#so YOU can feel good about yourself. as if that does not do devastating lasting psychological damage to a young person lol.

[bunny-yan]

Hi! I'm a fan of your yan! Hero/reincarnated reader and I would like to ask if you could write a scenario where the reader has reincarnated again but this time instead of running away they just stay in the village, and in this life, Tasman doesn't end up searching for the reader because they haven't left the village. Because of this, the reader just stays in the village and just so happens to start a relationship with a kind farm boy.

So while Tasman is out marrying another mermaid/fairy queen/princess, the reader is just having the time of their life on a large farmhouse with their new lover. By the time Tasman finds out it's too late because he's already married and it would ruin his reputation if he ever decided to leave his wife for a (now married to a farm boy) reader because while he will stay a hero he won't be as respected by the kingdom for leaving a kind and respected woman, then trying to go for a married woman.

Reputation? Respect?? What does he care what the kingdom thinks of him when he’s the only thing standing between them and world devastation? The only reason he’s morally “good” in the eyes of the kingdom is because they follow the goddess’s teachings which so happens to be who he’s blessed by. The crimes he commits always have something to do with you so there is a much greater chance that you receive the backlash for his unhero like behavior than he does. They can’t hurt him, both because they physically can’t and they need to remain on his good side so they don’t die. But, you? They can hurt you.  In one of the realities he makes a deal with the king to legally imprison you so others turn a blind eye to his not so moral actions. A deal they’re willing to make if it’s for the greater good, ya know?  Tasman doesn’t care about other people. He barely considers them people. The only reason he plays nice and doesn’t take advantage of his supernatural abilities is because he believes it would be too much of a headache to completely upend life as you know it. He keeps up appearances of the righteous hero so he can comfortably do whatever he wants. The only person whose opinion matters to him is yours, though it doesn’t seem to mean much when your wants and desires stray from a future where the two of you are together or you’re alone. 

TW: suggests death

—

The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon. 

A feverish kiss was shared right before a frantic embrace as promises of his quick return caressed your ears. You held each other like it was the last time you’d ever get to. 

You promised you’d wait. 

Unwanted tears flooded your eyes and you couldn’t help but feel selfish because you knew why he had to go. To want him to stay by your side when he was destined for something greater, the destined savior that would be revered when his mission was successful, because it had to be successful. Because he was going to return to you. 

So you let him go. 

Waiting long after his caravan disappeared from the dirt paved road, you remembered his words, his vow. It was enough to ease the burden on your heart for now. It had to be. 

Life was never quite the same without him. 

The first year, you’d look to every corner as if he’d appear, every closed door as if you were waiting for him to burst through and wrap his arms around you and promise something new. That he’d never leave you now that his mission was fulfilled. 

It was a hope that was too soon. 

You felt anxious the second year. Attempting to live as if such desperate yearning wasn’t what consumed your mind the minute you opened your eyes. You worked, ate, slept, moved through life as if someone else was living for you. 

By the third, your loneliness had reached a peak. It was suffocating. His memory, the touches that no longer lingered, words that you’d play over and over in your mind to convince yourself to trust him. To trust that he was coming back. To chase away the anger that would turn into guilt, knowing full well why he couldn’t visit you. You’d convinced yourself that sending letters would compromise his position. That he would if he could, but fighting the demon king was already too much of a burden. You didn’t want to strain him further with your selfish expectations. You’d wait. You’d waited this long, you could wait a little longer. 

The fourth was bright with celebration. It rekindled a new hope in you as people praised him, thanked him, worshipped the ground he walked on for saving you from the disaster. Joy was bright in everyone’s faces as they danced and laughed now that the dark cloud had finally lifted. You clasped your hands together, fingers fidgeting as you looked along the horizon, waiting. Almost every day you waited, impatient but understanding that there was probably plenty he had to do now that the war was over. He couldn’t just rush back to you. So you waited. Long after the sun disappeared. Long before the cicadas grew so loud you couldn’t bear to think. 

You were treated like a widow. 

Five years had passed with no word. People tried to be careful whenever they discussed the boy who’d grown up in this town. Everyone knew the relationship the two of you had, which is why they were especially careful when mentioning his marriage. Occasionally someone would slip up and you couldn’t help the flinch that would rip through your body.

You couldn’t understand. You waited. You did what you said you’d do, so why? Did the promise the two of you made mean nothing? You couldn’t help the days you locked yourself in your room, unable to bear the heartbreak drenched in grief. 

The town was quiet on nights like those. Grateful for the cicadas that almost drowned that haunting wail. 

It was too soon to think about a new relationship. 

Sure, it had been six years since you’d last seen him, but you still felt an ache in your soul and it was too new of a wound to hide with friendly smiles. 

He was someone you’d grown up with. He was well aware of your relationship with Tasman. It made it even harder. You don’t know why you accepted his offer to go out on a date. Maybe it was the persistence or if you had grown tired of hurting with no relief. 

You wondered if it would remind you of him. If you’d compare the two, and you were right. But he was nothing like Tasman. The more time you spent with him, the easier it was to recognize he was nothing like your first love. 

It was a relief. 

For the first time you thought, maybe you could move on.

You began to smile again. He pointed it out on one of your dates. The two of you would often camp out wherever the sun shined the brightest, content to feel its ray on your skin as you held each other and talked. His observation didn’t cause the knee jerk reaction you thought it would. 

The raging pain from memories of who you were before. The dull ache you carried that seemed to sting a little less with each passing day. 

You looked at him and finally realized what he meant to you.

The man who brought back your smile. The one who helped you realize your would had scarred nicely.

It wasn’t much. He couldn’t offer you the world, but what he did offer was worth more. He was kind and thoughtful, he listened, and his flaws touched you a lot deeper than you thought capable. There was no question, no hesitation when he asked you to marry him. 

For the first time, you truly began to remember what happiness felt like. 

It happened during the night. On a day you would never have assumed would hold as much importance as it did. 

Your eyes were forced open as a violent cough racked through your body. Sitting up from the bed, you felt a pounding in your skull. 

It was supposed to be night. A strange uneasiness crept in your body at how bright your room was. 

You climbed out of bed when you realized he wasn’t laying next to you, shuffling to the window and feeling your heart stop at the sight of the barn. It was engulfed in flames. 

You screamed his name as you ran down the stairs, knowing he would’ve woken you if he realized something was wrong. Gasping at the sight of flames spreading through your house, you ran to the back door to escape the heat that was dangerously creeping towards you. 

Slamming the back door open, you called for him again, rushing towards the barn before coming to a dead halt when you realized it was too late for the hose. You would have to watch helplessly as his family’s home burned to the ground. 

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you? Did something happen to him?

Anxious fear told you  to do something. That you needed to find him. You didn’t know where you would go or who to ask for help, but everything else could wait. At least until you knew he was okay. 

“Lover,” a familiar voice said, causing you to whip around. .

It felt as if time had stopped as a look of realization passed across your features when the stranger walked close enough for your eyes to make out his features. What was he doing here? Standing still, watching you as if this was completely normal.

Tasman.

You couldn’t help the dread you felt at the smile on his face. The familiar smile he always wore. A smile that didn’t ackowledge the dumbfounded horror on your face or the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes that stung from the smoke or the unwilling realization that there was no chance you’d ever see him again. 

His eyes seemed alight with something sinister and the flames that licked the barn behind you only heightened the unearthly glow in them that grew as he came closer. 

This wasn’t the reunion you imagined. It wasn’t one you wanted anymore. Why was he here? Where was he?

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, your body too limp to resist his affections as he squeezed you tightly. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon, but despite the crackling flames that lit the sky, they were quiet. 

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere hero x reader #yandere hero #yan!tasman

[pepprs]

definitely not an original thought but so many submissions on the aita tumblr aregenuinely so depressing. like “aita for not coming out to my parents when they have repeatedly demonstrated that doing so would be unsafe” “aita for standing up for myself in an abusive relationship” “aita for having a critical thought about someone who was cruel to me” good god.

#purrs #relatedly… and not to say this but. i truly truly truly think it is sickening how many ppl have emotionally unavailable / abusive / whatever #parents like how did this happen to so many of us. i think that’s the reason that we think things like this are our fault. because fucking #ADULTS WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO NURTURE AND TAKE CARE OF US made US take care of THEM. it’s that meme about having beef with a 5 year old but its #so unfunny in this context like. why are you forcing your child to be someone they are not or sacrifice their identity / desires / whatever #so YOU can feel good about yourself. as if that does not do devastating lasting psychological damage to a young person lol. #this is why with every day that goes by i think more and more that iprobably shoudl not have kids. i wanted to so bad a few yrs ago but it’s #like… god. even if i tried my absolute hardest to not emotionally harm a child like that i do not want to risk making eben the smallest #mistake. i don’t want to subject someone who didn’t even ask for it to a lifetime of feeling like this. lolllll #delete later #<- in part bc im abt to go practice drivin GB for the 3rd time so my thoughts aren’t clear rn imjust mad about this. #like… kids are YOUNG! they don’t have emotional.. whatever it is to shoulder their own emotions and then a whole ADULT’S. and it’s so sosick #the way that so many kids have had to and STILL have to. and how it’s a cycle and all that. and the only way to break it is not having kids! #* sometimes more than one adult’s not to mention other kids in some situations. like good god. it’s so so so sick. #ask to tag

[galedekarios]

more gale & tara epilogue stuff

tara's epilogue conversation is so extremely devastating if gale sacrificed himself. since i can't bring myself to play it, i thought i'd look at it in the files and share what i find here.

tara can be found at camp and this is how the conversation with the player begins:

Tara the Tressym: Oh, hello, darling. I was hoping to see you. Withers informed me about this little get-together and I thought I'd show my whiskers.devnote Tara the Tressym: I can almost feel Gale here. Among his friends - in you. Some part of him remains, doesn't it? devnote: Gale has died so she's very sad and nostalgic.

this devnote is repeated for almost every line for tara in this convo.

from here, the player has various options to reply. i'll be going through them in order.

the first is one where the player points out the magically conjured image of himself that gale left behind in case of his permanent death:

Player: Well, his magical ghost is still here, if that's what you mean. Tara the Tressym: That thing's no more than a shadow of the real man. A nonsense. Though it captures some of his more insufferable qualities...

the second option is the player saying that they are feeling something similar, a presence that reminds them of gale:

Player: It does, Tara. I can feel his presence too. Tara the Tressym: A crackling in the air, isn't it? That flair of magic and mischief.

despite the tragedy of it all, i do love tara describing gale's presence as 'that flair of magic and mischief'. it's so very sweet and sad, especially remembering just long she's known him.

perhaps here she remembers the boy who accidentally set the rose bush on fire and cried, just as elminster does. or perhaps the boy who summoned a magma mephit, causing chaos, but also making a lifelong friend.

the third option is to tell tara that you miss gale, too, and this honestly made me tear up:

Player: I miss him too, Tara. Tara the Tressym: That's good. We should miss him. He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love. Tara the Tressym: Oh, what I wouldn't give to snuggle up on his lap one more time. Just once would do. Player: Would a fuss from me make you feel better?

"He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love."

