#got to do a tour last year with one of the professors & loved it

[bimbobaggins69]

Daddy Issues

older rockstar eddie x band mates daughter fem!reader

summary: you finally get to see corroded coffin live, and you really want to fuck the lead singer/guitarist, the only thing is he’s your dads best friend and your dad is the bassist.

⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, pictures are purely for aesthetic purposes, mentions of alcoholism, little mention of eddies past drug abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, age gap (reader is 21, eddie is in his 50s), dom eddie, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, spit play, cream pie, daddy kink, eddie and reader are bi.

A/N: another one shot, I actually enjoy writing these. Let me know what you think, I’m not sure whether I like this or not but, fuck it! It was fun to write.

It’s been four years since your dad became the bassist for corroded coffin, when he got the call after his audition you were already packing your things up for college—being accepted into Perdue university majoring in psychology.

You and your dad had a rocky relationship almost all of your life. He was an alcoholic and chronic womanizer, he cheated on your mom and every other woman that gave him the time of day—of course you loved him, but there were just too many things said and done that could never be taken back. He lived the rockstar lifestyle in every sense of the word for as long as you could remember, even being kicked out of bands for his rowdy behavior—so it was an utter miracle when he finally decided to go to rehab and get help, that was two years before he started touring with corroded coffin— now he’s completely changed his life around, which you couldn’t be more happy about. Since, he’s gotten extremely close to his band mate Eddie who is the guitarist and lead singer —they’ve apparently become best friends, Eddie even helping your dad with his sobriety since he had a drug problem years back, almost acting as his sponsor and trying to sway him from going back to that life as often as he could. You’ve never been able to meet any of the guys but you’ve watched some of their interviews during long nights of studying and have said hi through FaceTime calls, on occasion—you might have also developed a mini crush on the guitarist, but you’d never admit that.

After finally graduating college and returning home, you’ve been staying with your dad and his new wife Catherine—until you can fully get on your feet. Things have been great, but trying to hook up with men and women in your fathers house is just weird, even though he allows you your privacy and tries not to ask questions. In college you weren’t really the hook up type—you focused more on your studies, you may or may not have been fucking your English professor on the side, but we’re not gonna get into that.

It’s a lovely Friday afternoon when you get a FaceTime call from your dad, he’s been out of town for a couple weeks touring surrounding cities, and he has a show tomorrow night in town.

“Hello?” You say raising the phone to your face

“Hey, angel” your dad says—you can hear loud instruments in the background so they must be doing sound check

“Hey, dad what’s up?” You say with a sweet smile

“Just missed you kiddo, wanted to call and check in” he says warmly

“Miss you too, how’s tour?” You question

“Tours good, as good as it can be, now.” he says with a chuckle

You giggle back, knowing exactly what he means.

“Hey, listen angel, would you want to come to our show tomorrow night? Meet the guys and hangout backstage?” He questions with hopeful eyes

“Yeah, of course I’d love to!” You answer back with a big smile

“Okay, cool. I’ll put your name down on the list, when you get here just give it to them and they’ll bring you backstage” he says with excitement

“Cool, can’t wait! I’ll see you tomorrow then, be safe dad” you say shooting him one last smile

“Bye angel, see you tomorrow” he says before hanging up

As the day goes on and rolls into the next, you start getting ready for the show. You’re excited to see your dad—but you can’t lie to yourself, you’re really excited to see the sexy guitarist/lead singer, so of course you’re going to dress to impress— not that you have a chance, but a girl can dream

You have an hour before the show starts, you took forever to get ready perfecting your makeup and hair— you decide to wear your white corroded coffin shirt your dad sent you awhile back tucked into a plaid mini skirt, socks and your low platform doc martens. Finally you climb into your little Prius and head out to the show.

When you arrive it’s packed, the line is almost down the street, and there’s hints of weed smoke in the air. You walk up to the entrance door and give your name to the gentleman wearing a headset— as you give him your name, he says something into it and then ushers you off to head backstage.

You finally get backstage after pushing your way through a crowd— your dad spots you before you get the chance to look around, calling out to you with his hands cupped around his mouth, as you see him you smile and saunter over to him.

“Angel, I’m so happy you made it” he says as he fidgets around— he always gets nervous before a show no matter how many he’s played

He leans in and gives you a hug while kissing the top of your head— “of course I made it” you say as you both pull away

“I want to officially introduce you to the guys, let me find them first” he says

“It’s okay dad, just wait until after the show” you insist — “actually, where can I find a bathroom?” You ask

After your dad directs you to the nearest restroom you begin your quest but quickly get lost, you come across a couple red doors, as you’re walking down the hall one of them swings open and you come face to face with Eddie Munson, the man that has been haunting your dreams for 4 years, he walks out with a pretty blonde girl but she continues walking back to the crowd.

“Well hello,” he says with a smile — “you lost?” He asks

“Oh uh, no no I’m not lost” is all you’re able to stutter out

“You sure?” He says with curious eyes “pretty girl like you shouldn’t be back here, alone.” he says with a smirk

“Yeah,” you say clearing your throat “I’m not lost, I’m actually looking for the restroom” you say with pink tinted cheeks matching those of a cherub

Eddie’s eyes trail all over your body and back to your face as he licks his lips “I’m Matt’s daughter, y/n” you spit out as you hold out your hand. Fuck, why did you say that? He’s not gonna want you, after learning you’re his best friends, daughter.

“Oh, shit. Um, hi nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes your hand

“I gotta head back, we’re about to go on stage.” he says as he does his best to avoid looking at any other part of your body

“Ok” is all you can say, tone laced in disappointment

After you head to the backstage area, you decide to watch your dad and Eddie play from the side stage. The show is amazing, the crowd is crazy; with crowd surfers and pits, the whole band looks totally in their element, like they all really love what they do, which warmed your heart.

After the second encore is over, the guys clamber backstage, sweaty and out of breathe. Your dad picks you up and swings your body around, still buzzing off the high from performing, placing you down. He starts to call out to his band mates

“Guys, guys” he says as he waves his hands around. “this is my daughter, y/n. Y/n, these are the guys: Eddie, Gareth and Jeff” he says as he points to each individually

They all say “hi” in unison with a wave. All, except Eddie.

You wave back as you let out a shy “hi”

As you continue with your night, hanging out with your dad and the guys backstage. Some talks of going to a bar come up, and obviously your dad declines per suggested by Eddie. You see how close, him and your dad are. Laughing at only jokes they understood and silently talking with their eyes. You’ve never known your dad to keep friendships or relationships for that matter, so it was refreshing to see.

Your dad comes up to you to bid you a goodbye. He says that he needs to go home to see his wife and avoid all this temptation, you and Eddie chuckle at that.

“Well, I’ll go with you.” you say to him

“No, no. You stay here, hang out, get to know the guys, have fun, angel” he says as he heads towards the exit.

As the night went on you talked a lot with Gareth and Jeff about your dad, touring and how corroded coffin started. They were older and married so there were surprisingly no groupies backstage like you normally picture at a metal show. Eddie wasn’t married but he was trying to cut back on his sexual appetite of both men and women alike. He had his fare share of hook ups, and by fare share you mean he’s had a lot of sex and a lot of different partners all over the world since the 90s. But, as much as eddie was trying to control his “appetite” he couldn’t help but secretly sneak looks at you and your hot little body. Fuck, if you were both around the same age and you had come to one of his shows in the 90s, he would’ve definitely snatched you out of the crowd. He couldn’t deny your beauty, you must’ve gotten that from your mom, he thinks to himself.

Gareth and Jeff both head to the bar with their manager to have a couple drinks, while you and Eddie decline. As they leave Eddie whispers out a “fuck” while looking at his phone.

“You okay?” You ask

He looks up from his phone, as his jaw clenches.

“Uber keeps canceling” he says through gritted teeth

“Where are you headed? I drove here, I can just drop you off where you need to go.” you offer sweetly

“You sure?” He says with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide

“Yeah of course, I’m parked just over here.” you say as you head to the car park. You glance back to check if he’s following behind, as you do he shoots you a little side smile

You press the button on your keys unlocking the doors and before you can even get to it, Eddie is racing around to open it for you.

“It’s the least I can do” he says sending you a wink, that almost made your knees buckle. He gets in and after putting his hotel address in the maps app on your phone, you and him get to talking, laughing and maybe even a little flirting, if you’re reading it correctly, It’s almost like you both had known each other in a past life. You’ve never understood, why people say cheesy shit like that but woah, now you do.

Eddie can’t help but look at you when you talk, he’s enamored by your beauty and how eloquently you carry yourself, but you’re also witty and sarcastic, which he loves. You kind of remind him of himself just way prettier with an almost old soul maturity, he’s never had

As you pull up to his hotel, you don’t want to say goodbye, you wish you had the balls to ask if you could hang out more with him, but that might be weird considering you’re his friend/band mates daughter, and if your dad ever found out you were hanging out with Eddie one on one in his hotel, who knows how he’d react, your dad was kind of a loose canon in that way.

Suddenly Eddie’s voice broke you out of your all consuming thoughts—“do you want to uh, come up? I have a bottle of wine I don’t wanna finish alone” he says with a smile and the most adorable puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen

“Um” you says as you stare at your dash board “yeah, shit why not?” You say as you smile back, you park into one of the open spots and head up to Eddie’s hotel room.

Once inside he tells you to get comfortable, and says you can sit or lay on the bed if you’d like, so you choose the latter— you toe off your docs and crawl onto the king sized bed, plopping your head against the fluffy pillow—as you lay there your eyes follow Eddie around the room, his pants hanging low on his hips, shirt hiked up a bit from him rubbing his hand underneath it, he grabs two glasses and the bottle of wine out of the small fridge and walks back to the bed setting them down on the nightstand— “I’m gonna take a quick shower, is that okay? Like five minutes I just want to rinse off” he says — “be my guest” you say as you gesture towards the bathroom, making him smile

He wasn’t lying when he said five minutes because once you heard the shower stop you looked at the time on your phone and it had been exactly five minutes—butterflies began erupting in the pit of your stomach, you’re alone with this man you have fantasied about for years, thinking those thoughts would never come to fruition, since the whole situation was completely taboo—but holy shit here you are in his hotel room alone with him, if you wanted to make a move you totally could.

Eddie walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his hips water droplets adorning his skin, holy fuck was all you could think as you gawked at him from your place on the bed

“You like what you see?” He says to you with a devious smirk

“I do” you accidentally blurt out, cherub cheeks returning from earlier

“Oh?” Eddie says with his eyebrows raised “is that right?” His tone becoming increasingly more sexy and almost dark

At this point you’re so turned on you say “fuck it” and decide to indulge in his little game, hoping the prize is his dick buried deep inside of you by the end “mhmm I do, Eddie” you say as you bite your lip—that’s the first time you’ve said his name all night and it made his dick twitch, well that and that sexy fucking look on your face—he can’t hold back any longer, he knew what he was doing inviting you up, but he held out hope that he could be strong and just have a little night cap with a friend who he’s instantly clicked with, but Eddies not as strong as he thought he was.

“Watch out baby, not sure you know what you’re asking for, there” he says with a pleased look on his face — “Eddie I’m a grown woman, I know exactly what I’m asking for” you challenge back with a raised eyebrow -oh you were good- he thought to himself

“You sure that’s what you want, princess?” He asks eyes almost as eager as yours—the pet name made your pussy flutter

“Yes, Eddie I want you, please?” You say with innocent eyes as he’s walking up to the side of the bed you’re sitting on, the wine on the nightstand completely forgotten about

“Mmm, not sure you can handle me, baby” he says back with a shit eating grin

“Well then I guess your gunna have to stretch my tight little pussy out so I can, handle you” you shoot back with a smile matching his—Eddie’s face instantly dropping into a look of hunger that made a chill run down your spine, and made your heart speed up

As his thighs hit the side of the bed, you get up on your knees and crawled over to him, he reaches out grabbing your lower back and pulling you flush against his body— but instead of kissing you like you expected, he reaches to put some hair behind your ear as he whispers out a “so beautiful” that made your eyes slightly water—growing up you never heard words of affirmation, like that and now every time you did, it made you want to cry

“Thank you” you whisper back with a wobbly voice

Eddie grabs your chin and brings your eyes up to look at his—“you okay, sweet thing?” He asks and you nod with a smile

“I really want this Eddie” you whisper back “I have for awhile”

He seems taken aback by your words as his eyes widen

“What do you mean for awhile?” He says curiously

“Ever since I watched a stupid interview of yours after my dad made the band” —- the mention of your dad, slightly making him cringe but not enough to stop

“Did you have a little crush on me, baby?” He says cockily

“I did”—“I do” you say as you correct yourself

“Aw, that’s cute, that’s real cute”—“what the boys in college not doing it for you?” He teases

“I’m not interested in boys” you shoot back “I only associate with men” you say with the same eloquence he thought about in the car

“Well lucky for you baby, I’m all man” he says making you snort out a laugh at his cheesy line

He tackles you onto the bed playfully, as he kisses all over your face—this felt too perfect, like it’s something you both had been doing for years, not like you’d just met for the first time tonight

Finally he kisses your lips, giving you a few pecks before it starts to turn heavy, he slips his tongue into your mouth rubbing it against yours, he was an amazing kisser—you definitely didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten that way—but woah you’ve never gotten wet from just making out before—his hands start to roam over your body, down to your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. He breaks the kiss to look down at your spread legs—pretty red see through panties on display for him “fuck” he moans out as he notices the wet spot, just for him—“look at that baby” he whispered down to you “fucking pussies already so wet for me”—“did my kisses do that to you, baby?” He asks

“Yes, everything you do gets me so wet” you whine out

“Mmm, is that right?” — “I like the sound of that, maybe I’ll keep you, princess. Use this wet little pussy every time I come back from a show, would you like that?” — “I would, daddy, I would love that” you moan out

“Daddy?” Eddie says as his eyebrows raise into his bangs

“Shit, sorry if that’s weird” you say back tone full of embarrassment

“Ya know, it shouldn’t turn me on coming from you, but fuck, everything you do is so sexy”—-“well lucky for you I never call my dad that, it’s only reserved for someone special” you say as you bite your lip—“oh really? Special you say?” He says with a smirk—-“okay yeah, I can be your daddy, that means something different to you kids today anyway, right?” He says “I’m not a kid, but yeah exactly” you say back

Eddie begins kissing you again, this time with more passion and desire, he reaches down between your thighs rubbing over you clothed pussy—“can I take your panties off, sweet girl?” He says as his eyes bore down into yours

“Yes, please” you say in a sweet tantalizing voice

He begins ridding you of your red thong as he shoots them toward his nightstand, they land on the neck of the wine bottle and you both laugh—“I’m keeping those” eddie says to you as he brings his fingers down to your dripping sex, he gently runs his calloused finger tips over your little bundle of nerves, making you moan out—“that’s right baby, let me hear you” he whispers as he begins nipping at your neck— Eddie moves his fingers down to gather your slick and then returns back to your clit—“can I taste you, baby?” He asks sweetly

“Please Eddie, yes” you can’t help but moan out

He decides to lift up your shirt to take it off—“cute shirt by the way” he says as he pulls it off of your body and over your head, making you giggle. Once your shirts off, Eddie reaches behind your back expertly unhooking your matching red bra with one hand, letting the straps fall down around your arms, he picks it up and throws it haphazardly across the bed, landing in front of the desk on the other side of the room

He begins moving down your body, with soft calculated kisses, occasionally sucking different spots, he stops and lays in front of your most intimate area, grabbing your thighs to spread them a bit more and getting a good look at you all wet and bare before him—-he growls as he sees your pussy on display for him “fuck, you have such a pretty pussy, baby”—“bet it tastes even better” he says as he kisses the top of your mound where a little patch of dark curly hair sits, you bite your lip at the intimacy of it—-this didn’t feel like just a one night stand or random lay, it felt special— Eddie begins by licking you from your little hole to your clit finally giving it the attention it so badly wanted, you moan out as he swirls his tongue around it and then takes it into his mouth, lightly sucking—-nothing but loud moans and filthy sounds of sucking and licking fill the room—-“oh my god, Eddie yes right there, that’s so good, daddy” you borderline scream out—god this man knew how to use his tongue, he was incredible.

He continues to lick and suck as he brings two fingers to your entrance, he gently pushes them inside of you stretching you out for what’s about to come, your moans get louder and he can’t help but smile—your moans sound like the best song he’s ever heard, he wants to hear them over and over again forever

Once he curls his fingers up and hits that spot deep inside that you were never able to reach, the coil in your belly begins to tighten and your legs shake as your hand reaches down to tangle in his hair—“that’s it baby, cum for me, cum for daddy” he says pulling you over the edge, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, you grip his hair and mewl out obscenities—- after you’ve fully come down from your high, Eddie moves up your body, You can feel the hardness rubbing up against your overstimulated sex, you grab the towel around his waist and rip it off as you look down waiting to see the dick you’ve had wet dreams about, it springs out all pretty and pink, thick and curved, pre cum oozing from the tip, it twitches a couple times and all you can think about is having it buried deep inside your throat—“can I please suck your cock?” You ask up at him with puppy dog eyes, silently begging and Eddie can’t believe how such filthy words could come out such a beautifully, innocent looking face—but it makes him growl, makes another side of him, he didn’t want to show you, come out.

“Get on your knees on the floor, now” he demands, change of voice throwing you off

“Now, don’t make me say it again!” he growls back — “yes, daddy” you say as you hop off the bed and fall down to your knees in front of his leaking tip “open up wide” he says, voice laced in desperation, you open your mouth as wide as you can while sticking your tongue out—“good girl, that’s a good fucking girl, you take direction so good baby” he says “good girls get rewarded, okay? So keep listening to daddy and he’ll take care of you, understand?” He says, you nod as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock

He grabs your hair and pulls your head back while he bends down to get in your face “nope, I need words baby” he says through gritted teeth “yes, daddy” you whimper out in shock at his behavior, no one has ever been this rough with you but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy gush, you were loving this—“that’s it, good girl, open that mouth up wide again for me, sweetheart” he says—you open up and stick your tongue back out, Eddie let’s a glob of spit fall right onto it, making you moan out—-fuck this man was gunna be the death of you, you didn’t know you could get this turned on from such filthy acts you only seen done in porn—but here you are wetness dripping down your thighs from how worked up you’re getting

You leave Eddie’s spit on your tongue as he begins to work his cock into your mouth, spit mixing with yours to make the tip and base extra wet, he bucks his hips hitting your throat, you breath through your nose and take him to the hilt, eyes watering and jaw tingling— “that’s it, that’s a good girl” — “fuck baby that mouth of yours is amazing” he says as he begins moving in and out of your mouth. He moans out your name and a couple fucks as he gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail, guiding you up and down on his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat—finally he lifts you up and off of him back up to your feet. Your lips and chin filled with spit and pre cum, cheeks and eyes filled with tears—“fuck you’re so pretty, baby, look so fucking pretty for me” he says as he kisses your lips, backing you up until your legs hit the bed and guiding you to lay down as he grabs and spreads your thighs, he gets down into your face as he asks “are you ready, sweet girl?”

“Yes, yes I’m ready please” you respond with a whine

“Whatever princess wants” he said with a gentle smile, a complete 360 to how he was just treating you earlier, but you didn’t care, you really liked both sides of him

He begins to line himself up with your entrance, cock still wet with your spit, as he pushes in, you can feel yourself stretching for him, but it felt so good, so full. “Oh my god, yes! Don’t stop please” you moan out “I know baby I know, i won’t stop, I won’t fucking stop” he says as he begins thrusting deeper and faster inside you, he brings his forehead down to yours as you both moan into each others mouths—-this wasn’t fucking, this felt like love making and so different from any sex you’ve ever had—-it felt intimate and sensual, like Eddie fit your body like a missing puzzle piece

“Oh fuck, baby, your pussies so tight, it feels so good, so good”… he continued repeating

Your belly filling with that familiar burn as your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, your pussy tightening around his cock even more, making him moan out—“fuckin pussy just milking my cock, where do you want it baby?” He says as he bites his lip “inside me please, please cum inside me daddy” you grunt out “fuck, fuck I’m cumming!” He shouts as white spurts paint your insides.

Eddie falls on top of you, kissing all over your face again, making you laugh—“I’ll be right back” he says, after a couple minutes he’s coming back to clean up his mess between your thighs. You move back to your place on the pillow as Eddie lays beside you, pulling you into his chest “that was”…”wow” he says —-“yeah” you say back, you both laid there in silence staring up at the ceiling

-fuck I’m in trouble- Eddie thought to himself

THANK YOU FOR READING! 💗

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[avatar-anna]

The Final Show

this is the first of a few oneshots i'm doing of harry's final show(s). currently working on ones for professor and latina!y/n, but those will come later. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"What are you doing over there?"

Y/n had been looking for her husband for the last fifteen minutes. Rehearsals were wrapped up a while ago, the sounds of fans waiting to enter the venue were echoing through certain hallways, and everyone had kind of scattered to their own corners before it was time to really start getting ready. Y/n had taken advantage of the downtime to put Natalia and Geneva down for a nap and feed her other children, and now that the twins were playing with their toys, and Simone and Collette were watching a movie with Jeff, she took it upon herself to look for Harry, who had quietly disappeared without anyone noticing.

She'd checked out all his usual hiding places—the kids' dressing room/playroom, craft services, his own dressing room—but he was nowhere to be found. Y/n wasn't even going to check the stage, but she'd heard noise coming from an open door and decided to follow it.

Harry was sitting by himself at a piano, playing a melody Y/n hadn't heard before. He didn't play the piano often, as he wasn't as confident in his ability to play as he was with the guitar. Even after all these years, he still got self-conscious playing in front of people, especially new material. Y/n knew he had no reason to be shy about playing any kind of instrument or showing off a new song, but she made her presence known to him before approaching anyway, giving her husband time to pause and collect himself.

"Just messing around," he said. Turning his head, Harry smiled, then opened his arms up toward her.

Y/n took the invitation and sat down in his lap, her arms immediately reaching around his neck to play with his hair. "You ready for tonight?" she asked, leaving the topic of the piano alone. For now. He'd open up to her eventually.

"Think so," Harry said. "I'm excited to come home and spend some real time with you and the kids, but..."

"I get it. It's okay to miss this," she told him, running the back of her knuckle against his cheekbone.

Their lives were so polarizing at times, and Y/n understood his mixed emotions about the end of the tour better than anybody. She knew how much Harry loved performing and traveling and creating such unique memories with his band and crew and fans, especially the fans. But he loved his family too, and while it was nice to have the kids on tour, it was a completely different thing to be a proper parent at home, and Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to being a semi-normal family again.

"It's gonna be an emotional night, that's for sure," Harry concluded, leaning forward to kiss Y/n's cheek. "Got lots of fun stuff planned."

"I can't wait."

And, just because they were alone and she could, Y/n leaned in, hand tightening in the back of his hair as her mouth slid over his.

The kiss was long and slow, languid and easy, so unlike the hurried pecks they gave each other when they were running around doing a million different things. It made Y/n melt against Harry's chest, had him gripping her hips a little tighter.

"I'm gonna miss it too, you know," Y/n said, mumbling the words against the scruff on his jaw.

"Are you?" Harry asked, half teasing, half serious.

Y/n took her time answering, kissing his neck and around his ear first before going back to take his bottom lip between her teeth. "Of course. You know I love watching you perform. And I love traveling and showing the kids all sorts of things. And I love your post-performance adrenaline rush."

Harry chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind Y/n's ear. "Oh. So that's what you're going to miss."

"Among other things," she said with a playful shrug.

One thing Y/n could count on was the last of Harry's energy being spent totally on her. Whether it was the moment he stepped offstage and he dragged her into his dressing room for a quickie, or late at night once all six of their children were asleep, he always worked himself up enough during his shows that he had to dispel his adrenaline somehow, and that was usually with his wife. And after hours of being a mom and changing diapers and putting a stop to fights and making sure everyone ate their veggies and no one had strayed too far away, she loved being the center of Harry's attention. When he had a good show, she had a good night, when he had an excellent show...well, Y/n was usually left feeling like she'd been the one performing for hours.

Pulling her impossibly closer, he said, "I'll just have to find another way to satisfy you, then."

"You always do."

When they kissed again, Y/n's heart fluttered in her chest, excitement from a multitude of things putting her in a good mood. And she could tell Harry felt the same, his hands eagerly gripping what they could, just stopping short of reaching beneath her clothes.

"I think I'm gonna play something special tonight," he muttered against her lips after a few minutes passed.

Y/n nearly grinned at how well she knew her husband. She managed to contain it and pull back just enough to say, "Oh?"

