac looking more than slightly out of place in your modest gravel driveway.

He lets out a shy laugh, “They haven’t changed a bit, that’s for sure. Your daddy’s still as protective as ever.” His tone softens as he continues, “It was nice seein’ them again. ‘Specially your mama. She’s always been better to me than I deserve.”

Acting on impulse, you lean over and squeeze his hand as you remember his own mama isn’t waiting for him at home anymore. “You’re welcome over anytime. I mean it.”

“Thank you,” he replies in a near whisper. Your hand stays clasped with his, the warmth of him tempting you closer, and his gaze drifts slowly down to your lips before the two of you snap back to yourselves and create a respectable two feet of distance between you.

“Uh, anyway,” you attempt to continue the conversation, refusing to acknowledge that moment of… whatever that was, “Are you gonna be here for a while longer?”

He shakes his head, “I’m actually gonna be leaving for California again tomorrow.” he says almost apologetically, adding with a nod to the house, “But I’ll still be able to call ya for a bit, right?”

A frown crosses your face as you remember: “I’m actually headin’ back to Louisiana tomorrow. But,” you brighten, “I can give you my number for down there if you want?”

“I’d love that,” Elvis smiles.

You rummage around in your pockets for anything you can scribble on, producing some long-forgotten shopping list and a small pen. You scrawl your phone number down and hand it to him, determinedly not noticing the sparks you feel as your fingers brush.

“I’ll call ya every night,” he says as he stuffs it in his pocket, “I’ll need ya to keep me updated on all the Louisiana gossip, hm?”

A sad smile crosses your face at the memory of the last time he’d made a promise like that. Despite all your talk of a clean slate, you can’t help but remind him, “Let’s not make promises you can’t keep, Elvis.”

You give him one last wave, wish him goodnight, and walk back inside, his pleas of “What? No, Y/N, this ain’t gonna be like that!” falling on deaf ears.

You put on a brave face for your parents the next day, joking about what a coincidence it was that both you and Elvis happened to be leaving town on the same day, but behind closed doors, you’re unable to block the memories of the last time he had promised he’d call you every night: when he went along with the Colonel on Hank Snow’s tour.

1955

“I’ll be back in time for prom, darlin’, I promise,” Elvis reassures you over the phone. “I’ll bring you a corsage, we’ll have a great time.”

“Okay,” you reply, “I’m sorry, I know I must sound silly, but I’m just really lookin’ forward to going with you.”

“That’s not silly,” he assures you with a soft laugh, “I’m lookin’ forward to it, t—“ he cuts off, and you can barely make out what sounds like a knock on the door on his end of the line. “That’ll be Scotty again, no doubt.” he groans good-naturedly. There’s some shuffling as he makes his way over, yanking the door open with a “Scotty, how many times do I have to tell ya—“

“Elvis?” you say, concerned at how he cuts off mid-sentence, “Is everything alright?”

There’s a moment of silence, after which he stammers out a response.

“I, uh… I gotta go, I’ll call ya back, darlin’, alright?”

He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer before hanging up, but in the split second before it goes to a dial tone you can just make out a woman’s sultry voice over the receiver.

1968 - Present Day

He had still called after that, but not as frequently; certainly not every day like he promised. And while you forgave what happened on tour, you had never quite forgotten what him being away for a stretch of time could mean.

Still. Clean slate. Maybe this time could be different, you reasoned, though you were barely convincing yourself at this point.

You head back to Louisiana, promising your parents you’ll visit again soon and that you’ll give them a call as soon as you get home. You stumble through the door of your little house, exhausted after the 6-hour drive. Annie rushes over to hug you.

“Hey honey! Good to have ya home,” she grins, taking your suitcase from you, “I’ve got lunch for ya, you go sit down. I’ll put this in your room. And then I wanna hear all about how that li’l meetup went,” she adds with a wink, gently shoving you towards the kitchen while she heads down the hall.

You smile as you enter the kitchen to see a little card with the words “Welcome Home” in Annie’s signature scrawl next to a plate on the counter. You take a bite of the sandwich waiting for you �� grilled cheese, Annie’s specialty — and finally allow yourself to relax. At that moment, Annie slides in with a mischievous grin, plopping herself down on the stool next to you.

“So…” she leads, a sparkle in her eye. “How was it?”

“It was good,” you reply, purposefully misinterpreting her question, “We took Mama out for dinner and I made her a cake—”

Annie cuts you off with a playful swat to your arm, “Not that! Elvis,” she says, dragging out the ‘s’ longer than necessary.

You roll your eyes, “Fine! It was… fine. We met up for lunch at this old diner we used to go to, we talked… Mama had me invite him over for dinner, and he brought flowers for her” you say pointedly, noticing the gleam in her eyes. “It went well, all things considered. Daddy did have some things to say, he still hasn’t quite forgiven him for what he did, but Elvis was a real gentleman the whole time. He actually went back to California today, filming somethin’ for TV, but he said he wants to keep in touch.”

“That’s great, honey!” Annie squeals, “I’m glad y’all are doin’ well.”

You give a weak smile in return. “Yeah, he said he’s gonna call every day, but…”

“Oh…” Annie’s eyes soften in understanding, recalling what you had told her about your relationship before. “Y/N, I know it might be scary, but what if it’s different this time? What if he actually keeps his promise? He’s said he wants to work on trust with you again, right? This is the perfect opportunity for him to prove to you that he’s worth trusting. And if he doesn’t,” she adds in a lighter tone, “I’ll fly out to California and sock him right in his pretty face myself.”

“I know you will,” you laugh, “but you’re right, I’ll—“

You’re cut off as the phone rings, and you lock eyes with Annie. It can’t be him already, can it? No, it’s probably your parents calling to make sure you made it home safely, you reason as you move to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N,” the heavy drawl surprises you, and you nearly miss what Elvis says next, “I’m glad I caught you, I was callin’ a bit ago and got quite a tellin’ off from Annie sayin’ that you weren’t there yet.”

At that you turn to glare at Annie, who only gives you a smug, mischievous smirk in return.

“Yeah, I just got in maybe twenty minutes ago,” you reply, the shock slowly fading into a kind of warmth as his voice washes over you.

“How was the drive?”

“Long,” you say with a laugh, “I’m glad to be home now. How’s California?”

“‘S alright,” he replies, “I just got back from finalizing some stuff with Steve for filming tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” you recall your conversation from a few days ago, “The Christmas special, right? Or,” you correct yourself, “the not-entirely-Christmas special.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, “I’m actually pretty excited about it.”

“That’s good,” you smile, “I hope everything goes well.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says sincerely. “But anyway, enough about me. How are you?”

“Well, Annie had one of her famous grilled cheeses waiting for me when I got here so I’d say we’re off to a pretty good start. Tomorrow’s an inventory day at work, though, not nearly as exciting as filming a special for NBC.”

He sucks in a breath in sympathy, “I remember you never liked those days. Good luck with that,” he says, “and I’ll tell ya what: I’ll make sure to tell you all about the boring parts of filming so ya don’t get too jealous, how ‘bout that?” he teases

“Sounds perfect,” you laugh.

You don’t even notice the time flying by as the conversation continues, the two of you talking about everything and nothing, and you fall into a rhythm of talking for hours every night. Slowly, the nagging fear you feel that today’s the day he won’t call starts to fade, and you look forward to your nightly chats where you fill him in on any interesting customers and he tells you about the goofs he made that day during filming.

“I’m not kiddin’, I legitimately forgot the words!” he laughs.

Your only reply is to laugh even harder at the image of him surrounded by cameras forgetting the words to Heartbreak Hotel.

“Alright, come on, it ain’t that funny,” he says in a mock-hurt tone.

“Oh, I promise it is,” you say, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, “I might need you to send me a copy or whatever of these goofs, I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”

“I’ll see if I can arrange that for ya…” he replies, his voice trailing off as he seemingly turns away from the receiver for some reason.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just someone at the door,” he assures you, “Gimme one second.”

There’s some shuffling as he makes his way to the door, and your surprise at the thought of him carrying the phone with him across the room turns into a sinking feeling in your stomach as you hear the squeak of a door open and the muffled sounds of a woman’s voice. Your heart sinks as the memory of that day on his tour starts to play again in your mind, a cacophony of not again, I knew this would happen, I shouldn’t have trusted him filling your ears.

“-N? Y/N, you there?” You slowly blink back to reality as Elvis calls your name over the receiver, “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply hesitantly as he dives into an explanation about some crazy fan sneaking past security to his room. He pauses, picking up on the uncertainty in your voice.

“Y/N… you can talk to me, you know that, right? What’s wrong?” he says softly, and he sounds so genuine you want to cry.

“It’s… it’s silly…” you reply, embarrassed at the thought of telling him that that memory from all this years ago still haunts you.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d really like to know if I can help,” he replies patiently.

You sigh, and launch into an explanation of that night back in ‘55. “You just hung up on me, and the last thing I heard was some woman’s voice, and I didn’t realize how much that hurt me until I started worrying about who you were with whenever you were gone for a long time.” You explain softly, nervously fiddling with the phone cord.

“So just now, when you heard that girl at my door…” he sighs, realization dawning on him, “that brought all that back, didn’t it? I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, and the sincerity of his words does bring tears to your eyes this time.

“I’m alright, I promise,” you reassure him, “surprised you turned her down,” you tease, wanting to move on.

“I don’t do that kinda thing anymore,” he laughs, picking up on your attempt to move to another topic, “besides, why would I stop to talk to some stranger who thinks they know everything about me when I could talk to you?”

Your heart flutters at the compliment, and you hope he can’t tell how much you’re blushing over the phone, “Aw, you’re sweet.”

There’s a moment of silence; not an awkward one, but comfortable, like the two of you don’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s company, even if it’s just on the phone. The moment is cut short, however, as Elvis speaks up again.

“I was thinkin’— and you’re free to say no, of course— well, Steve’s organizing this screening of the special before it airs. Right now it’s just Steve, Bones, Dad, Jerry, and me, but I’d like you to be there, too. Maybe get an opinion from someone who’s not family or paid to be nice to me.” He jokes.

“I’d love to,” you reply, “I’ll have to see if I can get off work, but if I can I’ll absolutely be there. And don’t worry, I’ll be brutally honest about the whole thing,” you add teasingly.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He laughs, “I’ll call once Steve has the day arranged and hopefully you can make it.”

The date Steve apparently figures out is November 19, two weeks before the special is actually set to air. Elvis relays to you that he’s arranged to do the screening at Graceland, and luckily you manage to convince your boss to give you both that day and the following day off for the long drive. Your parents are delighted to see you, of course, and you just barely miss the knowing smile on your mother’s face as you gush about how well your friendship with Elvis is going. Your father has warmed up to him the slightest bit, it seems, since your visit back in June, if the fact that he doesn’t scowl at every mention of Elvis’s name is any indication.

You take a deep breath as you pull up to Graceland. You force down the surfacing memories from the last time you were here, when Elvis officially put his career before you. Clean. Slate. you forcefully remind yourself as you step up to the front door.

The door swings open barely half a second after you ring the doorbell, and you find Elvis standing there, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment where the two of you simply stare at each other before he blinks, as if coming back to his senses, and steps aside to let you in. “Come on in, lemme introduce you to everybody,” he says, leading you to a room with not one, not two, but three TVs mounted into the wall, as one of his household staff comes to take your coat. 4 spaces on the immense couch taking up most of the space in the room are taken, one by his father and three others by people you don’t recognize. “This is Jerry, my manager,” Elvis says, gesturing to a man in a brown suit who looked to be in his late-20s with shaggy blondish hair, “and Steve and Bones, the masterminds behind this whole thing,” he introduces the two men sitting beside Jerry with a smile, one with neat brown hair and an ascot tied around his neck, the other with dark curly hair and round glasses. The three men give you various waves and smiles.

“And of course you know my dad,” Elvis finishes, gesturing to where he’s sitting next to Bones.

“Of course, hi Mr. Presley,” you say with a smile, coming over to shake his hand.

“Good to see you again, Y/N, how’ve ya been?” he asks as you take a seat next to him.

You’re hyperaware of Elvis sitting next to you as you make small talk with everyone, carefully leaning so that there’s a bit of distance between the two of you. As the screening begins, your attention is torn between the performance onscreen and real-life Elvis making jokes in your ear about “this is actually the take right after that goof I told you about—“ Your senses are full of him: the scent of his cologne, his arm brushing against yours, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he whispers to you, and it takes more and more of your energy to actually focus on the TVs in front of you.

About half an hour into the special, you excuse yourself and wander out to the hall, needing a break from the proximity. You don’t realize Elvis followed you out until his hand gently wraps around your wrist, making you jump.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright” he explains, releasing you.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “just… needed a break.”

“It was that bad?” he jokes, “Damn, I’ll have to let Steve know.”

You shake your head, “No, no, it’s not that, it’s…” You hesitate, unsure if you should say what the real reason is. Your friendship is going so well, you’re not sure how he’ll react if you admit that your feelings for him were back in full force, that in truth they never really left.

“What is it?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, deciding it’s now or never.

“I’m in love with you. I never really stopped being in love with you, if I’m being honest. But being with you these past few months, being your friend again… I’ve loved it. I’ve loved talking with you on the phone for hours about everything and nothing, seeing you talk with my parents like nothing’s changed, and I… I wanna try again. For real this time.” You bite your lip, nervously gauging his reaction.

“You— you mean that?” Elvis asks softly, eyes wide.

“Yes,” you reply, “I mean it.”

“Y/N, I’d… I’d love that. I promise,” he says sincerely, “I’ll do it right this time. I’ll be the man you deserve.” He steps closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. “Can I—“ his eyes flick from looking into yours down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you right now.” he breathes.