PROUD AS A PEACOCK BUT... MY LITTLE LOVE

M Y L I T T L E L O V E

this is obviously completely fine so i'll continue with the fourth option:

Player: You can snuggle up in my lap later, if you like. Tara the Tressym: Oh, I couldn't possibly... unless... well, perhaps it's not a terrible idea. Gale would be quite pleased to know we've made friends, wouldn't he?

it's clear that tara needs some comfort. despite her stiff upper lip approach to most news devastating to her and the thin veneer of control she puts on here.

the fifth option is expressing that you know how she feels:

Player: I know how you feel. Tara the Tressym: Ah, to lose the one you love the most. What a terrible thing.

the sixth option is rather callous and tara's response to it once again heartbreaking:

Player: Alas, you can't. Tara the Tressym: No. Not in this life, at least.

the last option again shows tara's true grief at what happened:

Player: He's gone. We have to accept that. Tara the Tressym: I suppose we do. But I certainly wish we didn't.

most of these different options lead to the end of the conversation with tara, where she invites the player to visit her and morena in waterdeep:

Tara the Tressym: Perhaps you'd be willing to come meet Gale's mother, some time? She misses him so - and I know it would do her heart a world of good to discuss her son with someone who knew him as he was.

again, the player has various choices to either accept or refuse her invitation. i won't go through them all and you can read for yourself in the screenshot i provided. but i do want to look at these two options here:

Tara the Tressym: Perhaps you'd be willing to come meet Gale's mother, some time? She misses him so - and I know it would do her heart a world of good to discuss her son with someone who knew him as he was. Player: I'd love to, but I'm leaving Faerûn after tonight. Tara the Tressym: Well if you ever come back do look us up in Waterdeep. Surname 'Dekarios'. I'd enjoy the chance to reminisce about the good man we knew.

i'm once more reminded of that one line in elminster's letter and i feel so sad for morena:

Does he live within his mother’s ageing heart, weeping for those roses? 

2.

Player: I'll consider it. Tara the Tressym: See that you do. We'd love to have you. Things have been rather quiet without himself cluttering up the place.

which made me think about gale's line that his tower has never been so free of clutter ever since he had to deal with his condition.

anyhow, i hope this was interesting to some of you!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #gale epilogue spoilers #ch: gale dekarios #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[vscabarca]

immediate regret - pablo gavi

summary: gavi and you fought after a game, so you made him leave your apartment.

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing

———

„Can't you just shut the fuck up for once and not be so annoying? Bother someone else." Gavi yelled through the apartment, making your body flinch at his words.

„i'm just trying to help you!" You spoke in a distressed voice.

„i don't fucking need your help." He was still angry, yelling around the room without even looking at his girlfriend, throwing his hands into the air.

„Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?" You asked him in disbelief, your voice cracking mid sentence.

Barcelona lost against Real Madrid in el Clásico, the most important game of the season. Additionally to that, Gavi received his fifth yellow card, meaning he'll be suspended for the next game.

You knew how hot-headed he could become after bad games, but this was new. All you've wanted to do is make him feel better, so you tried to talk to him. The two of you had your arguments, yes, but he had never yelled at you before.

Gavi felt immediate regret in seeing you stand there almost in tears. He was quick in approaching you, trying to apologize to his girlfriend.

You backed up, feeling a familiar tightness in your throat as your vision became blurry.

Quietly, but with a firm voice you spoke to him.

„Leave my apartment." It wasn't much what came out, but enough to make Gavi widen his eyes in devastation.

„Pero nena... please, i didn't mean it like that." he argued with pity but you couldn't stand seeing him right now.

„No, i dont wan't you here tonight, not after what you've said." Your voice trembled but you still wanted him gone. Maybe that way you both could cool off a bit.

„Look, i'm sorry" Gavi wanted to embrace you in his arms, but you interrupted him.

„Just leave Gavi, i can't see you right now." Tears were streaming down your face, making it hard to breathe.

He looked at you once more with nothing but regret in his eyes and left your apartment with a huff.

In the car he scolded himself for being so reckless with you, trying to figure out why he said what he said. His temper after games often led to arguments between you two, always bickering about how gavi couldn't control his emotions very well.

You felt like time would do both good. You knew somehow you would fix this mess but didn't want to discuss this in the heat of the moment.

———

Both slept worse than usal the next days, and the guilt ate Gavi up alive. His practice suffered from your fight, his mind was often somewhere else, thinking how to apologize to you.

He spoke to Pedri, getting some helpful advice in return and made his way back to your apartment.

You were currently watching a series to distract yourself from having no contact with Gavi for the last two days.

The knock on your door made your head turn as you did not expect anyone today. You opened the door, revealing Gavi on the other side.

He looked at you with a warm, small smile. In his hands were tulips.

„Can i come in?" Gavi asked carefully, waiting for your answer.

„Yeah come in." You answered, smiling slightly too.

The truth is you missed him very much, you hated fighting with him.

As you got seated, he placed the flowers onto the coffee table.

„you know, buying me flowers won't make me forgive you pablo." You raised your eyebrows at him.

„i know that, but i saw them and still wanted to give you something in addition to my apology." he replied chuckling. „i behaved like an idiot. i should've never screamed at you, you just wanted to help me. You know what a hot-headed kid i can be and I'm very sorry i took my anger out on you amor." he continued, holding your hands in his.

You smiled up at him, realizing he meant it.

„i know it means much to you, but i just want to help you with whatever you're dealing with. You could've just told me to leave you alone and i would've given you some time." you replied sincerely.

„i'm sorry amor. i promise it won't happen again. besides i had the worst two days without you. Am i forgiven?" Gavi asked once more as he scooted closer to you.

„Mhm. i've missed you too." you answered and leaned in for a kiss.

Gavi leaned in too, placing his plump lips on yours.

„i've missed your cuddles." you said as he pulled you down to him and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

„Then lets watch something and cuddle." Gavi placed a sweet kiss on your head and snuggled closer to you if that was even possible.

#gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #fc barcelona #football x reader #barça #fermin lopez #gavi one shot #football one shot

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?” 

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #john wick fic #congrats you fought john wick and lived! #i love you allllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[serawritesthings]

SPELLBOUND

Pairing | Legolas x Reader Summary | Your bittersweet love will surely endure until the last of your days. Word Count | 1.1k A/N | Hello lovelies! Ever since I was young, my love for Tolkien has been my greatest inspiration when it came to writing and world-building. But, also all the fantastic writers out there that had me plastered to my computer at 4 in the morning, staying up all night reading wonderfully written stories about all the characters. So, because of this, I am taking a tiiiiiiny step into the community with this short story, hoping some of you will enjoy it. If you do, I'll happily write some more, and if you have an idea you would like me to write, feel free to send me a message!

“Our love cannot be.” 

Her words had echoed in his mind since the moment they left her blushed lips, at first only mindless words lingering in his mind as he stared thoughtlessly, then excessively nagging at him with every chance. Obsessively and utterly spellbound, he could only stare into your teary eyes that never hid from him, taking your trembling lips to his longing ones in a silent protest and carefully surrendering to the prospect of a love that might be possible if you loved hard enough. 

How naive you were, for you said the words too late. What good did it bring to only now speak of what you should have said a long time ago?  Perhaps it could be a testament to yourself that you at least tried to cease what you had, however weak the attempt might have been. Furthermore, you might have wished for him to be stronger than you, more sensible–but perhaps you were too alike in that sense.

“How can you say those words when you already know how my heart longs for you?” You could only close your eyes as he spoke, words dripping like honey over your troubled mind. Momentarily, you bathed in the golden glow, feeling the tenderness soothe the aches and hurt. How could you give him an answer that wouldn’t cause pain when his very words pierced you so–when his care for you extended further than you could have ever expected?

Devastated by the uncertainty that clouded your mind, shaking fingers jerked away from their hold on the silk that covered his forearms. You gasped when his hands didn’t hesitate to grasp yours, placing your palms against his heart that thumped heavily beneath the layers of fabric. 

“Do you feel that?” He spoke softly, leaning his head down to try and meet your avoidant eyes as his other hand found your cheek. “It does not beat like this for anyone but you.”

Unshed tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession, overwhelmed by the idea of being loved by someone who would surpass the short time you had yet to live. Time was a cruel hand, one you couldn’t help but fear deeply, for he, bound to centuries, had a timeless plight while you were made to fade in the fleeting light.

“Our love is naught but a flame caught between two winds,” you say in sorrow, eyes closed to spare yourself the guilt you would feel if you gazed into his sky-blue eyes, the usual vibrancy muted–as if the stars that danced within them had momentarily dimmed. “It’s fragile and fleeting, how will it last?”

“Have I not pledged my heart to you?” Legolas implored, his words dulled with sorrow at the distress residing in your eyes. “Have I not deserved to relish in the warmth you bring me?” 

“Legolas…” He heard you whisper, a gentle plea that fell on deaf ears as he drew you closer, meeting your lips in a longing kiss. In a stolen breath, he reveled in the taste as his forever gentle hands cradled your face, fingers tracing the delicate contours as if to etch it into memory–into the fabric of his immortal being. 

With each passing heartbeat, the glade witnessed two souls so desperate yet unsure, and as it held its breath, the air shimmered around them in the quiet night. Like a silent whisper on your skin, his fingers lighted a path like fire as they caressed, refusing to let you pull away. Oh, how you wanted to. Yet, your heart clamped something so fiercely when the thought passed through your mind, the feeling not far from making you double over in anguish from having to be apart. 

The desperation in his embrace pulled at your heartstrings, urging you to cast away the dark thoughts that rained over you endlessly and lose yourself in his arms that wound their way around you–shielding you from hesitation and fear.

Yet tentative, your response wasn’t passive; fingers seeking refuge in the strands of his silken hair, and with each strand that slipped through your touch, only felt all the more consumed.

“You say it can’t be, yet why can’t my body stop aching for your touch even though you are right here, already in my arms?” His voice was a soft murmur in the night, lips parting for only a moment when speaking to find yours, then again, refusing to let you protest. “Mortal you may be, yet my heart yearning does not know the confines of time.”

Your gaze softened by his sincerity, voiced by her uncertainty. “I can not help but worry about what happens when my time passes. What aching memories will it leave you with…” You trailed off as the thought crossed your mind, but as you felt Legolas brush a strand of hair away from your tear-stained cheek, a soft determination shone through his glossy eyes. 

“Then surely I will pass, for I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life in a world where I can not gaze upon the wonders of your spirit that light up the darkest corners of my soul.” Yet melancholy, the words rang true as his voice had a slight undertone of acceptance that confused you. 

He knew that when the burden of your parting would become too heavy, he would transcend the sorrow that bound him to this earthy realm and leave all behind in hopes of once more feeling your touch on his graying skin. He came to welcome the idea a long time ago. Yet, the sadness in your eyes hurt him terribly, and his mind didn’t know how to lessen your anguish and recover the gleam that continuously resided deep within them, at times almost bursting with wonder.

“Why do you speak so indifferently? The thought does nothing but pains me something so fiercely.” He only gave you a soft smile in return, grasping your cheeks between his palms, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin underneath it.

“Can you not see, my love?” Placing his forehead against yours, his eyes pierced yours warmly, reassuring you that he only spoke of the truth. “In the realm beyond, we will once more find the embrace of one another, and I will continue to love you as I do now."