Harry shrugged and tried to be casual, but his words were anything but. "I've had this melody playing in the back of my mind all day."

"You should play it then. I think everyone will love it," Y/n said, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved up, dimples indenting his cheeks. "I think tonight is gonna be one for the history books."

Y/n smiled at him endearingly as she couldn't help but agree.

*.*

"I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past thirteen years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support," Harry said into the mic.

For a moment, his eyes darted to the side of the stage where Y/n was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. Simone was standing next to her and cheering, with Collette on Simone's other side and waving at Harry with a big grin. The twins were on Y/n's other side, and GiGi was standing tiredly on her feet, a large set of noise-cancelling headphones on her head. One little hand was gripping Y/n's finger, though by the quick look Harry took, she was not a happy camper.

She wants you, Y/n mouthed with a shrug. Harry's heart squeezed for a moment, then quickly blew Geneva a kiss before continuing his speech.

The concert continued on, and Harry performed his heart out. Y/n watched from the side of the stage with Natalia in her arms, occasionally spinning Jules and Maeve around or dancing with Simone and Collette. It was technically past their bedtime, but Y/n decided that tonight was a special occasion. They would be home soon and back to their normal schedule anyway. What was one night of fun?

Harry kept looking over to where she and the kids were, and each time she gave him a thumbs up or blew him a kiss while the twins, Simone, and Collette waved at him excitedly and shouted, "Daddy!" GiGi was still in a bit of a mood, not quite understanding why she couldn't go to Harry when he was so close, but then again, she was turning out to be a bit of a daddy's girl, so Y/n wasn't all that surprised.

There was one point toward the end of the show where Harry became so overcome with emotions that he sank to his knees. Y/n didn't have to be a mind reader to know what was going through his head. It had been a very emotional few years, more than any of his fans would be able to understand. They'd gone through a lot—as parents and as partners—but everything they'd endured and sacrificed and experienced had led right to this moment. Y/n knew that this tour itself contained some of the happiest moments of Harry's life simply because of the environment and the energy created by his fans, but she also knew that having his family close by for a majority of it, and knowing that they were on the other side of a lot of the obstacles they'd previously been facing, played a part in that joy too.

A strong wave of emotion took over Y/n then too, making her throat go tight and her eyes well with tears. No one in the crowd except a select few would truly understand exactly what Harry meant when he talked about family and support. He truly would not be the same person he was today if it weren't for the seven people off to the side of the stage. Just a couple years ago, their lives were so different, there were so many unknowns, but right now, everything seemed to be perfect, and Y/n understood Harry more than anyone when he expressed that he wasn't quite ready to let it all go.

Caught up in her own emotions, Y/n noticed too late that Geneva had slipped her hand out of Y/n's. Before she could even utter a word, the two year old was running straight for Harry, who was still kneeling onstage with his hands covering his face.

For a moment, Y/n's heart stopped. This wasn't how this was meant to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen at all. Harry, Y/n, and Harry's team had been so careful about keeping their children's identity safe, out of the public eye. Things were slowly starting to change with Y/n going with Harry to the Grammys, and the documentary that was set to release a few months after Love on Tour ended would definitely bring their family out into the public. But those were all carefully selected events. GiGi running out onstage while one hundred thousand people, and possibly more, were watching was not part of the plan.

Y/n watched the scene unfold before her with slight terror and a boatload of anxiety swelling in her chest. She wasn't sure if Harry was too lost in his own head to notice his daughter run up to him or if she'd start crying as the screams from the crowd increased tenfold.

Thankfully, Harry's reaction was immediate. He looked surprised, like he couldn't quite believe Geneva was suddenly next to him onstage at his show. One look at Y/n's face seemed to tell him everything, though, and his smile was surprisingly relaxed for someone whose daughter the world didn't know about just ran out onstage.

*.*

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out here, huh?" Harry asked, kissing Geneva's forehead gently, keeping his voice soft as he spoke to her. He was sort of freaking out on the inside, but he tried not to show it, seeing as Y/n was already visibly worried about the situation at hand.

"Home, Daddy," she said, her chubby baby cheeks making her pout all the more adorable.

"You ready for bed, my love?"

GiGi nodded, then promptly rested her head against his chest, making it clear she didn't want to be anywhere else at the moment. And part of Harry didn't want to hand her off to anyone else. He loved it when any of his kids came to him for comfort. It made him feel so fulfilled when all any of them wanted was a cuddle from Dad.

But at the same time, he still had a show to put on. In a split second, an idea formed in Harry's head, and all it took was one look to his band for them to catch his meaning. They started to play a melody, an early transition into the next song while he took care of Geneva.

As he stood up, Harry was careful to turn his back to the crowd so that as little of his daughter's face was shown to the crowd as possible. He trusted the camera team to focus themselves anywhere else but him right now, but that didn't account for the thousands of phones most likely pointed in his and Geneva's direction; though, as he paid a little more attention, he realized that the crowd was quiet, like they could tell that the baby in his arms was trying to sleep and didn't want to disturb her.

That thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he stepped offstage where Y/n was trying to position Natalia so she could hold GiGi too. When he reached her, Harry rested a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Relax, Mama. I've got her."

"I'm so sorry, H. She took off so fast, and I—"

"It's okay. I promise," Harry said. "She asleep yet?"

Y/n looked at where Geneva's cheek squished against her dad's chest. "Getting there."

"Five minutes, then," Harry said simply, trying to relax Y/n, who still looked terrified. Leaning in, he murmured so that only she could hear. "It's okay, Mama. We'll figure it out after. Let's just enjoy tonight, yeah? Think of the post-performance adrenaline, hm?"

That got Y/n to smile and nod slightly. He waited until the tension in her shoulders eased, then looked at the rest of his family, who also looked a little surprised that Geneva ran onstage in the middle of the show. Julian was the first to recover his shock and launched himself at Harry, which caused Maeve to jump up and down around him.

"Did you see us, Daddy? We were dancing to your song!"

"I did, JuJu. You were so good!"

"What about me, Daddy?"

"Can I go onstage too?"

"I want to play music with Pauli!"

Harry sighed, knowing they couldn't go out onstage. He could only imagine how fun—and chaotic—that would be, but it was still important that his little family stayed safe and unknown to the public.

"You know what, Maevie? I think we should let Pauli focus on the show, but maybe you can play music with him tomorrow," Y/n said gently, running a finger along Maeve's cheek.

It was clear Maeve didn't love that idea, and Harry was worried that she was going to pitch a fit or start crying, but Simone walked over to her sister. "We can play band right here, Maevie. You can be Pauli, and JuJu can be Uncle Mitch and Collette can be Auntie Sarah and play the drums."

Harry couldn't have loved his oldest daughter more than he did right then. She was always so good with her brother and sisters, even though they were a lot younger than her. He gave Y/n a look, who had passed Natalia off to Glenne, who had shown up with Jeff backstage after the whole toddler-running-onstage incident. Y/n smiled and reached for Geneva again, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze to the hand.

"Go. Your fans are waiting for you."

Harry passed Geneva to Y/n, almost a little reluctantly, even though he knew he had to get back out there, that the five minutes he allowed himself were almost up. Almost like she could see the hesitancy on his face, Y/n leaned in one more time. "Go, baby. That post-performance adrenaline isn't going to make itself, and I want to celebrate tonight."

That was enough for him to finally hand over Geneva. Grinning, he kissed Y/n, then kissed the heads of each of his kids. Harry shook his head and his hands, trying to get back into his performance headspace, trying to forget about the fact that his daughter just revealed herself to the public. All of that could be dealt with after the show. Right now, there was a crowd waiting for him to give them the finale they deserved, and Harry would be damned if he didn't give it to them.

[ennabear]

hii !! 🫶🏻 just discovered your account and i love it !! :) i was wondering if you could write some more headcannons about ellie? like, what job would she do? etc. i like to think that if she existed today, she'd probably be an illustrator for children's books !! that'd be so cool, tbh. i can see her making books about space or dinosaurs, and going to book fairs at schools to meet kiddos and talk to them about it. (crossover with professor!abby who used to teach little kids 🫶🏻🫶🏻) aah. sorry for rambling. but like, i just think ellie would have a blast if she existed today. like with all the museums ?? all the new ways to make art ?? but anyway !! what are *your* headcannons for modern ellie !! 🪐🫶🏻

modern!ellie’s job!! (hc) 🦕

thx for the request bae cause this made me smile so big. i have SO many hcs for modern ellie like i’ve been waiting for this moment!!!!! also dw about rambling i love to hear your thoughts 🤗

ok for starters i think ellie would be a nerd in high school. i know that some people headcanon her as a jock or a stoner (and that ellie has a special place in my heart) but i definitely think she’d be the opposite tbh. i imagine her with only a few friends (dina, jesse, cat). and i also think she’d have insanely good grades because she’s just smart like that. and all of her teachers love her because even though she’s quiet, she’s really kind and creative.

also i think her family would be just her and joel and maybe a dog. like imagine her spending her weekends getting guitar lessons from joel and then taking her dog on a walk and documenting it in her journal. she would fr have such a blast!!!!

for college i definitely think she’d major in astronomy/astrophysics or maybe art history?? and in her last years of college, she’d get a job as a secretary for a science museum. honestly, she didn’t hate it, but she was super jealous of the tour guide because she got to take all of the cute little kids on a walk and talk about the fun stuff while ellie had to sit behind a desk all day. but after begging her supervisor enough, she’d get promoted to tour guide after the mean old lady who used to do it retired.

and guess what??? the kiddos loved her!!! she always made sure the kids were having a great time and she knew a lot about what she was talking about, whether it was dinosaurs or planets or volcanoes. and the joke book came everywhere with her!! absolutely nothing made her happier than hearing the little monsters giggling and squealing about a joke that wasn’t even that funny.

abby and ellie would become good friends because of the time abby took her class to the museum on a field trip. they ended up actually really liking each other, especially because they had so much in common. and sometimes after work they’d meet up at a bar and talk about life, it was nice for them to both have a new friend who was equally as nerdy.

ellie would be a tour guide for quite a few years while abby got her doctorate. a few years after abby became a professor, ellie tried out illustrating a childrens book for a local visitor at the museum who was really fond of ellie. it was nothing too big, but she was really proud of it.

after she finished the drawings for the book, she wanted to try writing one of her own. so she decided to write a textbook for kids about dinosaurs with her own illustrations and a joke on every page.

safe to say it was super successful!!! she ended up going to local elementary schools and educating the littles about the different types of dinosaurs and each era they lived in. and you better believe old man joel was so proud!!!! his little girl ellie that he used to take to dinosaur museums was now writing her own dinosaur books!!!

i think eventually she’d quit her job at the museum and focus on being a writer full time, along with keeping art as a hobby. and i can 100% see her getting married and adopting a kid just like joel adopted her, and she’d pass on all of her science knowledge to her mini self. also i think she’d mainly only write science textbooks for kids, but may end up publishing a sci-fi novel or two.

i think that’s all :3 thanks for the ask sweetie pie ilysm 🫶

daily click / israeli themes in tlou

[starrgaziinggg]

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS | lee minho

PART ONE

You finally meet the man your friends Felix and Hyunjin have been blabbing about for the past couple months, and he's a royal pain in the ass.

Lee Minho is a legacy at your university. He received an honorary award when he graduated, got a position as a dancer in a company a week after receiving his diploma...and was renowned as the schools famous ice-cold fuckboy.

After coming back from a three month tour, you're introduced to him through your uni friends...and your life does a 180. It's hard enough to pass classes whilst also trying to navigate your failing relationship...but the added tension that comes with the dance prodigy you seem to be spending more and more time with?

Some would say it's too much to handle.

|Non idol AU|university AU|friends to lovers|

part one

"It's answer B."

Your brain fails to compute the sentence, instead shutting off the world again as you continue your deep sleep.

Until, that is, someone to your left elbows you in the boob.

"What the..." taking your head off of your arms you sit up straight, trying to get a better grasp of your surroundings. To your right, you see Felix looking at you with wide eyes. You look to the teacher of your lecture at the front of the class and, of course, he is staring straight back at you. You look back at your blonde haired friend, who's mouthing the letter, 'B' over and over.

"B?" You say out loud, your answer coming off as a question as your voice comes out deep from sleep.

"The correct answer, however it would have been more beneficial if Mr Lee hadn't have given the answer to you. And, for the love of god, please stop falling asleep in my classes," your professor sighs, paying his attention back to teaching the rest of the students.

"Thanks for the help, Lix," you say to him sleepily. He just gives you a warm smile back.

"Um, hello? If I didn't wake you up you'd never have given him an answer in the first place," Hyunjin says with an annoyed tone from the left of you.

"All you did was assault me, pervert," you say to him with an eye roll. He scoffs and pushes your shoulder. You pretend it's the sorest thing you've ever felt and flop over Felix, clutching your shoulder. Hyunjin just gives you his signature disgusted look before paying his attention back to the lecture.

"Why are you so tired for, anyway?" Felix asks you quietly, and Hyunjin turns to face you to listen to your answer.

"I have this stupid dance thing I need to do for this showcase one of our dance teachers signed me up for, and I have never been more uninterested in learning a dance in my entire life," you moan. "It's so mundane. It literally sends me to sleep every time I try to learn it."

"That bad huh?" Felix whispers. You widen your eyes and nod your head.

"I'll show you it later and you'll understand where I'm coming from," you reply. "It's only the second week of semester one and I've already given up."

Hyunjin, Felix and you were third years in university, the three of you studying the same dance course. You'd banded together after being paired for the group practical dance exam last December, quickly realising you were probably the three most capable dancers on your course. You'd nailed the exam, gone out for drinks to celebrate and been close friends ever since.

"We can go to the rec later today to see it, since we finish classes early today," Hyunjin says, and you nod your head. The rec was what everyone called the recreational dance studio. There were a number of studios in the arts department, including the rec (the more run down, lesser used studio), the more modern set of studios in the new dance building which were used constantly and lastly the huge, high ceilinged building that stood separately. It was where classes were taught and it was gorgeous, the interior grand and old fashioned, but you had to book to use it out with class hours.

You turned and desperately tried to focus on the lecturer. This particular lecturer, Mr Kim, seemed to sport a grudge specifically reserved for you, and it was starting to really piss you off. He'd always pick on you to give answers during class, especially when he could tell you weren't paying enough attention.

When your lecture finally ends, you pack your stuff up into your bag and follow the two boys out of the lecture hall and onto the courtyard of your university campus.

"That was the most boring hour of my life," Hyunjin complains as the three of you fall into step towards your last class of the day, practical dance.

"You say that after every non practical dance class," Felix points out, and Hyunjin just mimics him with a roll of his eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

"You coming out with us tonight?" He asks you. The boys were constantly trying to get you out with their friend group, for whatever reason. You'd met some of their friends before; Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung since the three boys also attended the same university as you. There were others, though, you hadn't met. Chan, Changbin and the famous Lee Minho. He was the only one out of the group who's name you'd recognised when the boys had talked about their friends. Albeit for all the wrong reasons.

"Don't think so," you say, and the two boys groan in unison. "I have a lot to do! I don't see the two of you with a showcase to prepare for."

"That's because you're a better dancer than us," Felix says, giving you a nudge. Hyunjin removes his arm from your shoulders and goes to walk backwards, facing you.

"Speak for yourself, Lix. I could give her a run for her money," he says cockily, before returning to your side. "Anyway, you hardly ever come out with us when it's not school related. We're starting to thing you're really boring."

"Hey!"

"That's not true," Felix says, but you see Hyunjin raise an eyebrow. "We just enjoy spending time with you, and our friends are always asking when they can see you next. Lino is desperate to meet the dance prodigy friend."

"And who might that be?" You say jokingly. You'd been dancing since you could walk, and you'd been told time and time again you had an exceptional talent for the sport. You worked hard, you put in the time and effort and most of the time it paid off. "Who's Lino?"

"Don't be dim," Hyunjin says to you. "And it's Minho, Lino's his nickname."

"You know, our friend who's now a professional dancer?" Felix said and you nodded, knowing exactly who Minho was.

You finally arrived to the practical dance studio and entered, dumping your stuff and changing your shoes to a pair you felt comfortable dancing in. This was your hip-hop style class, one of your favourites, so you were just wearing joggers, a crop top and trainers.

"He's just came back home from his tour, that's why we're going out tonight - to celebrate," Felix explains, tying his blonde mullet back into a ponytail. Hyunjin does the same with his long blonde hair, having recently dyed it bleach blonde from his jet black, matching Felix. The two of them sweat profusely when they dance, so if they don't tie it up, things get messy.

"Please come," Hyunjin says once he snaps the bobble into place. You flip your head over so you can tie your own hair up, too. "It will be fun!"

"I would love to, but..." you trail off, and the two boys give each other a look, eyebrows raised.

"If this is about that boyfriend of yours being a dickhead," Hyunjin starts, but stops when Felix slaps him on the arm. "Hey! You've said it yourself; he is a dickhead!"

"Yeah, but he's her boyfriend," Felix says with a sympathetic smile. "Is it, though?"

You huff at the two boys with preying eyes, awaiting your response. "None of your business."

"It definitely is," Hyunjin says to Felix loud enough for you to hear, and you shove him gently. As dramatic as your friend is, he stumbles back, clutching his shoulder. At that moment, your dance teacher for this particular class walks in and you start stretching.

You loved the hip hop style of dance this class taught, as it was very different to the styles you'd grown up learning. Contemporary and ballet was your strong suit, but you loved to step out of your comfort zone.

The class flew by, as most of your practical classes did. It was safe to say the three of you preferred your practical classes much better than your written classes. By the end of it, you were energetic and pumped up, fuelled by dancing, whereas your two friends were sweating in a heap on the floor.

"How you're still standing is beyond me," Felix huffs, rolling so that is back is on the floor. "That was the most intense class ever."

Hyunjin fist bumps him before dramatically smacking his hand back into the floor and making a huge deal out of it when it obviously hurt.

"It was so much fun! You don't understand how much I've been wanting to dance something interesting after doing the choreo for the showcase," you say, sitting down beside your friends and pulling out your phone. Your best friend Sooyun had messaged you a couple times asking what time your classes finished and what you were doing for the rest of the day, but you'd had radio silence from your boyfriend, Doha. Typical.

"So, what's the showcase for anyway?" Felix asks, finally heaving himself up into a sitting position.

"It's some back to school thing, for the arts department in the universities in our area. I don't really know, all I know is it's prestigious, one person gets chosen from each school to compete and if I win I'll get a money reward for the uni," you explain as much as you can since you don't really know much about it. You were given the choreo from one of your dance teachers, learned it, and that's all you could do.

"Well done for getting picked," Hyunjin says, no hostility in his voice. The three of you managed to get along so well because you were genuinely happy for each others achievements. Most people on the same course would feel resentment when someone was chosen for something and they weren't, but that was never the case for the three of you. "Is it something we can come watch?"

"Well this year our university is hosting it, so you can come if you want to. It will be super boring though, just warning you," you say, but secretly it gives you a feeling of warmth that they're interested in seeing you perform. Sooyun hadn't bothered asking about watching you, and Doha said he'd probably be busy. It wasn't as if you expected them to drop everything and watch you do something mundane, however a little appreciation would be nice.

You all start packing up your things and head out the door, starting the short walk to the rec. When you reach it, you see a couple other dance students are practicing various dances or just chilling with their friends. The best thing about the rec was that it was constantly open, so students could use it whenever they needed, which came in clutch during exam time. It was almost constantly full when practical dance exams were due.

"Okay," Felix says, finding an open space and slumping down to sit against the mirrored wall. "Show us the dance."

Hyunjin takes your bag and sits beside Felix, placing your bag next to him and raising his eyebrows as if to say, 'go on.' You use your phone to put on the music your teacher had sent you and place it on the floor as you begin the dance. You had the choreography nailed, but since it was so boring, as you watched yourself dance in the mirror even you felt as though you were watching an eighty year old attempt an interesting dance.

Hyunjin and Felix watched patiently until the music stopped and you did your ending pose, not a drop of sweat on you. Felix attempted a weak smile while Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

"I understand what you mean," he said instantly, and you laughed, sitting on the floor in front of the boys. "How are you ever supposed to win?"

"Exactly! It's like she's set me up for failure," you whine, referring to your dance teacher.

"My sisters created more interesting dances for me when they were toddlers," Felix laughs, pulling you up from the floor after your dramatically lie back, ashamed of the dance you'll have to perform next week.

"Honestly? I'm super tempted to just re do the choreo. How will the judges know? It's not as if it's a set choreography or anything, this is genuinely what Ms Kwon created for me," you explain, a mischievous twinkle in your eye which both boys noticed.

"Look, I like Ms Kwon. She's a good teacher...but she cannot choreograph for shit. It's a known fact, have you not heard the other practical teachers talk shit about her?" Hyunjin comments, and Felix nods his head, turning to give Hyun a look.

"I know that look," you say quizzically. "What are you thinking?"

"If Yongbok is thinking what I'm thinking...that we spend the rest of our afternoon re-choreographing your shit dance and you win the competition," Hyunjin says confidently, looking at Felix for confirmation. Felix sends him back a wild grin, and the two boys turn to you expectantly.

You raise a skeptical eyebrow. "I dunno, Ms Kwon will kill me."

"I can tell you with full certainty that if you dance her choreo you will lose, bad. Even Minho couldn't make that dance look good," Hyun comments, and Felix nods his head. "If you get in trouble, Lix and I will take the blame. Ms Kwon adores us, she'll let it slide."

You ponder the idea. You knew you'd have a better shot at winning if you danced your own choreo, especially if Hyunjin and Felix helped you. You also knew you'd feel like an idiot dancing Ms Kwon's choreo, especially if your friends came to watch.

"You two are the world's worst influences, you know that, right?" You say in defeat, and you watch your friends high five each other.

You spend the next two hours listening to the music you'd been given and using the basis of Ms Kwon's choreo to create a new dance. Hyunjin, Felix and you have always worked really well together, and this is no different. Ideas flow out of each of you, and when you put them all together you have the basics down of a really good dance.

Your panting by the end of hour two, when Felix stops you for the day. "Let's call it there - it's already five pm and our table is booked for seven tonight," he explains, looking at you expectantly.

"Sounds good to me - we've done so much in such a short amount of time. I'm sure by next Friday you'll be more than prepared with the new choreo," Hyunjin says, picking up his bag. "You sure you don't want to come out with us tonight?"

You don't answer at first, checking your phone to see if Doha has messaged you back. Instead, the only text you've received is from your family group chat, your dad asking your mum what she was making for dinner. You roll your eyes fondly at the messages, thinking about when you'd next visit your parents since they were in Busan and you went to Uni in Seoul.

You looked up at Hyunjin as Felix went to the other side of you and you made your way out the rec. "I had asked Doha to come round tonight for movies but he's not replied to my texts since yesterday."

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. "Fuck that guy. I mean, don't actually fuck him, like fuck him, you know what I mean? He never replies to you, he never lets you go out - I don't even know why you're with him!"

"Hyunjin!" Felix says with a shocked expression, moving his head in front of you to mouth, 'shut up.'

"Sorry, but I'm just being honest. Felix thinks the same, it's a shame that you never come out with us, and don't get me started on that evil witch you call your best friend -" Hyunjin begins ranting, until Felix cuts him off.

"Hyun, enough! She already knows what we think," he says, before grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, turning to you. "And it's your life, don't listen to him."

"It's fine, Lix. I get why you guys are fed up with it, it's annoying that I never see you outside of uni, I know. It's just...we've been together since we were sixteen, and although things are a bit rough right now...it wasn't always like that," you explain, a sad sort of expression on your face. Felix nods understandingly.

"Please come out with us tonight," Hyunjin attempts one last time, stopping as you reach your student accommodation. You have your own room on a floor with three other people; one of whom being Seungmin, which is one of the reasons you got so close to Hyunjin and Felix out with dance this year. You laughed when you got your second-year accommodation and saw Seungmin's familiar face in the kitchen. Felix and Hyunjin are on the same floor in a building a ten-minute walk away. "Just for a bit, and then we will stop pestering you."

Felix and Hyunjin both look at you, anticipating what you'll say.

"Okay, fine," you huff, whilst the boys are almost jumping around with joy. "But when I want to go home, I'm going home, okay?"

"Fair enough!" Hyunjin almost shouts, a huge smile on his face. "Seungmin knows the place, you can walk with him. Oh my god, Minho's going to be so happy!"

Hyunjin starts skipping towards his dorm building and Felix gives you a hug, shaking his head. "He's such an idiot, but he's a persistent idiot. If you feel uncomfortable tonight I'll walk you back myself. And if your boyfriend gives you any trouble for being out with us...I'll get Chan to fight him. See you later!"