You nod your consent, and he swoops down to capture your lips with his, one hand cupping your cheek while the other grips your waist, pulling you close. Your arms wind around his neck up into his hair, mussing the carefully styled locks as you savor the feeling of his lips velvet-soft against yours. He walks you backward until you’re pressed against the wall, his lips never leaving yours as his body presses against you. Eventually the need for air gets the better of you, and he reluctantly pulls away, keeping his forehead and nose pressed to yours as if he can’t bear to be any farther away. His blue eyes lock with yours as you catch your breath.

“I missed you so much,” he breathes, lips brushing against yours, and the amount of love clear in those 5 little words brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you, too,” you reply softly, a smile spreading across your face.

The two of you stay like that for a while, pressed against the wall of the hallway, before Elvis mumbles “As much as I’d love to just stay here with you forever, we should probably get back before they notice we’re gone.”

“Oh, right,” you laugh sheepishly as you remember the reason you were there in the first place.

The two of you slip back into the TV room, your absence seemingly having gone unnoticed, and assume the spaces you had occupied before you left, with one small difference: your hand is intertwined with his throughout the rest of the screening.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #elvis (2022) #elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis baz luhrmann #my writing #ickkspty #i can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they’re you

[lol-jackles]

I understand producers wanting a no risk lead and Jared earned that credibility and reputation. I don’t disagree with everything you said about Jared.

But I’m still surprised that Jensen didn’t earn the same reputation being co-lead and surprised he has not been given the opportunity to lead or co- lead again on another show. He seemed to have built a strong reputation with directors and producers and execs in the industry so shouldn’t he be on that same short list? I just don’t get what jensen is missing that jared or max theriot, Tom Ellis or Justin Hartley seems to have. What is that “x” factor?

The work he did on Smallville, Spn, Big Sky and The Boys, why didn’t that earn him points to have studio execs ensure he stays employed and part of a show?

Even in an industry that 97% are unemployed, Jensen seems to be a standout actor that gets constantly overlooked. Why?

Jensen was going to be a lead in Greg Bertlanti's unnamed project, but then Zaslav happened. But you ask a very good question on why the networks' bean counters don't have him on a Short List.

First, my wild guess is while Jensen's scene stealing talent improves the episode he's in, it's not the same as having screen presence to create a story, which is a must for lead actors to carry a show. For example, Jared's two-minute screentime in "The End" was not scene stealing, he became Lucifer for the sake of the story and left a memorable impact on the viewers' impression.

Think of every time spin-offs were created to capitalize on the scene stealers’ popularity, only for the scene stealers “special-ness” to evaporate into the ether when they have to carry the show by themselves.  Rebel Wilson had her own tv show called Super Fun Night. but it failed because fans expected to see the whacky side kick persona, but instead got a Rebel Wilson playing a normal woman who is sometimes socially awkward.

Second, Jensen has a bit of a branding problem.  If an actor doesn't understand what their brand is, then how do you expect casting directors to see it as well?  

Actors make the mistake of trying to please every customer by changing who they are and not understanding that getting hired starts with choosing a brand for themselves and sticking to it.  Say you own an Italian restaurant and I come in and say, “Oh, gosh! You know what? I want Mexican food.” And then you say, Okay, we’re cooking Mexican food now.”   This is what a lot of actors do.

I used to joke that Jensen was like an active from the show The Dollhouse. Actives are neutral human husks until they're downloaded a personality to carry out a specific mission.  You don't know what the true nature of an active unless you're willing to watch several episodes to look for clue crumbs to their innate personalities.  

I tell young aspiring actors on how to discover their brand by pretending to write a profile for an online dating site.  People usually don't write descriptive sentences but use adjectives: funny, athletic, intense, quirky, great smile, etc.  To help them along, ask their trusted friends and family members to make a list of 5 qualities that pop into their heads.  Then use the impression that appear over and over again because now you know that is you, your essence.

Too many times actors wait for an agent or manager to show up and tell them who they are. Or they ask me, “what do you think I am?". Actors have to decide for themselves and figure out their acting “singularity”  -- that exclusive combination of attitudes and behaviors that make them an original even when they're typecasted. Some people describe Jensen as a version of Dean-lite, but that doesn't make Jensen an original then.

Third, Jensen is not a natural born-leader. Most of us aren't, but like acting, you can constantly work on the craft. Leaders are supposed to protect their team, but Jensen was still soft-bashing Jessica Alba twenty years later. I don't care if Jessicca was a bitch, a real man is not supposed to betray a woman’s confidence. He can still talk about the difficulties of working with Jessica while respecting the position she was in and up against. In contrast, Jared immediately defended his female co-stars when it was popular to dunk of them: the Olsen twins, Paris Hilton, and Snookie.

#jensen ackles

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

for the domestic/relationship situation prompts: geraskier + 19? 🥺

19. Bingeing an entire season of trashy reality show in one sitting

“I don’t understand.” Geralt squints at the TV, where the first episode of the new season of Surviving Love is playing.

“What’s there not to understand?” Jaskier asks. “It’s sixteen beautiful people trapped together, trying to survive while also banging each other’s brains out in the hopes of finding their one true love. The whole idea is that they pair off as soon as possible and the couples all compete to see who can survive the longest on a desert island.”

“Island can’t be that deserted if there’s a camera crew following them around.” Geralt arches his eyebrow as a pretty redhead on the TV has a breakdown about needing to eat bugs for protein.

“You just need to suspend your disbelief for eight episodes or so.” Jaskier winces sympathetically. If he had to choose between starving and eating bugs, he’s honestly not sure which one he would choose.

For several moments, Geralt refrains from commentary, though his left eyebrow keeps twitching, like it often does when Jaskier is doing something that perplexes him so much that he finds himself beyond words. It’s one of Jaskier’s favorite expressions, not that he’s ever going to tell his boyfriend that. They both had a rough week—Geralt got stiffed on a big contract and Jaskier had to have not one, but two conversations with Valdo Marx—so they’re both in need of some TLC.

“Oh, good for her,” Jaskier says as the redhead from the bug breakdown begins making out with an attractive blond man. “She bagged the park ranger. He can probably catch something better than bugs for dinner.”

“Hm.” Geralt looks unimpressed.

Jaskier snuggles closer against his boyfriend’s side. “You know, I auditioned for this show years ago.”

That earns him an incredulous look. “You?”

“Don’t give me that look! It was before Pris and I made our first album. I needed a way to get our name out there.”

“You wouldn’t have survived a week.”

Jaskier drew back, gaping in outrage. “Excuse me?”

“Eight weeks without a shower and a toothbrush? Remember how much you whined when you followed me on that three day forktail hunt?”

“I was the picture of stoicism!”

Geralt is wearing that infuriating little half-smirk he wears whenever he thinks he’s being witty and clever, the fucker. “You were very stoic when you told me to leave you there to die when you stepped in forktail shit.”

“I was traumatized.” Jaskier whacks him lightly on the chest. On the screen, the redhead is tussling with another woman, screaming about betrayal. “And now we’ve missed something important! Go back!”

Geralt groans, but picks up the remote control.

***

Eight episodes later, the living room is dark and strewn with empty takeout containers as the theme music for Surviving Love plays from the screen.

“That was bullshit,” Geralt says.

Jaskier is actually a little surprised. He never really expected Geralt to like the show, but his boyfriend did sit through eight hours of it without much complaint after the first episode.

“Simon and Gretta should have won.” Moodily, Geralt takes a sip of his beer.

Jaskier blinks at him. “What?”

“The whole point is working together, right? Heidi and Jan didn’t really work together; she did all the work while he went off and played grab ass with Elin.

“Yeah.” Jaskier shakes his head, disappointed. “I don’t see them making it past the finale.”

“None of these couples are making it past the finale.”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier snuggles closer, propping his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. “If you can survive eight weeks together without showers or toothbrushes, you can survive anything.”

“Hm.” Geralt presses a kiss to his temple. “We could try it. Put our relationship to the test.”

“Don’t even think about it. I’ve cleaned harpy bites on your ass and picked kikimore intestines out of your hair and that was before we started dating. Our love has been proven thoroughly.”

“And I’ve been to your concerts.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Geralt turns off the TV. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I can see why it’s your favorite show.”

They sit in the darkness of their living room for a moment.

“You know, that was season sixteen,” Jaskier finally says. “There are fifteen other seasons we could go back and watch.”

Geralt turns the TV back on without hesitation. “Hm. If you want to.”

Jaskier grins as he pulls the blanket more securely around him. “You know, we could pretend not to know each other and audition for season seventeen. We would kill.”

“No.”

“Think of all the kitty treats we could buy Roach.”

Geralt pauses, considering. “What makes you think I’d pair up with you?”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! You knave!”

“What?” His boyfriend shrugs, looking very pleased with himself. “Roach only deserves the best treats. Gotta pair with someone who has a chance of winning.”

Jaskier splutters, outraged beyond words.

“Going to go get more ice cream,” Geralt rises to his feet.

Jaskier stares after him. “Fine! But we are having this conversation when you get back, mister!” He sulks for about thirty seconds before calling, “Can you bring me some ice cream?”

“Already got out the mint chocolate chip.”

“You’re the best. I love you so much that I’ll share the prize money when me and my partner on Surviving Love beat you and your harlot by a mile.”

In the decade they’ve known each other, Jaskier has never heard Geralt laugh so hard. He would be more offended, if he weren’t too busy laughing too.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #prompt fills #ghost's writing

[whatsnewalycat]

One thing I think is interesting about Javier Peña’s characterization is his reckless tunnel vision.

It’s like when he gets close to the thing he wants, nothing else fucking matters, not procedures, or laws, or safety, NOTHING. He participated in highly unethical practices to get his guy(s). Broadly speaking, there’s intercepted phone calls, condoning torture, etc etc, but also….

There’s that instance where they’re waiting for the ok to raid a building bc Escobar is supposed to show up there (if I remember correctly), and he doesn’t, so everyone’s like ‘ah damn ok’ and thIS MOTHERFUCKER SAYS FUCK THIS AND STARTS MURDERING PEOPLE. Like, that’s fucking insane, right?

*gestures vaguely at Los Pepes*

Requested Helena get big information at the Escobar party, holding US citizenship over her head, which results in her being viciously assaulted. This woman will never be the same. To his credit, he is obviously remorseful. But STILL.

Murdering a village with SWAT to get his white girl bargaining chip back

The one I think about all the time is either in the season 3 finale or right before, where he gets to OK to get Jorge and his family to the US and get them citizenship, and LIES ABOUT IT!!!!! He tells his agents that Jorge needs to get them Miguel before they’ll be taken out of Colombia. This is, and I can’t stress this enough, fucking insane. Jorge put his family’s lives on the line to provide the DEA with enough information to get out of the cartel—WHICH HE DOES!!!!—and Peña is deadass like “mmm no but I want to be sure I have Miguel first, just in case” and fucking lies to everyone, which almost results in another family being murdered.

When they’re trying to break through the shower wall to get Miguel Rodriguez, and there’s a dude there telling them they have to stop because they’re breaking the law, I swear to god he almost tells that guy to fuck off, but he does tell Van Ness to stop. You can tell it took Herculean effort for him to do this. It makes him SO. UPSET.

That’s all I can think of right now. But it is egregious. That being said, I love morally gray fictional character Javier Peña with all my heart, even though his actions in this TV series were fucking W I L D.

#fr he and Fox Mulder have the same kind of maniac brain worm and I love that for them #javier peña #narcos #HOT TAKES

[insertmesoftly]

Reasons To Keep You Here (Yuri x AFAB Immigrant Reader) Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You have been having a wonderful time reconnecting with your brothers nearly every week since the incident. Yuri would mostly keep to himself during these visits, something you knew was for the better with how pushy Kris was. It’s not the best idea to have the two hotheads begin to argue again. But…

With your new recognition came new responsibilities, and new meetings you had to attend with other publishers. You apologized to Yuri as you got ready, begging him to please take in and take care of the boys when they got to your apartment.

‘I’ll come straight home after the meeting! It won’t… be long I hope, damnit!’ You stubbed your foot while moving to get something. Yuri catches you as you stumbled from the pain, letting you reorient yourself with his hand still on your shoulder as he groans.

‘Uuugh. Okay. I’ll let them in and tell them to go to their room.’

You put your foot back down gently, still wincing, but grateful it wasn’t that bad.

‘Thanks, Yuri.’ Without thinking, you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and looked at him, giving it a pat.

‘I can count on you.’

Yuri gave your shoulder a squeeze and bonked your head with his slightly. ‘Yeah yeah! Don’t make me give you another headbutt and leave already!’

You laughed and clutched your forehead at the threat. ‘Never again!’ You moved away and got your bag. ‘Alright. Goodbye!’

‘… bye.’

It was half an hour before the kids were dropped off. Your mom was very eager, seeing Yuri be the one opening the door, to begin talking his ear off and ask questions about you. He closed the door as soon as your brothers came inside.

‘Alright, twerps.’ Both boys looked up at him. Yuri gave off the aura of a general ordering his cadets.

‘Y/N is out of the house right now for something work-related. You’re not allowed to make a mess, put up a fuss, or ask me questions. Just… go to your room and do whatever until she’s back.’

He waved them off, dismissing them, but predictably, Kris wasn’t having none of it.

‘When is Y/N coming back?’

‘…. I don’t know.’

‘What’s her work?’

‘…. I can’t tell you.’

‘Sounds like you don’t know that either.’

‘I know her work! It’s just secret.’

‘Yeah sure.’ Kris shook his head, imitating his dad when he didn’t like someone. ‘I bet you don’t know anything about her. Like her favorite color, or her favorite ice cream flavor-‘

Yuri answered both questions immediately. He smirked at Kris’s face. Kris began listing other stuff, all of which, Yuri was getting right. He had never asked you for any of your preferences… but he already knew. His observation skills and previous background check on you was thorough.