“Fret not, meleth nín.” Placing a tender kiss on your teary cheek, he whispered in your ear, bringing your head to rest wearily in the crook of his neck. “For you shall have me for the remaining part of your days, and when your departure becomes a burden too heavy to bear, I shall find you amidst the stars.”

#legolas x reader #lotr x reader #lord of the rings imagine #legolas imagine #lotr imagine #Lord of the rings #Legolas #legolas greenleaf #lotr

[sanemisstalker]

Idk why but like I really wanna die in somebody’s arms- it’s like such a beautiful but sad way to die?

(**kny spoilers**)

kinda like how Mitsuri died in Obanai’s arms bc that was such a heartbreaking moment but it also was kinda sweet at the same time? Idek anymore 😭 ty for your time btw <3

Broooo-

I hate to be that guy and point to your username, but I think dying in Giyu's arms would be the worst emotionally. I think it'd be actually devastating.

CW// Death / Implied Major Character Death/ Implied Suicide/ Angst

A part of me reasons that Sanemi could handle it about as well as he handles anything else. Poorly, but he'd continue like he always does. That's all he can do because he thinks anything else is a show of extreme cowardice and he doesn't deserve to feel that way.

But when you're in his arms, dying, more color is dissapearing, and he's fighting to see your face past the tears- he's wailing and screaming, and trying to command you to come back. That normally works. Maybe he's gotten scary enough to scare death, but no. He'll never be enough to fend off the inevitable.

I don't think Shinobu would be much different. She has an astonishing amount of hate in her heart. Enough to patch up the wound long enough for her to pretend it isn't there anymore.

You'd be lying in her arms, and all of it would be beating against her head. Every word you ever said, every piece of medical knowledge she had, and for her to be the only one able to know just how incapable she was of saving you- She'd start begging a higher power, probably, begging you to be strong in her stead- save yourself because she's not strong enough.

Rengoku wouldn't cry until you fully slipped away, doing all he could to muster his voice flat- you needed comfort, obviously. He knew it wouldn't heal the wounds, nothing could, but he was still denying that to keep his smile wide.

You wouldn't be in his arms but on his lap, his hand sweeping hair from your fading eyes. I think He'd sit there for a while. For too long, just trying to prevent tears, because you wouldn't make a move to wipe them.

Tengen would hurt, bad. You're in his arms, and he's rocking you, and he's having a panic attack- He'd deny it the hardest. For the longest.

There's a notable difference, Tengen understood, between the weight of a breathing person, and a dead body. He knew that difference the second you slumped against his shoulder, and his knees hit the ground. He'd try to wake you up, tell you to stop the act, it isn't funny, because God, what else could he do but joke in a half witted prayer to hear your laugh.

Giyu....

Fuck me , man. I don't think he's emotionally strong enough to handle anymore loss. He's already disliked by his peers, by himself, god, and everyone who breathed. You were the only person willing to talk with him- to waste time on him. To love him.

The imagery for this one is vivid- the rain. Ironic. Even in his own element he couldn't save you. He's hunched over you and mimics your shallow breathes, protecting your face from the down pour.

You can't get the words out to say how much you really, deeply love him. He keeps shushing you, trying to conserve your energy- He's panicking, too, hands unsure of their need. There were so many wounds, he couldn't possibly tend to them all.

The poor boy would whisper a beg- to let him go in your stead. He couldn't be left alone to survive again. Not again. He had too many lives he was carrying on his shoulders. Too many souls he was responsible for reaching heaven with, and he was never that good a man.

He's not asking God, he's asking you. And how cruel you were to not let him die.

'I can't- Y/N, I can't do this again.' He'd sound close to vomiting. A certain animalistic sound to his voice. Guttural, almost. 'You-You-God- no-no-n-'

But you'd be gone, unable and unwillingly to give him to permission he so desperately needed. Not deserved, He'd remind himself.

He'd all but rot next to you. The second your last breathe loosed, he'd stop breathing, too. Days would go by. Unmoving. Unfeeling.

I truly believe he'd die with you that day.

#demon slayer x reader #hashira x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #giyuu x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #tengen x reader #tengen x you #shinobu x reader #shinobu x y/n

[crash-and-cure]

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

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

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

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

Word count: 14K

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Masterlist

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

But people didn’t stop loving him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s enough to drive any man insane. 

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

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

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

He’s taught you well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The hell are you on Jer?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t matter.

They don’t matter. 

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

…Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least… not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I know but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m doin’ just fine.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… He really shouldn’t be thinking like this… 

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

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

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

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

So you took it… he finds it very interesting. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted that. He wanted you. 

And now he has you.

And nothing will ever take you away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

He already knows you don’t got the best relationship with your folks but understands you couldn’t get out of going without raising questions. But if it went bad it saves him the trouble from having to talk you out of visiting them too often. 

Truly it makes his heart soar the way you light up a bit upon seeing him and he hopes 

And then it goes to shit. 

He sees you lazily look around the room, probably trying to figure out a tactful way to get rid of them all. But then your brow furrows, and you give the entire room a once over again, and then you seem to look intently at every single person in the room as though you’re tallying them up. And once you finish that, it only seems to distress you more. 

You’ve got that same look in your eye when you’re reading your mysteries, with your brow furrowed and your hands to your lips. He’s confused as to what may be going on in that pretty little head of yours, until he looks around and remembers that ALL of his buddies are here now.

Something that shouldn’t be if he had really handled the ones that had apparently squealed the two of you out to Parker.

Huh… you figured it out just like that, he thinks. This is honestly what he gets for choosing a smart one like you, but he can't say he’s not a little proud that you were able to do so. Besides it’s not much of a choice when it’s meant to be. 

He takes one last puff off his cigar before stamping it out into the accompanying ashtray, after all no use in trying to pretend anymore. You're cracking a case wide open in your head and he figures there ain’t no point in drawing it out for much longer. 

“Hey Charlie,” he draws out, and your eyes snap back to him, apparently terrified to be proven right. 

“Yeah EP?” he answers, always the good friend who would go along with any plan regardless of how he personally felt about it if it meant getting him back on track. 

“Why don’tcha do that voice,” he says smiling a bit as his friends goes a bit ashen at the request. “Always gets a good laugh.”

Charlie thinks he’s subtle when he steals a glance your way. He is not. 

“You sure ‘bout that EP,” he asks, nervously swallowing, his eyes begging to not have to do this. Which gets the attention of all of them, and some of them shift uncomfortably at what’s about to go down, downing the last of their drinks and nervously gathering their things hoping to make a quick getaway. The ones who don’t know are looking at Charlie anticipating a good laugh but they quickly pick up on how worried he looks and quickly follow suit, figuring nothing good would come of this. 

Elvis only has eyes for you though, morbidly curious as to how you’re going to react, the same way your eyes are firmly fixed on him, no doubt fearing that you’re right. He almost calls it off at that point, but call it what you want he believes that once this secret is over and done with, the two of you will be all the stronger for it and there will be absolutely nothing to hold you back.  

“Who am I talkin’ to?” Elvis asks Charlie all the while making full eye contact with you. Contrary to what you may believe he doesn’t in fact enjoy hurting you with these hard truths, he’s just not as skilled as you in breaking them to you in a more delicate manner.

Charlie lets out a deep, tired sigh before, without any more preamble, he says, “You’re talking to the man that gave the world Elvis Presley,” in his most perfect Parker impression. 

Your face fully falls. 

Once upon a time you had told him how sometimes people need to be guided by another to get what they wanted. And he knows for a fact that you wanted him, it was only your damn job and it’s rules that held you back. That’s where his head was at after that fucking anniversary party.

You are the only woman alive who can proudly say she’s broken his heart not once, not twice, but three times. The first time being when you threatened to switch him to another therapist, but luckily he saw right through that ploy. 

The next time when you had the gall to lie to his face about where you were going. When you started speaking about Saturday, he could feel his heart flutter a bit, truly believing you were gonna invite him to meet your folks. Even now he could imagine how it would have felt to be offered such a thing, to be brought home and be introduced as your boyfriend proper. Even after you brought up your friends he could have dealed with that if only it would bring him much more into your life. Only for you to bring him back down to Earth with your refusal to bring him.

The last time was when you couldn’t say you loved him back. God was that a kick to the chest because he may not be the smartest man, but even he knew that it meant one of two things. Either you wanted to say it and you couldn’t for whatever reason… or you didn’t love him and you were just feeling particularly guilty about it that day. ‘

He couldn’t accept that though. Something in your life was preventing you from saying it back and really he knew there could only be one thing. Was it really so monstrous to remove it if it left you feeling like this?

You love him, he knows that you do and you only need a push in the right direction in order to admit it.  

And if you didn’t… he couldn’t afford to think like that. 

So he had to push through. Had to do what was necessary. Had to believe you love him. 

Had to believe he was still worth loving.

He knew words meant nothing at the end of the day (you taught him as much) he had to find a way to prove you did love him and that you weren’t in it for yourself. 

The only question was how.

After he sees you leave that place, looking devastated, it takes everything within him to not take you in his arms. But he has a goal in mind and he has to figure out where exactly you're at mentally in order to push through. 

For all he knows you’re on your way to pack up your office right now, but he has to be sure. 

Red tries to stop him before he gets out of the car, but ends up backing off, with a single glare his way. He waits for a bit before approaching the modest looking house after you had left, and knocks on the door, and once it opens he has to remind himself who he’s doing this for, and knock that fucker’s lights out. 

Even when he has never met them before, people weirdly enough have a lot of trust in him. And Mark Whatever his last name is, proves to be no different. Elvis greets him with his first name and a quick hug as though they were old friends and lets himself into the house as Mark still gapes at the doorway. 

He finds a den with two identical mugs on a coffee table, and he finds a very familiar lipstick color on one of them (how could he not there’s still a ring of it around his cock). Mark shuffles his way into the sitting room, absolutely struck dumb by Elvis' presence, and Elvis finds it hard to believe that he ever saw him as a rival for your love. 

Mark notices the mugs still on the coffee table and makes a motion to grab them, stammering out an apology about the mess. Before he could do so, Elvis notices the light color from your mug and hides a self satisfied smirk at that. Where once you only took your coffee black, your tastes have now become closer aligned to his own. 

Elvis puts a hand down on the mug as he says, “Why dontcha take a seat right down there Mark?” It’s kind of pathetic really seeing a man take orders from a stranger in his own house, but it serves Elvis’ purposes all the better. And with the way Mark awkwardly takes a seat it’s apparent that he is still flustered at Elvis’ presence in his den. 

Good, he thinks. Should keep him honest.

“Wh-what’s this about?” Mark asks, uneasily.

“It’s about our good friend, Y/N of course,” he says as though it were so obvious.

“O-Oh, uh, she was over here not too long ago,” he stammered out, before his brows furrowed even more confused. “How do you know her?” 

“Through her daddy,” Elvis lies coolly. “I don’t know if you noticed but she’s been a bit outta sorts recently. And I’m hopin’ you could help me figure out what’s been botherin’ her.”

“I-I don’t think it’s my place to say,” Mark sputters out.

“C’mon Matt,” he says, leaning forward just a little bit to really sell the concern. “You can talk to me ‘bout this,” echoing your own words from way back when. 

If he noticed the wrong name he didn’t say anything as he nervously looks down at his own hands, before muttering out a soft “she’s been having some trouble with a patient of hers.”