You laugh at your friend as he walks quickly towards Hyunjin. You shake your head fondly whilst using your key fob to enter your dorm building. When you get to your floor, Seungmin's in the communal kitchen/living area making ramen. You had grown close to him this year, being the only person in your dorm you knew.

You were glad you'd stuck to your guns and applied for boy/girl accommodation rather than only girls, which is what Doha tried to get you to apply to. He didn't understand why you'd ever want to live with boys, and you explained that you'd lived with only girls in first year and loathed it, and you wouldn't subject yourself to that again.

"Hey loser," Seungmin says to you with a braced smile. "You're late back."

"Long story. You know my super boring dance for the showcase competition thing?" You say, sitting on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter. Seungmin nods, stirring his ramen. "Hyunjin and Felix just helped me re-choreograph it."

"Oh, very rebellious," he says with a laugh. "But very necessary. I didn't know if you'd be out for dinner but I made extra ramen anyway, want some?"

You nod enthusiastically. "You're my favourite. Oh, also, Hyun and Lix were practically begging me to come out to the bar with you guys tonight, so I gave in. You can walk with me, right?" You ask him.

"You're actually going out with us tonight?" He says, shock evident on his features. "What's Doha saying about that?"

"Does everyone hate my boyfriend?" You say with a laugh, sensing the tone in Seungmin's voice as he says your boyfriends name. They had bumped into each other a couple times since you moved into your accommodation a couple weeks ago, and you thought they'd got on okay, but apparently not.

"It's not like I hate him, he just...I don't know. I get a weird vibe, but nothing to do with me. Anyway, yes I can walk with you. Now please go shower, cause you stink, and when you get out I'll have your ramen ready," he says, going back to stirring the noodles. Perhaps your favourite thing about Seungmin was how straightforward he was. It was one of the reasons you got on so well so quickly.

You do exactly what Seungmin says, taking a shower and washing your hair to get ready for the unexpected night ahead. You check your phone again, just incase Doha has replied, but he hasn't. Figures.

You send another message, adding onto the three you've already sent today, just explaining that you were going out with Hyunjin and Felix and their friends. You wait a couple minutes after pressing send, just to see if that sparks Doha's attention, but it doesn't, so you throw on a dressing gown and huffily go through to the kitchen.

There's two bowls of ramen sitting on the table, and of course Seungmin hasn't waited for you to start eating. You join him, digging into the food he has made for you.

"Mmm, this is great, thanks Seungmin," you say through mouthfuls of food. He nods at you appreciatively.

"So what made you decide to finally go to the bar with us?" He asks you.

"You guys are making it seem like I never spend any time with you!" You laugh. "I see you, Hyunjin and Felix literally every day, and I've been out with your group multiple times!"

"Sure, but only a couple times in the whole almost year you've known us, and you haven't even met half our friends yet," Seungmin points out, and you groan exasperatedly.

"I don't know. I just try my best to keep Doha on his good side, and he obviously doesn't like me spending all my time with guys. He prefers me hanging out with Sooyun," you explain in as best a way as possible.

"Oh, the she-witch?" Seungmin states instantly, and you roll your eyes. There was an incident at the end of last semester where Sooyun had bumped into you and Hyunjin walking around campus. She attended your university, whereas Doha attended the Uni in the next town over. She'd invited you both to go to a cafe with her, and you hadn't thought anything of it, but when you parted ways Hyunjin had told you how much he couldn't stand her the next day at dance practice.

"So first you hate my boyfriend, and now Hyunjin's made everyone hate my best friend too?" You say with a small smile, trying to stay positive. You were starting to really like Seungmin, you got on really well with Hyunjin despite your playful bickering, and you adored Felix...but every time they brought up how much they loathed your best friend and boyfriend you couldn't help but feel that horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. These were your friends since high school, and you it honestly worried you how all your new friends seemed to dislike them.

"It's not like that. Sorry, it's really none of my business," Seungmin apologises.

"No it's fine, I get it. I guess you guys are just looking out for me."

Seungmin hums with a nod, agreeing with you. The two of you finish up eating and you take the bowls, taking them to wash them in the sink.

"Hyunjin especially. He puts on this front like he doesn't care about anyone or anything, and hides everything behind some nippy sarcastic comments, but he cares a lot more than you think," Seungmin explains. You've realised how intuitive he is, and it's so interesting to hear him talk about his friends.

"Anyway," you say, an attempt to divert the topic. "I decided to come tonight because I had plans with Doha but he's not replied to me all day. I've seen he's been active though, so I don't know what's going on, and please don't give me a lecture on how it's not a 'healthy relationship' or whatever the fuck, because I'm fully aware."

Seungmin just raised his eyebrows, drying the two bowls you've just washed and putting them in his designated cupboard.

"Sorry," you apologise. "That came off far too snippy than I intended it to."

"Don't sweat it. Just focus on looking pretty for tonight. Minho is desperate to meet you," Seungmin replies, no distaste in his tone. He seemed to understand whatever mess was going on in your head regarding your relationship situation, and you were thankful for that.

"So I've heard. Why?" You ask, walking through your hallway and stopping outside your bedroom door. Seungmin was the door opposite from you.

"Just cause he's a dancer, and the gruesome twosome haven't stopped singing your praises for the past year," Seungmin explains, and you laugh at his stupid nickname for Felix and Hyun.

You salut him, and he reciprocates the action as you disappear into your bedroom to get ready, a little ritual the two of you had started instead of saying goodbye. You spend the next hour doing your hair, makeup and picking out an outfit. After great consideration (having no idea what is bar etiquette suitable), you finally choose to wear leather jeans and a long sleeved crop top, trying to keep your outfit casual, but also making an effort. You wanted to make a good impression in-front of the people you hadn't met yet.

Seungmin knocks on your door at quarter to seven, and you come out after grabbing your bag and a jacket. You fall into step as you leave your dorm building and follow Seungmin as the two of you walk out of the campus grounds.

"So Hyunjin said you guys go to this bar often?" You say as you walk down the street.

"Yeah, pretty much every week. Now that Minho and Chan have graduated, we hardly see them since Minho's been on tour for three months and Chan works his ass off. Changbin works too, in addition to his uni course, but he still shows face a lot," Seungmin explains.

"So you guys have been friends since highschool?" You ask. Hyunjin and Felix had talked about their friend group often, but never in huge detail.

"Yeah, some of us from before then. I've known Jeongin since I was a baby, and Felix and Chris the same. We became close in high school and have kind of stayed in the same group since then," Seungmin tells you. You listen intently until Seungmin stops at the door of a cool looking bar. "This is us."

He pushes the door open and your instantly met with a group of boys sitting at a long table in the back corner of the bar. Seungmin goes before you, manoeuvring through the chaos to get to his friends. They greet him happily, and you try to put faces with names. You obviously recognise Felix and Hyun, who stand up to pull you in for a hug, and you recognise Jeongin and Jisung, but you can't remember out of the remaining three boys who's who. One, with dark hair and huge biceps, who flashes you a smile, you think must be Changbin - the music producer who spends half his life in the gym. Then, the handsome guy with a constant smile and accent, you figure must be Chan, the Australian. Then, that leaves...

You pull away from your hug with Felix as he holds your hand, something you've noticed he does a lot, to pull you so you're sitting beside him at the opposite end of the infamous Lee Minho. He was two years above you in university, and you remember all about the 'legacy', the famous dancer who was the best student the arts department had seen for years. You'd even been told by some of your lecturers you could give him a run for his money.

"So, this is your friend," Changbin starts as soon as you and Seungmin are seated. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Lay off, Bin," Hyun says instantly, noticing his flirty eyes. "She's got a boyfriend."

"Shame," is all Changbin says, taking a sip of his drink. Beside him, Hyunjin gives him an elbow to the ribs.

"Seriously, we've finally got her to come out with us, don't give her a reason to never do it again," he says, glaring at his friend beside him. You laugh, waving your hand, an attempt to break the ice.

"Don't stress so much, Hyun. He's just trying to be nice," you say with a polite smile. Jeongin, who you've spoken to a couple of times before, raises an eyebrow at you.

"Ulterior motives," he says ominously, earning a laugh from everyone at the table.

"I don't think we've met before, I'm Chan," the man who you assumed was Chan says to your from a couple seats away, flashing a charming grin. You smile back, introducing yourself. "What do you guys want to drink?"

Seungmin tells Chan his drink of choice and you do the same, watching as he goes up to the bar and pays for the two drinks without a second thought.

"Is he always -" you start, aiming your question at Felix.

"Yeah, he's like the kindest person in the universe, you get used to it," he says with a grin. You nod in understanding and thank Chan when he comes back with your drink. You sip on it cautiously, beginning to settle into your friend's friend group.

"So," Changbin says, directing the conversation towards you. "You're on Hyunjin and Felix's dance course?"

You nod your head in reply, taking another sip of your drink.

"She's not just on it, she dominates it," Hyunjin says dramatically, hyping you up in front of his friends. You gaze goes straight to Minho, and you start to wonder if maybe Hyun and Lix had talked about him so much that you were subconsciously focusing on him.

"Is that so?" Minho says, speaking up for the first time. Hyunjin looks towards him and nods.

"Not even kidding. She was chosen out of the whole course for this showcase on Saturday. And she's got the highest grade in the year," Hyun carries on, and you feel your cheeks reddening at the compliments.

Minho whistles, leaning back. "Is this showcase something that can be watched?"

You almost widen your eyes at the words. This guy you've never met before wanting to watch a showcase you were in. "Yeah," you say, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible. "It's at the university, Saturday night, though I assure you it will be incredibly boring -"

"I'll be there," Minho cuts you off, and you see Felix wiggle his eyebrows from beside you. Thankfully, before you can combust, Seungmin speaks up.

"I'd like to come and watch too, if I can," he says to you, and you smile knowing your friend cares enough to take an interest in you. He's met with Jeongin agreeing, and then Jisung too, and before you know it all the boys are talking about how excited they are to see you dance on Saturday.

"See," Felix whispers from beside you. "I told you they'd love you."

You nod at him with a smile, thankful that his friends were accepting of you crashing their night.

"So, how was tour, Lino?" Chan asks, looking towards Minho as he does. The group falls quiet, listening intently.

"Amazing. Honestly better than anything I could've imagined. It was fucking tough though - no breaks, just constantly on the go. I think I had maybe two days in the whole three months that I didn't have something going on," he explains. You're intrigued with his words, knowing he's a professional dancer, hired to accompany whatever dance position his company need him for. Felix explained he'd been touring with a k-pop group as a back up dancer for the last three months.

"Jisung missed you," Changbin teases. "He kept saying how he misses you living with him and how he hates us all." Jisung scoffs at this, but you don't miss the fond look Minho shoots him.

"That's stretching the truth," Jisung starts, but it's met with a laugh from almost all the boys, and you know he's lying.

"Anyway, next round on me," Minho says, and the boys whoop knowing they get a free round. "What do you all want?"

Felix offers to help Minho carry the drinks, and after you tell the two boys what you want you're left with the rest of the group, sitting beside Changbin.

"So this boyfriend of yours," Changbin starts, and Hyunjin practically punches him on the arm.

"They've been together for like four years, dumbass. Leave the poor girl alone," he says glaringly.

"I'm just kidding, calm down Hyun," Changbin laughs, before he turns to you. "Seriously, I'm kidding. I think you're lovely, but you're not my type."

"The feelings mutual," you laugh, thankful that Changbin wasn't actually hitting on you. "It's funny to see Hyunjin get so protective, anyway."

"Isn't it!" Changbin laughs, and Hyunjin sends him a disgusted look. "He pretends to be so high and mighty, but he's such a baby."

"Okay, dickhead," Hyun laughs. "I didn't invite her tonight for you to rip the piss out of me in front of her."

"Aw, Hyun, don't get mad now that your friends like me better than you," you say in a mocking tone, earning a laugh from Changbin.

"I like her," he states abruptly, and you can't help but be proud that you're fitting in well.

After Minho and Felix come back with a drink for all of you, you fall into natural conversation with everyone. You discuss Seungmin's classical music course and how he's getting on, Chan's job and whatever else intrigues you. Before you know it, you're another three drinks down and definitely starting to feel them. The boys decide to play a game of pool, hogging the pool table beside your table in the bar as soon as the last group leave. You decide to watch rather than play, checking your messages to see whether you'd had a reply yet. Radio silence.

"I see why the boys have been hiding you from me," someone says to you, jolting you out of your thoughts as you switch off your phone. Minho slides into the seat beside you, taking a sip of his drink.

"And why's that?" You say in return, turning to face the man beside you. For the first time tonight, you let yourself really look at him. He's so insanely pretty it's a joke, sharp jawline and gorgeous side profile. You have to physically snap yourself out of the trance he has you in, reminding yourself that although you and Doha are going through a rough time, he's still your boyfriend.

"You're just too perfect," he says with a smirk, and you scoff. If he's saying you're perfect, he's kidding himself. "I don't think I've ever looked as forward to watch someone perform as I am to watch you on Saturday."

"That's only because Hyun and Lix have hyped me up to you as much as they have you to me," you point out, sipping your drink. "You're not interested in the game?"

You nod over to the boys hollering around the pool table beside you and watch as Minho flashes you a smile. "Unfortunately I've been disallowed to enter into pool competitions. They get pissed off when I win."

You roll your eyes at the man's cockiness. It's as though he knows the effect he's having on you and wants to play into it as much as possible.

"So you went to our uni," you say instead, changing the topic. Minho nods. "You're a bit of a legacy on campus, you know."

Now it's Minho's turn to scoff, leaning back in his chair lazily. "For all the wrong reasons, I presume."

You laugh at this, nodding your head. "You are certainly a hot topic amongst the girls, that's for sure."

"Well, if you're ever in need of a friendly fuck, I'm your guy," he says nonchalantly, and you almost spit out your drink at his boldness.

"I'm fine, but thanks for the offer," you say with a sharp tone of voice. Who the hell does this guy think he is? It's at that point Felix falls into the seat beside you, his eyes thick with drunk as he starts to slur his words.

"He's not giving you too much of a tough time is he?" Felix smiles lazily, resting his head on your shoulder. It's late, and you know Felix can't handle his drink well, so you allow it.

"I'm being a perfect gentlemen," Minho counters with a raised brow.

"If offering to fuck is being a gentlemen, then sure," you reply, an edge in your tone, but when Minho gives you a genuine laugh, your facade drops and you join him in laughter. You still can't figure him out, but you laugh with him nonetheless, enjoying letting loose for once.

"Jesus Minho, lay off for once," Felix laughs, knowing his friend doesn't mean any harm. "Her boyfriend would beat the shit out of you if he could."

You roll your eyes, knowing the hard man act Doha puts up a lot of the time is just that - an act. Minho's demeanour would be enough to send Doha running, you thought.

"As if," Minho scoffs. You're about to reply when Seungmin walks over to you with a huff.

"Time to go, loser. I lost bad," he says with a pouty face, and you stand up, manoeuvring around Felix as you laugh at Seungmin to grab your jacket and bag to join Seungmin on the walk home.

"You're not staying until the end of the game?" Minho asks, looking towards Seungmin as his friend shakes his head.

"It will go on for hours. Hyunjin and Changbin are on the verge of physically fighting at this point," Seungmin explains, looking over to the two boys. You watch as they argue about who's turn it is and laugh, walking towards them to say your goodbyes. Hyunjin gives you a quick hug and mentions class on Monday, whearas Changbin, Jeongin, Chan and Jisung smile at you.

"It was lovely to meet you," Chan says, and you reply before turning to hug Felix goodbye.

"Thanks for coming," he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I hope they weren't too awful."

"I actually had fun," you say as you pull away from him. You turn to Minho, giving him a half smile.

"I'll see you on Saturday, I guess," you say to him, letting Seungmin help you put your arms through your jacket.

"You will indeed," he winks at you, and you roll your eyes as you walk out the bar, holding the door open for Seungmin.

"So," he says as your hit with the cold September air. "Do you hate our friends?"

"Quite the opposite," you say with a fond smile. "I'm surprised I got along with them as well as I did."

"I'm not," Seungmin said, which made you smile. "I could tell they'd like you. Even Minho spent a lot of time with you, and he's a great judge of character. Don't tell him I said that."

You laugh at your friend as you continue your walk to the dorm building.

"Thanks for walking with me," you say to him when you unlock the floor door. "I appreciate it."

He gives you a toothy grin, waving his hand. "No sweat. Just know that they will be on your ass about coming out with us again now."

You roll your eyes and for the second time today give your friend a salut, as he reciprocates the action and disappears into his bedroom.

You look at you phone and still, no text from your boyfriend. You groan at this point, seeing he has been active on social media but is apparently just choosing to ignore your messages. You knew that you'd been going through a rough patch, not seeing each other half as much as you used to, but seriously? A whole day with no reply?

You go to bed that night feeling a mixture of emotions. It was almost as if you could feel a shift in your life, as if you knew things were starting to change. For the better or worse, you didn't know. But for some reason, you were feeling ten times more anxious for next Saturday than you were before.

PART TWO HERE!

taglist

@miamyre @skzgallll

[trashworldblog]

yoooooooo, I was scrolling through your old blogs and I found you had a mystery files jacket??????? Did you get that at the old shop?? Also what other kind of watcher merch do you have? Cause like, I'm thinking of getting some but I'm afraid they'll add something new and then I've wasted all my money :(

yeah!! i have a mystery files jacket! i got it on the old watcherstore when mystery files premiered last year. i love it, it has inside pockets!!! i wore it to the chicago pride parade last year too!

i have quite a bit of watcher merch because im 🤏 irresponsible with money, and my brother and parents get me watcher merch for birthdays and christmas.

i have the professor plush which i love and cherish so much. he is perfect for squeezing when i get really excited and need to stim

the watcher logo patch and the weird wonderful world patch (that are just by my computer, offering their support)

the weird wonderful world shirt (i actually have 2 because one was misprinted and i was able to get a replacement)

the team shaniac shirt that just cracks me up everytime i look at it. i wore it when i met shane and ryan on tour last october!

the lil ghost from too many spirits pin that lives on my fluffy white coat.

the professor scrunchie and the too many spirits scrunchie (they came as a duo). im obsessed with the professor scrunchie im too scared to wear it cus i dont want to get it dirty. (THEY GAVE HIM A HAT !! THEY PUT A LITTLE HAT ON A SCRUNCHIE AREYOUKIDDINGME??? THATS SO CUTE!)

i got the 2023 signed ghost files tour poster, i still need to get a frame for it.

and i recently pre ordered the team shaniac patch, and im planning on putting it on my mystery files jacket.

also im not saying because of this ask i checked out the watcherstuff merch site and impulse ordered the s1 puppet history pins BUT THATS KINDA WHAT JUST HAPPENED LMAOO (listennnn its been rough, i deserve a little treat in the form of wearing god on my jacket)

their merch is really good, i like it a lot. its cute, some of it is subtle, and good quality. everything i got, besides the shaniac patch, was from the old store. if i remember right, theyre currently switching merch companies ?? and i dont think the old merch is coming back (i could be wrong, i dont work there lol). but if you do want a shot at some of the old merch, they're selling mystery boxes on their watcherstuff store now. plus anything labeled "first edition" is from their old merch store. my guess is when that is sold out, its gone.

it'll probably take them some time to design, produce, and sell new merch. so if you want something now, id get it now because you'll likely have time before the next new drop. but the current merch likely isnt going to go away any time soon.

[elvisabutler]

i've had no love like your love

summary: both you and professor presley would like to forget about the incident between you two and you do while still occasionally falling into each other's arms when spending time with one another. the two of you finally reach a breaking point. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader word count: 9487. i got a little carried away. warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. elvis being ill enough to miss class. unrequited love that would be requited if people just opened up their mouths. oral ( f receiving ). use of psalms in inappropriate ways. bunch of tears. mention of physical abuse/hitting/being kicked out of houses. use of the nickname belle for the reader. use of the derogatory name jezebel. mentions and beginning of impersonal sex like in my hearts already sinned. thigh riding. author's note: so i'll warn you ahead of time you've got to get through a lot of words of sadness to get to their happiness in this but it's worth it. i'm honestly super glad this got the reception it did since when i posted the little teaser/trailer as my last kinktober piece i thought this was hella niche and didn't think anyone would like it since it's big daddy elvis and it's a professor au. but y'all have seemed to absolutely adore it and it makes me happy. this is not the end of them since i've got an epilogue ( purely happy, i promise ) and honestly, if anyone ever wants me to write more of them ( case in point, the ask i got about a movie night with him and belle ) or i have an urge to i probably will. and y'all know the drill, pick your elvis poison, this is written with real elvis in mind but you can imagine austin elvis. and previous parts are here to be read in order: 1 and 2.

There's one thought- or a series of thoughts- his mind keeps cycling back to, that keeps rolling over and over in his head as he looks at the door you just left out of. Gossip isn't something he normally cares about but when he heard your name, he couldn't help but listen in properly because when it came to you he couldn't help it, he never has been able to help it. 

"She's going for Presley? That religious- he won't give her the time of day like that. She's too impure for him."  

"I've heard that's why she wants him because come on man, you know he never has gone for a student. Why not have the Tour Guide show him what he's been missing? Besides she's already spending all that time in his office and wearing his jacket half the time. Bet she's gonna fuck him before Thanksgiving break. Then she'll be free."  

"Two in one semester-" The calculus professor whistles. "Next semester she'll be begging for an orgy at this rate." 

He's not dumb, contrary to what his teachers back in the day might have thought. No, he's not dumb but sometimes he prefers to see the best in people, sees the parts that other people might overlook. Maybe it's just from his upbringing or maybe it's from how he was treated in the music industry but he likes to think himself a good judge of the character people might otherwise keep hidden. And with you he had thought- he had thought there was something there. Something you had hidden away amongst your conquests as ill advised as they might have been. You were- you felt like the sort of person who could be taken care of while still taking care of him. You felt like coming home or like God himself had dropped an angel in his lap. The idea that he was just another man- another professor in your long line of them stung. He knows he's not a great catch any more, that he's not nearly as pretty as he was even two years ago, let alone when he used to perform on stage or was in the movie picture business but you didn't seem to mind. You seemed to enjoy him, unless he had read everything wrong, had read your lingering glances wrong. Unless he had read your reactions to his very presence wrong or how you would smile just so in a way he recognizes from some women.

If he hadn't have read this situation wrong and you had actually enjoyed his company and cared about him at least in some small part the way he cared about you, why had you answered yes to his test. Why in God's green Earth had you told him that you just wanted him to be another professor you fucked? The answer should have been that you wanted to fuck him as a person and not just- him because he was your professor. You didn't need to charm him like this- to worm your way so comfortably into his heart in a way Priscilla had and how Linda had as short as their relationship was. It's- you didn't need to play with him like this- you didn't need to be cruel.

Maybe the best thing for both of you would be to pretend none of this happened. Pretend that everything was normal and that he hadn't seen how your pussy looked in underwear that was barely there. Pretend he hadn't seen you arch your back for him. Just pretend he hadn't had you against the desk in a way that was so far from how he planned. That's- that should be what he does. You were still perhaps that good girl, that wonderful woman he thought you were, you just needed to be reminded of it continuously. Maybe he just wants to be selfish and have you in his life in whatever way he can. God, he was getting to be stupid and silly as he got older, wasn't he?

Love makes you do stupid things, you've realized this more than anything with El- Professor Presley. With other men, with other professors your brain and your heart seemed to actually be in line with one another, seemed to remember that these were flings and while their outcomes led so much to be desired you could file them away as business transactions. Business transactions that allowed you to avoid worrying about your grades if you were sick or if you had too much going on at one time. You figure it's your own fault for taking the challenge Noelle had offered you. Figure that you brought this on yourself despite knowing that you had seen the man for years now from afar and thought that he was the most attractive man you've ever laid eyes on. Thought his waistline- much as it occasionally fluctuated was perfect at damn near any size but you had a special place in your heart for his size now. You should have known your heart would believe one thing- would feel one thing while your brain would try and remind you that this- this couldn't ever be more than whatever it was. You hadn't even needed to do it, hadn't needed to take the chance on sleeping with him because you were fine when it came to his class, never missing a class or a discussion or anything that had him lowering your grades. Yet, you had to be selfish, had to ruin the relationship- the friendship you and him had with each other. You had to ruin him as a person, didn't you?