Kris stomped his feet, stopping himself from going any further. ‘Alright! Sure! You may know stuff about Y/N but that doesn't excuse how FAKE you feel!’

Yuri felt his interrogator senses trigger. Kris wasn’t just trying to annoy him, Yuri was being interrogated. He was trying to find a fault in him.

‘What do you mean fake? I haven’t lied to you!’ That he knew of.

Kris was adamant in his response. ‘It’s this whole marriage! It doesn’t feel real! You two don’t ACT like you’re married’

Yuri’s eyebrows raised, his annoyance hit a peak. ‘And how exactly are we supposed to act? Are you an expert now shrimp? How many girls have you married?’

Kris got flustered and looked away from Yuri, clasping his arms to his chest. ‘W-Well, I haven’t met the right girl yet! But I know from TV how you’re supposed to be!’

Kris got serious, but his face stayed red. ‘W-When you love someone… you gotta show them off!!! Be all lovey dovey and supporting and… gross! That’s how everyone knows you’re in love, right? Mom and dad do it all wrong… I just don’t want Y/N to be like….’

He stopped himself, now feeling shyer. This got too real. He backed off and waved his arms around. ‘ANYWAYS- That’s how I’LL do it! I’ll be so in love with my wife! I’ll make her the happiest woman in the world!’

Yuri snickered, taking the kid’s words too seriously. ‘Of course you’d believe everything on TV. You don’t know any better. Couples can love each other in… many different ways.’ Yuri gave a mild shrug. ‘Y/N and I are just different.’

‘So… you do love her?’

Out of the blue came Charles’s little voice. Yuri had forgotten about him. His eyes turned wide at his mistake, his face quickly became enflamed from the sudden attack. It didn’t help that the boys were staring at him expectantly. Yuri looked away and grumbled a response.

‘…. I married her, didn’t I?’

Kris became indignant. ‘BAH, that’s not good enough! You’re just like my dad!  If you can’t even say it what kind of man are you?’

‘I WILL NOT BE LECTURED BY A 7 YEAR OLD!’

‘Y/N DESERVES BETTER, YOU’RE SO FULL OF IT!’

‘YOU-‘

‘I think…,’ once again, Charles decided to speak up, making the two others stop. ‘I think that… that’s ok, Kris. Y/N also has a hard time saying it…’

Charles paused to nervously touch his wrists.

‘Maybe… maybe it really is more complicated than we thought. Maybe love can come after marriage? Maybe it changes. I don’t know but… I’m just glad she’s happy.’

Charles stopped fidgeting and gazed up at Yuri. He gave him a sincere smile.

‘Thank you for marrying her. Thank you for helping her. I’m grateful… that you are our brother.’

Yuri was caught off-guard.  He could only give back a nod, still staring as Charles took Kris by his hand.

‘You need to leave them alone, Kris.’

‘WHAT?! Just because he helped Y/N meet with us-‘

‘Stop it! Shh! No more. Come on.’

Charles dragged his brother to their guest bedroom and closed the door. Yuri was left alone in the living room.

…. You were definitely going to be late today, he realized. With the changes happening in your work, you would probably have to do a lot at the office today.

Yuri sighed and went for your apron. He decided… he could make some snacks for the boys for now.

He gave in to hazy thoughts as he began trying to recreate something Loid had made that looked simple. The idea of you being unable to tell your brothers that you love him… crept as he was cutting celery.

Neither of you loved the other.

That was that, right? That was normal and ok. You didn’t get married because you WANTED to. It was convenience. But even then-

You at least like him, right? You were both friends now! Solidified friendship. So why was it so hard for you to pretend to be in love when your marriage wasn’t in question like with his Boss? Why were you telling your brothers stuff like that? Is it really such a stretch to go from ‘like’ to ‘love’ as a little white lie?

He didn’t realize he had cut the celery too finely until he looked down.

Ah well.

He put it on a bowl and, after much debate, decided peanut sauce was what Loid had used for his snacks with Anya. He dribbled raisins on everything to finish it and stared proudly at his work. He was just as good as Loid. As a man AND as a husband.

… your siblings begged to differ. They cried to you when you came back, claiming that Yuri was trying to poison them. Yuri had eaten all the evidence, and yelled back that they were lying, peanut sauce still on his chin.

You were home.

~

A few days later, you dragged your feet as you came home after yet another meeting in a series of horrid, pointless meetings. You slumped on the couch and hid your face with a pillow.

You thought things were finally going well. You thought you’d finally cemented your place in the paper! But…

After your success with the polling… the ones in charge have decided to keep your comic. With a new artist taking over.

The way they saw it, if they were going to pay you an average salary, they might as well be paying a man. It’s not like you needed the money anymore.

You were married. You’d be taken care of.

So they told you, plain and simply, without room for argument, that you would be having an understudy come by and learn your tricks.

You felt… numb. All your passion, your years of building your story, your characters, your art. It came down to just this.

You were never good enough to keep around. You weren’t a man.

You were so ANGRY. You cried and stayed on the couch until Yuri came home. He lugged bags from a restaurant, you had both agreed on him bringing food that day. Seeing you as you were, he was quick to ask you what was wrong. He immediately put down the bags on your living room table and knelt down to take the pillow from your face. His concerned, piercing eyes met your red ones.

You explained the situation and he was completely on your side with rage. Who the fucking hell did these assholes think they were? After YOU brought them new readers. After YOU worked so hard for so little. They were going to give that to someone else?

Yuri shook his head and got up.

‘I’m not allowing THAT.’

Your mourning was put on hold as his response brought you back to the letter your step-father had sent you. Yuri’s influence on others. You sat up immediately and grabbed onto his sleeve.

‘Wait- No- Stop!’

Yuri paused as he looked at you, questioning.

‘I don’t want you… to have to fix this. You’ve already done a lot… it’s not right to keep asking for your help.’ You got up and rubbed your raw eyes. You tried looking at him with conviction.

‘It’s… alright. Don’t pull any strings. This isn’t your responsibility.’

Yuri was aghast at your attitude.

‘So you’re just going to let them win?’

‘No.’ You held his sleeve a little tighter before letting go. You buried your fingers in your hair in thought.

‘I’ll come up with something… I won’t let them get rid of me that easily.’

You tried smiling at Yuri. He wasn’t sure of what you could do… but it wasn’t in his place to interfere further. Still…. It was so FRUSTRATING.

He placed a hand on your head and rubbed it hard. ‘Alright. I’ll leave it to you, but damn it… don’t go letting your pride win. If I can help, just use me! Don’t forget, the comic… is important to me too.’

He let go of you and moved to set up the kitchen for your dinner. You felt reinvigorated. You had to come up with a plan…

~

Your replacement came the next few days and, though you tried being civil at first… the young man was not giving you any respect or paying your advice any mind.

Not that you were trying too hard to get him to listen… but it still left you feeling completely dumbfounded by his attitude and insistence that his way of doing things would be better. He believed himself better than you. He would leave his mark and move this comic to an elevated status.

You never argued back and simply gave your world-renowned strained smile. His ideas were stupid. His style, sloppy. You hated everything he created, and you knew the public would too. This was too easy.

~

It was a mess.

His strips were not getting the reception they should have. The things he thought he could get away with… were coming up to bite him in the ass.

His art style changes were seen as tacky. His out-of-character moments were like highlighters that something was wrong. Children did not like this. Parents of children in love with the series were not for this either.

Yuri’s coworker was one such parent.

‘Have you SEEN what they did to the imaginary friend this week?’ The man slapped down his newspaper on the table, disgruntled.

‘They made her forget everything she learned about being a good friend! Now she’s just acting like a jerk again, and why? They haven’t even picked up on the father’s secret gift yet! It’s like the creator forgot everything. It’s only disappointing my Camila more and more.’

Yuri’s eye twitched as he recalled you telling him that your replacement thought that plotline was dumb, so he cut it. After all the suspense you had built…. Yuri crumpled his own paper.

‘… I’m sure it’s not the creator’s fault.’

‘Pardon?’

The coworker looked at Yuri with raised eyebrows. How could it not be? Yuri sighed and lowered his head.

‘I just mean…. Maybe it’s the bosses of the creator pushing them around to change things.’ Yuri twisted his hand through his hair. ‘Think of it like when we censor the news. Comic strip companies sometimes do the same with their creators.’

The coworker blinked a few times before letting out a gruff sound. ‘Well that’s STUPID. Why change something that was already good?’

Yuri nodded. He was wondering what your plan was again. So far, you had just been obediently looking over the jerk that was supposed to replace you. It grated on his nerves… but he promised you not to meddle. Still…

‘You should write a letter to the paper with your grievances. They need to know, if you want them to bring back the quality of the comic.’

Yuri watched his coworker’s face turn thoughtful, then serious. ‘That’s a good idea… I’ll do it with my daughter when I get back home.’ The coworker let out a smile and looked Yuri in the eye. ‘I take it you have already sent your own?’

Yuri thought about the many, many complaints he had stacked and sent directly to the publisher’s mailbox. He smiled, a threat evident in his voice.

‘I’m doing my part.’

‘HAHAHAHA!’ The coworker burst in laughter, shaking the table. ‘You really love these comics… it’s cute that you have this childish hobby, Yuri.’

The younger man became embarrassed at being called childish. He turned away with a huff.

‘I’m allowed to have my interests…’

‘Yeah, nothing wrong with it. I’m glad to be able to connect with you over it! You’re usually very…’ The coworker thought through his word choice. ‘Peculiar with your conversation topics. It’s hard to be able to find common ground with you sometimes, heh. But this is nice!’

Yuri’s eyebrows knit together with curiosity over what the man meant. Was something wrong with him before? He considered the past, and what he would talk about with coworkers.

…. Just work, polite small talk and….

Ah. Yor. The very reason he had joined the Secret Police.

Yuri thought through his friends. He didn’t have many… and the ones he did were through having mutual interest in obscure things. He had yet to make any friends in his new department with the Secret Police… and now he did. He smiled, realizing it was thanks to you.

‘Yeah… this is nice.’

~

Four weeks and four awful strips later, you were supposed to be fired on the fifth one. However, the paper came on the same day with a secret news article from another department of the paper. The journalism one.

‘Creator of Beloved Comic Strip Gets Replaced.’

The scoop of the month.

In between your visits to the publishers, you also made trips to a reporter you’ve known for a while. They usually always complained about their designated ‘small stories’ while everyone else outshone them with the bigger news. You told them this could stir up something in the company… so they agreed to write it.

To write everything about it.

They published your name, gender, and your struggle; how underpaid you were compared to your coworkers, the lack of respect, the plans your replacement had to derail your characters. All of your grievances in one neat article. If you were going to be fired, you could afford to be vocal about it. One last bang.

Yuri didn’t find out about it until he went to work that Sunday. You had been excited all morning to see his reaction, but the man was late and simply sped by you handing him the paper. He had a busy day of going from point A to point B that day, moving one way and another trying to catch more news on a threat against an important figure. He stumbled back to work to change, exhausted and frustrated by his lack of information.

A few of his coworkers turned to look at him as he entered. The one he’d read the paper with was sitting expectantly with the paper in his hand.

‘SO! WE FINALLY KNOW WHY YURI GOT INTERESTED IN THE SUNDAY STRIPS, EH?’

‘…. What do you mean?’

He’s handed the article with everything on it. Zeroing in on your name, he realizes what you’ve done. He feels deaf as the man and others begin loudly teasing Yuri about keeping it a secret. He changed quickly and left them as they hollered at his get-away. When he got home, you were cooking dinner. He made you put down the knife you held before shaking you by your shoulders with exasperation, pride, and wonder.

What had you done? You held his hands and reassured him that this was your way of getting the last word. You wanted to cause a splash! Yuri was at his wit’s end with befuddlement on how to react. Now everyone knew you were a woman. Now everyone knew your name! He groaned and found himself giving you a hug. It was unexpected… but not unwelcome.

‘Ah- Yuri?’

‘GOD, YOU ARE TOO MUCH SOMETIMES!’

‘What do you mean?! I handled this well! I thought everything through!’

‘Yeah but-‘

He let go of you and looked at you. You were so innocent sometimes. What if someone stalked you? What if you got lash back for this by your publishers? You looked back with confusion, he looked so worried. You held his cheek with a hand.

‘It’s okay. I know what I got myself into. This was my choice.’

 … once again, Yuri had to respect that. He closed his eyes and leaned a bit into your hand with a boise from the back of his throat.

‘FINE! Okay.’ He let you go and turned away, crossing his arms.

‘But if any trouble comes from this, I’m stepping in. This can get SERIOUS, Y/N. I’m not letting your pride keep me from helping.’

You smile at his pout, and don’t think as you reach out to continue hugging him from behind.

‘I can live with that… Thank you, Yuri.’

Yuri didn’t turn around, but he reached an arm behind him to touch your head. Neither of you realized just how comfortable you have gotten with physical affection.

~

The ramifications of you releasing your identity unfolded the following week.

The comic strip department came under fire from all sides. Unhappy readers sent multiple letters over the change in creators, clamoring to get you back, wondering why it mattered that you were a woman. You were a creator of something well-liked; the traditionalists reasoned that it’s not like you overstepped any social norms by telling a story. A rare few voiced you being an inspiration for their little girls to try drawing their own comics.

Everyone wanted you back.

The heads overlooking the paper talked to your bosses about you. An agreement was made.

Bring you back or else.

With a new contract that gave you everything you wanted and more (a PROPER raise! Not just what they were giving their normal male employees anymore!), you were back in the team.

You did it.

~

At the news that you were coming back to create the strips, Yuri’s work buzzed with comments about Yuri and his wife. They recalled how he used to be with them; polite but closed off. Uninterested in anything that wasn’t work or his sister.