“Huh…” he says, raising his brows a bit at this. “She tell you who?”

“She would never tell me anything like that,” he quickly defends and Elvis relaxes a bit. “But ummm… she-she just needed some advice as to how to handle this patient. And I-I let her know that whatever consequences she imagines would happen, are not as bad as the reality. So it would be better to act now as opposed to later.”

“Hmmm…” he hums, and just like that he can already feel you slipping through his fingers. But he holds on to that look you had leaving. How distressed you looked at the idea of having to drop him all together, but he also knows you’re a tough one that can make the right decisions, even when they’re hard, and that’s why he loves you so. “Tell me Max, what would you do if you were in her situation?” he asks even though he already figures the answer.

“Personally… I would’ve dropped the patient a long time ago,” he says without any remorse. He says this next part so coldly that he finds it hard to imagine that you have ever had anything in common with him save for your chosen field. “Not just because it is the right thing to do, but because, for as little information as I have about the situation, this patient is simply not worth all the grief they’re causing her.” 

But it’s not me, Elvis wanted to defend. It’s her work, if it weren’t for that gettin’ in the way she wouldn’t have to be so goddamn worried all the time. 

“And did you tell her that?” Elvis asks, worried as to what may be brewing in that little head of yours if this son of a bitch has been whispering in your ear.

“God no,” the professor says. “I told her to do what she can live with. But I know her,” he says leaning back, sure in his opinion, though unaware that these words perhaps just saved his life. “She’s gonna make the right choice on her own or it won’t mean much.”

For all his degrees, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, is all Elvis can really think in that moment. He can’t possibly even begin to understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and how in fact he is the right choice for you, as you’re his. 

If a baby was about to walk into a pool, would he just let it happen because it was it’s choice? That’s downright evil in his book. Sometimes you need to make the decision for others and step in when they’re about to make the wrong ones. And if that’s what he has to do to for you then goddamnit he will. 

“Well, I think I best get going,” Elvis would say after contemplating this man's words. He knew how impressionable you can be, so he needs to act fast to undo whatever poison this asshole put in your head.

“O-oh of course,” he stutters. “Umm.. thank you for stopping by today.” 

“Now Mark, that fancy title you got, tells me you’re a smart man, right?” Elvis says a hand on his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. 

“...yes?” he answers tentatively.

“Now this story, I think it best you keep it to yourself.” he says, and he watches the man's brow furrowed in confusion. “Afterall I don’t think you wanna be known in your field for blabbin’ anything to anyone who just walks in your door.” 

“Of course not,” he says uneasily. “Thank you for your concern for Y/N, Elvis. Hopefully she’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Course,” Elvis would reply, holding out his hand for the professor, which Mark takes. “And please, call me Mr. Presley,” and on that confusing note he turns around and heads back to the car. 

He stews on that asshole’s words the whole way home, no one daring to talk about it until he did. He wants to trust 

But he knows if he lets this stand and doesn’t interfere, you’re going to make the wrong choice. Ultimately he decides to make the choice for you for your own good. He’s let chance rule his life for far too long, so he’s gotta make his own luck.

He cycles through just about everything he knows about you and tries to figure out how it could possibly help him.

And then he remembers how you once told him how your worst fear is seeing your patients fall back to their old ways, especially with those who abused them. 

Just the thought of going back to Parker makes him sick to his stomach. For as much as he loves you, he’s not willing to do anything that will bring that bastard back into the fold, and he doubts you would want that either. But he almost resolves himself to do it until he’s pulling into the driveway and sees Charlie’s car. 

And then he’s reminded that Charlie always did do a pretty spot on Parker impression. Especially if you ain’t ever heard that old toad talk before. And finally an awful plan began to form in his head.

It’s sneaky and underhanded, and it literally leaves a bad taste in his mouth that could only be chased away by that Wine. That sweet taste on his tongue reminds him of that first night in your office. He remembers how you cried so sweetly for him. How you pushed him away so overwhelmed with what you felt for him. How excited you got when he called you by your name. How you called him daddy for the first time. 

What he remembers most of all is how he had to apply some pressure to you in order to break through that tough professional wall you’ve set between the two of you. But it was worth that sweet sweet outcome. 

And if he gets the answer he wants from you, it would be worth it yet again. 

You wanted him to take charge then, and you want him to take charge now. 

So this is something he has to do and this is his cross to bear.

Ideally you never had to know. 

Once the call was over Charlie could hardly look him in the eye, and practically scrambles to get the hell out of there once given the signal. He feels a twinge of guilt and hopes that this be the last morally bad thing he asks of the man. But with the way you’ve been able to keep him on the straight and narrow since you’ve met him, he thinks it will be. 

Still he welcomes the solitude, knowing that this is undoubtedly going to be the worst minutes of his life, and the only one he could even fathom spending them with is the one he’s currently waiting on. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t be one to sit on this for too long, so tonight he’s going to learn one of two things about you: either you tell him about “Parker” and try to help save him from the rat bastard… or you say yes to “Parker” and you prove yourself to be like the rest.  

He tries to chase that nasty feeling out of his head with the wine, and the sweet taste of it reminds him of that first night with you. How for all of your fighting and protesting you still gave in, how you kept coming back even as he knowingly put you through the wringer. How you would settle just as easily in his arms as he did in yours. 

If that ain't love, then I guess I don’t know what the hell is, he remembers thinking. You’re the last hope he has to believe that he can be loved for him, not for Elvis Presley. To love him through his fears, his hopes, his anxiousness, his temper, his jealousy, his dreams, all of it. 

And his faith in you is rewarded as you as his phone rings within minutes.

Where most people would blow up in a rage and scream and curse till their hoarse about something like this, you’re not like most people. No you’re far too composed to ever do that. Growing up in a house where your wants and feelings were second to everything will do that to you he guesses. 

You’re like that with everyone… except for him. You freely express all your thoughts and opinions with him, never afraid to give him the business when necessary but always honest in a way few people in his life are these days. 

You’re at your most vulnerable with him. You’re so used to hiding how you feel for others' benefits, and he’s glad you don’t have to do that with him. It was a long hard road to get to this point but goddamn if it wasn't worth every moment.  

He’s almost… giddy knowing that you’re going to be mad and he’s gonna be the only witness to it.

But for all your anger and fury, righteous or not. Ain’t none of it will change the fact that at the end of the day you still chose him. 

And even as you wordlessly turn and walk almost robotically up the stairs he’s confident that you’re going to choose him again. 

He barely has time to get the words out before the rest of them are in a frenzy to get out of the house, apparently unwilling to stick around for the fireworks. He doesn’t know what they're so squeamish about, he knows for a fact that they would’ve done worse if he asked them to. 

He trots up the stairs, maybe going a little slower, wanting to really rile you up. When he gets to your shared bedroom, you’re packing up a storm. 

It’s honestly cute that you think you’re going anywhere. 

A part of him knows he should feel more guilty about it. He does feel some guilt of course he’s not a monster, but it does feel roughly the same amount of guilt if he had broken a vase or something. It felt bad in the moment, and he tried his damndest to hide it, but ultimately it didn’t mean much. 

Sure you had been upset those first few weeks after the story dropped but eventually you did get over it and finally learned to enjoy your newfound life as his girl. Yes it cost you your job, but in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter much. 

And if he’s being honest it only really mattered in getting you to meet him.

Most people would be either on their knees begging for forgiveness from you or continuing to feign ignorance to all of it.

But he’s not most people. He knows what he did and he knows he ain’t got nothing to be sorry over. 

“Can you believe them Hollywood producers ain’t never wanted me in no serious movies?” he says casually, now that there are no more secrets between either of you. 

You throw a bottle of wine at him. 

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

Ending Note: As Battie as my witness I’ve had this twist planned since the beginning. It’s up to you if I did enough to justify this choice but I am happy with the results. 

Taglist

@venus-haze​ @djsjs13949​ @ilovehobi101​ @butlerslut​ @richardslady121​ @giabelia​ @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051​ @myradiaz​  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale​ @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis​ @dkayfixates​  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen​   @marriedtoeddie​ @cuteejeno​ @itlover8000​  @isthlsfate​  @mgparker​  @thatbanditqueen​   @softsatnin  @literally-just-elvis-fics​ @adaydreamaway08​ @airyx0x0 @domoron​​ @angelborn-1998

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presely smut #austin butler elvis #austin butler #austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin!elvis smut #austin butler x reader #yandere elvis #yandere austin!elvis x reader #yandere elvis x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #sorry its super late #yandere!elvis

[stafyliaa]

"Miles it's me!"

Prowler!Miles x Spiderhero!Reader (gender neutral)

cw: angst,Jeff being funny,mentions of Jeff death (sorry it's earth 42 😭),tears,no comfort (maybe there will be on part two) "betrayal" and a big misunderstanding

Hii! This is my first time writing hehehe give me a chance and please be nice :D im gonna do a ending to this fic but it's gonna take a while

I'm more than happy to write requests so don't be shy!!

You are Miles lover..but you are also the friendly neighborhood Spider hero! While Miles is the Prowler! And the worst..you both didn't know that

But you never thought Prowler was a bad guy,he actually helped people too but- he kinda hates you for some reason

maybe he was jealous of the amount of popularity you have and how you are incredible strong and how your suit was soooo pretty so yeah,who cares about Prowler anyways? He's a douchebag

As for Miles..He is the best!!

He looks like he is trying to poop everytime with that "scary" face of him but he is really sweet and respectful boy

he respects your space and supports your decisions,he is great with gifts (handmade or purchased) and never fails to make you feel especial regardless of anything ♡

You were great friends with his family too! They love you! But, something happened

His dad was captain Morales,he passed away doing his job..being a hero without spider powers or something like that yeah good guy

You remembered that when he was alive he didn't liked the ideia of a masked hero around (another jealous man),but after some events you kinda "worked together" to protect the peace at the city

The Spiderhero and captain Morales protecting our dear Brooklyn! couldn't get better

he enjoyed talking about his son and you can't deny it was fun to see what Miles was like from his father's point of view

"My boy has a beautiful significant other,i consider them as my own child! You know? Don't tell anybody but i kinda get jealous on how much of attention my wife put on them cause like,does she like them more then me?!! That's unacceptable hmfp"

Yeah and things like that was really fun too

But that day you couldn't saved him

You tried.. But unfortunately it didn't worked

Miles was devastated..you felt so guilty every day for not being able to save his dad but you always comforted him whenever he need it and he is very grateful for that

If you thought you were nobody under your hero mask you are sorely mistaken! You are everything to Miles,you are his hero

it's been sometime since that happened and everything seems to be okay

Until now

It was a random night you were patrolling the city when you ended up realizing that you were close to where Miles lived

It wouldn't hurt anyone to take a look would it?

But the last thing you expected to see was this

And this i mean

Prowler on the rooftop at Miles building

[•••]

What if he is planning to hurt Miles? You couldn't let that happen, could you?

You were ready to attack him sneakily but his mask came off

Curious to know who your unbearably annoying enemy is you decided to wait a while

Then..you saw him!Miles Morales was the Prowler,and he wasn't alone..Aaron was with him

You were surprised! Who wouldn't tbh

You decided to stay a little longer to see what he is going to do:

- Miles..we will finally catch that spider,i can feel it.- said Aaron

- Yeah,i can't wait for that Tio (uncle) Aaron

You noticed that Aaron seemed to be hesitant to tell Miles something,then he said:

- Look Miles,they.. could be anyone -you thought to yourself "does he know I'm the spider hero!?-

- What are you trying to say?