The man who had sex with you against his desk that day wasn't Elvis Presley, Professor Presley, whatever you wanted to call him. He wasn't the person you had fallen so deeply in love with that your heart ached and twisted and threatened to fall right out of your chest at the mere idea of losing him for good. He was something- someone else entirely, someone who you didn't recognize in the slightest but maybe that's who he always had been, maybe that was the man you had fallen completely in love with over the semester. Your brain hadn't bothered to entertain the idea of a life beyond this semester but you think- no, you know- that your heart had other plans. Your heart dreamed of a life with you at his side at Graceland during the summer and on the breaks at night. It dreamed of a life with you in his lap and his head in yours. You just dreamed of a life with him come whatever may be.

That dream is still in your heart as much as your brain knows it's stupid and silly and a forgone conclusion at this point. Yet, you can't stop yourself from still wanting it from pining for the mere idea of it. You can't stop yourself from taking his jacket you still have and wrapping yourself in it after you come home from that day- that absolute mess of an emotional day because that mere idea of a life with him. A life where he comforts you and wraps his arms around you when you find that life is too much or when he finds that life is too much.

Maybe that's why you don't back away, maybe that's why you let yourself continue on debasing yourself in a way that you're practically mortified to realize. Or maybe it's because after that day things go back to normal. He acts like the man you fell for, acts like the man you could see some form of a future with and could dream of living the rest of his days with. Still, you choose to believe that it's worth it, that this is all you're ever going to have of Elvis. God you wish your brain could just call him Professor Presley or Mr. Presley but when you're in his office talking about what had happened in class or the lesson plans he had for the next one he always insists on you calling him Elvis and it feels so natural rolling off your tongue. It feels like it's meant to leave your mouth in sighs as he brings you pleasure and with fondness that you can only have with someone you love to the ends of the Earth.

You should have known better, you should have known better because you might be strong, you might be the sort of person who can hold herself up with or without praise that Elvis sprinkles into your life. You're the sort of person who shouldn't do this, who wouldn't do this for anyone else if it wasn't him. You should break it off, should give yourself a clean break but he's always there and he's right there saying the words you want to hear. He's there acting like he's supposed to and you find you can't even grieve for the loss of him because he's not gone, is he? No, he's right there in front of you, almost mocking you in his actions and how they conflict when you're up against his desk, his cock sliding in and out of you with such obscene squelching and squishing because he knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you groaning against the coolness of the desk. He knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you so aroused you make a mess of whatever you touch. The times you're just on his thigh because he can't get it up- not for lack of want, but because of his body betraying him like everything else seems to- those times always end in him with a suspicious wet spot that makes him glad he's got on black pants to hide the stain you've put there from riding him.

Things feel so impersonal, such a stark contrast to the actions of both of you around the times you do these things. You're adults and yet the concept of talking about what happens- talking about how you two fall into some natural rhythm of companionship only to have it stripped away the moment one of you climbs on top of the other or the moment he pats his thigh for you to straddle- is so alien to either one of you. When you've fooled around with the other professors even when it came to the worst exits you were still able to look at them, still have that element of attachment when you would be with them up until the point where you were kicked out and where you were slapped and yelled at and chased out windows that had you breaking your ankle. With Elvis it should be the same, you want it to be the same because maybe if it was you could- it would be easier for the two of you to talk. It would be easier to not feel like this is a business transaction and that as much as he'll be the man you started to love before and after it, he won't be that man during the act. You'd say you felt used but how can you be used if you're also using him. It's silly and embarrassing and it wears you down after each time even though you always crave it just a little bit because it's all you feel like you can get of him like that. You want more than his companionship, his praise and his subtle touches on your shoulder and his laughter. You want every single bit of him you can have. You're grasping at whatever you feel you can get and you don't realize he's doing much the same thing.

It has to be impersonal because if he looks at you he doesn't trust himself to not fall to your knees and worship you like the angel sent from on high he believes you to be. He calls you Jezebel because that reminds him how you wrenched his heart from his chest and twisted it in your hands. Staying away from you isn't an option because outside of when you two fall into each other's arms you feel like his- feel like third time is truly the charm on women he adores to the ends of the Earth and that you could be the one he spends the rest of his life with- however long that may be.

However long that may be is always on his mind the more his stomach gives him issues or his body feels like it's breaking down more and more. Should try and get everything in check, try and cut out some things maybe but he's never been the most disciplined in anything that isn't religion and even then he knows he falls off that wagon on occasion. He has to miss two more classes and on one of the nights he can't sleep, his stomach contorting in on itself and his bones feeling an ache he can't shake he wishes you were there. Your presence that one night, curled up against him after he had woken up and found you on the couch only to carry you to his bed had been some of the best sleep he'd had in such a long time. You might not have healed all his ills but you served to be a balm he couldn't help but crave on this night.

The thing about him missing is that he can't know- he doesn't know that you notice the second it's Joe up at the front of your class again and you swear you want to throw up. Your stomach drops so far out of your body that it might as well be in the core of the Earth. Elvis wasn't here again which meant something- some part of his body was acting up again. Maybe you shouldn't have been on his thigh after the last class, maybe you should have just let it be one of those times when you just talked and relaxed with one another and not let it turn sexual. No- No, it would have happened regardless, after all, the last time he had missed you and him hadn't even done anything other than talk. That was before- you wouldn't dwell on it, if this was anything like the last time he'd be back come next class a little more worn down and needing perhaps more company and a bit of help but he would be fine. He's always been so larger than life and so strong that there was nothing to worry about.

Except- he doesn't come back after that first class and he misses another one and you had been lulled into a false sense of security thinking he was alright when no one including Joe was there early. No, instead you had Jerry coming in almost five minutes late telling everyone that class was canceled since anyone who would take over for EP was a little occupied and as nice as he's heard everyone was- he's a business professor- an economics one- not a religious studies kind of guy. You don't expect people to be loitering outside of the class, figuring that much like any college students they'd be rushing to the library to study or to their dorms or apartments to sleep. You wish people had done that, wished the two people you come upon would have done that.

"He's gonna be dead in a year if that, man." The student- James you think- says, rolling his eyes. "My brother had him last year and he missed one class, we're on what, our third?"

"Third and the Tour Guide wearing his jacket. Maybe that's why- she's drained him." The other laughs quietly.

"She hasn't worn it since the middle of October, no, she's already moved on. Wouldn't be surprised if he passed her along to his little Mafia." James pauses. "Whatever the case- he's dead next year. If he even gets through the semester. Sucks, man, he wasn't the worst professor."

There's a part of you that wants to hear what they have to say, hear how they want to blame you for Professor- Elvis not being here but you can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears and feel your eyes welling up with tears you can't- you refuse- to shed in front of people and find yourself pushing past them, your boots thumping on floor as both of them laugh just a little realizing you had been listening to them the whole time.

They had to be wrong, they had to be wrong because as sick as maybe Elvis was he wasn't- he couldn't be that sick. No, they were just- joking around, they had to have been. Maybe they knew you were there the whole time and just said it to mock you, after all, you know it's truly no secret that you are his favorite student and were even before- the incident. If they were right though, that meant-that meant after this semester he was gone. You'd never hear a story about how stupid some of your classmates were or about hear him sing like he had that one night again. You'd never share another set of snacks and a drink with him. He'd be gone and you'd be- He'd be gone and the world would feel a little bit dimmer.

The idea of a world without Professor Presley, a world without Elvis swirls in your mind that weekend as you force yourself to do your schoolwork. Ignoring it would be so easy and you could just curl up with his jacket and with your favorite book or in front of the little television and just pretend you hadn't heard any of that. Any time you think of doing that, though, you hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like his with a little backing of a voice that sounds like yours in your mind reminding you that you should do your work. So you do and you eat and you do everything you're supposed to that weekend as you try to avoid thinking of what the other students had said. It's hard but you manage well enough. Monday comes sooner than you'd like and you find yourself dreading entering Elvis's- Professor Presley's class. You sit down in your normal spot though, your eyes shut as you try to relax and burrow yourself into his jacket as you do.

His cane taps against the floor and a breath you hadn't realized that you were holding comes out of your mouth in a rush. He's here, he's alive and he's going to be teaching class today. You bite your lower lip as you hear the taps stop right behind you and feel Elvis's hand grasp your shoulder, just as warm as it always is. You hear his voice rumbling, even with so much exhaustion coloring the tone about how he's glad to see you where you’re supposed to be and you look up at him to see something in his eyes, something that feels like a spark of the man you've fallen for completely this semester. Maybe- no, you don't dare hope fully.

Class feels like a blur and while there is a debate as per his usual it's much more subdued with you barely offering input and him still feeling a little too rough to really force some excitement into it. A part of you wants to just head straight to your other class and not entertain the idea of going to Elvis's office but as you start to leave you hear the tap of his cane following you and hear his voice.

"Y/N." He starts, his eyes roaming your top half and settling on his jacket. "Gonna see ya in five minutes?"

The word no is on the tip of your tongue, you should say no but you've been so worried about him that you nod slowly, adjusting the straps on your bag and it earns a small smile from him as he walks off slower than normal but still seeming just as strong as normal with the tap of the cane. It takes you a little longer than five minutes to reach him, almost as if you're too nervous to really go to his office but when you get there the door is wide open and you see two drinks on the desk and you settle yourself onto the couch.

Talking- even with everything- comes so naturally to the two of you that you hardly realize how you both shift closer to the other as you talk. You hardly realize how you're close enough that you can feel his body heat against your side and that he feels the same thing. This is how it always seems to start since the Incident, with you two moving closer and closer until you're in his lap and today is no exception. Except, maybe it is because you're wearing his jacket and you saw a glimmer of something in his eyes that tell you maybe there's something there. That maybe the person you want to spend all your time with is still there underneath everything. You don't know when you decide to hook your leg over his thigh, thanking every god you know that he has a tendency to spread his legs even if there's no reason to and you hike up your skirt just a hair as you start to grind against his thigh, facing him as you do. Your hands move to try and cup his face, try and pull him closer to you before you feel his hands on your hips manhandling you to face that opposite way.

No. This- no, this isn't- you want him but not like this any more. God you can't- why was it so hard for him to let you just look at him when you do things like this. He was gone for two classes and you were so worried but he won't look at you. You're wearing his jacket and he noticed and he won't let you look at him. Your body can't help itself, still grinding a bit as you try and maneuver yourself back to facing him only to be stopped time and time again by his grip. It's not punishing and it's not going to bruise- you hope- but he won't let you turn. He won't let you turn and his mouth starts to spew words that make you want to curl up in on yourself.

His mouth hisses into your ear. "The Jezebel doesn't want it this way? Doesn't want my thigh today? Too good for me?"

You snarl, tears starting to form in your eyes out of sheer frustration and anguish rolled into one. "I never- I'm not saying that, I just- Elvis, please, let me look at you." Your body starts to contort in positions you didn't think were possible as you continue to try and face him only to be brushed aside.

Words are leaving his mouth, you hear them faintly but you finally just launch yourself off his thigh, chest heaving and eyes fiery as can be. Your legs shake at the sudden loss of his thigh that had supported you up until now but you stand your ground as best as you can. "No, I'm not- We're not doing this, not like this, I- What have I even done to deserve this? This- God, I don't even know what to call it. This joke? This playing with me like this?"

"Playing with ya like this?" He barks, heaving his body off of the couch and moving to stand in front of you, his blue eyes stormy as anything you've ever seen in your life. "That's goddamn rich comin' from ya. Lil Miss Jezebel. The Tour Guide. The Harlot who-"

"Don't!" You shout, not even caring if anyone outside in the hallways can hear you. "Stop calling me that! I'm not- You wouldn't call me a good girl if I was any of those things!"

"They're- They don't hafta be seperate, darlin'!" His emphasis on the nickname is punctuated by him inching even closer to you, his words getting lower as he starts to hiss them. "Because you're most certainly a Jezebel, climbin' on me every chance ya get. Actin' like your God's gift to men wit' the others. Tell me, that new professor, t'one in the math department-"

"What other- Is this about-" Your thoughts jumble as they try to catch up with what he's saying. He's calling you a complete Jezebel and asking about someone who doesn't even exist to you. Your chest heaves as you push yourself into the little bit of space between you, your pointer finger pointing at his chest. "The new professor? The one I had to ask for help for because he's the only math professor who hasn't tried to come onto me?"

"Do- Do I look stupid to you, Jezebel?" He asks, almost as if he's afraid to say your name. "I heard from the other professors-"

"You could have asked me!" The words are spit out of your mouth and you can even see a bit of spittle flying onto his face. It brings you a sick sense of satisfaction to see how his already angry face slides between pure shock and more anger. "I thought we were friendly enough to do that! I've been to your house, Elvis!"

The noise that comes out of him before he can even get words out is truly defined as a snarl and a growl in the truest sense of the words. If you hadn't known any better you'd have thought you were arguing with a wild animal. It startles you to the point where you back away just a bit, not because you're worried he'll hurt you- no he's never been that type even with everything- but just because it's your natural instinct in the face of something like that. Despite that, he follows you, moves closer again even as his voice roars leaving his mouth. "You've been in my bed, Y/N! My goddamn bed! Curled up next t'me like ya belonged there!"

You duck away from him, almost as if to escape feeling very much like a cornered animal. He's not going to hurt you- he won't because he's not like- he's not like the rest of them but you can't defend yourself if he pins you down with his body or his words. His eyes follow you like a predator stalking prey even if you both know you've never truly been prey to him or perhaps anyone else. "That's exactly my point! Why wouldn't you just ask me?"

"'Cuz ya'd have lied!" His answer is slurred, the anger truly getting the better of him as he moves to cage you against the wall, only to have you slide away again.

"Not to you, Elvis!" How could he even think you'd lie to him about something like that? That you'd truly lie to him in general? "I've never lied to you!" You hadn't told him things but you had never lied, not a true and honest lie.

"Haven't ya?" He doesn't move this time, instead choosing to stare you down. "Tell me, Jezebel. Did ya just wanna fuck me so ya could tell everyone ya did? How ya got me when I haven't fooled around with a student in all my years and I haven't fooled around with anyone going on at least a year? Or was this just ya bein' sweet on the fat ol' man?"

The flinch that comes from you is unexpected and you look down at your body wondering if he shot you or slapped you and you didn't realize. There isn't a mark on you, no blood showing, no handprint making a mark on you. There is just you wishing he would have slapped you or injured you in some way because maybe it would hurt less than the words he had just said. It would hurt less than the accusation he's just thrown your way. You do not cry in front of people, you refuse to, knowing tears never make things better when you're caged and yet you feel your lower lip starting to jut and your nose starting to run before you shake your head. It's- he's not- he is wrong and you need to prove that to him.

"Just being sweet on the fat old man." You can't help but laugh, the cacophony of emotions threatening to tear you apart at the seams. "Do you- Do you hear yourself? I- What is it, Elvis? Am I your Jezebel sent to what ruin your little God Fearing self? Or am I just some Jezebel who's sweet on you? Or are you going to tell me I'm both? That I'm not good enough for you? Too used?"

You see his jaw tighten and you worry if you've said the wrong thing. You worry that he's seen how you look like you're about to cry and something is going to go wrong but he just takes a step closer to you, his cane tapping on the floor just once. His head tilts just slightly to the side. "I know what I said, lil Jezebel. I know that you've been actin' all sweet, actin' like you're worthy of the nickname Belle. Worryin' 'bout me. Comin' to my house, gettin' me into bed but when I worry 'bout ya, put ya in my bed next to me, ya leave me alone. Then I hear t'boys. Hear what the lil professors you'll eventually fuck gotta say about ya. Ya just playin' a lil game wit' me, ain't ya?"

You bite your lower lip as an answer before you take a deep breath as you start to head to the door, trying to open it only to realize at some point he's locked it. You could unlock it but you feel the need to turn around and defend yourself. "That's- Elvis. No. No- I- I wouldn't- I honestly like you!" You don't dare say love because if he thinks this low of you he's not going to want to hear it. "I care about you! I- You haven't been here for almost a week in actual days counted and I've been worried. They're making jokes about you dying and that idea terrifies-"

He cuts you off as he takes another step and you hear another tap of that goddamn cane as you find yourself moving up against the wall, realizing you can't move. "Stop. Lyin'."

"I'm not- Elvis- I'm not! Why can't you- I'm I wouldn't lie to you about something like this. I wouldn't lie to anyone like this." You want to be strong, you want to fight more but it's as if he's saying everything exactly to hurt you in just the right way. He's saying everything that just cuts through any defense you have for it.

It finally starts to weigh on you, finally starts to drag you down into the depths you were trying so hard not to fall into. He- he won't understand either because of his own choices and stubbornness or because the idea is foreign to him. The idea that you were terrified- you the girl who is so strong that you've taken something that should be an insult and wear it with a bit of pride or at least wear it in a way that lessens its effect- is so foreign it truly refuses to penetrate his brain. At last that's the only thing that crosses your own mind as you feel cornered. You feel trapped and like- you feel like something is finally breaking within you. That this, out of everything you've had thrown at you is what's broken you. The wall behind you reminds you of his solid form except it's all wrong, it's so cold that it can't be him. He's standing in front of you, blue eyes raging like a hurricane and his body coiled like a tight spring, his cane holding up his leg as he moves forward to cage you in again and that's it. 

Your body sags against the wall, using it to remain somewhat upright as you slunk down to the floor, unshed tears congealing in a hard mass in your throat. You try and swallow only to have something again to a low groan or small whine escape your lips. This- he's broken you, you've been so strong only to let this stupid man who you shouldn't have even gone for in the first place break you. This stupid man who was- who felt so different and like he held every promise for happiness in the words he spoke. In the praise he gave you. In the way his body felt like it was made to hold you and touch you in ways you yearned for.

"Jesus-" His voice sounds crushed above you and for some reason there's a part of you that feels a victorious delight in the fact that you've made him sound like that. Made him sound as anguished as he's made you feel for weeks. As anguished as you feel thinking of him dead. “Y/N- Get up- Ya g-gotta stand up darlin’.” 

No you don’t, hell you don’t even trust that your legs would let you stand up at this point, as much as you feel them minutely shaking. No, you’re quite content to stay on the floor, feeling almost catatonic in the way your mind is focusing on everything about the past semester. You try to close your eyes as if that will make the tears that are threatening to fall go away when all it does is make them slide out the corner of your eyes. That's the final dam bursting as more follow even as you don't want them to. All that’s in your mind is every moment he’s touched you, every moment you’ve walked next to him, every moment when his eyes were like sapphires glittering as he looked at you laughing over a bottle of Pepsi while you waved your hands talking. You remember every hint of praise that had your mind going a little fuzzy and had you shiver for a want of more. 

"Anyone ever tell ya how insightful ya are?" No because even if you paid attention during class and did the readings and made the grades they didn't care. 

"Ya ever thought about teachin'? Though the debate was a goner till ya put it back on track." That was nothing, just you wanting to make sure no one lost the point Elvis was trying to teach.

"You've been makin' this semester a goddamn breeze."

Perhaps you had but for what? For him to be missing class and looking half strung out or exhausted when he came back? In all the time you had spent together he hadn't even hadn't even told you what the problem was- what took him away from you and from a job he loved. Maybe everyone was right, maybe this might be his last semester teaching and look what you’ve done- you’ve made it so his last hurrah is being known as your last fling or just another fling in your series. The thought makes your stomach roil at doing that to him- doing that to a man that God help you- you had fallen head over heels for to the point that you wanted him at any cost and in any way you could get him. 

"You're- darlin'- you shouldn't b-be-" He has to stop himself from talking, feeling an old stutter starting to rear its ugly head. His breath comes out shakily as he tries to focus on you, focus on how your shoulders are shaking with tears and how he did this to you. How he's done something that's irrevocably harmed you. He hadn't wanted this, not even at his most angry has he wanted this. "Don't- don't cry. Goddammit, calm down. God, why'd ya hafta get on the ground."

You look up and for a brief moment there’s a flash of fire in your eyes, a pang of pure annoyance at what he says. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you once again! Make the great Elvis Presley have to get down on the ground. Put him at the Jezebel's level. Leave me down here where I apparently deserve to be."

"Ya know I didn't mean it like that! Goddammit Belle, jus' meant my knees-" He has to take a deep breath, slow and steady and shut his eyes as he gets down to your level before he opens them and cups your cheek, trying to be gentle even as you flinch a little and shake your head. "This- you s-shouldn't be cryin' like this." Not over him and what he's done. Over everything that's been done from the very start. "Ain't worth it."

More accurately he ain't worth it.

"I don't know anything when it comes to you, Mr. Presley." You pull away as your tears start to fall even faster. "I am crying like this over a man who thinks I'm- Don't call me Belle, don't call me that like you did when I was leaving you in your bed. Don't act like you care." After all, he doesn't, he can't because who would care for you and feel the way he does about you. Believe the things he does about you without giving you a chance to explain. "I'm just a harlot. I'm the Tour Guide of the school who now even you get to say you've slept with. You've still got it."

"Darlin'." His voice is pitched lower, almost as if he's trying to talk to a skittish animal. As if he's scared if he talks any louder he'll spook you and that you'll run away for good. "I-I never said I didn't care. W-Wouldn't've put ya in my bed that night if I didn't. Ya looked- ya looked freezin' 'n i couldn't stand it." He pauses, his features darkening for a moment. "Then ya left in the mornin' 'fore I even woke up."

You had left in the morning. You had left that morning because every time you stay at someone's house, some professor's house it's always ended so poorly. The way his face darkens as he tells you that makes your body shiver even as his jacket- that for some ungodly reason you still have, that for some ungodly reason you couldn't get rid of- tries to keep you warm. The anger he has makes you think you were right to avoid him that morning- he- but if he cared, if he meant to put you in there- then you should have stayed. He wanted to wake up to you, wanted to have you burrowed into his side. It makes you freeze.

Elvis looks at you and sees how your body tenses up, sees how you're frozen in place and he frowns as you start to speak. "When I stay in the morning, it's not pretty, Elvis. I- I didn't want you to be the same."

His hand clenches into a fist as he shuts his eyes. His breaths are slow and measured for what feels like an eternity before you see him unclench his fist and look at you. "Ya mean how the Chemistry professor's wife would have beaten ya black and blue if she had gotten a real proper hand on ya? 'Stead of the shiner ya had for a week? Or how ya busted yer ankle hoppin' outta tha' one history professor's window. Ya want me to go on?"

Something blooms in your chest at him telling you about those times. You hadn't even met him when any of those times happened. Sure, you had seen him around campus but he didn't- couldn't have even known your name. You open your mouth, tears still falling but slower as your body tries to calm you down. "You- You shouldn't know about-"

"'ve got eyes don't I?" He responds, as if that explains everything. "Y/N- Belle- I noticed ya before ya ever stepped foot in my class. And they talk, darlin', oh do they talk."

It's then that you look away, almost ashamed at knowing that he's always known about you actions. It is absolutely no wonder that he called you what he did, why he believes you to be what he's called you. You have to pause before you speak, trying to gather your thoughts, rubbing at your eyes as you do. "And that's- that's why you've been- if you've heard all the stories and do know about me then I guess you're not wrong in calling me Jezebel. Just adding you to my long list. But- you- when that's what happens when I don't leave- why do you think-"

His voice takes on an edge of frustration you think, or maybe it's genuine hurt. "Ya really think I'd've done any of that to ya? Ya think I'd do any of that t' someone 've been callin' Belle in my mind 'cause I sometimes look at ya n' I can only think of that damn word in French?" He moves to stand up, his knees and other joints cracking just a bit. "Get up, darlin'. I- just trust me this once and get up."

A stubborn part of you wants to stay on the ground, just sit there and stew in your tears and feelings but when you look up at him with blurry eyes you can't help but heave yourself off the floor and plant yourself just close enough to him that you're looking into each other's eyes if you look up through your lashes. "I- Elvis-" You start to speak only to have him cup your face and the warmth of his hand juxtaposed with the calluses on his fingertips has your eyes fluttering shut against your will. He's not supposed to be this soft, not to someone- not to the person he doesn't care about, the person he's only roughly fucked while pretending it didn't happen afterward. "Don't."

When you say that word he pulls away his hand and you think he's listening to you, think that he's doing what you're asking him to do only to hear the next words that come out of his mouth. "Blow your nose, Belle." His hand that hand left your face, had left your cheeks came back with a handkerchief, monogrammed with a cursive EP. He doesn't necessarily shove it under your nose but it's a near miss even as he kisses your forehead. "I'm not moving it from under here till ya do, Belle."

"I'm not a-" You start before looking up at him and realizing despite his comforting air no part of him is doing this because he thinks you're a kid. No, he knows you're a grown woman- you're a grown woman he wants to be with until his dying breath. "I can hold my own handkerchief."