Now he got to walk around the office with red cheeks, always dragged to one group or another to be egged on about his wife. Everyone wanted to know more about you. Yuri didn’t comply; he was too much of a flustered mess. He’d walk away and insist on everyone focusing on their work.

He overhears his coworkers at one point mention how this was the most they’ve ever seen Yuri invested in someone other than his sister.

‘Remember how much he’d insist he’d be single forever? Look at him now!’

‘Heh… that’s love.’ They laugh.

‘I’m so jealous of the bastard.’

Yuri decides to ignore this… but the comparison creeps into the back of his mind. You? On the same level as Yor?

How could you ever be?

~

After more digging on the threat to an important figure, Yuri was sent to a city far from yours to talk to other informants. It was a week of intensive, infuriating work full of dead ends. But at least he was finally coming home.

When talking to you over the phone, he had made an estimate that he would probably be back in the evening of the next day. It's 4am when he's finally at the door. Yuri knows you're probably asleep, and for some weird reason (that he can only chalk up to it having been his routine in the months prior)... he's feeling grumpy that he won't get to hear you welcome him home as you always do.

He was wrong.

'Yuri!'

'W-What?!'

You're right in front of him. Eyebags on full display, messy hair, pajamas, and a bit of an uneven wobble as you're standing. Yuri glances behind you and sees a now empty pot of coffee.

'You stayed up...'

'Yeah! I'm not doing anything tomorrow anyways. And...

I really wanted to see you.'

Maybe it's because you were sleepy and were coming off a caffeine high but...

... that last part was not something you had wanted to say out loud. You realized it too late, a hand over your mouth immediately showing highlighting mistake.

'AH! I MEAN- It was just too quiet here sometimes and- And I’d end up cooking too much food and!!! FOR WHATEVER REASON YOR HAS UM. BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH WORK AND LOID HAS BEEN TAKING CARE OF ANYA SO-!'

So, you had been lonely.

After living alone for so long...

You had gotten used to company. Without Yuri... your apartment felt so empty.

Your face was burning up. Yuri hadn't said a single thing. You felt like you'd fucked up. You tried doing damage control.

 'Sorry... I didn't mean-.......?'

As you tried to look up at him, he placed a hand on your head and held it forcefully to stay down. What?

'????? Yuri????'

'Shut up. You're loopy.'

You felt his hand brush your hair a bit, getting lighter, almost like a pat, before it switched to be on your neck and he turned you around.

'Alright. You saw me! Seriously, you're like a dog! Go to sleep already, idiot!'

He was pushing you to your bedroom, fast. You tried fighting it.

'HEY! I'M NOT READY TO PASS OUT YET! I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU ABOUT YOUR TRIP! TELL YOU ABOUT SOME YOR THEORIES I MADE! YOU KNOW, YOU REALLY NEED TO BE LOOKING INTO HER WORK! THEY KEPT KEEPING HER ALL NIGHT THREE DAYS STRAIGHT-!'

This piqued Yuri's attention a bit. But not enough to stop. He pushed you into your room roughly.

'We can talk tomorrow! I have the day off!'

'REALLY?! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT, JERK!'

Indignant, you turned around as quick as you could. Your door was already almost closed, but you did catch a glimpse of him. You saw  corner of his mouth was moving up as he taunted you. His grin was mischievous, but his eyes were soft…

'I don't have to tell you EVERYTHING.'

The door closed. Now you both had to go to sleep but...

Neither of you were really successful in that endeavor.

You tossed and turned, the image of his expression firmly planted in your mind. Your heart raced from it. You’re fond of him- You’re fond of Yuri. You missed him. But that was it.

Right?

He was your friend. Someone you saw everyday… cooked for… celebrated with… could spend hours sitting next to each other without talking….

A list of intimate moments flashed before your eyes. His dumb ways of showing affection, his terrible cooking always done in an attempt to help you, the promises he kept, the apologies gave. Yuri was dependable and intelligent and… attractive….

You hid under your blankets, the shame caught up with you.

You were in danger.

You were getting a crush.

… Yuri is having a similar plight in the other room, completely oblivious to your meltdown. He thought about how he got to see you. How happy he felt that you waited. How…. Cute it was that you missed him.

…. Damn it. He groans into his pillow, face buried deep inside it.

Why are you doing things like this? Why is it driving him crazy???

He can’t let this be!

You are not worthy!

~

Between everything that had been going on, you hadn’t gotten to spend as much time with Anya as usual. But this Saturday, she insisted on staying over with you with her parents were away. Because of your apartment being smaller and Bond now having joined the family, the Forgers found it easier to have you stay at their apartment while they out. They trusted you enough not to go inside their rooms. The day should have gone without a hitch, but the reason Anya had requested for you that date… wasn’t just because she missed you.

Anya insisted on going to a park not close from home.

The suddenness of this request puzzled you. She’d always been a good girl and stayed inside with you. Why was she arguing so hard to go to this park today?

You tried giving her excuses on why you couldn’t… but her teary eyes… made you give in and put on a coat. It was fall now. You stepped out with Bond’s leash and Anya’s hand, trying hard to brush off the sudden anxiety trickling down from this unexpected day spent out in public. Anya’s happiness was more important.

It took a bus ride to get there, but Anya and Bond behaved rather well. You felt lucky to have such easy wards as you stepped outside with them. Now at the park, Anya held your hand tight and began dragging you around everywhere. She looked like she was checking every corner of the park looking for something. She would merely tell you that she wanted to sightsee a bit if you asked, but her intensity had you suspecting that was a lie. Anya could only look guiltily away as she knew her fib had failed.

Finally, at an icecream stand, she found what she was looking for. There, surrounded by multiple men and his two other friends stood Damian. Anya had known that he’d be there that day, but her dad would be busy trying to uncover another group doing jobs in his organization’s name, and her mom insisted on visiting a sick coworker. So, with you, who are so relaxed with the rules around Anya, she knew she had to take this opportunity!

She gave Bond a look and both nodded at the same time. She asked you for the leash and for money. You handed both over, thinking Anya was trying to act more grown up. You held in laughter as both child and dog marched over to the stand, heads high and legs straight like soldiers. You saw the group of boys take notice of her and begin talking to her.

So they were friends! Your smile widened at the sight. They were adorable as they squabbled, though the boy’s comments weren’t fully heard by you, you could see that whenever Anya looked the slightest bit down, he’d get worried and change his tone. These were good kids.

Finally, one of the big men around Damian mentioned that they had to keep moving. Damian understood and gave Anya one last point.

‘… I guess your dog is a little bit cool.’

Anya and Bond immediately perked up at that.

After this, you all got some lunch You asked Anya about the boys and, after some thought, she excitedly went on about her quest to make them her friends. You nodded along, a bit stunned by how serious she was taking this. You guessed she might have a crush, with how obsessed she seemed… You laughed a bit and gave her a head pat.

‘I wish you luck. From where I stood, it looked like he didn’t mind you at all. I might even go as far as to say he likes your company…’

Anya’s eyes sparkled. She leaned over her chair.

‘Really?’

You remembered the faces Damien made as Anya tried impressing him. You laughed some more at the memory of his red face.

‘Yeah! You’re a cute kid, Anya.’ You looked at her warmly with a smile.

‘Anyone would want to keep a girl like you.’

Anya’s face beamed for a second, before she deflated a bit and looked down at her hands. She didn’t talk much after that, worrying you a bit. You wondered if you said something wrong… you didn’t want to force her into letting you know, so you gently guided her out of the restaurant.

You were making your way home… but as you were waiting for the bus, Bond began acting up. He looked from one side to another, sniffing, and barked. You asked him what was wrong, but his eyes stayed on Anya’s, and they locked eyes for a while. It was like they were having a conversation in their heads… the sight was peculiar Anya’s hand on yours tightened. You looked at her and her lips were pulled to a grimace.

‘I- I’M SORRY, I FORGOT TO GET SOMETHING!’

‘What?!’

Anya let your hand go and got on Bond. The pair ran off from you in a flash. You were absolutely dumbfounded for a good three seconds before you started running after them.

‘ANYAA! BOND!! COME BACK!’

Like a lunatic, you chased them, but the dog was FAST. You stumbled through the streets, lost. What were you going to do? What could you do??

You searched from corner to corner, occasionally asking passerbyers if they’d seen a girl and a dog. Most skipped past you. You were panicking.

In your delirium, you weren’t looking where you were going. You face-planted the chest of a man as you whipped your head around a crowded street. Your alarm bells went off and you moved back, apologies spilling from your mouth. You looked at his chest and saw it was a police uniform. Your anxiety spiked for a second, remembering reports of deportations, but your worry for Anya overtook it fast. You moved to clutch his arm.

‘I-I’m sorry, officer, but I really need help with-!’

‘…. Damn it….’

You had looked up and locked eyes with the last person you expected to find.

Yuri.

It was Yuri in front of you with an officer’s uniform.

What was he doing here with that get up?

~

Finally, Yuri had gotten a tip on the case. The plan of these terrorists was to kidnap the youngest son of Donovan Desmond. After being told, he was rushed to Damian’s location to be a back up to his guards.

Being so far from your side of the city, he didn’t expect to run into you.

‘Y-Yuri? Why-‘

‘Ah- It’s a work thing!’ Yuri had a lie prepared. He didn’t expect an encounter like this to happen… but he always came prepared. He looked away and tried acting aloof.

‘… I was sent to collect some papers. They wanted me dressed like this to…. Avoid suspicion.’

That was shady. You made a face as you concluded.

‘Doesn’t… dressing you as an officer make you more suspicious? What kind of papers are you collecting…?’

‘……’ Yuri had no response to this. He tried smiling it off and changing the subject.

‘What did you need an officer for?’

‘AH! ANYA!’ You explained what happened with frantic motions. Yuri took in a breath and released it with exasperation over your carelessness.

‘You just let her?? You should have had a tighter grip on her!’

‘She’s always been a good girl! I didn’t know what she was doing!’

‘Ugh, Y/N…’

Yuri looked to the side, also scanning the crowd.

‘… We should look for a proper policeman. He should be able to get-‘

While scanning, he remembered his job. His target was no longer in sight. Yuri panicked and began moving through the crowd. You followed.

‘Huh? Yuri? Did you find one-‘

He wasn’t listening to you, zig-zagging through alleys and slim passages he knew the guards would prioritize using. He turned a corner and found what he was looking for. What he dreaded.

The dazed bodies of the guards littered the floor. You gasped at the sight, shaken. Yuri made a tsk sound as he knelt down to check on the guards. One was still sputtering.

Yuri began questioning the man on what happened. He was promptly told that a group of armed individuals shot from above. They were quick with their ambush, picking up the frightened boys and running. Yuri asked if he heard any sounds of a car, but he hadn’t. Yuri hoped that meant they were keeping them somewhere near.

As you listened to their conversation, you squinted and picked up something from the floor. A pink hair. Your heart dropped. You were down on the soldier’s level in a millisecond, grabbing him and asking if the kidnappers had taken a little girl and a dog.

The delirious man was confused.

‘They…. Didn’t take a girl but….’

He hazily recollected the shooting.

‘There was a dog. I could hear it, but I didn’t see it. After the men left, it ran past us.’

Adrenaline pumped inside you. That had to have been Anya and Bond. Yuri pushed you away to ask more questions, but the guard passed out by then. Fuck. He looked at your quivering form.

‘You need to leave. Get the police and report Anya missing. I have work-‘

You grabbed his shoulder before he could get back up. Your eyes were watery but determined.

‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this! Is Anya’s hair!!! She was here with Bond! They followed those men! Oh god, we need to follow them!!!’

‘WHAT?! Y/N, you’re being hysterical! Who even knows if Anya is going the same way as them, I mean why would she?? These are dangerous men! She’d be scared! You need to go, there’s nothing you can-‘

‘SHUT UP! I know it’s a long shot but….’ You thought about it for a bit. ‘…. There’s actually a high chance she IS following them. That girl’s sense of adventure is… scary. And what good will you do by yourself?? You’re an office worker, not in the military like your stupid suit suggests! They took the kids! They might have Anya now!!! AAAUGH!’

You got up, a protective nature taking you over. ‘WE’RE WASTING TIME! You can either come with me or go get the fucking police yourself!’ You ran to the direction the man had pointed. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but you were frantic, looking for traces anywhere of the dog or Anya.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuri was following you, trying to decide what to do. You couldn’t get involved. As a civilian… this was too dangerous, you could risk everything! He resolved himself to doing what he had to do, as his job entailed. Taking you out. He’d knock you out with a blow and deal with the consequences later.

He readied his arm, aimed as you paused to look around, and-

The image of you, scared of him, popped into his head and made his arm falter.

‘PAW PRINTS!’

You ducked to the pavement, and he missed.

There was a dirty puddle that pooled ahead of you, and from it there were light traces of water droplets and grit in the form of paws. You had a lead!

‘Come on, Yuri!’ You got back up and ran ahead. Yuri gripped his palm tightly, squeezing the fabric of his glove as he exhaled and followed you. He’s missing out on crucial time he should be using to find the kidnappers. He should be doing his work!!! He considered leaving you behind, but you were so engrossed in your following of the paw prints-

A door to someone’s residence opened and its occupant almost ran into you. Luckily, Yuri grabbed your shirt collar just in time. You thanked Yuri, apologized to the startled person, and kept going, walking faster now. You could not be left alone. This area is currently dangerously close to a shooting while the perpetrators were still out. He was sure you would find a way to get yourself involved and killed. He had to try knocking you out again, to keep you somewhere safe. To stop worrying about you…

He didn’t want you involved at all.