- I'm trying to say that - he hesitates one more time - don't forget why we are doing all this ok? Mi hermano (my brother) ..Your dad, está muerto (is dead) because that "hero" couldn't save him,they saved everyone but couldn't bother to save him and - Before Aaron could say more Miles interrupt him

- I know tio,don't worry - his mask returns to his face - esta noche(tonight)..I'm gonna kill that spider

You know what he said

You know what he is planning to do

Miles..the boy you love

Is going to kill you

[•••]

You are on the edge of the building

The only thing keeping you from falling is Prowler

He got his claws ready to kill you

Your heart is beating fast

"I don't want to die! I can't die yet! I don't want to get killed by him! Miles please!"you thought:

- Who are you?

- I... - he moves his claws closer to your face

With his claws he slowly takes off your mask

When he took the mask off you ,tears rolled down from your eyes

That look of fear and your watery eyes

Made Miles heart break

"This wasn't supposed to happen"

Miles thought

"Why is this happening?":

- Miles.. - you said whispering looking at him

Miles is feeling a lot of emotions

He is scared

He is angry

He is confused

And he is sad

Miles face is revealed

You see a tear fall down from his eye:

- Amor.. - you can hear by his voice that he is hurt

He don't want to do this,he can't do this!

But still

Miles doesn't let go of you:

- Miles..look i know why you are doing this! And i swear my love i really tried to save him!

"My love" he loves when you call him that,you always call him with so full of love on your voice that always make he feels warm

But is he feeling warm now that you are calling him? With so much despair trying to prove your point?

He close his eyes for a second and looked away as if he was trying to ignore you:

- Please! The fact that i couldn't save him still hunts me..Look at me Miles

He looked at you

More tears fall down from your eyes:

- The hardest thing about this job is that you can't save everybody..It took me a while to accept this but it's the truth

It took a while to accept this? That made Miles wonders if you even asked to be a hero at all

He loosens his grip a little

You wanted to tell him everything

How much it hurts you to be a hero

But you keep it to yourself:

- I know it hurts Miles,i know you want to kill me but please..Those people - you you looked around - they need me..let me do for them what i couldn't do for you

He moves his claws close to your face

You look deep into his eyes and said:

-Please..if you find a little sympathy in your heart.. forgive me for everything- you said honestly - I love you Miles

you shut your eyes and...

[•••]

Please be patient cause this fanfic will have a ending!! Thank you for reading ♡

#atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman #miles morales #miles x reader #miles 42 #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #atsv prowler #prowler x reader #prowler miles x spider reader #prowler miles x spiderwoman reader #prowler miles x spiderman reader #spiderman reader #spiderwoman reader #angst #gender neutral reader #miles x y/n

[according2thelore]

That anon who said they dean being jealous of himself is SO right. I'm LOVING the angsty jealous dynamics you've been feeding us. I'm partial to "young Sam is jealous of old Sam" myself because it's soooo cute and sad. Like yes! Make Sam pout! Make him value himself less! Make him glare daggers at LS!Sam and ES!Dean!!! Make him think he's the odd one out and not wanted! The angst! I'm also dying for ES!Dean to comfort ES!Sam once(if) he realizes that he feels left out. Just UGH. ES!SAM FEELING LIKE THE LAST CHOICE! SO good. I love coming to your blog just to see what you post lol, you just hit every right button for me.

AHHH! THANK YOU!

let's discuss!

SO much of ES!Sam's life up to that point is feeling like the odd one out!

when it's just dean and sam, i think sam doesn't feel like he has to try to fit in as hard. when dean's trying to impress/ingratiate himself with dad? for sure. those awkward few hunts after stanford? 100%

but when it's just dean and sam, they might fight and get snippy, but sam doesn't have to put up a front. he doesn't have to put on airs. in fact, we see a couple times in the show that when sam's trying to be something he's not with dean, it's to protect him/protect his feelings.

so for ES!Sam, to have that safe space (lol pardon the phrase) GONE--sam's only completely authentic space (bc even with jess, he had to hide huge parts of himself)--

it would definitely put him off-balance. to sam, dean is choosing a different, better version of sam. ES!Sam felt safe being his own bitchy self with dean, but to have ES!Dean so clearly prefer a version of sam with all that removed, i wouldn't be surprised if ES!Sam felt the pressure to change to meet ES!Dean's new preferences.

which of course he resents! sam spent so much of his life being told to change: by dad, by dean, by other hunters, by himself.

to find out that your only true safe place to land can, does, and will prefer a seemingly faultless version of yourself?? bro. immediately confusing and devastating.

and even outside of the meta-dynamic of their relationship, ES!Sam is confused! and scared!

because he's also in love with dean. so to be usurped so easily both platonically and romantically?? GRAH! it drives sam crazy!

because he's not even sure which parts he's "allowed" to be mad about. he's not sure if glaring at the space where LS!Sam has his knee pressed against ES!Dean's in the car is an "acceptable" platonic jealousy, or if it's part of his sick-wrong-bad possessiveness that ES!Dean is his.

he's not sure if wanting to rip off LS!Sam's face for making ES!Dean laugh like that is annoyance that ES!Sam's superpower is communal or fury that ES!Dean is capable of belonging to someone else.

he's afraid of coming out and saying a lot of it, because what if it's too revealing?? what if he missteps and ES!Dean recognizes that ES!Sam's agonized ire is because he wants to suck his cock until he can't see straight?

he's annoyed and he's mad and he's upset, but bottling it up is all ES!Sam really knows how to do unless he wants to bring their house of cards down!

as for comfort, i think ES!Dean at first would not recognize this at all, lmao. for all ES!Dean's attentiveness to the changes in ES!Sam's moods and needs, he thinks he's just being a little bitch about the whole thing (his regrettable choice of words, not mine).

like c'mon, we're both weirded-out by this whole thing. we're in this together! and being rude to LS!Sam&Dean is not going to change our situation. dean does not take slights to sam lightly, even if the person slighting LS!Sam is ES!Sam.

i think it would take something stronger for ES!Dean to realize that ES!Sam's feelings are genuinely hurt--or at least confused--about the whole thing. ES!Sam avoids him like the plague, and these men do not sit down to talk about feelings, lmao.

maybe ES!Dean stumbles in on LS!Dean & ES!Sam talking, and LS!Dean is obviously comforting him, hand on the back of his neck, and ES!Sam's got a pink nose and shiny eyes and ES!Dean kind of blows up, because what the fuck did you say to him? what's going on in here?

LS!Dean rolls his eyes and shoves him off like go talk to your kid. i'm not here to mediate your bitchfits.

maybe it finally comes out later, ES!Sam not really able to look dean in the eyes, that he's sick of dean being so whipped for LS!Sam, and since when did dean need other brothers?

ES!Dean doesn't know how to express the fact that he's so taken with LS!Sam because this is a brother that wants him back! that needs him back! LS!Sam loves the hunt and he loves dean, and he's not shy about either of those things! if LS!Sam has free time, he spends it with dean. if LS!Sam is bored, he goes to look for dean. ES!Dean is thrilled by the promise of that future, of a sam who is gorgeous and strong and sexy as fuck and wants dean!!!

so he fumbles his way through it like "c'mon, sammy. he's you."

"is he, though? he's...i don't know. it's hard to recognize myself in him. he's...different....than i thought he would be. i guess."

ES!Sam doesn't know how to say that out of the four of them, he's the only one that feels Other. he wants to be part of this, but they don't make it easy.

ES!Sam doesn't know how to navigate on the outside of the Sam&Dean dynamic. he is the Sam in the Sam&Dean dynamic--he's realizing how strange and alienating it is to be not Sam or Dean in that, and he hates it.

"you think i'd put up with some guy that wasn't you?" dean scoffs, and they both kind of stare at each other for a second, because that was dangerously close to the truth.

"listen," ES!Dean follows up quickly, because he's not willing to let those words sit in the air too long, for the off-chance that ES!Sam will have time to process them. "you're my sam, okay? my pain in the ass little brother. this guy is sam, but he's that dean's sam. so. y'know. they're not us. or ours, or...whatever. you're still the little shit i'm gonna bug first."

it's tense for a long moment, unsure if that was too honest, too revealing. ES!Sam's still breathing a little fast, and ES!Dean keeps shifting on his feet.

"you're an asshole." ES!Sam finally says, exhaling, looking genuinely un-strung for the first time in weeks, and ES!Dean practically slumps forward in relief.

"aw, sammy. you sure know how to make a girl blush." he coos, and ES!Sam swats him away, all it's sam, you know it's sam.

and ES!Dean is smiling and rolling his eyes and his hands are still shaking under the table like yeah, yeah, whatever you say.

GAH!!!!!!!!!!!! jealous sam! devastated sam!!! isolated sam!!!

YOU GET IT!!!!!!! YOU UNDERSTAND THE VISION!!!!!!!!!

thank you for this ask!!! and for your kind words!!! mwah, mwah, mwah! <3

-lizzy

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #animangalover15

[hamliet]

So, Harry Potter ask here:

This one might sound a bit controversial to comment on, I hope it doesn't bother you. What is your opinion about the narrative redeeming Snape, a former Death Eater (the blood supremacists guys), just because of his guilt and love for Harry’s mother. I see a lot of discussions on this topic (Snape himself is already a controversial character, so I guess it's no surprise there are so many discussions around him), remembering you I got curious to know what your thoughts on this subject.

No worries!

I see Snape as a character who is far and away the most complex character of Harry Potter. Now, HP's a fairy tale in principle, so most of its characters are not overly complex. But Snape is (and so is Dumbledore). But I think some people can have trouble processing complex characters inside fairly straightfoward, simple stories, which isn't necessarily the fault of the story.

While She Who Must Not Be Named has had a lot of "..." takes to her own works (and horrid takes elsewise), I do think she's not wrong about her statement on Snape: that he was a hero, and he was a bully, both at the same time. He just was. There's no excusing his treatment of his students. His heroism and sacrifice without any guarantee that he would be remembered as anything other than a traitor was brave.

So, not only is Snape complex, but he embodies the old adage "hurting people hurt people." His childhood is also extremely hard to read about--it sounds agonizing. Snape does grow up to bully others because he was himself bullied horribly--not just by his peers, but at home, where his father abused both him and his mother.

Another potential stumbling block for Snape's "redemption" is that it gets to the heart of what a redemption is. Is it actually a change in character? Or is it a change in how the reader perceives the character? Because technically, in universe, Snape's been redeemed since before Harry was born. It's just that our reactions to him change after the reveal in the last book. And, he was still hurting people while being a hero. (Antihero?) So, how should we feel about him?

I'm going to say that's exactly the question we're supposed to be asking, actually.

And to determine what asking that question gets us, let's look at Snape as a foil to other characters. Snape is a very good foil for Dumbledore, Harry, and Voldemort. Actually, these four all foil each other quite a bit, and it's in their foilings that we come to an understanding of the story's themes.