His lips stop in the middle of attempting to give you another peck on your cheek a slight chuckle escaping him. "Would ya quit bein' stubborn? Tryin' to comfort ya and you're tellin' me ya can hold your own handkerchief. 've been a goddamn asshole let me show ya 'm really a good southern gentleman at heart."

"Southern gentleman don't act the way you did." You shakily exhale, realizing that he's trying to comfort you, trying to place small kisses on your face as if that is solving anything. You shake your head. "Southern gentleman don't play with people like that."

"Darlin', trust me, the older we get, the more every single Southern gentleman does." He pauses to look down at you, his blue eyes narrowed. "I try t'be a gentleman but Lord knows 've got a temper wit' a wrath that rivals God himself. 'N I think I took that out on ya. I- I'm- Ya wounded my pride, alright? Sayin' what you said when I asked if ya wanted me t'fuck ya. I know- I know I can get a woman, but I don't- It's usually more of one night stand or somethin' that's lackin'-" He rubs at his neck. "Care. Doesn't have that tender lovin' care I need nowadays more than I did when I was younger."

Care. Oh, you had been so- you both had been so stupid. Your eyes flit up and you notice how vulnerable he looks just in this moment and you swear it takes your breath away. "Elvis. I didn't- I thought you were trying to make me beg." A pause. "I was trying to what I thought you liked. I didn't- You've never been- No one else has made me feel like you make me feel."

So loved, so proud of, so everything under the sun. There's a reason your heart and your brain had wanted to spend the rest of his life and your life together. Being with him felt right when you stripped away everything that's been happening.

Elvis is silent for a moment, almost as if he's debating his next words or actions even as he still places another kiss to the crown of your head and uses his thumb to wipe away tears that keep falling and holding the handkerchief by your nose. He finally puts the handkerchief away, freeing that hand and using it to cup your chin. He tilts your head up just a hair so that you can see his eyes shining with what you think might be unshed tears as his voice becomes so gentle it twists your heart. "What d'ya want from me?"

"Everything." You choke out your answer, your voice scratching and sounding so raw when you do that you almost want to hide. "I want to be with you after this semester. I want to dance with you like we did that night. I- God- I want to wake up with you every day until one of us dies. I just want to be yours."

At your last words the tears start falling in earnest again and it breaks something in Elvis a little, seeing you cry after that confession. He doesn't waste a second before pulling you into a soft kiss, using his grip on your chin to make it easier. You want more but he's pulling away and placing kisses on your forehead and your cheeks, chasing after the tears in a way that's so gentle you'd think it's fatherly but it's not- it's just him allowing you to be a human again. Allowing you to be more than just the harlot or the Jezebel. Seeing you as the person he's always thought you have been before the Incident and even after the Incident.

"Ya mean it?" There's a small part of him that curses how he sounds asking that but he needs to hear it from you. Hear that you're being honest and truthful with him about what you want. "If ya gonna change ya mind I need t'know right now."

You sniffle and shake your head. "I mean it! I want to be with you and only you. I've only been with you since that day. Haven't flirted or anything. I want to do my work on your desk, want to curl up on your couch with you just- I want you. I want you, my Elvis, my Big Daddy because you're- You're the only one who's ever treated me like more." You pause, taking a deep breath. "Like I'm worth getting to know beyond just my pussy. I can't- I don't want to go back to a world where I don't have you. Where I'm not able to kiss you and be with you in whatever way I can. Where I can't fill your house with-" You stop yourself, because that's too much, that's not something you're admitting to him right now. "I just I want you. I'm not changing my mind, if I was going to I would have the second you didn't give me back my panties, Elvis. When you were so mean and hurtful and-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, this time a little less gentle but still nothing compared to what he wants to do to you. His teeth nip at your lower lip just a bit and you can't help the whimper that escapes you as he pulls away your mouth trying to follow his. Looking in his eyes, you see something different, you see the overwhelming lust, the blown pupils threatening to overwhelm his blue eyes but more than that you see a man who looks so in love with you he might as well keel over with the sheer force of it.

"Feel like an idiot for missin' out on that. Gonna keep kissin you like that for as long as i can. Ya realize that." He pauses as his eyes rake over your form. "Get on the desk, Y/N. My sweet Belle." His emphasis on the nickname, Belle versus Jezebel is the only thing that reassures you he's not planning on doing anything rough. That he has a plan for you to look at him while he does- whatever it is. You take a minute to hop up, sniffling once again as you rub at your eyes. Your emotions are still a mess but you can- this helps, you think.

Elvis grunts, using the cane and a grip on your knee to help ease him onto the ground right in front of your legs, right in between your legs as his hands dance up your thighs. His gaze is on you, full of promise and want as his hands inch further up and up until he reaches between your legs, one hand moving to cup your pussy while the other grabs your hip and pulls you a little closer to the edge of the desk.

"You been payin' attention in class?" He asks as you can't help but whimper a little at the feel of his hand covering you like that. "Specifically this one? What we talked 'bout at the beginning?"

Your head nods slowly as you shiver, feeling the fabric of your underwear being pulled lower and lower down your legs. "You mean psalm 51? What about it, Elvis?"

"Think ya can recite it by memory?" The words of his question are punctuated by kisses up your legs, starting with your calves before moving to knees and then to your thighs. He bites softly causing you to clench them together around his head before he mumbles a no. "While I'm here between your legs."

It feels like a challenge and it causes a curl of arousal to shoot directly between your legs as your vagina clenches around nothing. His hand feels the movement and you can feel the smirk of his lips against your skin before you answer as he puts one singular finger inside of you. "I can." You sigh out your answer as he curls that one finger your arousal making it easy for him to.

Hard doesn't even begin to explain how it is to try and speak- to try and remember the psalm as you feel his tongue flick against your clit once, twice, before moving down to your folds. Another finger has joined the first and you can feel them inside of you, following where his tongue traces. His licks and strokes are leisurely done, almost as if he wants to drag this out, wants to go at the pace that you're speaking when all you want to do is have your orgasm that you can feel brewing but when you stop to take a breath, so does he. It's infuriating right until the midway point when you say "grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me" his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking and even giving you a small nip as his fingers curl against your g-spot. It shouldn't be enough to help you cum, it shouldn't and yet you feel your toes curling and your thighs tightening around his head as he hums in satisfaction. Your body shakes, grinding against his mouth even as his free hand tries to keep your hips from moving. Your thighs don't unclench until he taps at your leg and even then they still shake as he pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as you try and pull him up for a kiss only to have him continue his attack on your cunt.

You keep reciting, feeling as if that's what he wants you to do despite how your voice shakes and how you whimper the more sensitive everything becomes. You cum again by the end of your first full recitation, panting with your chest heaving. There is a thought in your mind to tell Elvis to stop, that you need a break but even though you are starting to feel over stimulated, the way he's looking up at you as his mouth does sinful things to you, as he teases your swollen clit with his fingers and his mouth more and more stops you. His free hand moves to lock fingers with the one of your hands that isn't winding through his hair, yanking and earning growls the more you speak. The intimacy of it all has you nearly sobbing tears of joy this time, not the tears of sadness you had been experiencing. You feel yourself cumming in a way that's unfamiliar as you stutter out the words "my tongue will sing of your righteousness" and Elvis has to pull away, a chuckle escaping him as you see his whole face might as well be covered in your release. It takes him a moment to recover but you swear you hear him talking about squirting when he kisses his way up your thigh and back to his task at hand. When you finally finish the psalm the second time your body is shaking and his tongue and fingers and everything are so overwhelming that when you attempt to start the psalm for a third time you say the first words five times.

"Daddy please, let me cum. Please, I've been good." The words are whimpers when they leave your mouth as you try and grind and get to that edge.

"I know, Belle, been so good, taste even better." He mutters against your clit.

That does it, that has your hand clenching his and your other pulling his hair as you grind on his face, practically smothering him as you cum. The sheer intensity of it has you thumping backward on the desk, trying to catch your breath as your legs shake and you hear him speaking against your thigh. You catch bits of the word holy and jezebel and God and you feel a warmth settle in your body that you can't quite explain. You use your hand to pull him away enough that you can understand him before you ask.

"Are- Are you talking to God- thanking God for me?" The concept boggles your mind but it's so touching at the same time that your heart threatens to burst at the idea.

"Think 've been thankin' God for ya since I first saw ya, but 'specially since I saw ya in my class. My holy- My sweet holy Belle." He winces at the crack his knees make when he gets up and leans both on the cane on the desk when he finally stands up. "None of 'em deserved ya 'n I'm not too sure I do but- 'll try to deserve ya."

Your hands move to cup his face, marveling in how he nuzzles up against your palm before you smile, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Trust me, Elvis, I think you're the only one who ever has." You nuzzle at his nose before pulling away. "How about you let this pretty little sinner, this harlot, this Jezebel take care of you. I don't have a class and-"

Elvis cuts you off with another kiss before he nods. "Only if Big Daddy-" He looks at you, reminding you that yes, your nickname you have for him snuck out. "Gets to take care of his pretty lil sinner, his Belle, and help her wash away all those sins."

The light in the smile you give him could power the whole of the campus for months if you could bottle it up. You slide off the desk a little less gracefully than you mean to before nodding. "Lead the way, Elvis." A pause. "I love you."

"Ain't I the luckiest man for it too." He adjusts himself in his pants, hoping you don't notice that there's a bit of a wet spot on them where his cock should be. "Love ya too. Come on now, never did get to show ya Graceland's shower in my room."

taglist: @elvisgirl35, @butlersluvbott, @lokis-right-femur, @godlypresley, @steph-speaks, @lindszeppelin, @eliseinmemphiss, @thatbanditqueen, @venus-haze, @lrd98, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @notstefaniepresley, @holyastronauts, @vintageshanny, @powerofelvis and @ellie-24 and i think that's it? i don't know and apologies if you got tagged twice, i trusted a copy/paste.

[k-evans-reads]

On Deck

Chapter 19

Summary: Although they grew up in the same small town, Chris and Sam had both gone their separate ways a long time ago. Chris moved up to become a MLB star, one of the best in the business, while Sam stayed stuck in the same small town. But when multiple injuries ended the Red Sox prodigy’s career, he winds up back in the same small town he swore he’d never be back to. The past may not stay in the past any longer, as old wounds begin to creep back up.

Pairing: MLB!Chris Evans X OFC Samantha “Sam” Merrick

Word Count: 4,278

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None!

Previous | Main Masterlist | On Deck Masterlist

Sam could hear the echo of door opening, making her eyes peel away from the laptop screen where the professor was teaching. She saw Chris’ broad frame come walking in with Dodger at his side as he tossed off his Red Sox’s hat and opened his mouth to greet her. Not wanting to interrupt the class, she wildly waved her hand back and forth to get his attention before pointing to the laptop, silently explaining she was still in her class, making Chris give her a comical grimace and mouthed ‘Sorry’ before quietly moving to the bedroom with Dodger right on his heels. 

She turned her attention back to the screen, picking up her pen and jotting down some last-minute notes before the professor wrapped up the class for the day. It’d been a week filled with nerves and anxiety for Sam’s first classes in nearly ten years. She was exhausted already and it was only Wednesday, but the fact that she and Chris had spent nearly all their spare time touring what felt like every home for sale in their area certainly hadn’t helped. 

As soon as the virtual class session ended and her webcam turned off, she slumped back against the leather barstool with relief, rubbing at the growing pain in her temples. As she stared at the smooth white ceiling of the kitchen, she realized there was only one thing that she wanted and it was currently in the other room. Sammy pushed herself off of the stool, closing her laptop, and then trudged towards the bedroom where she found Chris laying sideways on the bed, his sock-covered feet crossed and one arm behind his head while the other held his phone as he watched a replay from the baseball game earlier that day. 

She gave Dodger’s head a quick pat before walking in farther to the room, getting Chris’ attention as he asked, “How was the math class, baby?” All Sam could do was groan, causing Chris to laugh before she kept scuffing over to the bed, crawling on it to be able to flop down on top of his warm body. Immediately his arms came around her, holding her tight while kissing her forehead. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“I swear they’ve changed math since we were in school.” 

“Well I wasn’t even very good at it then,” he murmured, his chest rumbling as he chuckled. “Hey, I’m so proud of you though, baby.” 

She let out a small huff, turning his head against his chest as she reminded him, “Chris, you’ve said that every single day this week.” 

“And I’m going to keep saying it because I am,” he replied easily, his head tilting down to meet her shifting gaze. “I just fuckin’ love you.” 

“I know,” she smiled, her hand moving to run through his messy hair. “I love you too… so much.” 

He grinned back, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Well today might have been a hard day but I’ve got a little present for you,” he drawled, an excited look settling on his face. 

Sam rolled her eyes back, thinking about everything from the expensive purchases he made for her – and for Riley – to the everyday generosity he showed. “Your ‘little’ presents are never little,” she muttered knowingly. 

“Do you want it or not, smartass?” 

“Fine, what is it?” 

Sam could see him digging in the pocket of his joggers before fishing out something that was, in fact, small inside his hand. She couldn’t quite make out what it was until he held it up, showing a shiny silver key sparkling in the light. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the key, knowing exactly what it was for, but her mind almost wouldn’t let her believe it. 

“The house?!” She asked quickly, her voice high and shockingly loud for how exhausted she felt. “We got it?!” 

“Yep. It’s all ours, baby,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her lips when she silently asked for one. 

Her eyes darted down to the single key still in his hand, her mind racing with things she wanted to do. “Can we go see it?” She asked.

His head flew back against the mattress, his hand squeezing Sam’s hip as he roared with laughter. She smiled as she felt the vibration of his chest against her own. “Why do you think I left my shoes by the door?” 

Sam was off the bed and running to grab her own shoes and jacket in the blink of an eye, practically vibrating with excitement as they went down to climb in the car. She could hardly believe as they drove out of the small town toward the ocean that they were going to their house. Sam pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Riley to let him know where they were in case he got home from his shift at the movie theater before them, then just relaxed in the passenger seat trying to figure out if this truly was happening. 

They arrived at the sprawling Cape Cod style home, one that Sam had loved the moment she saw it. It had always been a fantasy of hers to own a home, a fantasy that she never thought would come true, but the fact that this home – this 1700s home – was theirs was not only a huge accomplishment in Sam’s eyes, but a relief. Here… there were no neighbors even within earshot, thanks to their several acres. There were no landlords threatening them with eviction weekly. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was theirs. And it was home.

Sam didn’t even realize that she was running to the front door until she heard Chris’ loud laugh echoing a long way behind her once they had parked in the winding driveway but she couldn’t help it. Getting to open the door and step inside the place she’d be coming home to everyday was enough to bring tears to her eyes. They took their time walking through the bottom floor wordlessly as they soaked it all in, but Sam got a moment alone with her emotions when Chris left to go get the champagne the realtor had left them chilling on the counter. 

She could hear the pop of the cork faintly as she wandered out to the back patio, her eyes soaking in the expansive yard that she could already picture Dodger running through and the peaceful little pond nearby that she already couldn’t wait to see frozen over in the winter. There were absolutely no words that could describe the feeling of peace and happiness that came from the inside out but what she didn’t know was that the tears that were streaming down her face matched the ones that were coming out of Chris’ blue eyes only a few feet behind her. 

He had walked up so quietly that she hadn’t heard him and Chris took the opportunity to just watch her. With two glasses of champagne in his hand and silent tears falling down his cheeks and getting lost in his beard, he just stood there watching his Sammy looking at their new home. Chris thought back to so so many years ago, remembering sitting out on his mother’s back porch with Sam when they were kids and wished there was some way to go back in time and tell his younger self that one day he’d be here with her. 

Chris had loved Sammy for just about as long as he could remember, even if it wasn’t always at the forefront of his mind, it was always there. But now that he actually had her, got to love her, and be with her for every high and low that life brought, he knew that there was no way he could possibly even imagine being without her. He wasn’t kidding when he said he planned on marrying her but after her more recent vocalization of wanting that same thing, he knew that he was going to make it happen because more than anything, there was nothing in his life that he wanted to have if it wasn’t with her. 

He set down the champagne on the nearby table before walking up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist while resting his chin on her shoulder and quietly asked, “Are you happy, baby?” 

“I just can’t believe this,” Sammy breathed, leaning her cheek against his,  “I don’t know how to get my brain to understand that this is our house.” 

“This is our home,” he corrected, turning his face to kiss her cheek softly. 

Chris could practically see the wheels in her head turning, so many emotions passing over her face as her voice crackled, “...I’ve never really felt like I had a home before.” 

“Well you do now.” 

“I feel so frivolous having a house this big though,” Sam admitted while her eyes took in the expansive beautiful land that now was theirs, the rolling hills overlooking the pond at the edge of their property. 

“Are you kidding? Riley’s going to have his shit spread out everywhere in no time,” Chris laughed, trying to lighten the mood but also knowing just how true the words were from how often they were finding his backpack, shoes, or other belongings spread out. 

“I know, but there���s five bedrooms…” She trailed off while reaching a hand up to run through her thick hair before anxiously looking around. “And with us not planning on kids, maybe it’s too big.” 

“Hey, I want you to look at me,” Chris’ voice was gentle as he lifted a hand to rest on her cheek and gently turned her face to his, seeing the deep emotions in her eyes and reminded her, “You’ve spent your whole life giving up nearly everything. Let me give this to you. This one thing that you want. I want us to have a home together, because the only thing that I want in life is you.” 

Her wide brown eyes searched his own ocean blue eyes, silent for several moments until she nodded, her voice wavering slightly as she breathed, “...I love you Chris.” 

“I love you too, Sammy,” he spoke with so much truth and confidence, shrugging as he went on, “And besides, we never said having kids was a hard no, right? Who knows what will happen in 10 years.” 

“Well I know one thing, in ten years I’m still going to be right here because there’s no way I’m leaving that heated swimming pool,” Chris loved seeing that familiar sparkle in her eyes as she snickered and motioned toward the beautiful pool. 

“If I would have known that having a heated swimming pool was going to be all it took to keep you around I would have had one installed in my fuckin’ living room,” he muttered playfully, smiling widely as Sam laughed with him. 

They explored the house, Chris watching Sam think more than he looked around himself. He watched as she excitedly mentioned things that might work in certain spaces – like finally getting the piano he’d been eyeing for weeks, noting that one side of the living room would be perfect for it. He watched her eyes linger in the kitchen on the marble countertops as she ghosted a hand over them, knowing she still couldn’t believe this was her reality. They poked their heads into the large den off the kitchen, sharing excited grins just as Riley texted them that he was leaving work. Quickly, they called Riley, asking him to pick up a pizza and come over to the new house, excited for him to see it as well. Once the pizza and sodas were ordered and he had easily agreed to the plan, they quickly made their way back to the wing of the home with their bedroom, a wing that the previous owners had added to the home in the past few years. 

Passing through the bedroom quickly, they climbed the staircase between their room and the garage, finding themselves in what they’d quickly decided would be Sam’s office. It was separated enough from the rest of the home to give her the privacy and quiet she needed for school, while also being close enough that she wasn’t far removed from everyone else. 

Just as Sam turned to say something to Chris, his phone began vibrating in his pocket. Giving her an apologetic look, he reached for it, his brow furrowing as he saw the name. “Hey are you almost here? I’m starving,” he asked Riley, able to tell Riley was on speakerphone in the car still.  

“I’m here but I don’t think you sent me the right address,” the boy told Chris, his voice tentative and a bit hesitant. Chris furrowed his brow as he knew he sent the right address, but as he made his way over to the windows overlooking the winding driveway, he was relieved as he watched Riley pull in behind Chris’ own car in Sam’s old green sedan. 

“It’s the right place, I see your car,” Chris reassured him, smirking to himself as he listened to Sam snort as he waited for Riley’s response.

“YOU BOUGHT THIS?!” The teenager nearly yelled, Chris pulling the phone away from his ear with a wince. “This is a fuckin’ mansion!” 

“Well get inside and come see your room,” Chris replied just before he hung up the call, following a giggling Sam down the stairs and outside through the porch to the driveway. He smiled fondly as Sam and Riley hugged each other tightly, able to practically see the weight of this moment, what it meant to them both. He was touched when the teenager hugged Chris tightly before following his sister towards the front door, leaving Chris to grab the pizza out of the still unlocked car. 

Once they were inside, both Sam and Chris’ eyes were locked on Riley’s frame, watching as the teenager excitedly looked in every room of the downstairs, opening doors to look inside bathrooms, closets, Chris’ small office, and the laundry room. He had practically the same reaction – except a bit less restrained – to Sam when he saw the kitchen and the primary suite, but when he turned to Chris and Sam back up in Sam’s office, his face looked like a kid on Christmas when he asked them, “Are we seriously going to live here?” 

Chris rolled his eyes fondy as that fond sideways grin slid back on his face, “No we just bought it to look at,” he sarcastically replied.

“After that smartass remark maybe I don’t want to live here,” Riley muttered, laughing when Chris shoved him playfully. 

“Will both of you idiots just shut up and let me have my moment?” Sam’s voice interrupted them, their light bickering stopping instantly. “I’ve never owned a house before and I want to enjoy it!” 

Her younger brother nodded, straightening up noticeably as he looked around the empty room, at the windows with a view of the pond and the sprawling land, complete with the small guesthouse and heated pool in the distance. Chris had a feeling Sam would put whatever desk she chose right in front of those windows, knowing she’d want to look at that view as much as possible. “What is this room going to be?” Riley asked, interrupting Chris’ thoughts. 

“Sammy’s office,” Chris informed him with a grin. “I told our realtor that anywhere we looked at needed to have a spot for Sam, so she’d have an office for her school work and everything.” 

But out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam cross her arms over her chest as she rolled her eyes and drawled, “Yeah because with a five bedroom house, the one thing we needed on top of that is an office…” 

“Well now who’s being the smartass?” Chris smirked as he turned to look at her, shooting her a wink as she gave him a look.

At Chris’ wink, Riley groaned, asking them, “Can we have our pizza before you two start making out?” 

They easily agreed, climbing the stairs to head back to where they’d left the pizza in the kitchen. But Sam soon broke the silence, curiously asking her brother,  “Why do you think Chris calling me a smartass means we’ll make out?” 

The teenager shrugged, muttering, “Because you two are gross, that’s why.” 

She laughed, turning her head to shoot Chris a small smirk at those words before she replied, “Well I’m not so sure you can say that the spot for my office was the selling point, I’m pretty sure that had something to do with the golf course right down the road.” 

“I mean… that didn’t hurt.” 

They reached the kitchen, grabbing the paper plates from the bag on top of the pizza box before Riley headed to sit down on the herringbone floors as Sam and Chris poured themselves more champagne in the kitchen. 

Chris glanced over at Sam, watching her move throughout their new kitchen, warmth filling him at that realization. “So you really like it, baby?” He asked her quietly, smiling softly as they met each other’s eyes. 

She smiled back, genuine emotion filling her expression. She hesitated several times before she spoke, enough that Chris began to needlessly worry whether something was wrong. But his question was answered when her voice, laden with emotion, replied, “I couldn’t love it more.” 

“We’re going to be really happy here together, Sammy,” he told her, moving to rub his hands over her arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, unable to not imagine them growing old together there, with Dodger, Riley, his niece and nephews, his siblings, and his parents all frequent visitors there. They’d host holidays here, have Christmas dinners in the dining room behind them, open gifts on Christmas morning – in just a few short months – in the den where Riley was now. They’d drive back here at the end of every baseball season, escaping the chaos of the previous seven months to relax in the peace and quiet, undisturbed for days. It’d be the home where Sam earned her degree, and maybe even more, and getting to see his girl reach her full potential, uninhibited by economic barriers was something that made Chris more emotional than anything. The entire home represented them, it was a culmination of the last nearly twenty-three years since they’d met each other thanks to Shanna and Sam’s friendship. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“We already are happy together,” Sam corrected him, her voice heavy as it broke him out of his thoughts.

“Got that right, baby,” he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips before he blinked the tears away from his eyes and followed her into the den, pizza and champagne in hands.

Riley shook his head as he watched the replay on the restaurant’s TVs, disappointment filling his face. He munched on a fry before he dropped it, commenting to Chris, “They shouldn’t run the ball.” 

“I know, they never do,” Chris agreed easily, his leg tapping against the hightop barstool. His eyes stayed locked on the teenager next to him, looking as he eagerly watched the Patriots game. 

The boy moved to reach for his milkshake, pausing right before he took a sip and offering, “You want any of this milkshake?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Chris shook his head before he cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat slightly. Riley nodded, taking a long sip of the milkshake, and his eyes stayed locked distractedly on the oversized televisions. “But there was something I wanted to talk to you about, bud.” 