But every time he did, it was like a guardian angel blessed you from his strike, making him not fast enough, not committed enough. So he. Kept. Missing. And you, oblivious to it all, kept investigating. Eventually, clues left behind left you stopping by a corner and peeking past it to see… armed and men entering a back door. You punched the wall in triumph. Yuri… was impressed.

‘… You got lucky.’

‘No I didn’t! I followed Bond’s trail!’

‘What is that dog thinking? What is ANYA thinking???’

‘… If we get out of this, I am not taking them out again.’

‘Yeah,’ Yuri paused and looked at you. This had to be it. He’d do it now. He steeled his worry. ‘I’ll make sure you do-‘

He had moved to grab you, but you ran to the residence as soon as the last masked man went inside. Yuri’s worry grew tenfold at your boldness; they just went in!! What were you doing following them?!

He whisper-shouted at you. ‘Y/N! SERIOSULY!’ He moved to follow you. ‘Leave this alone!!! You’re going to get shot-‘

You both moved to the side of the rickety residence and were witness to a shaggy tail hopping through an open window.

Bond.

You ran to follow it, also scream-whispering now.

‘ANYA! BOOOND!’

The window was somewhat high, so you moved to be on your tiptoes to look inside. It was a hallway, and you could make out someone moving to the left, rounding a corner.

‘Yuri, help me!’

Yuri was not having it. He grabbed you by your sides and tried yanking you off.

‘No! I refuse! Let me handle it, Y/N, for fuck’s sakes-‘

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING? We’re already here! S-Stop grabbing there!!!!’ You made a squeak as he brushed something he shouldn’t have.

‘YURI!!!!!’

‘I WOULDN’T HAVE TOUCHED IT IF YOU’D JUST-‘

You both heard the sound of the back door open. Footsteps were coming out.

Time moved slowly for you as you were launched up to the window. You got halfway through and silently cursed in your head as you moved the rest of yourself in, trying very hard to make as little noise as possible as you fell inside. Yuri was surprisingly quicker and much more graceful with his entrance.

Now you were impressed.

‘Woah, you make that look easy-‘

‘God damn it Y/N…’ Yuri was pissed. Now you (a civilian) and him were both inside the enemy building, without a plan, without inside knowledge, and with kids on the line. He rubbed his forehead as he considered what to do, the stress getting to him. ‘… I should stuff you in a closet until this is over.’

‘And risk getting found and shot? No thanks.’ You tried moving past him to go to the corridor you knew Anya and Bond went to, but he snatched you. He didn’t want to let you go.

‘I’m deadly serious here, I think you should hide while I look for the kids.’

‘But I know where Anya went… come on, they turned this corner-‘

There were sounds of men making muffled, surprised noises, and a few thumps from the floor coming from the wall next to you.

You and Yuri locked eyes. Yuri sighed and grabbed you by the arm. He led the way as you both walked to the room the noises came from. He stayed outside and listened for any signs of someone being inside. He could only hear soft sounds like someone struggling with something. It could be the kids… He motioned for you to stand back as he cautiously opened the door…

The sight was unbelievable, as Anya and Bond were trying to untie the unconscious boys on the floor with the bodies of two unconscious men nearby. The four of you looked at one another. Anya and Bond shook as if they had been caught.

‘Anya!!!! I knew it! I told you Yuri!!! She was here-‘

‘And what IS she doing here?’ Yuri closed the door behind him and locked it. He crossed his arms and looked at Anya with new suspicion. Anya could read his thoughts, it wouldn’t be Yuri if he wasn’t ready to start questioning a child. Anya tripped over her explanation.

‘I-I WAS LOOKING FOR A PIN I UM- I DROPPED IT AND I SAW- D-DAMIEN WAS KIDNAPPED AND! AND! I’M UH- HERO-‘

Yuri’s stare was making you uncomfortable. You jumped in at Anya’s defense, moving to kneel next to her and deciphering what she was trying to say.

‘Anya, were you trying to play hero by chasing after Damien?’

Anya was sweating bullets as she read what you were trying to do. She nodded enthusiastically at the excuse.

‘I- I wanted to save him! Anya is a good girl!’

You made a noise in your throat of frustration and you grabbed her shoulders.

‘That was stupid!!! You’re just a little girl, Anya! There’s nothing you could do-‘

‘Oh, NOW you’re calling the kettle black!’ Yuri stepped in, moving towards the knocked out guards. He inspected them, they were still alive and had a curious bruise on their necks with a small puncture.  He materialized thin rope from a pocket in his uniform and got to tying them like it was nothing.

‘I told you to stay back, and look where you are now!’

You were stunned looking at Yuri move as if he’s done this before. Like this was a routine he knew by heart. Your mind lagged as you tried forming a response.

‘That… That was different! I’m Anya’s caretaker today-‘

‘Yeah? And you failed. You let her get in this mess, and you should’ve let me handle it. Now you’re a liability.’

The harshness in his voice cut you off. You were stunned looking at him, a liability to what exactly? You began spiraling with your thoughts as Yuri finished securing the knots and got up. He had another question for Anya.

‘What happened to these men?’

That, Anya couldn’t answer. She became sheepish. ‘U-Um… Anya walked inside and- It was scary but… they both just fell!’

Yuri racked his brain and looked outside. The men were near a window. By the puncture marks, it looked like someone darted them from the next building. But why? And where were the darts?

Yuri looked at the men, then at the boys. He couldn’t risk more coming in.

‘Alright, we should take the children and go. We’re going to need to escape through the window we came out of before their friends show up.’

You jolted from your delusions, and really looked at Yuri. … you decided your concerns could be saved for another day when you weren’t so close to death. As suspicious as Yuri was being, at least he seemed competent.

You nodded and took one of the boys while Yuri took two. The trip down the corridor went without a hitch, with it being clear. Yuri helped you outside first, passed you one child after the other, and was the last to jump down. So far so good. You all waited for the guard that was watching outside to go in. He took his time, but he did eventually put out his cigarette and go in.

The coast was clear.

You made a run for it, moving one way and another, getting as far from there as possible. Everything was going to be okay! Everyone made it! You were ready to keep running, but Yuri stopped when he found a telephone booth. He told you he’d call for help. He put down the two children and went inside. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but you took the chance to catch your breath. When he came out, he looked better.

‘Someone will be here in a few minutes to help you with the kids.’

‘Great! That means we’re good now, right?’

‘…’ He turned around and grabbed you by the shoulders. He gripped them tightly, too tightly.

‘Yuri, that hurts-‘

‘Listen to me.’ You pause and look up at him. He looked like the same, scary Yuri he was when you first met him. Cold, spiteful. Not your usual Yuri these days.

‘I need to go back to… get something. You need to stay with the kids. Do you hear me?’

Your blood froze. He was going back? To those men with guns? You shook your head.

‘No- No you’re not! Yuri, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing that concerns you now.’ He was being very matter-of-factly with you.

‘Stay with the kids.’

You stayed silent as he moved away from you and began running the way he came. You had a lot to chew on in the minutes you spent sitting with Anya and the others, waiting for someone to pick you all up.

Yuri was involved in something dangerous. The image of him working an office job was long gone. You couldn’t believe that anymore. So what? What was it he was doing? Who was he really?

You didn’t realize it, but Anya was reading your thoughts and pitying you. She laid her head on your shoulder and gave you a one-sided hug. It was enough to make you momentarily pause and give her a pat back.

‘Are you tired?’

‘…. Yeah.’

‘Hm…. Crazy day… you really shouldn’t have run off.’

‘…. I’m really sorry.’

Anya clutched your shirt, face taught with emotion she couldn’t share. How could she tell you that Damien could have died if Bond hadn’t gotten a vision? If she hadn’t ran past her dad in disguise and made him follow her? It was true that she wanted to be a hero but… it was really him who saved the boys.

‘I really wanted to help. I was… scared.’

The sincerity in her words made your conscience twist. She shouldn’t have been in that situation. It was irresponsible. But…

You did the same, by not calling the authorities and jumping in. You sighed and your hand found hers. You held it.

‘I know what it feels like…’

You stayed silent the rest of the time waiting for someone to come. Eventually, one such man wearing a similar outfit to Yuri’s stepped into view. He was with others in different clothing, but all willing to help. They took care of the boys, taking them away, and the man in uniform offered to take you and Anya home. You asked about Yuri.

The man blinked, surprised that you knew his name. After looking at you little closer, his face beamed.

‘Are you Yuri’s wife?’

‘… yes.’

His smile softened. ‘I can assure you your husband will be alright. He’s going to be taken back for questioning, but that’s just standard procedure. He’ll…. Probably be home late tonight.’

‘Oh…’ You didn’t know what you expected, but the casual reassurance the man gave you… only solidified the pit in your stomach. You clutched your chest and looked to the direction Yuri ran off. You didn’t know how you would face him when he came home.

You agreed to the car ride and both you and Anya stumbled back after everything, tired. Anya felt guilty for the sadness you felt. It was to save Damian but… she still felt like a bad kid. She held your hand and promised to herself she’d make it up to you.

~

Yuri didn't talk to you for days.

He avoided you, woke up earlier, came home later, ate out and would simply stay in his room. He was still mad, and it was driving you crazy with guilt and fear.

You knew you fucked up. What if you couldn’t be friends anymore? What if he didn't want you anymore? What if he divorced you? What if-

The image of cold Yuri in a uniform came back to your head.

.... what if something worse happened to you?

Your fear was palpable. You didn't know how to confront it. You know what you saw; a different side of Yuri. A scary one that was hiding something.

... you missed not knowing. You missed being able to just laugh with him. You hated the anxiety, the quiet, the stress. You didn't like this.

It was making you sick.

So finally, a day before completing a full week of silence, you took action. Fuck your fear. This was worse.

~

Yuri slowly moved to go back home after another grueling day squeezing something out of nothing. There still weren’t any leads on who these terrorists worked for, why they targeted Damien, or who shot them-

That mystery was particularly driving him insane. It was as if someone had planned to take the boys from the house, but Yuri walked in and made them run.

… did this mean there was yet another threat he had to look out for? Yuri groaned as he made his way into his apartment complex. Stepping through, his mind went from one drag… to another.

You.

… How could he deal with you?

Days had passed and still, he was unable to let go of his anger… and his fear. He felt immense disappointment in himself for his inability to put you down. He had been given a warning for his misconduct; he spinned the story differently by saying that you were already trying to get inside when he found you but still… you were his wife. He was in trouble. And he took the shame; he blamed himself fully for being unable to take you down. He could have handled everything by himself. You didn’t need to get yourself in danger. You didn’t need to…. See him while he worked.

When he went back to their hideout, he kept feeling paranoid that you would pop back in. Find him smashing people’s heads. His fear only made him angrier. You shouldn’t have been here. This was your fault.

It…. It was your fault.

Your fault he had nightmares where you didn’t make it. Nightmares where he you were caught in the crossfire and were shot. Nightmares where you found him in a room full of corpses and you weeped. Nightmares where you ran away from him, screaming and calling him a murderer.

Nightmares where he’d come home and you were gone.

He gripped his key and stood outside your door. His door. Both of yours. He felt slapped again by the fact that you were married to him by obligation. Your relationship was so… fragile. He was sickening himself with worry over the thought of being without you.

When did you get this much power over him? It was so unfair!

He choked on a breath and had to calm himself down. He couldn’t keep waiting outside… he didn’t want Yor to catch him.

Yuri came inside and calmed himself by reminding himself tomorrow would be his day off. He could take it easy… maybe bring a drink to his room. He looked up from taking off his coat and found you waiting for him with brandy and glasses.

You pat the seat next to you. 'Please join me...'

... his heart hammered in his chest.

~

‘Why won’t you talk to me?’

You decided to start with that question as you poured some liquid into a cup and handed it to him. Yuri took it but didn’t reply.

… This wouldn’t get you anywhere. You drank from your glass and thought about what to say. You closed your eyes, took in a breath, and moved to face him.

‘Yuri… I really want to talk to you again. Please…? Can you tell me what’s wrong?’

Yuri’s face hardened. He also closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he chugged his glass in one go. He slammed it back to the table and looked at you with accusatory eyes.

‘You didn’t listen to me!’

‘…. Yeah. You’re right, I didn’t-’

‘You are SO. DUMB!’

‘HEY NOW!’

‘What kind of IDIOT sees multiple men that were shot and thinks ‘OH, I SHOULD FOLLOW THE PEOPLE THAT DID THIS!’ You. You are that idiot.’ He poured another glass and downed it, moving onto a third with shaking hands as he continued.

‘Fucking hunting down tracks like a junior detective. You ran RIGHT INTO DANGER with no plan and no skills in combat. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? If we weren’t so…. God damned BLESSED to have been able to get out of there scott free! Do you know how much of a miracle that was? No! You don’t know! You don’t know anything- You’re seriously so-‘

You stopped him before he could continue his consumption of alcohol. No way were you letting this man go on like this.

‘Yuri, pace yourself! No more!’

‘I know what I can handle. Focus on yourself. It’s the only thing you’re good at anyways.’

Woah. Hold on.

'I wasn’t being selfish! I was scared for Anya! Waiting for the police felt like a waste of time… I just wanted to help-'

‘Well you could have left it to me then! You could have just stayed put and I would’ve handled it.’

You snorted. You couldn’t help it. You suspected from the bit you saw of his ‘work’ that he might be right… but you still weren’t just going to stand around and do nothing…

‘You’re just one man, Yuri! Those were a lot of men with guns! What were you going to do if you got to that room alone? You wouldn’t have been able to drag so many kids out by yourself-‘

You weren’t understanding! Yuri grabbed your arms.

'I COULD HAVE FIGURED IT OUT! I can take care of myself just fine, Y/N, I’ve been through so much worse! But you can’t!!!' Your eyes widened at the declaration. You wanted to ask more but…

His face-

He looked on the verge of tears. He moved his head away from you and squeezed his eyes.