Like Dumbledore, Snape is somewhat morally gray. We're meant to ask the complicated questions at the end of the last book, which was all about wrestling with the legacy of heroes who turned out to be very flawed. Snape is cruel to Harry, but is ultimately determined to keep him alive no matter what because that is what Lily would have wanted. Dumbledore is loving and a good mentor to Harry, but does all of this while knowing that Harry would have to die in the end. Snape even calls Dumbledore out on this. Dumbledore also allows Harry to stay in two abusive situations--the Dursleys and Snape--for the ultimate benefit of protecting him... so he can eventually sacrifice himself.

If someone is horrible to you but ultimately determined to keep you alive no matter what, are they a worse person to you than someone who is nice to you and believes you must die, even if they are devastated by this?

This is why I really roll my eyes at people not understanding the purpose of "Albus Severus Potter" at the end. It's so dismissed and derided, but it's narratively perfect. (Especially in! A! Fairy tale!)

The names aren't about Harry and how he feels about these men. They are names that are significant symbolically for showing how Harry has reconciled these two complicated legacies, and will keep reconciling with them because their legacies are literally alive and living on (and the weight of having legacies and the question of whether you're seen as yourself is exactly what The Cursed Child explores.)

In the end, both Snape and Dumbledore achieved their goals: Harry is alive, and he died to vanquish Voldemort. All is well. Their legacies live on in a literal new life, who gets to decide for himself what his own legacy will be in TCC. Meaning, even if Harry acknowledges their flaws, he chooses to appreciate their lives. Instead of being kept in the dark, ignorant about his endgame and ignorant of his mother's history, he sees, and he gets to determine how he feels about it all. It's empowerment, not capitulation. It's maturity, embodying the macrocosm (appreciating the big picture) in the microcosm (a single person). (Also, yes, Dumbledore's "the greater good" struggles with Gindelwald tie into this idea, wherein via Snape and Dumbledore's opposite approaches/reasoning to protecting Harry, we see that the greater good vs the individual is not necessarily a dichotomy after all. So having a character literally embody both in the end is--perfect.)

Snape, Harry, and Voldemort all grew up unloved. The difference is that Harry is able to find himself surrounded by loving friends at a point. Snape is able to find one person to love. Tom Riddle isn't able to find anyone, and hence he becomes Voldemort. That shred of love inside Snape saves not just himself spiritually, but Harry physically. Because love is like that. It's the most powerful magic, after all.

As for the whole idea of showing Snape as redeemable thanks to love--I mean, listen, as someone raised in a cult, people need to realize that people inside these cults--even extremist, evil ones--need someone or something to motivate them to leave. They were a person before their joined the cult (unless you were brought up in it) and they're still a person. Giving someone ties to the outside is exactly how most of them will come to realize they have options. No, not everyone has to forgive them or be willing to extend a hand. We can't be everything to everyone. But if someone can, that doesn't mean they're excusing the inexcusable. They're just recognizing the humanity inside them. And even if no one does, the person in the cult can decide to love someone and leave. It's hopeful. It's a fairy tale, and love wins.

#ask hamliet #hp #harry potter meta #tw #just in case bc i know a lot of ppl can't with it nowadays #severus snape #snape meta

[clawbehavior]

zero context WIP game! thanks for the tags @killerandhealerqueen and @fourth-quartet 🥰🥰

i'm playing fast and easy with the rules of this one (which you can find here). instead, you'll find numbered snippets from a bunch of WIPs i am 75-90 per cent done but ambivalent about which to update first. gahan readers, what interests you most?

--

1. even gods can't change the past

gaon stares listlessly at the stickers lining the base of the night lamp. despite repeated disinfectings, they haven't come off, dinosaurs, trucks, sparkly muffins. things he had put there to make their hospital stay livelier. 

'i guess we're even now,' soohyun says, quiet and mostly to herself. 

gaon thinks for a while. 'chief jo?' he guesses. soohyun had a girlish fascination with her mentor that in turn made the normally gruff man go tongue tied. 

'what -- no. jishin,' she says as if this explains anything. when gaon looks over at his wife sitting on the bed beside him, she looks guilty, sad, and relieved. the guilt is most prominent. 

'what --' says gaon, having to swallow because his mouth is suddenly dry. 'are you talking about?'

----

2. unnamed modern strangers in a bar au

the stranger backs gaon up until he hits the brick wall behind them, none too gently. but the man pays no attention to this. he looks at gaon with desire both ferocious and unyielding. 

'this husband of yours,' says the stranger angrily, sliding his hands into gaon's thick hair and keeping them there. 'you talk about him like he walks on water but he's only a man.'

'he's my world,' replies gaon breathlessly, eyes fixed on the man's mouth. then the stranger is kissing him. 

---

3. omega spin-off of enantiomers

gaon spins in yohan's arms so they're back to chest, before sensuously dragging himself down yohan's front until he's crouched at yohan's feet. yohan's hands tighten around his when gaon looks up at him from the floor, smilingly and with heat. 

'that look is why i put a baby inside you the first time around,' yohan says, stroking gaon's hands. there's a hint of warning to his tone. and desperation. he can't be held responsible for what he does if gaon keeps this up. 

gaon laughs delightedly.

of course, that's when the bedroom emits a wail that filters down the hallway and into the living room.

--

4. everything everywhere all at once

soohyun's eyebrows go up in shock. 'you still love him,' she says accusingly. 'not just that -- you want to go back to him. your parents died because of kang yohan!' she yells this last part, stomping her feet in enraged helplessness. 

'good people die without good reason,' gaon replies, feeling his cheeks redden.

she looks at gaon like he's grown another head. 'are you listening to yourself right now? you'll forgive kang yohan, and for what? he broke your heart. you were devastated for weeks!'

'i'm not selfless, soohyun-yah. not like you,' gaon replies, voice cracking. he searches for the words, pulling them from deep inside him. 'after appa died, i kept the restaurant open to prove that i could. helping people came after. but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep dragging on like everything is normal when seeing how fucked up everything is is destroying me.'

soohyun visibly swallows her words, letting gaon finish. 

'i hurt,' gaon whispers, 'all the time. i'm so angry. it's like looking into an abyss but now it looks back at me. being with yohan makes me feel safe, like i'll survive this. like there's more to living than just pain.'

soohyun hunches over at the knees and hugs herself. 'why does it have to be kang yohan?' she says miserably.

'i don't know.' gaon approaches, choreographing his intent. he pulls her into a hug when she doesn't resist. 'it's fucked up. i'm fucked up but i miss him terribly.'

'what if he breaks your heart again?' she sniffles against gaon's chest, voice going flat with inevitability. 

'he might,' gaon admits, squeezing her in final consolation. 'but i'll go my whole life regretting it if i don't try.'

--

5. elevator troubles

‘bujangnim?’ gaon asks, knocking on the heavy wooden door for appearance’s sake before striding in. but yohan’s not there.

the sound of his harsh breathing fills the office. he makes his way over to where late afternoon sunlights spills through the floor to ceiling windows and stares at the traffic twenty stories below, tiny trucks and tinier people. 

he's livid. if he could, he would shatter every single window of this ministry building with the frequency of his rage.

a hand slips over his eyes, cooling their heat and blocking his vision. a body follows behind. 

‘shhh,’ rumbles yohan in gaon’s ear, moulding himself around gaon, silken wool and heat and support everywhere. his other hand lands on gaon's chest, over gaon's fast beating heart. 

gaon’s only reaction is a hitch in his breathing. his muscles remain tightly coiled, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

'he told me that my parents would be proud of me for doing the right thing,' gaon says with long pauses between into the red blackness. 'when he -- when he was the one who helped doh young choon --' he breaks off with a stifled sound, enraged.  

yohan's joyless chuckle rumbles through gaon's body. 'min jung ho is a viper.' his inflection doesn't change when gaon grabs his wrist. 'down to his venomous words.'

'what gives him the right,' gasps gaon, eyes turning wet with frustrated tears under yohan's palm. he presses back into yohan's body. 

'none,' says yohan simply. 'just as he has no right to dispense justice.'

'i want to hurt him, so, so badly,' gaon confesses, pulling yohan's hand away. 

‘we will,’ says yohan. 

future promises aren't enough. gaon whirls around. 'now, yohan.' he pushes the unresisting older man backwards until yohan's thighs hit the heavy oak table. 'i want to destroy him now.' 

---

6. my heart goes back to you, i just don't know

trigger warning, beware.

jung sunah pulls gaon’s face up with a fistful of silky, dark hair. gaon’s pupils are blown wide. yohan catches a peek of red tongue as gaon swallows, sweat beading along the younger man’s temple. yohan knows this expression from when he looked into the mirror all those weeks ago after jung sunah had ambushed him. 

she drugged gaon.

yohan watches with a foreboding feeling as jung sunah simply stares at gaon. the hunger on her face is…not good. she cocks her head, hand traveling to gaon’s panting mouth. yohan watches her fit two perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted rouge into the seam of gaon’s mouth; feels somehow worse when gaon doesn’t resist. 

‘he’s nothing! a means to an end,‘ barks yohan. he sounds affected because he is. he knows what’s happening here, what jung sunah is making him a bystander to.

she ignores this. ‘you know, i never liked giving blowjobs,’ she says conversationally. ‘they’re demeaning. the power differential is obvious. men enjoy it.’  she tilts gaon’s face up using the fingers in his mouth.

gaon pants heavily, eyelashes turning wet as he blinks slow and hard. ‘seeing kim pansanim on his knees makes me understand the appeal of it.’

‘is that why you brought him here?’ yohan asks, thinking quickly. ‘to get to me?’

‘you put your hand on his shoulder on live television,’ she replies in a faraway voice, but yohan can read her now.

--

tagging @technitango @tenderlywicked @rocknghorss @thedeviljudges @briwates @mid-n0vember @eyesof-kkomi feel free to pass ofc and if you are a writer who enjoys being tagged, lmk so i can include you in the future

#the devil judge #gahan #my fic ideas #my ficlets #asks game #writers ask game #moots

[makingmeagirlwithluv]

BTS MEMBERS AS ANGSTY LOVE SONG LYRICS AND WHY YOU WOULD BREAK UP

Author disclaimer: This is just for fun! I'm sure all the boys are lovely in their personal relationships. I just want to feel angsty!

Warnings: Angst, swearing, PG, but my blog is 18 plus so MINORS DNI.

Kim Namjoon:

"I'm bein' a cool girl, I'm keepin' it so tight"

"I need him like water, he thinks that I'm alright

I'm not feelin' human, I think he's a good guy"

Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod

Not sure if yall were ever dating officially :(

He's brilliant and wonderful but he can't make time for you in his head or his heart.

Thinks you're lovely and sweet and enjoys spending time with you but would not claim you.

You try harder to get his attention than you do caring for yourself. It's just not gone work I'm so sorry

Park Jimin:

"I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you"

False God by Taylor Swift

Absolutely devastating arguments lead to the breakup.

Jimin isn't a yeller but he can be so cruel when he's heated. And he doesn't take back anything he says even if he knows it hurts your feelings.

Will not talk to you for days on end if you don't apologize first.

Ultimately the anxiety you felt every time you disagreed on something was not worth it in the end. You break up and speak when you run into each other but don't date again.