He nodded slightly, barely reacting as he answered, “Uh huh.” 

Chris watched the teenager, seeing how distracted he was. He gave him a moment before he prodded further, telling him, “Riley, it’s serious.” 

Riley’s brows furrowed as he turned to look at Chris. “Is something going on?” He asked him quietly, a deep frown on his face. 

Chris cleared his throat, his face flushing as he stammered, “No, I mean, well hopefully yes,” and shrugged half-heartedly.  

Riley’s concern only deepened, his voice tense and insistent as he pleaded, “Can you just tell me already?” 

“You sound just like Sammy,” Chris smiled fondly, his eyes darting down to his lap momentarily before he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “And that’s what I want to talk about… I’m planning on asking Sam to marry me sometime soon.” 

He watched Riley anxiously, feeling incredibly sick as he confessed what he’d been planning for a while now to someone finally. And while he’d always planned to share the idea with Riley – and likely at least Scott – prior to the actual event, it didn’t mean that putting it into words didn’t terrify him even more, worried that Riley would react poorly. But he was confused when the teenager simply paused, looking down at the half-eaten burger and fries on his plate, whispering, “Oh,” before he reached for his milkshake again. 

“Just oh?” Chris asked him quietly, frowning slightly. “Is that a good oh, or a bad oh?” 

He shrugged his shoulders, his lips pursed as he admitted, “Good.” 

“Riley, I seriously want to hear your feelings about it. There’s a reason I’m talking to you first before asking Sammy,” Chris prodded openly, trying to get the teen to open up. It’d been a long effort of his and Sam’s to be more open not only with each other, but with Riley as well. The teen had been so used to living practically alone between his mother and Sam’s long work days, and the multitude of changes that Chris brought on when he stepped into their lives provided more stability, which also brought slightly uncomfortable conversations where they pushed each other to speak their minds and their emotions, despite how uncomfortable it may be. 

Riley shrugged again and the action hurt Chris more than he expected, but the words that followed only hurt more as he mumbled, “Well what you guys do isn’t really up to me.” 

“But it matters what you think, Riley,” Chris pushed back, wanting Riley to know how much not only Sam, but Chris as well, valued him and everything he thought about, felt, or even hated. They wanted to know everything he was willing to share and more. “You know how much Sam loves you and would never do anything that would hurt you, and neither would I.” 

“I know,” Riley whispered, swallowing nervously as he shifted in the seat. 

“If we get married, things are going to change, it’s just how it works, but I want to make sure you’re okay with it. I know it’s been a lot,” Chris began, his voice trailing off slightly as he saw Riley meet his eyes.

The teen nodded, keeping eye contact with Chris. “It’s just weird that a year ago it was basically just me and Sam in our apartment and now things are just so different,” he admitted finally.

“I know how much change you’ve gone through Riley, and I’m sorry that it hasn’t always been easy. I’m sorry that you and Sam haven’t always had it easy,” Chris apologized, meaning every word. He watched sadly as Riley broke away from his eyes to look at his lap, knowing how uncomfortable he must feel. “I just love your sister, Riley. I love her more than anything and I want to be with her and I want to keep being there for you because I love you too.” 

His eyes were wide and emotional as he looked back up at Chris, quietly confessing, “...I love you too Chris.” 

And although he didn’t verbalize it, Chris could see in the teenager’s eyes just how much he meant it. Chris had come to see how much Riley was like Sam in the fact that he stuffed so many of his own feelings, partly out of necessity, but then struggled to be vulnerable and open. He’d seen him slowly start to change a little, but with him being a teenager caused him to have even more trouble sharing than Sam could. But in that moment, Chris could see all the feelings in his eyes, and knew how much Riley meant what he said. 

Being the tactile person that he was, Chris couldn’t help himself and threw an arm around Riley’s shoulders to give him a side hug and smiled from ear to ear when Riley hugged him right back before saying, “If you want to ask Sam to marry you, I’m fine with that.” 

“I want you to be more than fine with it, Riley. I want it to be a good thing for everyone,” Chris told him, knowing that if Riley was the slightest bit uncomfortable or not okay with anything, he’d do anything to help him, even if it meant putting off proposing. 

“...It is,” Riley finally said, giving him a small grin. “I know how much you love Sam… even if I wish you weren’t so obvious about it in front of me.” 

Chris smiled widely, a lump in his throat and his eyes burning as the restaurant roared as the Patriots scored a touchdown. Riley’s eyes moved to the TVs, his jaw dropping as he watched the replay of the play happily. And while Chris watched Riley carefully, slightly envying the way Riley easily handled the intense conversation and shifted back to happily drinking his milkshake and enjoying the game, he knew he wouldn’t trade the emotional weight of the moment he felt so intensely for anything in the world. 

A/N: We freaking LOVED this chapter and seriously were so emotional. PLEASE share all your thoughts!

[elie-draloup]

Aaaalright, Aslante Legacy, final game (until the new one comes out) of the serie, thoughts and theories ! Once again, spoilers for the entirety of the two trilogies and the movie. Probably some swearing too, here and there.

-Gotta love how every game starts with the Professor receiving some letter and immediately deciding without further thoughts or plan or questions : OK let's go, screw my job, screw Luke's parents (screw Flora), we're going on a new possibly deadly dangerous adventure !

-... Sycamore is actually Descole, isn't he ? I mean... Look at the hair.

-Excuse me, a million years old ?!

- Luke, meet your new big sister, she can make magic with her brain.

- OK but how are they going to explain this *opens door with incantation* thing.

-Oh wait it's easy : Vocal password. Aslante civilisation wasn't more advanced than us, they were just super overdramatic about it. Mystery solved.

- And Aurora can make a ship crash because she has a super magnet transplanted in her head.

-Kidding. This is a Layton game. Maybe the girl isn't even real and is an induced hallucination given by an old toxic gas freed from the ice and Targent is just a cellphones company harassing us to sell things.

-This or there was a big misunderstanding about a ridiculously ambitious escape game that went really wrong.

-Last option is that Aslantes indeed used to be technologically advanced and Aurora is indeed 1 million years old, but there has to be something else because I need the final dramatic reveal where Layton points.

-random person ; Oh so you're a little family on vacation! What a beautiful couple you make with beautiful children !

Luke : Actually, we're not related.

Layton : I don't have kids.

Emmy : And I'm single.

Aurora : What's a family again ?

-That scene were Grosky almost got killed by a bunch of mafia guys was brutal.

-Corruption, violence, attempted murder, terrorism, intimidation, mafia-like organisation, kidnapping, art theft, spying... And then there's Descole. I just love how you have so many "action-movie" kind of threats, and then you have that one middle-aged theater kid in a carnival suit.

-Well, now I can add human sacrifices.

-Mushroom people

-Egg people

-What's next, cactus people ?

-Oh no, the actual Far West.

-BIG DOGGO

-is that were the "Layton and the very large dog" thing comes from or...?

-Forgot to write things, but basically people poisened themselves with drugs AGAIN but with the help of a kid, a bird and a library they're okay. So now we have a bunch of eggs but I'll make a tour to do all the puzzles I might have missed. Sorry guys, archeology can wait, I've got some puzzles to do.

-Aurora is still politely waiting for me to talk to her in order to move the plot. The answer is still no.

-Since Sycamore is Descole (I dunno, the hair. Only Descole would have that kind of haircut.), I'm starting to wonder if maybe... Emmy works for him ? Because.. I dunno, some PNJ just told Sycamore how he seemed to care a lot about Emmy, and Sycamore never striked me as the kind of person to look (or even be) caring so yeah I just... Am I reading too much into that ? Emmy does know martial arts and kinda came out of nowhere. But also... She's Emmy. Or maybe it's just a way to say "Sycamore may be Descole, who did tried to kill the protagonists on several occasions, but hey, he can be a nice guy too when he's not maniacally laughing out of madness !". Or just a dumb pnj saying nonsense.

-A fake egg huh. Who did it. It HAS to be someone travelling with us. Sycamore could be an obvious suspect but...Targent has the egg and Descole hate them. Hm.

-Yes, bring the kids to the evil mafia's lair surrounded by people with guns. Then don't let Flora take the train for her safety.

-Ah well one dude got shoot off screen apparently. Probably bleeding as hell. Wonderful sight for Luke's nightmares, a guy covered in blood, barely managing to escape from the people still running after him to end his life. Let's follow him.

-Yes quit your mafia job, take some vaccations, get married or whatever, wish you luck guys. We really hope that you're genuine otherwise that guy we left behind will be very dead huh.

-Sycamore looks way too familiar with Targent's methods. So that what happened to your wife and daughter, huh ? But Kornev seems disinterested in him now, despite his Aslante knowledge. Is the "Legacy" just a method to bring people to life ? That would explain why Descole is so eager to find it. Also can't wait to see Layton's reaction to the reveal of him being Descole. I mean, yes it's just a theory but.... Common it's just so obvious.

-I'm sorry but this girl attempted suicide, we should listen to her and IMMEDIATELY stop this whole thing like she said. I don't know what the azran legacy do but it seems like it's a bad idea to find out, after all.

-Eh, told ya. He had to reveal himself with his signature laugh, didn't he. Also... Yes ! Swordfight! (I feel like Layton will never respect him enough to fight him with an actual sword. This feels like a "You're the loser yet I'm the one with a broken pipe, you pathetic fake swordsman." vibe.

-Can we talk about how heartbroken Aurora must be right now ?

Aurora : You're my friend ? You mean it ?

Desmound: Of course !

Also Desmound : I'm stealing this from y'a, I used you all as a bunch of tools mouwhaha bye !

Aurora : =(

-PROFESSOR YOU CAN'T BRING FOUR PEOPLE TO FLY ON ONE SINGLE DEAD DINOSAUR was what I thought during the cutscene. Until I saw it was just Layton to catch up Descole. It's just... Layton has a HISTORY with hand-made flying devices.

-Also Kornev didn't seem to care that much about losing so they'll just follow them on the finale temple with a bunch of guns I guess. I got spoiled that Luke is going to die and I'm starting to worry a little. Hence why I think they're going to unlock the power of bringing people back to life. But I also guess such power comes with disastrous consequences. Though by the look of Aurora behaviour, it seems like the whole world is doomed.

-Oh hey Descole. Need a hand opening that door ?

-And here they are with the guns.

-Hehe, gun proof ceiling.

-EMMY. YOU. HOW COULD YOU. LUKE HE TRUSTED YOU. THE FUCK. EMMY WHY. AND FOR THIS BASTARD ?! YOU KNOW HE'S A BASTARD RIGHT ? YOU THREATENED LUKE. YOUR LITTLE PAL. WITH A FREAKIN STALACTITE TO HIS NECK. THAT'S A KILLING MOVE EMMY. WOULD YOU HAVE THE GUTS FOR IT. WOULD YOU.

-OK I'm fine, it's ok, alright, good, let's keep going. It's not like I wasn't used to betrayals in video games. But still. What the heck.

-Heeeey, Descole, pal. Guess we're a team now, if you're not in the mood of trying to kill me today ! And you know I would destroy the entire world and then myself if anything had to happen to Luke, riiiight?

-The guy asked for a team up himself, I don't even get to laugh at him.

-Oh thank stars Luke is okay. But for how long.

-I'm sorry Emmy, but you still lied and spied on us. Also threatened Luke. It sucks because you're awesome but still a traitor. I suppose that explains why she won't be around for the next games.

-Luke and Descole being salty at eachother is SO fun to watch.

-what the heck.

-Descole took a bullet for Luke. First of all : Can you PLEASE stop giving this kid near-death experiences, I heard he's supposed to die at some point and it makes these situations even more intense. Even if I know he'll come back thanks to the other games but still. Also... What the actual heck ?

-.... Brothers ?!

-.... Father ?!!

-Wat

-Well, that was... a lot. Guess I'll let you die there, I have to save the world so uh, not the greatest time for a family reunion.

-Everything has gotten 1000 times more awkward between these two. I mean imagine if Descole make it alive:

Des : uh...Little brother.

Layton: Let's not.

Des : Yeah, sounded wrong when I said it too.

-You....You're telling me that all the grunts died on the way here ? Well good thing we haven't met with any of the corpses I guess.

- See Emmy ? This guy would rather see you die on a puzzle than try it himself. I hate him so much. Now I get why Emmy seemed so taken aback after her first meeting with the Professor. That's why she was surprised to be shown some consideration, after years spent with this guy.

-He just... ran the sword through her heart with NO second thought.

-Wait, EVERYONE dies ?!

-And in a very painful and disturbing way ?!!

-They were on the ground. They were dead dead.

-End of the world : Successfully avoided! At the price of ☆trauma☆

-Luke watching his adopted sister disintegrate. Ouch.

-Descole being like : SEE YA ASSHOLES. If he stayed he was sooooo going to jail.

-Fffffffriend ? With him ? Hershel.... I get that it's your biological father, but he also proved himself to be some crazy heartless jerk. On the behalf of "good intentions", but the end doesn't justify the ways. Loved how he made it clear that his parents are his ACTUAL parents and nothing, not even a biological father will ever changr that though. And that HE IS Hershel Layton.

- So let me get this straight. Layton lost his family at 6 because of the mafia of science(was this close to my random "seven curse" theory.). Then lost his best friend at 17 and grieved him for 18 years while blaming himself before he got back from the dead. Then lost his fiancee at 27 and almost got killed by trying to discover the circumstances of her death. Then lost a kid he had to take care of when he was 35 right after being revived by said kid. And witnessed the death of his fiancee AGAIN at 37. And all this with no therapy. I think I get why he has such a harsh time expressing his emotions.

-At least Emmy got to live a REAL independent life. I think she couldn't stay after all that since the trust has been broken, but she still get to have the opportunity to grow on her own to choose who SHE wants to be, not some fake uncle. Wonder if we'll have some news from her in the next game, since now they can acknowledge both of the trilogies.

-Luke and Layton after getting home:

Layton : Not a word to your parents about the whole... dying and stuff ?

Luke : Nope. Definitely not.

-I wonder if one of the reasons Hershel is more protective of Flora is because he's projecting Aurora on her. I mean it's hinted that she got reincarnated, but to him she's still very dead.

-I hope we'll have at least some cameos or references to all those characters in the new game. And a hint that they all went to therapy because heck do they need it. Do something of these coins, professor.

-Wait a second, something's wrong.

LAYTON HASN'T DONE THE DRAMATIC FINGER REVEAL THING

- Probably because he was as confused by everything for this one.

-Besides it's hard to be more overdramatic than Descole. Desmound? Descole?

-Des.

-Wait wait wait... It's implied that Desmound's wife and daughter got killed by Targent, right ? Did it happened under the command of his joke of a father? Did that happened or did I forgot something ?! Like what.

- Hershel please don't call this shithead a friend. He's not. Why am I more angry at Bronev than you are.

-Silly idea of Layton and Descole attempting a talk like normal brothers :

Des : So remember that time we died ?

Layton: Oh yes. Yes. And, uh, saved the world.

Des : And that one kid really died.

Layton : I can still kill you in a swordfight you know, that's gentleman's approved.

Des : *sips tea*

And this was the final one. I would have done Mysterious Village and Pandora's Box too but I already played those before I began to write my thoughts while playing so there would be no point now that I know the plots. Anyway, I absolutely loved these games and can't wait to play the new one on Switch, after going through both trilogies, I'm ready for the new wave of angst !

[summercourtship]

two potential alternate pov scenes: i would love to see some of edwards manipulations from his perspective, even a collection of snippets (when she has her conversation with edward during the tour, honestly any instance where he hands her a coffee, and less on theme but that moment where she says she applied for the internship but she obviously doubts her ability to get it and he seems surprised - in my mind he reacts with surprise/shortness when she implies her own unworthiness because /obviously/ she's capable, he wouldn't be interested in her otherwise, because he is /exceptional/ and implying he'd waste his time with a completely normal person is frankly insulting to him - but I would love to see what you actually have him thinking in that moment)

Also, the (third?) time bats shows up at her apartment, and she's just in a t-shirt and nothing else. frankly I just wanna hear his internal monologue of 'i hope she's okay, is she a criminal that would suc-oh okay hot love that - oh god she's so invested in riddler she probably is in on it shit.

im so invested in all the relationships you've written in this fic, the dynamics are fantastic. jonathan, toxic situationship of the year award, her professor, her boss, the dr in charge of the single-blind research into experiment hallucinogenic drugs she doesn't know she's participating in. king.

brucie baby almost immediately reminding her that interacting with people who like you is like, nice, actually. bats being a condescending but caring jerk. pointedly not warning her about just how bad her situationship is (there's no way the world's greatest detective didn't put together that she's dating Crane and has a resistance to fear toxin). keep it up socially inept enabler.

edward. there's not much to say except I love an obsessive loser <3 romantic scavenger hunts, top tier. clearly knows and wants her to figure out that Crane is fucking with her but won't like. tell her. hope this romantic trial works out better than the last one!

I assume you mean Jon's manipulations and yes, I definitely will add that to the list of options!! Also the third interaction, of course (especially because we don't know yet WHY bats was hanging around our apartment... like, it definitely has to do with Jon/Scarecrow but the reader doesn't know that).

Thank you! It's been a challenge juggling the dynamics and relationships but it's super rewarding because I'm obsessed with all of them. I think you summed them all up very accurately.

Jonathan- toxic. toxic. toxic. but he's hot so we forgive him. he clearly likes the reader in some capacity but also enjoys fucking with her. in that sense, I guess you could say he views her more like a... toy? He thinks she's intelligent, but he still relishes in being able to manipulate her, he likes that there is just something about him that keeps her from really realizing the gravity of her situation.

Bruce- Bruce being almost like a friend to her vs bats being exasperated by her stupid decisions. but he also still has a bit of the mentality that she got herself into this mess, she should be able to get herself out, like he's gotten better at helping people and inspiring hope instead of fear but he still doesn't quite grasp that sometimes people are stuck in situations they can't get themselves out of. I do not think he will recognize this until he really starts to get to know her as Bruce.

Edward- he cannot help himself!! it would be so easy for him to just tell her that Jon is experimenting on her but... where's the fun in that? Also he knows that she doesn't trust him, so why would she believe him? But she's warming up to him now, I mean she's gonna go find whatever the hell he wants her to when she could easily just take that note to Batman and admit that she was coerced into helping him escape. But no, she's curious and still wants to feel special and that is what Ed is banking on (also because he believes that she is special and important.)

[techbonnie]

... I popped a blood vessel in my eye and it HURTS. So I've been doing this. The Neighbors.

Eventually sometime after Freddys band takes off, they move into a subdivision and adopt Gregory. Its one of the few places that will allow carnivores to live there with prey. It was one of those world building things that I really liked seeing in Loonatics unleashed.

Basically every house here is a McMansion. Except for Roger and Jessica Rabbits place, that one is a proper mansion.

BonniexFreddy & Gregory (6)

So first we have Bonnie and Freddy Fazbear. Bonnie takes Freddys last name since Bunny is the rabbit equivalent of Smith, you can't throw a rock with out hitting a bunny with the last name Bunny. Freddy is gone on tour for months leaving Bonnie home to take over a majority of the parenting tasks with Gregory.

Bonnie owns Bonnie Bowl, a bowling alley that he owns and operates, he doesn't need a job with the money that Freddy brings in, but its a good place for the kids to hang out when they need a space away from their parents, plus it give Bonnie something to do really. Gregorys friends often get free games and free food.

Gregory is absolutely unhinged, and almost feral. When they adopted him they don't know much about his history, but they do know he was found sleeping in an alley some where in Acmetropolis. He's got abandonment issues as well which makes Freddys life style of being gone for months hard on the cub.

Rev Runner x Tech E. Coyote & Lil' Beeper(5) & Calamity(7)

Tecumseh E. Coyote (He goes by Tech), graduated youngest and top of his class, completing an Engineering Doctorate in record time (ON scholarships Tech grew up poor), certified Genius and wont let any one forget it either. ACME University wanted him as a professor and he accepted. Tech's father Wile E Coyote owns Wile's repair and lube in town, and Tech will often help his father on what ever hes working on when he has the time. He'll often bring lil' Beeper and Calamity with him to see their Grandparents. Or at least the ones that will accept both of them. Techs mother Dusty passed away before Calamity was born, but Wile has since remarried to a Roadrunner her name is Roadie, and shes nice, Tech likes her. (No relation to Rev and his family)

Rev Runner was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father owns a robotics and toy company, that he was sent to ACME University to get a business degree and and engineering degree, but him and Tech shared a class and went on a few dates. When his parents found out he was dating a Coyote (Harriot and Ralph Runner are racist against predators, Coyotes specifically.) and refused to date literally any one else, they disowned him, Rev had to drop out of school and quickly learn the hard things in life. Right now he's a stay at home parent, Tech keeps encouraging him he can go back to school if he wants now that Beeper is 5 and ready for kindergarden, but he's still hemming and hawing about it.

Calamity is 7, they found a surrogate to carry Calamity and much like his father, Tech, he loves tinkering with things. Tech and Wile will often let him help them with repairing things around the house or in the shop. He says he wants to take over Wile's repair and lube when he's grown up. Calamity and lil Beeper don't really get along, they have a sibling rivalry that often times Rev or Tech have to break up a serious fight between the two. Rev is pretty sure its his parents Coyote issues that caused the rift between Beeper and Calamity.

Beeper is only 5, but shes not starting kindergarden till next year because of when her birthday falls. She was another surrogate carry, but due to her birth Rev's parents believe that Revs not nearly as loyal to Tech as he lets on. Despite Tech still being the picture and loving Beeper as much as love Calamity. Revs parents have Called CPS on them so many times due to Tech being a danger to Rev and especially to lil Beeper. They've only succeeded once in taking Beeper away, and that was from a racist CPS agent who was then thoroughly flogged thanks to the Fazbear family lawyer. (After all Predator and Prey couples gotta stick together). Beeper isn't nearly as smart as she feels she should be (She's smart though) but she doesn't tinker like Calamity does and she feels left out often when Calamity gets to tinker with their dad and Grandpa. which causes her to lash out at Calamity to get Techs attention. Not that Tech doesn't pay attention to her as well, its just not the attention she wants.

Chica Couper x Roxanne Wolf & Cassie (6)

Roxy and Chica are both members of Freddys band TBD (The glamrocks??? the Animatronics? idk I'll think of something, Fazbears??? idk) Chicas dad is still serving a heafty sentence when they adopt Cassie, and Roxannes sister Luna was only recently adopted after Roxanne got out of the system her self.

Cassie is 6 and is best friends with Gergory, they are super close, though she has been seen playing with the other girls in the neighbour hood too, often times Chica and Roxy will host sleep overs with both Beeper, Dot, and Babs. And usually the girls have a ton of fun.

Bugs Bunny x Daffy Duck & The warner bros & Warner Sister.

Bugs Bunny is a famous actor, not really retired but focusing on the three kids he adopted. Bugs is a recovering addict from "spargle" and has a secret Drag show circuit that he runs. He's one of the oldest people in the neighbor hood, still not as old as Granny or Roger though.

Daffy Duck has been many things in his life, Actor, Professor, hustler, but mostly free loader. He's basically Bug's trophy husband at this point, sugar baby might be a more accurate description, and despite the protests that they're not together Yakko, Wakko, and Dot call both of them Dad.

Yakko is the eledest at 13, he wants to be a comedian and Bugs is willing to help him get his foot in the door with his connections when hes ready, though Yakko is determined to do it on his own. Him and his high school buddies spend a lot of time at Bonnie bowl since the smaller kids have a hard time bowling. They also spend time in Monty Golf too, since most little kids find golfing boring.

Wakko, the middle kid only a year older than Dot, at 7, he's already got blood sugar issues that need to be watched constantly. He's been told being a professional eater isn't really a thing so now he wants to be a celebrity chef.

Dot is the youngest at 6, she wants to design clothes and own her own fashion brand. She hangs out with her Aunt Lexi and Lola a lot. Trying to come up with the biggest and best dresses.

Ace x Lexi Bunny & Babs and Buster

Ace is Bug's Brother, and his Stunt Double. Ace was never one to want to be in the lime light, but Bugs was always at home in the spot light. Before he was a stunt double Ace worked as a personal trainer in a gym, but they found that Bugs moved in a very specific way, and Ace was the only one who could really move close to like him.

Alexis (Lexi) Bunny was Yakkos teacher, and then she also taught gymnastics when Dot wanted to try cheerleading. Ace and Lexi got married in vegas and ended up with Lexis' cousin Babs after her parents passed away. Then her Best Friend Buster (No relation) now for some reason lives with them all the time now too. Ace and Lexi have resigned in the fact they basically have twins now. Lola is Lexi's twin sister.