'I....' Yuri shook... and he slowly squeezed your arms a few times to center himself before continuing.

'I've taken defense classes. My job is... dangerous. I'm important.'

He couldn't believe what he was spilling. He didn't want to spell it out to you but, damn it. Damn it! You and your stupid curiosity. He squeezed his eyes and let go of one of your arms to wipe at them.

'You're weak. You could've gotten hurt. Please... be more conscious of that. Listen to me when I tell you to stop.’

You ached as you watched Yuri like this. He cared about you... and this scared him. That much was evident. No matter his secrets, his personality change, his questionable job...

This was the Yuri you knew. The one you... could depend on. The one you… crushed on. You were quick to back down and relent to him.

'... fine. You’re… right, I…. didn’t know. I’m sorry... I’m sorry for jumping in blind on something as serious as that. I won’t.... do it again.'

Your promise felt hollow, but it was what Yuri wanted. What he needed to hear. You felt your heart squeeze as his grip on you relaxed. He released the breath he was holding, turned around, and took back his glass.

'Alright...'

The mood was becoming… lighter. Now that you talked it out, now that you both shared your grievances…

What else was there to do other than drink?

~

You were tipsy. Yuri was drunk. The conversation had stayed slightly… stiff as you both sipped on your drinks, you had conversed about stuff you missed in the week of silence, and it was only… bringing you guys down again.

There was that awkward quiet again.

You decided what you needed was a change in location. This experience would be better in your bed. You picked up the rest of the bottle and made the trek to your room. Yuri was beside himself, tripping as he followed you. You placed your glass and bottle on your nightstand and laid down on your bed, making an exaggerated noise of comfiness. Everything felt better when you were tipsy.

In your hazy mind, you began reminiscing about your siblings, Anya and her friends. How cute they were, becoming friends and looking out for each other. A curious, silly question came to mind.

‘… do you think we would’ve been friends in grade school?’

It caught Yuri off guard. He stumbled into bed to lie next to you, settling on his back as he mulled it over. He wasn’t sure if it would have happened. He was… never the most open-minded kid and… he might have been one to shun you back then. But he wasn’t like that anymore. And- he wanted to believe in good things right now…

‘…. Possibly. You needed friends. Kid-version-of-me might as well have stepped up...’

You laughed at the mental image of a young Yuri brashly declaring you as his friend. It was cute… and it made you want to ask more.

‘You know about my school years… but what about you?’ You decided to turn the conversation around. Yor always told stories about Yuri’s academic successes but… never spoke about any other school passions. Or about any friends of his.

‘How was school for you? Too busy with your nose buried in a book?’

You teased him and expected a shove or something back… but Yuri didn’t move from his spot. You looked over and found him staring at the ceiling. He looked… serious.

‘Yeah. I mean. It was that or…’ Yuri narrowed his eyes and looked away. He took in a breath.

‘I guess you can say I can sympathize with your crappy school situation.’

Yuri confesses to a lot of his childhood hardships. Things he hadn’t even told his sister about. Like minor bullying he dealt with; being a bookworm and a bit of a teacher’s pet, he was an easy target for students annoyed at him. Students with better families and financial situations. He tried ignoring them at first, but it didn’t work. They sought him out. So eventually, he began lashing out, and his classmates… became fearful of him. He was finally given the peace he wanted… by becoming ostracized and avoided. At least, up until he got into a good high school and started over.

Yuri tried turning the story around. He learned how to make friends. He surrounded himself with peers that were as engaging as him. He’s successful now. He’s grown.

Still… it was unexpected to feel you hug him.

‘H-Huh-‘

‘I’m so sorry you went through that.’

In Yuri’s bewilderment, you moved to get more comfortable, his face to your chest, your arms more firmly planted and your chin on his head.

‘You deserved better. You were a good kid… to be driven to that point… kids can be such fucking dicks.’

Yuri blinked. His brain finally caught up. You were hugging him. It was comfortable. He was hugged and he was comforted, and he liked it. His hands shakily grasped at your arms and he closed his eyes.

‘Y-Yeah but- that’s in the past! It doesn’t even matter anymore!’

‘Hm… I think it does. I think it shaped you into being as cautious as you are now…’ Your tongue was loose from the alcohol, you shared too much. And you were too daring with your affection. You moved him to look into his eyes, your hands firmly on his face.

‘But… you’re right. You’re successful. You rose above those little shits and you’re all the better for it.’ You smiled, wide and smug and beautiful. His breath caught in his throat as you moved his hair aside.

‘I’m so proud of you Yuri. You’re so strong.’

Yuri had nowhere to hide anymore. He was trapped, unable to look away from you, and stunned by the rush of emotion that overwhelmed him. He tried deflecting it, he couldn’t accept your praise for once-

‘T-That’s… all thanks to Yor, though! Yor kept me going! Yor provided for the family! T-That’s why she deserves all the credit-‘

You shook your head and got up. ‘Nonono, shhh, Yuri.’ You’re leaning over him now, almost on top of him, penetrating him with your eyes. ‘I know. I understand and I admire her too for all she’s done. But your accomplishments are also your own. You defended yourself. You studied. You learned.’

Your head leans down unwillingly, like you were letting gravity win, until it touches his and you’re sharing breaths. You’re smiling again.

‘What happened to cocky Yuri? Accept it. You’re amazing, Yuri. No one in the world is like you.’

Yuri’s eyebrows knit together, and his heart exploded. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, he can’t stand looking at you any longer. He moves quickly, sweeping you into an embrace now, making you the smaller spoon. You can hear his thunderous heart through his shirt, but you’re too busy feeling giddy from his cute reaction. You giggle as he tried changing the subject.

~

The rest of the night is spent still being touchy, hanging on to each other's clothing or bodies as you laugh and cry and laugh again. Sometimes you both sit up to chug more booze, but you always melted back into each other’s arms.

Finally, the booze is gone and you’re both getting tired. But, getting off your high, you decide you have one last confession to make.

'I know I've told you that love doesn't matter for me…'

Yuri’s interest is immediately piqued. He doesn’t want to show it, but he is all ears and he can’t help looking at you, inching closer as you continue.

'.... it does. I’m... no different than anyone else. Of course I want to fall in love. Of course I want... to feel good. But here... with my life.' You give a bitter laugh; your tears had already left you.

'I knew I had to take what I can get. And… yeah, it’s better than being married to a creep... to settle for something loveless.' You force a smile.

'Yeah… it’s not all bad, I guess. This, being with you, is way better. Honestly! Better than I could’ve hoped for. I am so grateful for you, Yuri. You’re such a joy to have around… Yor has become my good friend… but I feel… somehow, a lot closer to you.'

Yuri's heart began palpitating, anticipating what comes next. Was this finally it? You love him. Just say it. Everything he had been wanting to hear, the thing he had been hoping for….

His heart stops when an extra tear manages to escape your dry eye.

'... still. I kinda wish I could’ve had a romance at some point. Would've been nice to hear that someone loves me... at least once.'

.... there is a silence in the room. Yuri looked at your defeated form. The unexpected occurs.

'I love you.'

Earnest. His words left him without a thought. He couldn’t be bothered to think it through better, it’s what he felt. What he’s been holding back, fighting, denying. And saying it... made him feel so much better. He didn’t smile, but he hoped he looked serious. He hoped he could convey that he meant it.

He said it again, making sure your eyes were on his.

‘I love you.’

... you were stunned for words. Yuri loved you. The possibility of your crush coming true fluttered in your chest. He loved you. He told you he loved you. Yuri…. Drunk Yuri… Yuri who puts his sister over everyone…. Yuri who said he’d never be in a real relationship…

Reason won over a funny fantasy. He loved you like a friend. That had to be it.

‘Yeah… he's drunk and overemotional...’ you remind yourself. And you laugh.

‘But… eh. What the hell. I'm drunk too...'

You decided you could use this a bit. To let go of your crush. To let something hide in plain sight. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath.

'I love you too.'

You're smiling. You're beautiful. His heart is in his throat. Yuri can’t speak, he breathes in shakily. He is so happy. And lost. And a bit.... too unwell. The strong emotions and the alcohol don’t mix well. The man is in the restroom for a while, vomiting his feelings into the toilet as you laugh and begin to pass out without a care. This was the culmination of the night… you were both feeling completely wiped.

By the times he's done, he’s feeling better, and after brushing his teeth and a change of clothes, he goes into your bedroom, more sober now but still in a daze... He sees you asleep and ponders going back to his room.

… He lays beside you instead. He can’t help stare at you and wonder about tomorrow. All the things that are going to change now that you’re together. Really. Truthfully. Officially.

You were married… and you loved each other.

He's... excited. He snuggles up to you and closes his eyes, enjoying your breath on his. He wants to do this every night. He wants to keep you forever. Yeah…

He’s excited.

He’s in love.

#spy x family #spy x family yuri #spy x family oc #yuri briar #yuri briar x reader #yuri briar x y/n #sxf yuri #sxf yuri x reader #female reader #afab reader #reader insert #x reader #marriage of convenience #friends to lovers #slow burn #I. Have Been GOING UP IN WORDS EACH FUCKING SEGMENT #THIS IS 11k WORDS!!!!! #AAAAAAAAGH PLEASE EXCUSE ANY TYPOS OR AWKWARD BITS #IM POSTING THIS CUZ I PROMISED ID FINISH BUT IM A LIL DELIRIOUS AND I HAVE TO BE UP IN 3 HOURS LMAO #I HOPE ITS OK AAAAAGH IM GOING TO BE IN AN AMUSEMENT PARK ON ANOTHER CITY WITH FAM ALL DAY TOMORROW. ITS GONNA BE HELL #i am going to die #rtkyh

[brian-in-finance]

Photo: Patch Bell

Outlander and Karen Pirie star Lauren Lyle on her self-belief and taking the leap to pursue her dream

Nominated for two awards at the Scottish Baftas this evening, Lauren Lyle promises it will be a celebration no matter the outcome.

The Glasgow actress has grafted hard to enjoy a remarkable rise over recent years, headlined by her first leading role in Karen Pirie, the acclaimed St Andrews-set crime drama based on Val McDermid’s novels.

Next year is set to be the 30-year-old star’s biggest yet, with several leading roles in film and TV, including a second series of Karen Pirie, so now seems like a good time to pause and look back on her career so far.

“I moved to London at 19 and if I’d told myself then that I’d have my own TV show, had done one of the biggest shows in America (Outlander) and would be working all the time, I don’t think I would have believed it,” she smiled.

“I would have thought I’d needed to have done something terrible to have got here, but I just worked really hard. I’m working on a show called Toxic Town for Netflix, which has Rory Kinnear and Jodie Whittaker in it, and I asked both what their secret is. They said they didn’t know, they just keep working, and they’re testament to doing great work and not trying to be famous.

“Rory told me he always wanted to be known for being good, and I’m the same. I’m trying to pick good things and be in quality stuff, things that excite me and getting to work with good people.

“I came to London to audition for drama schools and came close but didn’t get in. I think I’d only been to London once before as a kid but didn’t remember it. I was so hungry for it, and being around other actors in this world was so thrilling and I knew this was what I wanted to do and the place to do it.”

Taking the plunge

Lauren moved into a shared house with four people she hadn’t previously met. She took on several jobs to pay the bills while trying to engineer a break, joining a theatre company and eager to learn.

Photo: Patch Bell

“It was a risk but I put my head down and grafted hard,” she said. “I think I’ve always had deluded confidence that I can do something. My mum is a school PE teacher and I was a gymnast and runner and I’ve always been competitive to win the race, but that’s not helpful at times because there isn’t a finishing line or right answer here; there’s lots of different ways to do this, so I’ve had to put those feelings aside at times.

“I had a big agent for about a year before I got a job, and then two came within two or three weeks of each other – Outlander and Broke, with Sean Bean – and my life changed. I did my tax return for that year and realised I’d done about six jobs – dog walker, flyering, receptionist, in Zara’s stock room for 18 months. Random stuff that I did for ages.

“It was bleak at times but I loved going to the theatre and seeing this life dangled in front of me. It was quite inspiring.”

Karen Pirie

Lauren’s recurring role as Marsali in Outlander was her break, while BBC thriller Vigil, where she played activist Jade, introduced her to a different audience. When Karen Pirie came along last year, she felt ready.

“I’m so proud to be part of the show. It was so well made, beautifully shot, and with a crew who were hungry to be there. It was my first lead and I had creative control around what she looked like and who she was,” Lauren explained.

“The director, Gareth Bryn, writer Emer Kenny – who also executive produced – and myself were constantly in conversation. We all had such a brilliant time, and it was a story that meant something and said something of young women.

“It was about a young woman trying to solve a crime about another young woman, so Karen knew what it’s like to be afraid to walk home alone at night, and how a young person can be underestimated in the workplace and how difficult it can be to prove themselves.”

Photo: ITV

Based on Val McDermid’s novel The Distant Echo – about the cold case investigation of a 19-year-old woman’s death which is reopened and given to DS Karen Pirie after a podcast cast doubt on the original investigation – it was a Sunday night hit for ITV last year.

“Val has been complimentary and incredibly supportive of me,” Lauren continued. “She had to sign off on me playing the character. I was worried if she would be happy with the Methil accent. She visited the set and I prepared myself, but she said I was very good.

“She messaged me on Twitter when the awards nominations were announced and congratulated me and said we would need to go for a drink. I’d love to have a drink with her – I’m sure she would have some great stories!”

Scottish Baftas

The drink will be flowing this evening at the Scottish Baftas in Glasgow where, in addition to Lauren’s two nominations, Karen Pirie is also in the fiction director and scripted television categories.

“The show came out too late for the 2022 awards, but it’s nice that we’ve since announced a second series. We have a big Karen Pirie table. My parents are coming – my dad has a new velvet jacket to go with his tartan troos – as is my boyfriend, who is South-African-Australian, but we’ve recently discovered he has lots of Scottish heritage, so he might wear a kilt, and my agent will be there, too.

“Everyone is dead excited and the whole team is there to celebrate.”

Lauren’s nomination in the Audience Award category sees her vying with Brian Cox, Lewis Capaldi, Tony Curran, Hamza Yassin and Meryl Williams.

“To be in a category with Brian, Lewis and the legend that is Meryl from The Traitors, I feel that’s the only time in my life this will happen. I’m tempted to say to Brian that if he ever needs me to play his granddaughter or daughter, I’m here. Someone should cast us all as a family.”

New projects

With a second series of Karen Pirie expected to start shooting early next year and a rumoured return for the final series of Outlander – “we may be talking, who knows” is all Lauren will say – 2024 will be another busy one for her.

She will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden.

Photo: Robert Wilson / Starz

“We filmed Something In The Water in the Dominican Republic. It’s like Bridesmaids but a thriller. The Outrun was filmed on Orkney. Saoirse and Jack saw me in Vigil and asked if I’d be part of this film, which is the first from their production company.

“I had to get the Orkney accent just right. At the first read-through, Amy Liptrot, the writer of the book it’s based on, said it needed to be a bit less Shetland and a bit more Orkney, so I went away and made sure it was right.

“Everyone was so welcoming on Orkney. The beaches were ridiculous. I was stung by a weever fish, which apparently is an unusual thing to happen. My foot was on fire for a day.

“I’ve also been making Toxic Town, a new series for Netflix which is about the Corby poisonings, one of the UK’s biggest environmental scandals, which no-one really knows about. It’s about mothers in a David vs Goliath battle for justice, and I’m wearing lots of ‘90s and ‘00s power suits.

“As well as Jodie and Rory, it has people like Aimee Lou Wood from Sex Education, Joe Dempsie from Skins, Claudia Jessie from Bridgerton, Michael Socha from This Is England, and Robert Carlyle, who is the nicest man in the world.”

Shooting in Scotland

Despite living in London, Lauren finds many of her jobs are being shot in Scotland, which she’s happy to see.

“Nowhere looks like Scotland and a lot of productions are coming here for that reason,” she added. “It’s really cool to see it happening and it’s a testament to the quality of workers you get here.

“Plus, it gives me a free trip home to see my family.”

Photo: Stuart Wallace / Shutterstock

At last year’s Scottish Baftas, Dunkirk and The Gold actor Jack Lowden spoke glowingly about Lauren Lyle.

The pair have since become friends and colleagues, and Lauren is keen to support new talent coming through in Scotland just as Jack did with her.

Speaking about this evening’s Scottish Baftas, Lauren said: “Me and Jack were talking about how great it is to get a lot of Scots in a room to congratulate each other, all these people doing well from this proud place, on international stages representing our country, heritage and culture, which we’re so proud of.

“It’s a great opportunity to shake everyone’s hands and say ‘aren’t we an amazing team?’

“I want to know who the other young people are. We’d like to be able to speak to the younger Scottish actors and welcome them in. Jack did that with me – talking about me, being supportive and asking me to be part of his film. I don’t know if we’d met at the point he spoke about me at the Scottish Baftas. I was very flattered.

“He and Saoirse have been really cool and supportive, and I hope to do the same at some point. With season two of Karen Pirie coming, I message its writer, Emer Kenny, and tell her to keep an eye out for this guy and this girl.”

Remember… she will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden. — The Sunday Post

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #Karen Pirie #The Sunday Post #Digital #17 November 2023

[tableintheteacherslounge]

Abbott Elementary S03E07 thoughts

Melissa having a spare room baring in mind we’ve seen her house feels fake sorry - How will she have a room mate but noone look at her pictures and keep control of her kitchen. I get its gonna be for plot but i don’t buy it

I’m w ava that’s a woman who just found out she’s not pregnant - that’s a woman who’s been successfully slutting it up (how’s she gonna slut it up with a roommate)

Omg protective barb �� (ALSO BARBS RIGHT BC MEL WOULDNT GIVE OUT HER ADDRESS WILLINGLY)

AS SOON AS SHE SAID NERD I THOUGHT JACOB

“I know its gods will but hes gotten awfully creative” 😭😭😭😭😭

I love it when Mr johnson lore gets unlocked

Manny and the beard whew 😮‍💨 I was literally wondering where he was so I’m glad they’re using him again

Janine ur SO SMART this is such a good idea and not like a janine unnecessarily fixing a problem like an actual good idea- good job babygirl

Not ava spilling the tea to the whole room

Ponytail melissa at home is so personal to me, I love that this continues from s2, this is just who she is, she throws her hair up when she’s at home. I like that she’s wearing the eagles hoodie we’ve seen before too. Love the hair, makeup & costume details on this show

“I only know how to cook for 12” 😭

Finally mel talking about her breakup! Damn maybe it really was “im not bringing this to school” this whole time

Also Gary being a dead ringer for her dad?? I’m not saying my headcanons are more correct than the show but I disagree with this statement. Gary is not schemmenti coded.

Omg the jacob melissa work momming work sonning ive been dreaming of

“And dont forget theres a 3 booked limit 😒” barb is PISSED and i LOVE IT

“Oh i know what a google doctor is 😤”

Barb really is the best character on tv im sorry noone can do it like sheryl lee ralph like they just cant Shes everything

Janine forgetting the key term (pottery wheel) in her analogy she is so me

“Jacob if u dont like my ziti just say so and i will heave myself out that window” 😭😭

“I went to find mr johnson but he was still crying” NO 😭💔 hes just a sensitive guy 😔

“Mrs howard i blew down the house” 🥺🤏🏻 I love the kids being so central in this ep, I’ve missed that recently, and the kindergarteners are soooo cute

“🐷 I am a pig 🐺 i am a wolf 😄 and im a librarian who thinks she can just change everything around here 👋” IJBOL no please give sheryl another emmy I beg

“This programme is more of a distraction than an improvement” that’s teaaa actually. Thats so often what councils etc do, distract with new flashy things rather than fix the real problems. Even though in this case it’s well meaning it does make u think how big a priority should the library actually be? But actually children reading is super important and what did they say last season? The librarian was an alexa in glasses? 🤣

“You okay? You look like raven having a vision” 😭 you don’t understand how often i say this

I have thoughts on Barbara’s intentions and my instinct is gregory needs to keep her name out his mouth. I do think it’s really important that Janine stood up to Barbara, just maybe gregory made barbara seem worse than she was

“It’s been a rough week I could use the pick me up” i just love mr johnson

My immediate reaction was this one of my favourite episodes of the season - lots of excellent Barb moments, the kids, more mr johnson, story arcs I enjoyed and felt completed.

Janine standing up to Barbara was a really big deal for her considering her hatred of conflict and worship of barbara as a mother figure. It made me really proud to see how far janine has come.

But the longer since watching the less I like it. And it’s two main things:

- the jacob melissa room mate situation feels like jumping the shark for plots sake and not something realistic for those characters. So as much as I enjoy them and their dynamic and their growth it just feels fake.

- I dont care about the librarian. The set up feels like she could stick around and I just don’t care for new characters, I like my main people. (But then the same apprehension was had w the district people and they’ve not seemed to be around much).

I do still really like this ep and it definitely ranks highly in the season, just idk, some eps I enjoy more over time but this has made me feel more confused as to what will happen next I guess.

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary season 3 #abbott elementary s3

[alaynestcnes]

how do you think the series is going to end? obviously jonsa ;) but do you think it'll be similar to the show?

I go backwards and forwards tbh. I do feel like where most of the characters ended up in the show is probably a good indicator for their book ending (I think D&D got told the broad strokes of GRRMs ending but they just got too turned around w what they wanted/thought would make good TV).

More under the cut bc I rambled on for longer than I thought I would 😵‍💫

I do think Jonsa will be canon in some capacity and to me there’s only really two realistic routes;

1. Tragic star-crossed lovers who are tortured by their forbidden feelings (a la the original outline). Honestly if it goes this way I can see their romance being a subplot that isn’t entirely focussed on tbh. GRRM is a romantic but it’s usually subtle - look at Ned/Cat, Jaimie/Brienne. Even with Robb/Jeyne, it was bare bones. These are definitely love stories, but the love is so truthfully woven into the workings of the narrative that it’s barely a plot point itself. Jon and Sansa will have the same, where it’s there and unspoken and painful and probably motivates some of their decisions, but it’s not some epic Romeo and Juliet thing that consumes them. If they do have this plot where they have feelings, I doubt they’ll end up together (I don’t think we can have both). It’ll probably end like the show with everything unspoken/unresolved with Jon exiled or dead and Sansa on the throne.

2. Ned/Cat 2.0 political marriage. I generally lean more in this direction. Jon and Sansa are both political characters and their plots/desires are leading them to Winterfell. They are both positioned to be leaders of the North - it makes sense that it would be together. I think there will be Northern conspiracies that will lead to a politically fractured North with the various Starks becoming figureheads for the different remaining houses vying for power (Manderly wanting Rickon on the Northern throne, Petyr/the Vale wanting Sansa, and miscellaneous others wanting the newly resurrected Jon). Rickon will probably die (I hate it but I can’t see another way for him 😭), his followers split between Jon and Sansa’s camps. Targ reveal will happen, which will lessen Jon’s claim. But he’s a god-like figure after his resurrection so he’ll still have followers and he’ll know he needs the power of the entire united North to fight the WW. Makes sense that some advisors would suggest a marriage instead of tearing the North apart, especially with Jon wanting to go off to face the WW threat immediately. Sansa will want peace and she’ll see sense in marrying a man she knows (who I’m sure LF (if he’s alive atp) will imply that Jon will accidentally die in the war anyway and leave it all to Sansa). So they get married to unite the North, despite being essentially strangers atp. As above, I don’t think we’ll get much of an actual love story, but they are suited to each other and I think by the end of the series we’ll come very full circle with Ned/Cat ‘love didn’t just happen, we built it’. And ofc with the final book being A Dream of Spring (i.e rebirth, new life, hope) I’m betting on a Stark baby.

Idk about the other characters ngl I don’t spend half as much time theorising on them 🙃

Jon will likely seek out Dany to face the WWs. I think it’ll be pretty similar to the show where she’ll be split between wanting to help and wanting to take KL. Maybe a bit of the politcal!Jon theory here to convince her (we do need that betrayal for love, which I 100% believe is Jon - maybe with him knowing the war/their plan will likely be her doom but he goes through with it to protect the North). Ultimately, I think she’ll die fighting the WWs in like an epic sacrifice. BUT while she dies, at least one of her dragons will survive. Which means that while Dany saved the world, she also doomed them to another terrible fate - having a grown, enraged, untamed dragon loose upon the world with the only woman able to control them gone. So, even though the WW will be defeated, in the remaining/following book there’s still a Big Bad to cause drama. I like the idea of Dany’s end being conflicting - she dies a true hero but also her great act is her worst act and has long lasting consequences for the survivors.

Cersei will probably try to capture Drogon in her greed for power and in doing so causes KL to burn (Drogon’s fire + all that hidden wildfire). This is actually based on nothing but vibes haha but I like her end being caused by her own hand and greed, reaching for more when she could have lived with the power she already had. I’m choosing to ignore the Valonquar bc idc I’m not GRRM.

Bran King of Westeros bc why not.

Arya’s ending has me lost. I think she def meets Lady Stoneheart and it will make her question her own pursuit for revenge. I don’t think Arya’s story is meant to end with her becoming a heartless professional assassin dedicating her life to killing the enemies of her family; she is so much more than that. Seeing LSH will make her witness the horror of being entirely consumed by hate and bloodshed. She’ll kill LSH out of mercy and it will also symbolise her putting to rest her own anger and desire for revenge. Idk where she’ll finally end up tho so she gets a wildcard and can do whatever she wants.

Andddd all of this is subject to change on any given day. I’m just rocking w whatever feels right atp bc god knows we’re never seeing Winds.

#me: this is my well thought out rational ideas for the ending! #me: writes a fanfic based on nothing but vibes #junk

[yuripoll]

KNOCKOUTS: How Do We Relationship? (2018 - ?)

How Do We Relationship? (or So you wanna go out, or...?) is an ongoing drama series by Tamifull about a couple who got together because they are the only lesbians they know.

Shy Miwa has always dreamed of finding love, but living in small-town Japan made finding the right match difficult—especially since she likes girls! Even going away to college didn't seem to help, until one day her outgoing classmate Saeko suggests they might as well start dating each other since it's not like either of them has other options. At first it seems like things won't work out as their personalities clash and misunderstandings abound. But when their casual friendship starts to become something more, Miwa begins to wonder—can a pragmatic proposal lead to true love? - MAL

ENG localised by Viz & JP available on Book Walker.

CWs under the cut. General severity rating: significant.

sex scenes + lots of talking about sex.

homophobia <- part of a characters backstory & fear of further homophobia plays a big part in her actions & thoughts processes. also theres this one guy who kind of sucks (generally an asshole to miwa, pushy about her relationship in ch11, also just generally a dick whenever he shows up tbh. cools off after ch16). ch24 a parent makes a comment about lesbians on tv around her gay daughter. ch73 homophobe says shes grossed out by lesbians bc of a bad experience w another girl. theres some internalised homophobia too.

(attempted?) outing <- as previously stated. theres this one guy who kind of sucks. just callously accuses her of dating a woman in front of randos. happens in ch13 and ch16.

hes not actually homophobic for the record he's just an asshole.

ableism(?) <- character backstory in ch16, parent takes her child to a doctor and tells them to make him normal. its not actually clear why she thought he's not normal, but ableism felt like the most appropriate label to give it.

jealousy <- in main couple. becomes a plot point from ch12 onwards, iirc gets mostly resolved at ~ch20? side character gets in a (toxic?) relationship w a woman who won't let him hang out w his girl bestie.

emotional infidelity <- icr the exact chapter # but one of the mains has lingering feelings for her first crush which causes Relationship Havoc. important to note that no actual cheating takes place.

child abuse (by both parents + complicit sibling) <- extreme academic pressure + very undisguised favouritism to an emotionally abusive degree.

suicidality / suicide baiting <- ch26, complicit sibling above tells her sister to die + character expresses that she would have died if it weren't for her friend reaching out to her. ch43 a character visibly going through a depressive episode says she wants to die. continues throughout depressive episode up til roughly ch50.

slut shaming <- one very minor incident during a fight in ch5 but mostly warning wrt ch38 where a character who sleeps around a lot gets judged by her fwb.

misogyny <- also ch38, mostly talking about the same instance. internalised misogyny brought up in one character backstory in ch64.

toxicity? or messiness? like...... SO messy

i literally can't stress enough how messy this gets

^ live batoto reaction

#knockouts #how do we relationship #im still like 3 chapters away from being 100% caught up but im just posting now #fingers crossed nothing massive happens in those 3 chapters lol #edit: uh. yeah there was stuff in those three chapters.

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING ALL STARS: Heroes and Villains : JUNE 1996

VIEW FROM RINGSIDE

By George Napolitano 

[The Bodyguard for Hire and his snake share a moment with their #1 fan: Tekla Benson.]

We would like to welcome everyone to another edition of WRESTLING ALL STARS. Since our last issue there have been quite a few changes in the wrestling world. For starters on January 22 in Fresno, CA, during the WWF Royal Rumble, the bizarre Goldust defeated Razor Ramon to win the WWF Intercontinental title. The following day in Las Vegas, Nevada, during a live Nitro Tv broadcast, Macho Man Randy Savage defeated Ric Flair to regain the WCW heavyweight title. Also on the card, Lex Luger and Sting defeated Harlem Heat to win the WCW tag team title. 

On January 27 in Philadelphia, PA, the Sandman’s reign in ECW came to a screeching halt when he was defeated by the mysterious Raven. Needless to say, Raven had plenty of help as the “new”  Fabulous Ones (Stevie Richards and the Blue Meanie) as well as Raven’s new squeeze were at ringside to lend their support. In the Sandman's corner was his manager. Woman. After the title loss, Woman took the microphone and asked the Sandman to join her in WCW. The Sandman looked around and hesitated for a moment. Then Too Cold Scorpio joined him in the ring. Now Woman offered to take the both of them to WCW just when it looked like they were going to accept her offer, they flatly refused and said they were never going to leave ECW. 

[Woman looks to be headed for WCW. Will she take any of her ECW talent with her?]

[Woman was in Sandman’s corner when he lost the ECW belt to Raven. Are their days together over?]

[Woman asked this man, Too-Cold Scorpio, if he wanted to come with her to WCW. Been there, done that, Scorpio replied, declining.]

In Las Vegas, at the WCW Clash of the Champions, Hulk Hogan and the Macho Man had two special guests at Ringside during their tag team battle against Ric Flair and the Giant. One was Kevin Green from the AFC Champion Pittsburgh Steelers, and the other was the former manager of the “Mega-Maniacs,” the lovely Miss Elizabeth. With Savage’s ego as big as it is you can bet that soon he will get jealous that his ex-wife, the lovely Elizabeth, is spending so much time with Hogan.

[Diesel and Lawrence Taylor at last year’s Wrestlemania press conference. It hardly feels a year has passed since LT made his spectacular WWF debut against Bam Bam Bigelow.]

The following week in Canton, OH after a Monday Night Nitro match between Ric Flair and the Hulkster, it certainly looked as if the Macho Man’s jealous rage was starting to burn! While Flair and Hogan battled toe to toe inside the ring, Jimmy Hart ran over to the other side and attacked Elizabeth. As soon as Hart grabbed Elizabeth, Arn Anderson immediately tossed his shoe into the ring toward Flair. 

Grabbing the show by the heels, Flair pounded right into Hulk Hogan’s eye! Flair then rolled Hogan over and pinned him in center ring! After the verdict was rendered, a bloodied Hogan rolled out of the ring and fell straight to the floor bleeding profusely from his eye. Elizabeth immediately ran over to try and comfort him, but as soon as she did the Macho Man pushed her away. Elizabeth didn’t know what to do, but she continued to kneel next to the fallen Hulkster. Finally Savage helped Hogan up and led him to the dressing room. Do you think that the Macho Man was jealous that Elizabeth was there to help the Hulk? 

Oooh..Yeah!

As far as the tag team title is concerned, you know that eventually Sting and Luger will have a major falling out. Luger is still very much a part of the Dungeon of Doom, while his partner, Sting, hates everyone else in that infamous group. It’s only a matter of time before their team is blown to smithereens!

[The Stinger is one-half of the WCW tag team champs, with Lex Luger. But Sting and Lex have not been seeing eye to eye as of late. How much longer can they work together as a team?]

While we are on the subject of tg teams, we must acknowledge that the awesome Road Warriors have reunited after a three-year layoff. Before Animal’s back injury caused the team to dissolve, the Legion of Doom (as they were then known) were the premier tag team in their sport. Now that they are back, the Road Warriors are determined to regain their rightful place at the top of the tag team empire. 

Razor Ramon is livid! Ramon can’t believe that he lost the Intercontinental belt to Goldust. Although Goldust had expert coaching from the sidelines from his “Director” Marlene, it was Goldust who applied the finishing touches inside the ring. NOW that Goldust has the gold Intercontinental belt strapped securely around his waist, it’s not going to be easy prying it off of him.

By winning the Royal Rumble for the second year in a row, Shawn Michaels earned the right to face the WWF champion at Wrestlemania XII in Anaheim, CA.

[Here’s a pair of partners who aren't getting along: “Macho Man” Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan.]

At the WWF Royal Rumble, the awesome Vader really made his presence felt in a very big way, but that pales in comparison to what he did the following night on Raw. After easily finishing off his opponent, Vader continued to apply his deadly Vader Bomb from the top rope. After witnessing several Vader bombs in paid succession, interim acting president Gorilla Monsoon came to ringside to try to stop the unstoppable Vader. After failing in his attempt to stop Vader, Monsoon grabbed the microphone and said that Vader was indefinitely suspended for his actions. Hearing this, Vader flew into a rage and immediately attacked the President. Sonn Monsoon found himself on the receiving end of several Vader Bombs. Eventually Razor Ramon and Shawn Michaels ran into the ring to try and stop Vader, but by the time help arrived the damage had already been done. Within minutes Monsoon was taken by ambulance to a local hospital to have his injuries treated. With Monsoon out of commission the WWF has named “Rowdy” Roddy Piper as its new president!

[Eddy Guererro has made a smooth transition between ECW and WCW. He still maintains a lot of his AAA (Mexican) style, however.]

Former ECW champion Shane Douglas is back after a short and unsuccessful stint in the WWF. While in the WWF Douglas called himself “Dean'' Douglas and critiqued the other wrestlers’ performances in the ring. Although Douglas talked a good game, he just couldn’t produce in the WWF. Whether he will regain the form that made him a star in the WCW still remains to be seen. 

Henry Godwinn has brought his cousin Phinneas T. Godwinn to the WWF, and they are being managed by the original country boy, Hillbilly Jim. When Hillbilly Jim was going strong he had several family members with him yoo. Hillbilly’s family consisted of his Uncle Elmer, Cousin Junior and Cousin Luke. Old time fans will recall that Uncle Elmer was even married in center ring at the Meadowlands Arena in New Jersey. But that wasn’t the first WWF wedding. That distinction goes to Butcher Vachon who got hitched on a Saturday Night Live segment during the glory days of WWF. The other WWF wedding was the marriage of Macho Man Randy Savage and his lovely valet, Miss Elizabeth, at SummerSlam in Madison Square Garden. Today, as we know, these two are back together again, but they are no longer married–as their marriage ended in a bitter divorce. 

[Bret Hart with belt. Will the Heartbreak Kid be his Wrestlemania opponent?]There has been quite a bit of talk in the wrestling world about the controversial “Billionaire Ted” skits with the “Huckster,” “The Nacho Man” and “Scam Gene” which have been appearing on the WWF telecasts. The skits poke fun at WCW Head Ted Turner and ex-WWF stars Hulk Hogan, Macho Man Savage, and Gene Okerlund. Actually the skits are very funny, but unfortunately WCW doesn’t think so. Now WCW has threatened the WWF with legal action if they continue  to air the “Billionaire Ted” skits. The war between WCW and the WWF has really heated up, and it’s obvious that the war is only going to intensify in nature in the next couple of months. That’s all for now. See you at ringside!

#magazine scan #magazine transcript #wwf #world wrestling federation #wcw #world championship wrestling #Ecw #extreme championship wrestling

[paso-liati]

What if Crowley isn’t actually a demon? (Or really more like, what if it doesn’t mean anything to be a demon - or an angel come to that - if you just stop being a company man. and just. be you)?

There is a line in the book about Crowley doing a long dive into a lake of boiling sulfur, as if he remembers Lucifer and the guys and the process of Damnation from guilt by association or whatever. But maybe it’s half memory, half guesswork. And idk if that’s still canon in TV version. If so, then he’s a demon (for whatever that’s worth) and maybe breaks this meta. or, maaaaybe not.

Anyway, we know angels can lie, like it’s physically possible for a lie to escape their mouth holes (Az, not that infrequently). We know angels can be sinister (The Metatron), callous (all the archangels except maaaybe Saraqael - I sense there may be hope for them from how they were acting when the metatron showed up). And we know demons can feel love and speak truth (Beez w Gabe, and Hastur was p fuckin blisting mad about Ligur’s eradication, so maybe it IS a funny old world where demons trust each other. And just don’t admit it).

Angels and demons are practically the same thing or at least some of them. A distinction without (much more than) aesthetic difference.

Angels and demons cooperate. Michael brings holy water to Hell. Eric (?) the disposable demon brings hellfire to Heaven. Crowley hot foots it in a church like someone barefoot on hot asphalt. But he and Eric walked thru heaven just fine. Crowley plays in Heaven like he owns the fuckin place. Is Heaven itself not consecrated ground?? Michael also walked thru hell no problems.

Aziraphale and Crowley fucking soul-slid past or through each other to switch corporations.

No problem. No exploding. Like changing clothes. Almost like the ethereal beings sliding past or through one another aren’t actually meaningfully different. I mean, maybe it's just them, but when Beez and Gabe faded away together, I don't get the impression it as separate unlinked entities. They just. shed their corporations and went of ethereally. togoether

More similarities: Demons and Angels all have magic and it’s p similar.

They look different but how much of that reflects True Form we never see. And anyway, they mostly all look funny to a human. They're basically cosplaying humans without really knowing what "humans" are. When you get a corporation, it's prob like trying to pick the shirt you like best when you've never actually. seen. a real shirt?

It’s like a different style of looking funny for angels and for demons but it’s like if you’re an angel you kit is beige. (Except notice the notable clothes-horse Gabriel always preferred grey and I think didn’t have any visible gold scars (from the war? Idk)). Demons go for darker hues in their kit but it’s all very teamish and I swear it feels like they just get traded and don’t get a choice of contract.

More more similarities: Every last one of them is an old soldier and it seems like when the conflict is arch-demon v arch-angel they try to xmas truce that shit and sing kumbaya as fast as they fucking can. Demon v demon or angel v angel over personal beef seems to be the conflicts they’re actually resolved to put some sweat into. Even doing armageddon just seemed like something to do because it was on the roster.

So, what if Crowley was mind wiped, exiled to hell with a change of his external presentation of clothes (wings + ability to shape shift) and… not really much else, and told he’s a demon. He’d prob believe it and adopt the stereotypical presentation the way Jim adopted a mild-mannered assistant shop-keeper aesthetic or the way Beez changed their face. Except for Gabriel being vain af, it doesn't seem like any of them are overly attached to how they look (to us). In fact I don't even think they recognise each other by that. Crowley makes himself look all sorts of ways and Aziraphale recognises him immediately. Az haunts a human woman and Crowley just knows it's him.

More, more, more suggestions of similarities; Muriel doesn't even seem to know Crowley is a demon until the archangels tell them (the line is something like, "that explains the grumpiness"). Muriel must have known Crowley was some kind of not-human, but just... nothing screamed "here there be demons."

SO:

I wonder, are some demons in hell actually just exiled, amnesiac angels who woke up there and were handed some kind facsimile/stereotype of an identity to kind of do something with somehow, and the job of apparently more or less just milling around the office looking busy?

I mean c’mon, is Eric really demonic? All the little fucker does is ask A Lot of annoying (but not entirely worthless) questions. Same for Beez’s concerned, loquacious adjutant who gets threatened with torture. Furfur’s great villainy seems to be ambition. Shax's as well, unless incompetence is a high sin

So anyway, I keep wondering if they're actually fundamentally different, or if they've just been kept in these rigid structures and conditioned to think they're different, and build up this whole mythos of being hereditary enemies and all that, and really they just live on different floors of the same building, and have different tastes in music

One thing against my theory is it seemed like the arch-angels in S1 could smell Crowley having been in the shop. Maybe? But then they seemed to maybe believe (with a heavy dose of suspicion) Az when he said it just a certain author's set of books (Archer maybe?)

#still feral #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #probably #I can't remember which books Az deflects with #and I can't pull up the show rn #I only have mobile internet until Tuesday #and Vodafone is def something Crowley messed with #bc it is sloooooooowww #sorry this is so long #call me paso loquatious #my meta