Kim Seokjin

"'Cause I know we said we'd just be friends

I can't lie and I can't pretend

Boy, I've tried and bottom line is

I still love you and I hate this"

I hate this- Tenille Arts

He broke up with you cause he liked you more as a friend and wanted to do his own thing.

You are not handling it well.

You keep making up reasons to talk to him seeking some form of closure an he's so gentle he keeps talking it through with you because he does care about you.

Sadly as much as you love him and think he's your forever he does not feel that way about you.

Jeong Jung Kook

"Cause you're so pretty

When you smile, it kills me,

You're the only person left, so hold me

Don't leave me"

Ur So Pretty- Wasia Project

Anxious attachment style on both ends oh my gosh!

You were both so nervous about fucking things up and losing each other yall wouldn't let each other breathe like.

Lots of jealousy on both ends.

Relationship kind of imploded on itself.

Maybe some therapy would have helped but then again maybe not.

You two have an on and off thing for like a year before agreeing you're better off as friends.

Min Yoongi:

"And it's true

I tend to follow in his stride

Instead of side by side

I take his cue"

A part of that- The last five years

You just kind of lost yourself in him?

It's easy to fall into the world of min yoongi but your sense of individuality slowly fell away.

You looked up one day and your world was only him and it wasn't his fault but you had to find you again.

The breakup was amicable and you're still friends to an extent. You don't date again for a few years after him as you spend that time rediscovering yourself.

Jung Hoseok

"But when you walked out that door

A piece of me died

I told you I wanted more

But that's not what I had in mind

I just want it like before

We were dancin' all night"

Blue Jeans- Lana del Rey

Hobis ambition is not something you or anyone can get in the way of.

He loves you but he loves success a little more.

Long nights at the studio missed anniversaries long stints of no communicatom became the norm. You tried desperately to act like being second place in his life didn't bother you

But it did. And one day you walked out of his life and never looked back. One week without communication became 3 became months became a year.

It sucks that it fizzled out but you learned to date only people who had time for you.

Kim Taehyung

"I miss your tanned skin, your sweet smile

Sorry to say that you pushed this sweet guy away,friend.

So good to me, so right...But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't"

Back to December- Taylor swift

You had a lot of shit going on and you liked Tay but he always felt in the way even when he was just trying to love you.

You dumped him pretty abruptly, and he was pretty hurt and even asked you to reconsider a few times, but he eventually moved on.

After healing the parts of yourself that was not ready for a man like him you decide you'd love to try again.

He's already moved on though. Sometimes timing and life is funny like that.

You learn to be happy for him after being miserable for a while and eventually you love again.

And that's it! Let me know if you liked these and if you want more boys as song lyrics or head canons. Make sure to follow me for bts fan fic/ head cannons

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts imagines #jimin x you #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #jung kook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x you #jhope x reader #jin x reader #jungkook x you #kim seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts headcanons

[flaresanimedump]

Fukuzawa and Ranpo romantic themes essay

ALRIGHT here we go

The story thus far:

Well HERE IT COMES.

First off y'all are focusing too much on Fukuzawa. Sorry but if you look to Fukuzawa only Fukuzawa/cats has merit. Even with FukuMori it's Mori we get 90% of the ship content from (silver fox?? Can you not hit on him for FIVE SECONDS MORI-)

You have to look at RANPO. And so we will, mostly, in this response.

Now I did say "themes" first so you're all gonna have to deal with me doing both. I’m just gonna lead with the thing that I see the behavior in the og tweet with the most:

Antis almost never fail to say "father and son" in their captions when they post screenshots of this anthology chapter.

As the translator of this anthology I will tell you it's not father and son. It's tsundere boyfriend.

How is this tsundere?!: “I’m not worried about you, baka, I just don’t ever want to see you sick—play sick nurse for you again!! So take better care of yourself!! Here’s a snack!! Feel better or else!!” + this phrase "I never thought I'd hear such caring words from you" is your basic tsundere trope template in JP.

Why does that mean it’s romantic?!: Tsundere behavior is mostly reserved for love interests – particularly this bit.

He’s just offering him a snack!!: Look at the shojo background in every panel. Look at the sparkles. Look at them setting the fluffy lovey-dovey mood. Look at Fukuzawa’s saying he’ll take them to his heart. You can hear the “Kyaaaa, Yukichi-kun was so close!!!” if you listen carefully.

But- but- FATHER AND SON!!: you may now see why it took a Fukuran shipper to translate this 4 years after it was released, despite the scanlation boom over covid ;)

But that’s an anthology! It’s not really canon!

Moving right along then, this is Bones only, but:

Seeing color because you meet someone is literally the basis of an entire subset of soulmate AUs.

I bookmarked two romance quotes in the last 6 hours that center on romantic love bringing color into someone’s life. This is an extremely common romantic trope and I still can’t believe Bones went there in Origins. a. “But Nova!” they cry, “lots of parents say their children bring color into their lives!!” True!! And you’ve just said why this isn’t the same! Fukuzawa brought color to RANPO’s life, not the other way around. This is why I say to look to Ranpo for this ship!

Well Bones sucks!

There are about 104 examples of “Unbroken Vigil” on TV tropes. Exactly two of them are children waiting by their parents, and they’re both from live action film. This trope, across all categories of media, is absolutely owned by romantic couples. Notably in the anime and fanon sections there are no examples of family members doing this. I won’t say there aren’t any anywhere, though. JJK exists. But that’s a good example of how different Ranpo’s reaction is from the usual “caretaker is in the hospital” mood – sure Yuuji’s sad when his grandpa dies, but he’s gonna be ok. Ranpo’s, as Yosano says, devastated. Ranpo’s devastation fits squarely in the romantic box for this one boys.

Point of reference: Fukuzawa

I’m gonna hit two points at once in this section:

Ranpo’s kneeling to Fukuchi here but he has no loyalty to Fukuchi. He’s kneeling out of loyalty to Fukuzawa, so in truth he’s kneeling to Fukuzawa’s will. He’s acting as Fukuzawa’s knight. Even if we pretend King and Lionheart wasn’t a fandom phenomena for years, this isn’t a parent-child thing. Ranpo is steadfastly faithful to his king.

But lo?? Ranpo’s a lying liar. He’ll face away from the president under exactly one condition: Fukuzawa’s life is hanging in the balance. Then he’ll go against the only thing he himself has said he’s willing to stand for. This is not how the parent-child trope works. The parent says “live for me, I’ll die for the greater good” and the child cries and the parent dies. It’s like. The most common movie plotline in the universe when adults' parents are in movies.

Instead Ranpo actually does something that another stated romantic couple in this series does.

Goes apeshit on the threat.

Then later he’s not even remorseful. He tells Fukuzawa they did it and eats a bunch of cake without a care in the world after. He’d do it again and we know it.* So his moral compass isn’t to follow the president, it’s actually to follow him up to his own good and then burn the entire city down if it’ll keep him alive. This is really the most damning of Ranpo behaviors that screams of something more than familial affection.

Fukuzawa’s lines when he's poisoned are “we must not fight the port mafia. My life isn't important, protect this city (from the inevitable damage the fighting will do).”

Ranpo’s argument to disobey him is that the port mafia will start taking their families hostage to get them to give Fukuzawa up. “And if that happens, even the detective agency will be forced to give in.” His argument isn’t even “our friends will be in danger,” it’s “if we don’t fight we'll have let them kill President Fukuzawa.” Which, you know, Fukuzawa already said was preferable to fighting.

So this whole argument is literally that ship meme: “I will sacrifice myself to save everyone.” / “I will sacrifice anyone to save you.”

*Ranpo’s near-complete lack of punishment for this is a subtle sign of Fukuzawa’s bias too but this is already too long.

Shirushi

Or the 4th season's opening song. This has not been easy I tell you WHAT most of the translations for this song’s lyrics leave something to be desired and song lyrics are hard to understand. Anyway, we have Shirushi, which Luck Life's vocalist said was about Ranpo and Fukuzawa. And it’s. Well I wouldn’t exactly call it a love song because it’s bigger with “you gave me a reason to live” as one of the recurring lyrics. But the song’s got more lyrics about wanting/wishing/pleading to stay together: “I want to stay here // please, let’s just stay here // I want you and I to continue” and them being together, the “here” in question, is called “the place where [my] heart belongs.” It’s so sweet aaaaaa and it most definitely sounds like a love song.

"I will be his shield"

Here we have the rare Fukuzawa point.

Ok can I skip explaining this it’s very very obvious and I already went over one of these things.

Normal thought process: I should keep an eye on this kid. Fukuzawa thought process: I will become his shield, his sword, his shelter, to allow his magnificent mind freedom to work its magic--

Two halves of one whole

This is a weak ass point but I always found it thematically contradictory to the father/son interpretation, particularly when it comes right on the heels of a certain line fancops like to reference.

At the beginning of Origins Fukuzawa literally parkours across a room, backflips and everything, shocking the guy with all the papers with his mad skills. And Fukuzawa thinks “What? Why? That wasn’t impressive.”

He’s hinted to be the physical counterpart of Ranpo’s hyper competence. I.E., Ranpo is the one-of-a-kind mind and Fukuzawa is the one-of-a-kind body. Together they become unstoppable.

This implies a bond that won’t end?? But parent & child plotlines always have a theme of the child growing up and moving on. Atsushi and the orphanage director, though they’re fucked up, personified it. But they’ve clearly established that Fukuzawa and Ranpo are two halves of one whole and neither of them are planning to separate at any point. What’s Ranpo gonna do, go become a regular cop?? This just doesn’t suit a father and son dynamic.

Jealousy

Alright this next part will take some effort but FIRST we must all agree there’s romantic tension between Fukuchi and Fukuzawa. When I initially drafted this the finale had not come out, but we STILL had this going on:

Ok, so we also have the finale and we know Fukuzawa has some Strong Feelings for Fukuchi too. And Ranpo friggin' hates it.

I don’t aim to eradicate the platonic reading of Fukuran or anything, Fukuzawa and Ranpo are cute together no matter what! So this does smack of a teenager mad about having a stepdad taking all their mom’s time. But I cycle back to what Fukuchi cites as the focal point of Ranpo’s jealousy for the other easy interpretation.

The only time in my life I’ve thought “Aw I wish we’d met sooner :/” and felt a little envy towards someone's high school friends was with someone I was dating. I’d never think anything to this effect about a family member, certainly not enough to get violently jealous of their old friends or, heaven forbid, significant others.

What Ranpo is wishing for here is to have known Fukuzawa longer than Fukuchi, which could not happen if he was Fukuzawa's son. Fukuzawa was too young to have children when he met Fukuchi. So Ranpo's jealousy doesn't seem strictly platonic.

Praise

I will never understand how anyone sees the praise scene and thinks it’s normal father-son behavior. Teenagers wouldn't wouldn’t be caught dead doing this. Adults are far beyond it. Ranpo’s 26. Yes he likes candy and can’t ride the train, but the trains in Japan are WORSE than driving and neither of these behaviors mean he's a literal child. He has a driver’s license and investigates corpses for a living. He’s an adult.

This is a textbook praise kink.

But what about-

Now, I did mention the line I know all the antis are getting ready to comment with, and I just don’t think this would be complete without the inflammatory “well actually” section. There have been many a tweet saying “Fukuzawa says he sees Ranpo as his son!”