Babs wants to be a director and Buster is Bug's biggest fan, wants to be a movie star just like him.

Roger and Jessica Rabbit

They owned the original land that made up the subdivision. Rabbit Acres. Roger was a movie star and Jessica a singer. They've both aged like fine wine. They'll often host neighborhood parties and let the kids come over and play in their pool (With parental supervision) they'll hold a 4th of july party and have cook outs for every major holiday, even the predators are allowed to cook meats, so long as the bunnies and birds get their meals too. Freddy and Tech are usually in charge of cooking the meat on those cook outs. Roger does the bunny meals, and Rev takes care of the bird dishes with Daffy.

Jessica and Roger never had kids of their own so they help out the people in their cul-de-sac as much as they can. Rev and Tech appreciate it the most because Revs parents aren't supportive of their relationship, but Roger and Jessica are. They treat Calamity and Beeper like their own, they even call them Nana and Poppop.

[disorganizedkitten]

This Is The Road To Ruin Chapter 2

Harry Potter | 2022 | 3,862 | Ao3 | Prev | Masterlist | Next

  4/11/87

 I had a nightmare last night. It was another one about the stone room and the people in masks. I wish I knew what it meant. I wish I understood how my Sight works.

 I think the dream has to do with why I’m here, in the muggle world, instead of home, but I still don’t understand it. If I hadn’t met Tansy, I think I would have assumed that my memories of home were imaginary - they fit into fiction ever so well. But Tansy is real, and she has magic, which means my childhood was too.

 I just wish I understood it. I wish I remembered what caused the change. Hopefully I will one day.

Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as the nightmares make it seem.

‘

 Clemencia is off at a placement, officially, but she came to Aletris’ today Freaking Out. It’s… a lot.

 Tansy, Hawthorne, Hana, and Clem all have magic. I’ve mentioned this before, because we’ve had to grow around it. I remember growing up around magic, so I knew that we weren’t… as isolated as it seems, I guess, but I didn’t expect this to be our way in. Back.

Clemencia got accepted to a Magical Secondary School. It’s called Hogwarts - they won’t tell us where it is, but the teacher who came to deliver her letter took her on a tour of what sounds like a magical mall. She’s going to take us there tomorrow; she chose to accept the acceptance/invite.

 I’m going to talk to Mrs. Calmiris tonight. Apparently, school starts at eleven, and I remember her asking me about letters around my eleventh birthday. The next year I got Hawthorne. She’s always been very calm about our magic; if she’s like me, or like Clem, I want to know. I know she’s not like Tansy, though.

 Speaking of Tansy-

***

Justin hadn’t meant to go school shopping during the apparent pre-school rush. He’d been hoping to beat it, actually, but his summer had taken a sort of nosedive when he got his letter. Not intentionally! It had just been… derailed. They’d had everything scheduled already, from ordering his textbooks to his uniform fitting. All under the impression that Justin would be attending Eton, come fall.

 Which was not going to happen.

 Instead, a week before his birthday, they’d had a guest over who informed him he’d have to spend the next seven years at a Magic School unless he wanted to become a human bomb.

 Which, obviously, he didn’t.

 The professor has offered to escort them while shopping, but Justin had been having a slight breakdown at the time, so his mother had gotten directions and gently shooed the professor out. Which lead to now, three months later, exploring the Wizarding World by way of Diagon Alley, in London. 

 Justin was sure it was going to be super cool, as soon as he could stop hating it for tearing apart his life. If he’d had more warning the change might not have been so jarring.

 He had hoped that coming to Diagon Alley would show him something cool, something to make it seem less horrid, but they’d entered through a dingy tavern that gave his parents headaches, had to get help entering the alley and were given condescending looks when they asked, and the they were greeted with less of an alley and more of a mosh pit. A magical mosh pit. Lovely.

  Justin knew he was being unfair, but he didn’t particularly care. He had to go to a school where he’d have none of his friends, because of something he had no control over. He was allowed to be bitter.

 Professor McGonagall had also failed to inform them that they’d be using an entirely different currency; luckily Dad had noticed while they were in the tavern and before they were actually trying to buy something.

 That would be embarrassing. So very embarrassing.

 Of course, then they had to hope that the bank, once they found it, offered exchange services. Thankfully, the bank was huge, visible when they entered the Alley (through a brick wall that vanished when it was tapped, which was actually pretty cool, Justin had always wanted a secret room in his closet) and bright white, so it was easy to find. Getting to the bank was another matter, as the alley was crowded, with an air of anticipation, as though they were all waiting for something big to happen. It, alongside the constant thrum of noise, put Justin on edge.

 They tried, rather unsuccessfully, to make their way through the masses, until they noticed the crowd shying away from a pair of young adults - who were also heading towards the bank. Justin grabbed his mom’s hand and followed them.

 The man called out once they had a direct line of sight, and got an enthusiastic wave back from someone much closer to the bank. The couple seemed to be hunting for friends or children in one of the few places that wasn’t packed beyond belief.

 It wasn’t until they reached the open space that he realized there were two yards of white marble steps, on which the rest of the couple’s group seemed to be waiting. And they were the only ones - everyone else seemed to go up and down the steps as fast as they could, or stay off them altogether, as though unwilling to infringe upon bank territory.

 The Finch-Fletchleys watched as their unknowing guides met up with a group of younger teenagers and one he couldn’t tell if was an adult or a child. The shortest one’s features changed as he watched, and Justin felt a giddy bit of awe bubble in his chest before his parents herded him the rest of the way into the bank.

  Shapeshifting!

 The only superpower Justin had wished more for as a child was invisibility. If he could learn to do that, this whole charade would be worth it.

 The creatures that ran the bank were a little scary, less so inside than the guards outside were, but his dad treated them just like he would the bankers at home, and the conversion was quick and painless, minus the part where they had to calculate everything in seventeens and twenty-nines, instead of tens and hundreds.

 Still, it was easy to move on, until they realized they had no clue where to go for anything. Maybe they should’ve tried to reschedule with Professor McGonagall, or at least asked for a map.

 So this wasn’t their best planned trip. It was fine. His mother had immigrated (illegally, not that it was common knowledge) and had to learn Britain and London from the ground up; thus they could too. At least it didn’t look like he’d have to learn a whole new language.

 “Perhaps the bookshop?” Justin’s dad offered hesitantly. Flourish and Blotts sounded like a stationery store, but the display was full of books, so that’s where they went.

 Thankfully, the bookshop seemed to be more organized and less busy. It also smelled like books, which was a welcome change from the sunlight-and-burnt-sparkplugs of the rest of the alley.

 They split up, giving Dad the list to find the required books while Mum and Justin went on the hunt for anything that looked acclimation-y. Cookbooks, history, Mum even grabbed two fiction novels, and they continued on in that manner for a little while. Justin grabbed all three of the etiquette books he found and promptly plopped down to skim them.

 He didn’t want to accidentally insult someone’s family line, or ask them to marry him, or call them names. He refused to be engaged before he was sixteen, at the earliest.

 “Muggleborn?”

 Justin jumped, looking up. There was a translucent person looking over his shoulder. “Um. Yes?”

 “Well, I’m glad to see you willing to learn. Have you tried Modesty and Magic, by Harold Sheppner yet?”

 Justin shook his head mutely. The… ghost? Astral projection? nodded. “You should, if you get a chance. It was my grandson’s final project for his History of Magic mastery, and while a lot of that’s gone out of style, knowing it can earn you points with some of them prissy purebloods.”

 “Yes, sir,” Justin said slowly, pretending he knew what half those words meant. He took note of the title, though, because it did sound useful. “Would I find that here?”

 “Yeah, sonny,” the man grinned. “It’s got a gold spine, in the S section. Want me to show you?”

 “Yes please.” Justin stood up, closing his current book around a finger. “What’s your name?”

 “Geronimo Harvester,” he said with sly grin. “Halfblood, if you were wondering.”

 Justin was not, but he’d take note of it anyway.

 Harvester turned out to be a great guide; Justin’s earlier guess was right, he was a ghost, and he’d been haunting Flourish and Blotts for around seventy years. He helped customers find their books when they weren’t being rowdy, but he was a bit of an open secret in the shop.

 “Necromancy is one of those magics people ain’t that fond of,” Harvester explained, pulling out a book on The Legality Of Tabooed Magics Throughout The 19th and 20th Centuries. “Not that I’m too much necromanced, but we ghosts ain’t supposed to be able to touch stuff. Can’t say I remember the whole reason, but people who die steeped in Dark Magicks tend to have a stronger presence if we stick around. ‘s why they don’t use the Death Penalty in the Magical World.”

 That was… slightly horrifying but good to know.

***

 Leonie had read through nearly an entire cookbook when she realized she’d lost Justin. He hadn’t wandered too far, and since the crowds outside had stayed outside, he was easy to find. Once she found him and they finalized their haul, they set out to find Caleb

 He was at the checkout desk, conveniently finishing at the same time. She leaned forward to kiss her husband and hand him their plethora of extra books.

 He hummed into it. “All done?”

 “Yeah,” she confirmed. “I do love these baskets.” They had to be enchanted somehow, with how many books she and Justin found, but once the books were inside it didn’t seem like they weighed much more than a single textbook, which, while a lot, wasn’t nearly as much as twenty should weigh. Her shoulders heartily appreciated the lack of strain.

 Caleb hummed in agreement, brushing noses, before turning to Justin. “Find anything cool?”

 “I found a book on something called blood magic, and the first three chapters look like an overview of various legal, illegal, and once-legal magics and why they’re considered such. It’s partnered with a book detailing the topic for the past two hundred years. It sounds interesting!”

 He sounded happy. Leonie smiled proudly at him, some of the guilt from this summer dissipating. She hadn’t helped him accept his fate as a wizard, griping about how many things had to change, and how she’d have to lie to her cousins, and every other thing she could, until their older son came and asked what they’d done to convince Justin he was cursed and should’ve drowned that time at Lake Windermere.

 It was a horrifying conversation.

 She’d been very careful to be as positive as she could be since, even though many of the obvious enchantments sent her head spinning and the people were rude and it had become very obvious humans were not the only human-adjacent species out there.

 That last one was not as much of a surprise, but she would admit she’d mostly blocked out those memories as a child’s overactive imagination and underdeveloped brain.

 After the bookshop they went to clothes, which was… a thing. Leonie’s fashion sense consisted of ‘is the texture okay’ and ‘does my daughter laugh at me’, so she was definitely no use there, but it looked halfway similar to their own with flowing regenmantels (robes, probably, but why fix what isn’t broke) thrown over the top, or occasionally worn alone, as she would a dress.

 They also seemed to do a lot with embroidery and ‘runic enchantments’ on the clothes themselves, something that she found thrilling. It made them shiny!

 Justin laughed at her, but it was fond and he was finally smiling, so she had no regrets.

 Of course, then they managed to get dragged down a branch off, first by stepping in as it was another of those places that most of the crowd avoided, and then further when Justin saw a shop called The Cloak and Decoy and practically dashed to it, expecting… well she wasn’t sure, but he must have thought that it sounded very cool.

 Leonie felt her heart slow and then speed up again as they ventured deeper into the branch off. It felt distinctly similar to when they had to visit gang controlled areas. Still, they weren’t attacked on their way in, just eyed like prey.

 They probably seemed like it, so obviously unsure. Except Justin, because he was eleven and finally enjoying magic and didn’t have the experience Caleb and Leonie had to smell danger.

 That was why Leonie didn’t pull him back, as much as she wanted to. 

***

 Justin pushed open the door to the cloak shop and nearly stepped right back out. Unlike the one they found earlier, where they purchased only what was on the list because they weren’t sure what else would be useful, this shop’s lighting was pale white, giving off a heady, psychedelic feeling of being in-between worlds.

 More odd and unsettling, though, was the sudden chill, the smell of frozen metal sharper than that of fresh snowfall.

  Despite that, Justin persevered.

 His parents followed him in, and he split off to look around. Despite the lighting being dim enough to give him a headache, it illuminated the cloaks rather well. And boy was he glad they hadn’t gotten anything extra earlier. These cloaks were beautiful.

 Some of them were made out of materials he couldn’t recognize, thick furs and silvery leather and some fabrics that looked like they were cut out of a star. Dual layers, single layers, reversible, one even could adjust the length, operating as a cloak, a caplet, or a scarf.

 This was so cool! How many times had Justin wished he didn’t have to lug around a coat during winter events?

 “Mom, come look at this!”

 She did. They were discussing it (and the concerning note that said it could be enchanted with a command word if someone needed to be ‘eliminated’) when the door opened again, a familiar gaggle making their way inside.

 “Oh, it’s you!”

“As close to in the flesh as I can be,” one of the young women said brightly. Somehow, her presence seemed to make the room’s temperature fluctuate uncomfortably.

 Justin wondered if the theory behind keeping Cloak and Decoy so cold was that people would want to buy cloaks, even in the summer heat. If so, it was clever.

 "Yes well," the man behind the counter said, turning to duck into the back room. "I know your cloaks haven't worn out already, why the menagerie?"

 "But Gordan, we're not animals," said one of the teenagers, the one with blue tips, moving forward to drape herself dramatically over the counter. "We're flowers."

 "Of course," he called back indulgently. He was humoring them. "Why bring the greenhouse, then?"

 The older half of the group laughed.

 "Do you remember last year?” The blond young man asked, darkly amused.

 The proprietor reemerged, a mannequin and cloak floating behind him. “I suppose we don’t want a repeat, no.” With a flick of his wrist, and likely the wand held loosely in his hand, the mannequin landed in the middle of an aisle and the cloak settled prettily on top of it.

 “Alright, Florine, have at it, I think I’ve figured out the enchantments,” said Gordan.

 Florine, (Justin assumed the name went to the one with the most rapport - ad who responded) hummed doubtfully, looking at the seemingly expensive fabric. “You do know it’s going to be destroyed if you’re wrong, right?”

  Gordan shrugged. “And if I’m right, it proves I’m using the right materials.”

 “Almost,” hummed the other woman, with dark skin, darker eyes, and a ponytail. “It’ll only last one use.”

 Florine’s head snapped around so fast Justin thought he’d seen her neck vanish. “Oh really?” The slow, creeping smile that accompanied the words was the most unsettling thing they’d seen yet. Frankly, Justin didn’t hate it.

 Magic came with monsters. The question was what kind of monsters they were.

 Florine stepped forward, leaning as though she was going to do a flip, and then there was no woman, only an oppressive cloud of smoke. It started from her feet and pulled the rest of her body into nothingness, and whipped out at the cloak so fast mum shrieked beside him. Thankfully, it seemed to be largely drowned out in the cheers of the other kids.

 A moment later, the smoke meandered back their way and turned back into a girl.

 The mannequin had been reduced to dust, but there were fabric scraps left.

 "Holy crap, it survived," muttered one of the younger girls.

 "That's impressive," said the boy, moving to inspect it.

 Justin stepped closer to the ruins, accidentally falling in line with the shapeshifter.

 "Won't stand up against a second go," said Florine from behind them. "But, congratulations, Gordan."

 There was a sigh. "You still obliterated the mannequin. That doesn't say good things about the wearer’s chances of survival."

 "You can figure out the design once you have a working ward,” said the smoke girl, unconcerned.

 “That was awesome,” Justin said, crouching to look closer at the rubble. It felt like leaning into a commercial freezer, so cold it burned. He didn’t touch. “Do they teach that at Hogwarts?”

 “No,” said the boy beside him. “Florine’s self taught.”

 “You can do that?” If he could be self taught, maybe he could still go to secondary school with his friends.

 “It’s not advised,” said Blue Tips, dipping her fingers into the remains of the mannequin. She slid them lightly through the dust before yanking them back with a muttered swear. She pulled them up and made a face. “Ouch. If you’re eligible, everyone wants you at an actual school.” She wiped her fingers off on her pants and then stuck them in her mouth.

 “Oh.” Justin’s heart sank. “Why?”

 “Something about proper growth of a magical core. Florine’s exempt because hers is pretty damaged.”

 “Oh.” Justin paused. He wondered what that meant, what a magical core even was, and if it was rude to call what must be a chronic illness or disability cool. “I’m sorry.”

 “Thank you,” said the shapeshifter, standing from his crouch but still leaning down. “Anyway. I’m Harry, nice to meet you.”

 “Justin,” he returned, taking the chimera handshake-hand-up. “You too.”

 “Justin, we’re ready to go, honey!”

 He glanced at his mum, who had apparently decided to buy the size-changing cloak. Awesome. “Coming!” He turned to Harry. “See you around?”

 “First year starts on September first,” Harry returned with a grin and a peace sign.

 Justin’s smile widened. Maybe Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad.

***

 Caleb listened with a soft sense of foreboding as the man behind the counter of the Cloak and Decoy explained how the murder aspect of the cloak they’d just bought their son worked. He chose the code phrase option, and had it ‘keyed’ so it only activated if Justin himself said it. The last thing he wanted or needed was for Justin to accidentally strangle himself with magical tech they didn’t think through.

 Caleb had considered asking Mr. Gordan to leave it off. But they didn’t know what awaited their son in his new world, they’d just seen a girl turn into some sort of shadow monster, and Caleb did not doubt in the slightest that Wizards’ very wands were more dangerous than a loaded gun in the hands of someone with a grudge. He didn’t think a switchblade would work in this instance, thus Justin got the assassin cloak.

 He’d tell Justin about it when they got home. And inform him to never say “Loki would stab Merlin with excalibur for the fun of it.”

 He asked about the legality and how traceable it would be if the cloak did kill someone, and finally saw a glimmer of acceptance in those muddy eyes. They’d definitely walked into the magical version of the black market. Or mafia. Lovely.

 When they’d finally ushered themselves out, Justin carrying the folded cloak while Caleb took the books and Leonie held the clothing bags, it was nearly noon.

 “What next?” Caleb asked.

 “Drop these in the car?” Justin offered. It was a good idea, they wouldn’t be able to carry much more and anyway, lugging around this much shopping was already tiring. Caleb wondered how the wizarding folk stood it - did they levitate everything? He’d certainly seen plenty of floating objects in the main alley.

 Leonie stopped at the edge, looking at the crowd that seemed to refuse to so much as brush the side alley they were in. She was still carrying their clothes purchases, in a little themed bag that didn’t seem nearly big enough. Caleb hoped it wasn’t this busy everyday - how many wixen could there be in Britain anyway?

 “Aw,” said a voice that sent chills down Caleb’s back. He’d thought they’d done well enough at acting as though they belonged to keep anyone unsavory away. He shifted closer to Justin. “If you don’t want to brave the crowd of big bad wizards you could come join us for a game.”

 “I’m afraid we don’t have time, as much as we appreciate the invitation,” murmured his wonderful wife, turning as well.

 The old woman with galaxies behind her eye pouted. “I’m sure you could make time.” her other eye was scabbed shut, gray skin stretching over the socket in a hollow way.

 “Echo, don’t be an ungracious host.”

 Caleb didn’t jump at the extra voice, but it was a close thing. The smoke woman from the Cloak and Decoy walked up, unhurried, but the old woman backed away slightly. “What’s ungracious about inviting them to experience the magical world?”

 Smoke didn’t say anything, just tilted her head slightly. Apparently, that was enough of a threat. ‘Echo’ backed away with a side comment about how they’re welcome at any time, should they change their minds.

 “Sorry about that,” the shadow witch said, turning a much kinder smile on them. “Are you okay?”

 Justin nodded, slipping between him and Leonie. “Yeah, thanks. I’m Justin Finch-Fletchley.”

 “Florine Dupont,” she said, shaking the offered hand.

 Justin pulled his back a little fast, just enough for Caleb to worry. Still, he and Leonie introduced themselves as well. Caleb quickly learned why Justin’s handshake was too fast - her skin felt like frozen chicken on bare skin. The intrusive thought that flesh was technically raw meat was entirely unwelcome. Still, he smiled at her. “Caleb Finch-Fletchley, it’s nice to meet you.”

[avatar-anna]

The Professor

summary: you and harry are perfect strangers

words: 2.5k

tw: none

quick note: this takes place in the current world, but doesn't exactly follow the exact sequence of events as they happened!

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V Series Masterlist

March 2021

Nothing in your life was particularly meritorious, at least to the general public. All your life, you'd been praised for being exceptional, but you never asked to be. You just wanted to live your life in peace, doing what you loved and helping those in unique ways. One day one of your students just happened to get it on film. 

You weren’t from England, but you moved there about three years ago to teach forensic, criminal, and behavioral psychology at the University of Cambridge. When students walked into your classroom on the first day of school, they would give you “the look.” It was one you received all your life, the one that said people thought you couldn’t be quite so young and be where you were—collegiate level lecture halls, research labs, touring apartments by yourself, buying wine at a grocery store—and yet, there you stood. You never let the look get to you, though. For you, learning was the top priority, whether students or colleagues underestimated you wasn’t your problem, it was theirs.

As time went on, though, you managed to establish something of a reputation at Cambridge. You were known among students as a favorite professor, one that was hard but fair, and someone who was able to explain the material to any student, no matter what their academic history or learning disabilities might have suggested. You became known for your well-taught and interactive classes, office hours that were worth attending, and a last few minutes of class where you let students ask you whatever they wanted—if they stumped you, you gave them extra credit, if they didn’t, no extra credit. The game was supposed to be a way for students to get to know you better, and to lighten up your classes a bit. You loved to learn, and you wanted your students to enjoy it as much as you did. 

It became a popular facet of your classes, students raising their hands and asking questions about theoretical probabilities, quantum physics, what constellations you would find on the opposite hemisphere, or if you could quote a specific line from one of Shakespeare’s poems. You were hardly ever beat, but that just made your students try harder.

Soon enough, students started to film you and post the videos online. You didn’t know what app or what social media platform that was being used, seeing as you had no social media accounts of your own, but you were assured that no one was making fun of you. In fact, it was quite the opposite. People from all over started submitting questions to see if they could best you. 

Losing this game was a very rare occurrence, so much so that you hung up a bell in your lecture hall and let the student who posed a question ring it when you couldn’t come up with an answer. If your class got to ring the bell ten times, you’d take the class out for drinks. The bell was hardly ever rung, though, until one day, you picked on a girl who asked one simple question.

“Can you name a Harry Styles song?”

You’d blinked, not at all expecting that question. Popular culture questions came up every now and then, but students mostly asked you about stuff relating to math or history or science, wanting to know just how deep your well of knowledge was. But this question left your mind utterly blank, something that was almost as rare as not getting a question right. 

“I—I don’t know who that is,” you said, unable to come up with an answer. 

The whole classroom cheered, the first win of the term, and you sent everyone home or off to their next class with the promise to the young woman that you would make sure to give her extra credit on her next assignment.

According to your students, you became known online as the professor who, "knew everything except who the most popular man on the planet was." That didn't really bother you, though, and when you were asked about it, you merely said, "I don't know everything, actually. Sometimes I wish I did, but I don't." That was the end of that, and celebrities were soon left behind.

Then the pandemic happened.

You still had to teach, but even you noticed that online learning in the middle of a global pandemic was less than fun. You tried your best to keep your students engaged, still agreeing to your question and answer game, and ringing a bell for them whenever they got it right.

That’s when students convinced you to get social media. Before lockdown, all you had was your school email address and an old Facebook profile you rarely used, but one of your students claimed that a portion of the Internet liked learning from you, and that after your answer about Harry Styles, your “fanbase,” the student called it, only doubled. 

You told your students you’d think about it, but ultimately decided that you weren’t going to. While you appreciated all the benefits of technology, it wasn't really for you. But one day you came across an article about how students of all ages felt like they weren’t actually learning while in quarantine, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you should do something about it, that you could do something about it. So you looked up all the proper equipment, ordered it online, and suddenly you were posting videos of yourself teaching multiple subjects on YouTube, enlisting the help of one of your former students to do the editing and the posting, not really sure what would be interesting or “cool” for viewers. 

A following started to build as lockdown continued, and you came to love uploading your videos, if only because it made you happy that you could help more people learn. You were someone who constantly needed an activity to occupy your mind, and filming was a perfect addition to your stay-at-home schedule. You'd mastered entry-level coding, complex cross-stitching, and played multiple games of chess against your cat (who was an excellent opponent). Filming online educational videos seemed like the perfect pastime.

It wasn’t really about popularity or views or notoriety for you, you just wanted to teach, but apparently you had gained almost two million subscribers since your first video. When the world started to open up again and you were allowed back into the classroom with a mask mandate and a hybrid schedule of online and in-person classes, you thought about ending the videos, but the student who edited them for you—who you began to pay once you realized it was something of a full time job for them—convinced you to keep filming. “You could even record some of your lectures and post those,” they’d said, so you kept uploading. 

Life had somewhat returned to normal, though now on top of teaching in your lecture hall, you were also still teaching online and filming videos about math and science and any other subjects you could think of. It was a lot of work. At least, it was a lot of work for the average person. But you drank coffee like it was water and had a minor case of insomnia, so there were more than enough hours in the day to get everything done.

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

Free time wasn’t something you knew very well, but you always made time for rare first editions. 

You had an acquaintance at an old bookstore close to Cambridge’s campus, and they emailed you saying they were being lent Shakespeare’s first folio and wanted to know if you wanted to see it before they had to put it in the glass display case for the other bookstore guests. You immediately jumped on the chance, buzzing with excitement during all of your lectures on the day you were meant to go.

You got to the bookstore early, so early that the shopkeeper told you it hadn’t arrived yet. So you browsed the shelves until you were called to the back, trying to find something that caught your eye. And you did, it just wasn’t on a bookshelf.

“‘The dawn is my Assyria; the sunset and moonrise my paphos, and unimaginable realms of faerie; broad noon shall be my England of the senses and the understanding; the night shall be my Germany of mystic philosophy and dreams.’”

The man holding the book of poems looked to where you were standing, a perplexed look on his face. “That’s—”

“Nature by Emerson. Chapter three,” you supplied, unable to help yourself. You never tried to come off as arrogant for knowing as much as you did. Knowledge just excited you so much that sometimes it came pouring out of you.

Sometimes people didn’t like being shown up. As a child, your teachers and classmates would find your intelligence and penchant for reciting material that should’ve been much too advanced for your age annoying. But this man didn’t seem to mind, though it was hard to tell with the mask covering half his face.

He flipped through the book before landing on a random page. “Chapter seven, page seventy-three. The line that comes after, ‘to pure spirit, it is fluid, it is volatile, it is obedient.’”

Grinning, you spoke without missing a beat. “‘Every spirit builds itself a house, and beyond its house, a world, and beyond its world a heaven. Know then, that the world exists for you, build, therefore, your own world.’”

His eyes crinkled, and you took that to mean he was smiling, which made something unfamiliar flutter in your stomach. He had nice eyes, you thought. A pretty shade of jade green framed by thick eyelashes.

“Impressive,” he said. “Do you have a photographic memory or something?”

“Or something,” you replied. You had an eidetic memory, a sky high IQ, and a brain that constantly wanted more knowledge. Mix that with ambitious parents and you had three PhDs and four degrees with a fifth one on the way. It was easier not to go into it, though, so you kept your career to yourself. 

While your mind was stellar, your communication skills outside of the classroom were not. And once you realized you didn’t have anything else to contribute, you slowly backed away. “Well, happy reading.”

“Hold on,” the man said before you could get too far. “Do you have any recommendations? I’m trying to get back into reading.”

Get back into reading? You would never know what that was like. There was never a moment where you didn’t have at least one book on your person. Biographies, novels, essay collections, it didn’t matter. Reading was your first and only love. Well, except for your cat. Reading was your first and only inanimate love.

“Y/n, it’s here!” the shopkeeper called.

The man looked at you curiously, and you were stuck between leaving him behind and getting a book for him. That could take forever, though! You didn’t know what this person liked or what he was looking for. He had Emerson in his hands, but that didn’t really help you understand his taste. A classic? No, that would be too obvious. Maybe a play? It was a good option, and it would certainly be quicker than a novel.

Your mind sifted through titles and authors and genres, trying to find one that stuck out. It snagged on a title, and you were suddenly saying, “Uh…Wait here.”

Moving through the stacks, you went to the shelf you’d visited a month ago when you happened upon this book. You grabbed your copy and rushed back over to where the man was still waiting.

“I read this last month,” you said, handing the book over. It had all your notes and annotations in it, as you were the only person at this bookstore that got to rent books. 

You came so frequently that the shopkeeper made a deal with you—a flat rate once a month for as many books as you wanted. Since your library at home was already quite extensive, you took him up on it, and you’d been renting ever since. Sometimes if you really liked a book, you’d purchase it, but most times you returned it, more often than not with your notes in the margins.

“On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” the man said, reading the title off the cover.  “Alright, I’ll check it out.”

You didn’t wait around to see if he actually would. With a small wave, you were off, ready to get your hands—gloved, obviously—on a precious artifact.

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

A few weeks later and you were running late to your lecture. In your short teaching career, you’d never been late before. You were almost always early, occasionally on time, but never late. But just as you were leaving, you received a phone call from the police department.

Since you had a doctorate in forensic and criminal psychology and a degree in behavioral psychology, you often offered assistance on certain cases. Nothing like what might be seen on television, but you did read through case files and pinpoint things that were inconsistent or odd, looked at letters and notes to break down linguistics in the hopes that it would give something away, and looked at crime scene photos and provided any kind of knowledge that was stored inside your brain. You didn’t have a badge, and you didn’t go out into the field, but you did what you could. Another thing to keep you busy.

You were asked to look at another case file, which gave you an idea. Honestly, you were shocked you’d never thought of it before.

“This week we’re solving a murder.”

Everyone in your classroom had been chatting quietly, some playfully teasing you for being late to your lecture, until then. Some eyes were wide like they’d just been told you were giving the final today, others looked eager to apply what they’d learned.

You passed out the copies of the old case you got permission from the police department to use, explaining the rules as everyone got a packet. “Starting today, everyone will be getting into groups of three. You will attempt to solve a case from the seventies, using evidence from the case as it was collected. Everything you need is in the file, but I’ve labeled them to designate which day you should open each file. If you pay close attention, you should be able to solve this case quicker than the police did back then. Please do not skip ahead or look up this case online, this assignment is not being graded as such, but it will be an assessment of how much you’ve learned so far and what areas I need to go over more. I will expect a report from your group by the end of the week that details your findings, your process for solving the case, and of course, who did it and why you think so. Sound good?”

“Will you be taking part in the assignment?” one of your students asked.

You considered his question. “I hadn’t thought about it, but sure. I’m ending class early today because I really want you to use this time to focus on the assignment. You can use the classroom if you’d like, but if you are leaving, please let me know your groups beforehand. Have a good day, y’all.”

Nearly everyone left after that, but some groups stayed to work in the lecture hall or ask questions. Once everyone was taken care of, you left the room while flipping through your own case file, but it wasn’t the one you assigned to your class. Your eyes quickly scanned the new file given to you by the lead detective on the case, turning page after page as you looked at preliminary findings, autopsy reports, and possible suspects. Reading at a rapid pace was both a gift and an asset to you, it was what got you so many degrees and such a full library at home.

Unfortunately, sometimes your reading consumed you, and as you were walking and turning to the next page, you bumped into someone.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” you said, trying to catch your papers before they could fly away. Not only were they important, but they weren’t supposed to be read by the general public.

So focused on trying to put your file back together, you didn’t even notice who you bumped into, or that they had crouched down next to you to help. But then a hand rested on your arm and you froze. “It’s alright. I wasn’t looking either, to be fair.”

Your ears perked. Your excellent memory stemmed mostly from sight, but you remembered sound quite well too. You knew that voice.

Looking up, you saw the man from the bookstore. His face was covered up again, but his eyes were now covered by a pair of large black sunglasses as well, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head, but not enough to cover a small tuft of hair that was clipped together. He didn’t seem to show any signs of remembering you, though, so you didn’t mention your previous encounter.

The man tried to offer you a hand to help you up, but you didn’t take it, for no other reason than restricting the spread of germs. You were always conscious of viral infections and catching things from strangers, but the pandemic made you more paranoid, and now you had a hard time just shaking hands with people.

“Woah,” he said, looking over one of the papers he helped you retrieve before handing it back to you. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” you said matter of factly.

Some people didn’t like your bluntness, but he seemed to take it in stride. “Are you a detective or something?”

“...Or something.”

He took off his sunglasses to look you in the eye. “Or something,” he repeated. “You’re just full of mysteries, aren’t you?”

So he did remember you. “Not really. I just consult for the police department from time to time.”

“This is labeled as a series of murders. Possibly serial,” he said, perplexed by your casual tone. 

“It probably is, that’s why I’m consulting,” you said. “But you’re not really supposed to see that, so if I could just get those back, please.”

You reached your hand out for the papers, but he held them just out of reach. “Hold on, now I’m really curious. Where are you headed?”

“Home. Why?”

“I want to know more about what you do. I promise I won’t look at these,” he said, waving the remaining papers in his hand. “And I want to discuss the book you recommended.”

“You read it?” you asked, completely forgetting about part of the case file that was being held hostage.

“Of course. Maybe we could get coffee somewhere? I understand if you don’t want to invite me into your home.”

“It would probably be safer,” you agreed.

His eyes were crinkling, which made you think he was smiling behind his mask. “Because I could be a suspect?”

“What? No, I know it’s not you.”

“I know I shouldn’t be offended, but you wrote me off so quickly,” he joked, but you could tell he wasn’t actually hurt. If he was, it definitely would’ve been a red flag.

You shrugged, reaching your hand out. “You don’t fit the profile.”

“Ah. Right,” he agreed, though you were pretty sure he had no idea what you were talking about. “So, what do you say? Coffee?”

“Well…” You really needed to get home and work on this case. You already had some thoughts about it that would be helpful, and you didn’t want to chance losing parts of the file like you’d nearly just done now. “This is kind of time sensitive.”

“I understand,” the man said, and did you detect a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice? “Can I at least walk you back to your place and we can talk as we go? I promise I’m not a stalker or a murderer or anything. I just really liked the book and need someone to discuss it with.”

Even if he was a stalker or a serial killer, which you didn’t think he was, you had a black belt in two forms of martial arts, so you’d be more than capable of getting away, or at least doing some damage, but you didn’t tell him that. “Sure. I guess that’s okay.”

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

You ended up inviting him into your home. Both of you had so much to say about the book you read, and by the time you made it to your front door, you were only halfway through your recommendation list, so you asked if he wanted to come inside so you could write them all down. He took you up on the offer, holding the door open for you after you unlocked it. He kept his mask on, and didn’t question you when you asked him to wash his hands and slide surgical booties over his shoes. Though things were slowly, very slowly, going back to normal in Cambridge, the virus was still spreading, and you weren’t taking any chances. 

“Sorry about the mess, I was in a bit of a rush this morning.”

“I’m not sure you would classify this as ‘mess,’” he replied, his green eyes wide as he took in the main room of your townhouse. There were books everywhere—on large bookshelves, stacked on top of each other next to the bookshelves, on your antique coffee table, and underneath lampstands. The shopkeeper’s deal to rent his books really came in handy, you were running out of space to put them.

While he browsed your bookshelf, you cleaned up your kitchen, putting aways the stray cup and plate you had to leave on your kitchen table this morning to rush to the police station. It wasn’t like you to leave dishes out like that, but you didn’t have the time to clean up after yourself. Now that everything was put away, you could rest a bit easier.

Once everything was cleaned up, you pulled your laptop out of your backpack and began drafting an email. When you invited him inside, you told him that you had to send it before you sat down to discuss anything else. Lives were literally at stake, that had to come first even when a cute stranger wanted to pick apart your brain about your favorite books.

Cute? Was he cute? You’d only seen the top half of his face, but your stomach fluttered more intensely anytime his eyes crinkled at something you said on the walk to your house, and he seemed to have a nice physique beneath his baggy sweatshirt. Objectively speaking, he was attractive, but looks were never something that attracted you to someone. You liked relationships of the mind. Someone who at least tried to be interested in the things that you were. It didn’t happen often, but this stranger seemed to hang on your every word, and that made your heart beat faster more than anything else.

Shaking your head, you focused on the email you had to send. Once it was drafted, edited, and looked over twice, you sent it, hoping that you’d done your part to better society.

The stranger looked your way when you joined him in the main room. His hands were behind his back and his shoulders slightly hunched as he inspected a shelf that was somewhat shorter than him. 

“You have a pretty diverse collection,” he said.

“Thank you. I like to hunt for rare first editions and signed copies when I can,” you said, joining him by one of your bookshelves. “You can take one off the shelf if you’d like.”

Never had anyone been so interested in your collection before, and it made you want to share with him even more. Not once had he judged you for having so many books or for your tastes or what was clearly an obsession. He just wanted to know more, and you could never turn down an opportunity to share knowledge.

“Not a lot of poetry,” he said absentmindedly, his eyes still scanning the shelves. 

“It’s not my favorite. Why? Do you like poetry?”

He shrugged. “As much as the next person, I suppose.”

Before you could reply or show him your beloved American classics, your cat softly padded across the floor and twirled himself around the stranger’s legs.

“And who might you be?” he asked, eyes wide, but not repulsed. It occurred to you then that you probably should’ve warned him about your cat in case he had allergies, but by the way he reached down to pet him, you didn’t think there were any sprouting problems. 

“That’s the Emperor,” you said, picking up your cat. 

“The Emperor? Like in Star Wars?”

“No, his full name is Emperor Trajan, my favorite of the Roman Emperors. But I usually just call him the Emperor so that people can associate him with whomever they want.”

He tilted his head at you. “You have a favorite Roman Emperor?”

“Mmhm. I went through a Roman antiquity phase last year.”

You were worried that you shared too much, revealed too much. Your students knew how much knowledge you had about almost everything, but there was a barrier between you and them. This person in front of you willingly came into your home to see your collection of books and to talk to you more, but what if you weren’t what he was expecting? 

“Sorry, that probably sounded weird,” you blurted, hugging your cat a little tighter to your chest.

“Don’t be sorry. No one should have to apologize for their interests,” he said, and though your first thought was to not believe him, you felt he was being sincere.

“Well, I think the guy who murdered a bunch of people should apologize for his interests,” you said, referring to your case file. He blinked at you, and your eyes widened. “That was a joke!”

You were afraid that your dry sense of humor was going to be the thing to really send him packing. Perhaps it wasn’t funny to joke about those things, but you found it necessary sometimes in order to deal with reading and looking at some of the horrible crimes people committed. 

And then he did the strangest thing. He laughed. You were so surprised, that you let out a small laugh of your own.

Reaching out, he scratched the Emperor behind his ears. “So, tell me more about this Emperor Trajan, and why he should be my favorite too.”

[myryathedreamer]

2 + 15 (protože jsem zvědavá!) + 4 for the history ask game?

History ask set

2. What is your country most famous for in history? My first instinct is to say being a victim of the Munich Agreement (or being a victim in general lol) or the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich. But then I remembered the Christmas carol Good King Wenceslaus is supposedly based on Bohemian duke Saint Wenceslaus, so I'm gonna go with that. Also the battle of Austerlitz took place in present-day Czechia and any Napoleon nerd gotta know that one.

15. Were the history classes teached in an interesting way in your school/ college/ university? What would you do to improve them if you were the teacher / lecturer? In highschool it was a mixed bag. We had multiple teachers throughout the years. First one was focused on the dry theory, but he had good powerpoint presentations (those are always important) and iirc he liked to make interesting exam questions - like "Based on when they lived, could these two historical figures have met?" The second one loved to sprinkle in historical anecdotes (like the fact that one French prince was killed in the streets of Paris by a wild hog) and was overall a great narrator (he is a tour guide for Czech tourists in France as a second job), but I'll never forgivehim for the way he graded me on one particular exam. The last one had some great one-liners ("I've taken the first step in grading your exam papers: I found them.") and loved to add some personal stories when talking about the modern history. I was picked to dance with him on our maturita ball and he smelled of cologne and cigarettes, so that's a few points down, but overall a cool guy. I study archivistics and medieaval latin, so pretty much all of my classes are history-ajacent. I have to highlight one of my History of Administration professors, who had a great way with words and would always spend the latter third of a class talking about a historical scandal or something from every-day life. Another cool one was my Bohemian Medieval History professor, who had a very captivating way of speaking, loved to sprinkle in some jokes and had good powerpoint presentations (yes, that is very important to me). And last but not least my Epigraphy professor was pretty much the biggest expert in his field and it showed tremendously (also for this class I got to make epigraphic descriptions of 15th century tombstones which to this day remains the coolest thing I've ever done for class).

4. My bachelor thesis is focused on 14th century charters from one monastery, so right now that's the era I think about the most. Other than that I have to go with 15th century, because that's the era my theatrical swordfighting group focuses on. Also the journal of Václav Šašek z Bířkova I read for one class was a pretty good read.

[sparsilemuses]

current test muses for @sparsilelove as of mid-may!

face claims featured: archie renaux, ben barnes, brenton thwaites, charlie hunnam, darren barnet, frank grillo, joshua bassett, marisa tomei, mason gooding, riz ahmed, rudy pankow, sarah michelle gellar, tom hardy.

//

these are organised roughly by how much i'm itching to play them!! most muses have at minimum a slice of life and a genre (supernatural, sci-fi, horror, etc) verse. the first verse listed is their main / default and any others are alternates / by request.

i am open to all kinds of plots, though as ever my preference is romantic connections! currently only looking to ship with men because i'm too gay to function. the ideas listed are just some starting points.

kamran mustafa (riz ahmed) is a softhearted, hardheaded man of the people ⇾ slice of life: formerly homeless, now running an unofficial halfway house in the poorest part of a city, he's all about grassroots action and giving everything he's got to those in need ⇾ dystopian future: an important figure in the rebellion against the elitist powers that be, often throwing himself directly into harm's way for the good of others & ideas: friends to lovers with another grungy weirdo, opposites attract with some corporate dbag

orion kemper (joshua bassett) is a cocky genius with too much money and zero self-restraint ⇾ slice of life: after graduating high school at 14 & college at 18, ri sold an app for a stupid amount of money and has spent the last 4 years dicking around ⇾ supernatural: born werewolf with a permanent sneer at bitten wolves, set to inherit alpha status of his family pack one day (if he doesn't get himself killed first) & ideas: friends to inappropriately cuddle, older men for him to top, someone unimpressed with him

lysander crawshaw (archie renaux) is jaded, paranoid proof that curiosity killed the cat ⇾ supernatural: still recovering from being possessed by belias, a greater demon, lys struggles with the lines between reality, dream and hallucination ⇾ slice of life: raised in a cult, lys brings with him a truckload of trauma, a sprinkling of self-hatred, and a dollop of dang adorable & ideas: someone who is his anchor to reality, someone with a similar experience, someone he can start over with

tiberius cooper (rudy pankow) is brash and loud, but in a cornered animal kind of a way ⇾ horror i: the "final girl" of a group of friends (including his twin brother) who were targeted by a serial killer while on vacation, tib sleeps sitting up holding a knife ⇾ horror ii: after his identical twin brother livestreamed a string of violent crimes (think 'spree'), tib has all but become a recluse for his own safety ⇾ slice of life: having never really recovered from the sudden death of his twin brother, tib covers up his debilitating anxiety by being the most obnoxious guy in the room & ideas: someone who knew him before everything (esp. exes of his twin), someone from a support group, some morbid weirdo who is drawn to the darkness in him now

elliot hawthorne (charlie hunnam) is a soft, sweet nerd who loves to take care of people ⇾ slice of life: a film professor who was recently dumped after five years with his ex, ell's students have been complaining lately that they'd like to watch something other than dardenne brothers movies, thanks & ideas: student or former student, friend who always thought he could do better than his ex, co-worker

beatrix calhoun (marisa tomei) is a trainwreck in motion, barely keeping up appearances ⇾ celebrity: a well-known musician who has been active since her early twenties, beatrix is still in love with songwriting and touring, leaving no room for anything else ⇾ slice of life: an artist who manages to charm the pants (often literally) off various wealthy / connected people to keep her afloat & ideas: fan, young musician who looks up to her, touring band member, ex who is also in the industry, producer, step-son, kid's friend

dandelion corrigan (tom hardy) is a cynical witch who believes his family is cursed ⇾ supernatural: an actual witch, with an actual curse, piecing together an existence in the woods making herbal remedies and mild infatuation potions for the locals ⇾ slice of life: an oddball from a pagan-ish family who makes his living selling things from his little farm & making ointmints, certain he'll never be happy & ideas: let's break this curse yo

ava blake (sarah michelle gellar) is an enigma at best and a nuisance at worst ⇾ espionage: a well-trained assassin / spy, ava has discovered a nefarious plot within her organisation that is no good very bad ⇾ slice of life: a single mom very much inspired by lorelai gilmore, ava runs a cafe / bakery / bookstore called the nook and has no time for your nonsense & ideas: rival spy / double agent, normal guy caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, another single parent

athanasios wilde (ben barnes) is very, very bored, to the point of insanity ⇾ supernatural: an immortal shapeshifter, ath's lived hundreds of lives in hundreds of bodies ⇾ crime: a significant general in his father's crime family, ath is a particularly unsettling kind of ruthless & ideas: another cursed immortal or someone seeking to become immortal, unsuspecting normie drawn into his bullshit

peregrine talbot (brenton thwaites) is extremely polite, but probably making fun of you ⇾ supernatural: a fae prince, beholden to the 'seelies can't lie' rule, perry is fascinated by mortals, occasionally living among them ⇾ slice of life: trust fund kid with a scholar's mind, perry is actually nice, as long as you don't interrupt him & ideas: mortal who falls into the fae realm, supernatural creature who needs his help, classmate from college, friend from the wrong side of the tracks

taliesin rafferty (darren barnet) is me proving trans guys can be fuckboy dbags too ⇾ slice of life: tal vibes are scrolling grindr while he's on a date with you, sneaking out while you're in the shower, pretending to forget your name so you don't get attached & ideas: best friends with feelings, the guy who sees through his bullshit, the guy he chases long enough to fall for

phoenix dawson (mason gooding) is a genuine, no shit, actual nice guy with no trauma ⇾ slice of life: a dance teacher with a heart of gold, nix believes in random acts of kindness, smiling at strangers, and telling the people you love how much you love them loudly and often & ideas: long term boyfriend / husband for domestic cuteness, trainwreck best friend he's always there to pick up when he falls, guy who bullied him in high school

edoardo "eddie" mancini (frank grillo) is the typical salt of the earth every man, doing his best to get by ⇾ slice of life: after the tragic death of his wife, eddie is finally forced to confront the secret he's always kept about his sexuality and hopefully figure out some kind of happiness (while his kids [24 - 38] mock him for being uncool) ⇾ any other genre: bewildered mechanic stumbles into supernatural shit / ends up in the apocalypse / some other shit, chaos ensues & ideas: someone from his past he once hooked up with, a friend of one of his kids, please lord let him get picked up at like a farmer's market or some shit, customer who leaves his number, barista who writes flirty messages on his cup, etc

[satari-raine]

Hi Satie!! 10 / 19 / 22 for the asks hehe

10. Something that made you cry this year?

stares at Sleep Token with red-rimmed and puffy eyes

No, I mean. Certainly their music overall and the last leg of their tour (and Wembley) got to me - not ashamed to admit I cried both out of sadness and happiness at seeing how that specific show went. Honestly, I could probably ramble about personal emotions or connections I've felt with their music, but I don't know if I could be eloquent enough (or interesting enough) to go on that much.

Aside from that, there's been several moments especially towards the end of the year where friends have shared funny videos or I've found some on my own time, and I genuinely love the internet for that - for making me laugh so hard I cry. People and their senses of humor are so endearing sometime, I just want to throw awards at them for their talent.

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

Answered here, but I can certainly add more! I want to start drawing again, and I want to try to make it a daily or weekly practice. Seeing so many amazing artists on here - and being lucky enough to call some of them mutuals or friends - has been a genuine delight, and certainly inspirational. That, and I miss it. Used to draw so much as a child throughout my teenage years and I lost both it and the little talent I had with it due to pursuing writing and being busy with school.

Long-winded way of saying: more creative stuff in the new year, hopefully!

22. Favorite place you visited this year?

Hmm, I haven't traveled much at all due to having to be frugal, to summarize that briefly, but I did get to go out-of-state to a convention where I had to speak at a conference. While there, there was a really nice music shop me and the people I was with visited, and I picked up a book of poetry there by one of the shop owners. (Of course, the English major is going to get a poetry book at a music story, the irony.) Not sure if it was my favorite place, but it was certainly memorable! I really do need to travel more.

Oh, I got to try Caribbean food for the first time while I was there which included a whole deep-tried tilapia, which was an experience? Especially with the bones. Not sure what was funnier, me playing Operation as I ate or my friends and coworkers being all surprised about the entire thing. Super delicious, though.

(As an aside, adding taking more pictures to my "plans for next year" thing. My camera roll is mostly my cats and books my professors showed me.)