Actually, he never does. They're explicitly called partners/buddies, however.

NOVA IT’S RIGHT HERE!!

Bad news kids: this isn’t an exact translation. It’s very sweet and all but that’s not what the Japanese actually says.

This line is closer to “I have a child in my care for my own reasons, too.” He didn’t say Ranpo was HIS child, there’s no possessive grammar here (heh no の). I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone argue that Fukuzawa didn’t see him as a child when he was, you know, a child, but the series doesn’t take place when Ranpo is a child. Also I don’t see how that has anything to do with Ranpo’s feelings at the time.

Well that’s semantics, Fukuchi says it too!! See??

This 1) is Fukuchi who has about 1000 reasons to be a fukuran anti that have nothing to do with ages and 2) isn’t a direct translation of the Japanese text either. It says “little favorite” in Japanese, and that’s it! “Little favorite” just sounds weird in English so the translators used a common phrase that people generally DON’T and SHOULDN’T use for their own kids (imagine if everyone knew you liked one of your actual kids better than the rest D:). I have it on good authority that the official Italian doesn’t say “favorite son” and I know the Japanese doesn’t, so this line is not cannon.

Well how about this!!!

I’m not really sure why this is referenced when it’s clearly the center of the chapter’s joke – the point is that Ranpo ISN’T 5, he just acts that way.

Plus I can throw this panel back from the same WaN chapter as an argument:

“Ranpo’s grown so handsome” or if you prefer, “Ranpo looks so virile now...” – rare simp Fukuzawa.

Well you can’t possibly deny this!!!

Congratulations, this is the only one with any merit! What it fails to do is prove Fukuzawa said it or remove any of the stuff already mentioned here. Ranpo could very much be in love with Fukuzawa. This line in origins is narration, not dialogue or thought, and it isn’t carried through in the narrative so it’s relatively easy to view it as a joke. The same book christens them “Tantei [Sou]jin,” same sou as in “[sou]koku,” with kanji meaning “Detective duo/detective twins/double detectives/detective partners” though I’ve also found it to mean something very near “equals.” The kanji are ‘subtitled’ as "Detective buddies” in English (katakana) in the Japanese book. All this throws multiple wrenches in the idea that they’re broadly viewed as parent and child or even as having a significant power imbalance between them.

Which brings me to my final point: none of this proves anything definitively! There’s plenty of material for both interpretations. The entire point of engaging with media is to develop your own interpretation and have fun with it. But freaking out and screaming your headcanon when a scene hits you as slightly different than that headcanon is very much screaming at the sky. Lord knows I’ve seen these four arguments enough times that if they were going to convince me of anything they already would have, and Asagiri sure can’t hear you.

I think everyone who doesn’t think this could be romantic at least from Ranpo’s side expects that romantic imagery/themes for this ship can only appear from Fukuzawa, and only if it’s predatory? Like as long as I don’t whip out a canon image like this

they’ll say “I would definitely do that with my parent” to every argument even if in reality they never, ever would.

I did recently see someone saying "why would Ranpo even like Fukuzawa, he's 30!" and listen, I can't help you there. I've had crushes on actors twice my age since I was 10, it's ingrained in my wiring. A sexy badboy bodyguard who declares himself to be at your service AND buys you food will never not be hot to me.

"What's attractive about Fukuzawa" requires another essay, however, so this is where I leave it. Obviously much of this is open to interpretation, but I don’t see people making skk posts that just say “BESTIES BESTIES BESTIES” or “BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS” ya feel. It’s always on panels like the ones I brought up, because people do recognize a romantic slant when they see one. You don’t learn to detect that from media, you learn it from living long before you start caring about morality politics in shipping. Thus I interpret the screaming very much as LALALALALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU-

P.S. actually I do want to add one final note because I know what the fancops will say even if they take all this at face value: Grooming refers to “actions deliberately undertaken to befriend and establish an emotional connection with a child, to lower the child’s inhibitions in preparation for sexual activity.”

Dating someone you knew when you were underage does not equal grooming. Grooming is a purposeful crime. “Even if they’re dating now that’s grooming!” incorrect! Please do not only listen to your friends about the law, they may also tell you a cop has to tell you if they're a cop (they do not) or any number of other very wrong things. Google is free.

#long post #fukuran #ranfuku #tantei soujin #I COULD HAVE DONE MORE #yes the ayabram didn't particularly age well #but everyone ELSE thought she was his wife too lol #analysis #ppl can rb and add stuff they think is romantic if they want <3

[eriexplosion]

FINISHING OUT SEASON ONE WITH KAMINO LOST, TIME TO CRY.

Lugging Crosshair around Kamino like a sack of sad potatoes. The way he gets to wake up pinned underneath a fucking steel beam like fucking congrats you tried to kill yourself one way so how do you feel about this significantly worse impending doom?

The voice work on the clone reporting that Kamino is destroyed is fantastic, that poor fucking clone.

GREETINGS CT-9904! YOU SURVIVED THE AERIAL BOMBARDMENT BUT ARE NOW MOMENTS AWAY FROM DROWNING!

Azi is so fucking funny like it's obviously terrible to experience this but imagine doing it with this chipper robot narrating your oncoming demise for you

I have a headcanon that Crosshair has a fear of drowning, because his reactions to possible death elsewhere are nothing like here where he sees the water and starts Immediately trying to actually survive.

Getting Hunter to shoot him? Fine, he'll take that. But do NOT let this fucking planet drown him after all this time.

"WHAT have you DONE" Crosshair do you really think this is THEIR FAULT? You knew the Empire was going to bomb the place!

IF YOU WANT TO STAY HERE AND DIE THAT'S YOUR CALL sometimes you need to lay it out clearly for someone that is intent on throwing a giant tantrum.

The entire tower of pods being submerged fucks me up so much

God but if there's one thing they're good at doing it's animating absolutely devastating destruction in intense detail.

Never noticed before that Echo nearly falls and has to grab onto Crosshair because everything was always moving SO FAST.

Crosshair genuinely standing there looking like he's thinking about just staying there and dying but thinking better of it when he realizes dying here means drowning specifically.

ENDING UP BACK IN THE BARRACKS.

Literally they are safe for like 3 minutes tops and Crosshair plans to spend all of them complaining.

We made a choice, and so did you. Goddddd the betrayal and hurt layered in there. Just. A lot changed when Crosshair said that the chip was out and didn't bother to clarify when. And no one here knows the chip was enhanced to be even stronger. (Except maybe AZI?) Just Crosshair really feels like he admitted he totally tried to kill them under his own power.

"We need to go back" BACK TO W H E R E CROSSHAIR?

Tech's assessment that basically diagnoses Crosshair as Insanely and Incredibly Stubborn. I dub thee an unbearable bitch, but I understand you.

THIS OUTCOME IS SATISFACTORY! while they all look utterly traumatized by the experience.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LET A KID CALL THE SHOTS Crosshair I swear to god. Your plan was to stand there and die so like, I think u need to ease up a bit.

Literally might be dead in a few hours but he WILL dedicate those last few hours entirely to registering numerous complaints and insulting a 12 year old. I love him.

"THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM HUNTER, YOU TAKE THINGS TOO PERSONALLY." This is single handedly the funniest line in the show no intentional humor can beat Crosshair accusing other people of taking things too personally like he doesn't take every single action utterly personally to a pathological degree.

Omega trying very very hard to bond with Crosshair who is blocking her attempts to know him with the skill of an elite goalie.

You know my headcanon is still that AZI took Crosshair's chip out to save his life and that's why Crosshair was the one to say that the droid could do it. Nothing has actively shut this down either and with AZI possibly being the only one to know Crosshair's chip was enhanced I would LOVE for this to come back up.

I understand why Omega has to be in her own tube for plot related reasons but it is SO fucking funny that Echo and Tech are doubled up and SO ARE HUNTER AND CROSSHAIR instead of Hunter being in Omega's tube.

Our Get Along Tube

The sequence of AZI guiding the tubes is actually legit beautiful the GRACE of juggling all of them and the light of AZI's eyes in the dark

Genuinely the way they used AZI at the end of season 2 does not make up for how genuinely devastating AZI falling into the depths i- wait a fucking moment. Why is this so reminiscent of Tech's slow mo fall into the clouds?

Omega watching someone she loves slowly fall away from her. Will she try to save Tech in some way and need to get rescued herself? Hm. Much to think about.

I feel like people do overstate the moment of everyone aiming guns at Crosshair because like it is definitely mentally traumatic to Crosshair but they absolutely had their stun on. Sometimes I see people act like they were going to kill him lol.

Everyone looking at the ruins of Tipoca City because no matter how they felt about it, it was the only home they ever had. Seeing it just utterly in ruins like that, my HEART.

God they tried to give Crosshair a chance to come with them and he's just not READY YET. Well he'll have a lot of time to think about it here on Kamino. Lots of time.

Ughhhhh this is such a heartbreaking ending I need season 3 to end on a high note because this is SO DEPRESSING.

I understand why they wanted to put the Mt Tantiss hook in at the end but godddd does it throw off the pacing, Crosshair watching them fly away is like the perfect final shot.

#the bad batch rewatch

[marvelous-llama]

BTS recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

one shots

tunnel vision by @kooktrash

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 13k) university AU, barista AU - fluff, smut, angst? you’ve just gotten yourself a job working with the campus crush, kim taehyung. he’s quiet and brooding but everyone is obsessed with him including your best friend. what do you when she asks for your help in dating him when he’s catching feelings for you instead? he’s supposed to notice her but he’s got tunnel vision when it comes to you.

in my head by @sketchguk

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 8k) fwb to strangers?, university AU, unrequired love - angst, smut taehyung’s friends love you ー adore you. they probably want to fuck you, but they’ll never admit to it. instead, they’ll push taehyung’s limits in the middle of a frat party, testing just how close they can get to you before he takes you to bed in a fit of jealousy. and maybe, just maybe, one of his friends can have a taste too (if he’s lucky).

Good for Me by @icedmatchatae

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 7.8k) bad boy!Taehyung, university AU - fluff, smut You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

our secret by @archivedkookie

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 4.4k) secret relationship - fluff, smut Taehyung loves you and you love him, and it devastates him that he can’t show you to the world, not even his friends.

Let me heal you by @bethschamberoftales

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 26k) lawyer!Teahyung, crime/thriller, exboyfriend!Jungkook - angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort Maybe, You hate him, but you´re never going to regret meeting him previous part: Torn Apart (Jungkook x fem!reader)

a years interlude by @aseaofyoongi

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 10.9k) historical AU - angst, fluff, smut/mature a story of pain, healing, love, and the yearning of the heart.

Loverboy by @kookslastbutton

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 7.1k) established relationship - angst, fluff, smut After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

where feelings bloom by @aseaofyoongi

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 5.6k) best friends to lovers, pining - fluff, smut vacations are the time of self reflections and revelations. so, what happens when your last day in paradise involves you trying to decipher the feelings that you’ve had blooming for your best friend kim taehyung.

series

His Special by @kooktrash

Taehyung x fem!reader (wc - 12.5k + 13.5k) professor x student AU, secret relationship, university AU - angst, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student? part 1, part 2

#bts #bts x reader #bts recs #v #bts v #kim taehyung #taehyung #v x reader #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader