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be-my-ally · 1 year

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Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine.

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans, if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant;

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh,

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him.

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood;

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little.

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching.

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree,

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion,

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.”

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys?

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle.

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy,

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously,

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle.

“Oh no it’s just a game - he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot.

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules.

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck.

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason - to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him, “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.” He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door.

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window.

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated;

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk.

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note.

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs.

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist,

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are,

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?”

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech;

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm,

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you;

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails.

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better.

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you.

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder.

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.”

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously.

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?”

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks,

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns.

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping,

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you. He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger.

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise,

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you,

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition.

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs,

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.”

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest.

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted.

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees.

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well.

#writing prompt game #60s elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis smut is probably a bit too far for what’s in this #so idk #light elvis smut #be-my-ally

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raincandyy-u · 5 months

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Recently I’ve seen people start talking about how they want a backstory for nene, and ngl I agree I don’t need nene to have some big traumatic event in the past like hanako I just wanna see her actually be affected by everything going on, she somewhat witnessed sumires remains, she had her friends disappear and die, she has had a whole bookshelf fall on her, she’s Essentially cursed to never be able to shower, she nearly died several times, she’s suicidal. I js wish Aidairo would actually explore how horrifying these scenarios are when you truly think about them, especially for a regular teenage girl. It feels like when we do see Nenes insecurities or worries be explored more they are quickly dismissed to move on to the next character. It’s like Aidairo just doesn’t like writing for nene. Even if we don’t get some huge backstory I would at least Iove to know about her home life, like how are her parents like? Don’t leave me alone to making silly headcanons 😭

I’m just waiting for when Nene goes back to normal because the baby thing felt kind of unnecessary, I wish they treated the confession more seriously too, instead of “haha Tsukasa kidnapped nene !!11 🤣🤣 haha silly baby nene and silly owl 🤣” 😭😭 I love nene sm and seeing her get treated more like a side character than the actual side characters feels so ick. I think we know more about the mysterious characters more than our own protagonist and it’s been 100 chapters.

#i made this instead of sleeping #nene yashiro #jshk #tbhk #yashiro nene #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk nene #tbhk nene #tbhk yashiro #jshk yashiro

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lasciviouspoison · 2 years

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i’ve been reading lolita for the past two days (sigh) and this scenario popped into my head after i read a part that made me wanna tear the book apart with my teeth….. so ofc i had to write it down. although it’s just a blurb, tw: contains mentions of the book Lolita (which is graphic in itself), written for a female reader (no pronouns are used so pls feel free to read even if u do not identify as a girl!). not a tw, but i write for black women so ofc y/n is black coded!! even if u think she isn’t <3

eren would love his little nerd gf.

the way you’re curled up into the corner of your shared cream colored couch. the tan blanket that you recently purchased flung over your legs, illuminated by the dull lamp that sits beside you. the off white hoodie that you stole, as eren likes to say, from his closet swallowing you whole. the sleeves constantly sliding too far off your wrists once you lift your arms too high.

your eyes flashing across the book you recently bought. he can see them through the reflection of your cute little glasses, the ones that he wishes you would wear more.

even though he’s supposed to be working on finishing his work proposal, he can’t help but stare. from the dining room table, his designated working area, he stares at his little girl friend who dances circles around his intelligence. who corrects him when he’s wrong and who will make every necessary edit on his proposal once he’s finished. “i just have to look over it, i can’t help it”, a statement you’ve made one too many times.

he loves you. it’s why everytime he sees you his brain flashes to the little red box that’s hidden in a compartment within his bedside table. he’s been itching to propose for 2 weeks now….

his train of thought is errupted when you huff at your book and borderline throw it down.

“this is disgusting. i don’t wanna keep reading, but i have to”. you say while shifting slightly to drink a bit of your matcha.

“what’s this one about baby?” please don’t tell me to keep working, is what he thinks after his inquiry. his english major lover refuses to let up on him when he’s tasked with a project.

you turn over to him, shaking your head ever so slightly, “it’s fucking Lolita… this deranged ass book. i hate it so much.”

“i’m assuming it’s the writing that makes it awful?”

“no! and that’s the problem!” you say while getting up, he knows your coming over to sit on the table next to his laptop. “it’s the content! this old mother fucker is lusting after a 12, eren, a 12 year old girl! and you know what he does eren…? he jokes about it! oh my god this is rancid! it was written as a cautionary tale so i get why it’s supposed to make me uncomfortable but jesus… and the worst part is people have the nerve to call it a love story. we’re a love story, not this pedophilic bullshit.”

eren puts his head onto his fist and cracks a small smile, “you think we’re a love story?”

you narrow your eyes and lean down to his face, “is that all you got from my rant just now?”

he laughs and bit and leans back into his chair, “of course not. the book sounds like actual nightmare fuel for parents. but, that doesn’t mean i can’t find you calling us a love story endearing.”

you sigh and hop off of the table. you’re making your way to the kitchen so you can grab some of the holiday cookies eren bought you because they were quote ‘snowman shaped’. “one of these days, you’re going to aggravate me so bad that i wax off one of your fucking eyebrows,” you say with a mouth full of cookie.

he walks over and grabs one out of the box as well, “i can’t wait y/n”.

you shake your head and push at his chest a bit, “i’ve been talking to you for too long. go and finish your proposal so i can edit it. god knows you can’t write a paper to save your life.”

he feigns hurt while you begin to walk back towards the couch, paying him absolutely no mind. “that last part wasn’t needed.”

you crack a smile and put your glasses back on, trying to wiggle back under the blanket and into the corner, “yes it was, it’s literally the reason why you’re paying for my education.”

“no, i’m doing that because i love you and want to see you succeed.”

“of course you are, but also to help you with writing”.

he sits back down and moves his mouse, causing the laptop to illuminate his face, “i’m not going to admit nor deny my poor writing skills. so hush and finish your rancid book Mrs. yeager.” proposal is so deeply ingrained in his mind that it’s making him feral.

you giggle, “mhm, i bet you won’t, Mr. yeager”.

#eren #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager

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altrodent · 1 year

Text

Draft Tests

untitled, Joe “Coop” Cooper x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, Teammate reader, language

Summary: Coop and Remer love you, but you gotta choose between em 🤭

(A/N): I dislike this one, and I haven’t been writing well recently but I have to put something out :(

Ever since highschool, you were best friends with two dimwits known as Joey Cooper and Doug Remer. You were quite literally, their only female friend but, no matter how much they try to hide it, they still both love you. As annoying as it can get, you never feel lonely, which brings you to this scenario.

“Hey, can we talk?” Coop is at your door in his Beer’s letterman jacket. “Course, come in.” He smiles before stepping in. As you close the door behind him you can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart. “So what’s up Coop?” You sit on the couch and signal him to sit next to you. “Well, I-“ he looks into your eyes “I…” a knock arrives at your door and he groans “sorry, let me get that.”

You open the door and see Remer stand ing outside your door. “Hey, dude, I really wanted to talk to you.” He smiles brightly at you. “No way, dude, go away!” Coop stands up with his hands on his hips. “Coop? What the hell, I thought we agreed that it should be me!” He walks around you making his way into “No, we didn’t agree on that, besides why do you think it should be you? You’re probably just in it for stupid reasons!” You’re dumbfounded, confused as hell about what’s happening “Uh, guys-?” They both turn to you “one second hun.” You stand there speechless. “You don’t even love her Rem, you just think she’s hot.” Coop groans and crosses his arms. “I could say the same thing for you-” you interrupt once more “Guys!” “What?!” You breathe in to try and hold in your frustration. “You two, sit down.” You shoo them onto the couch, and they sit on opposite sides, giving each other side glares and mocking faces like children. “Explain to me why the fuck you two are here talking about some shit about love” you cross your arms, neither of them respond “God, okay Coop what’s going on?” You crouch down to look at him and he looks into your eyes as his face lightens. You swear you can heard Remer mumble something about how “of course she went to him first…” coop looks you in the eye and takes your hand “I know we’ve been friends for so long, but I feel like ever since you’ve joined the team I just can’t help but feel… attracted to you- more than I was.” Your eyes widen, “You’re attracted, to me?” He rolls his eyes “well duh, everyone else has just been total cocks… you’re super cool to me, not to mention that you’re Uber hot and you’re super nice- when you want to be” he smiles brightly at you as a pink blush rises to your cheeks. “Booooo, boring, my turn!” You huff as you get up ti sit on the couch between them “So why are you here Remer- and before you start- I’ve been there all the times you’ve tried to butter women up with shit you didn’t do or can’t do.” He goes to talk and stops, the only thing he can muster is “I just think you’re schmokin’ hot.” You slap his arm and he runs out of your apartment. You lock the door, mumbling “dickhole.” You turn around and cooper is walking up to you “wanna-“ You cut him off with a kiss, your arms around his shoulder as his arms slowly snake around your torso. You pull away and look at him, biting the inside of your lip trying to contain your excitement “I was gonna ask if you wanna go practice for the game later, but this works too.” He smiles before he kisses your forehead and holds you in a warm embrace.

(A/N): again, I really don’t like this, but thank you if you read it this far! 😭💕

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weenwrites · 1 year

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Could you write scenarios where tfp Megatron, Optimus, and Predaking meet a kitsune/nine-tailed fox reader who is constantly sleeping but the reason is because they see the future in their dreams

Caught Up In The Future

Pairing - Romantic Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - None

Ween says:"Half-way through writing I just realized I misread your request and I wrote something angsty with the reader as an S/O instead. I was considering scraping the entire work and rewriting it, but I couldn't think of anything interesting, so I hope this is fine instead. I'm sorry for the slip-up!"

Predaking let out a low, annoyed growl, bothered by all the commotion outside the ship. The buzzing saws, the screeching of metal, the back and forth lumbering of vehicons who were helping one another haul heavy metal scraps to and fro—all of it was getting on the predacon’s nerves. So with a huffy growl, he shifted positions and covered his head with his massive, scaly claws before curling up tighter, as if that would help him in any way, which it didn’t.

Out of the corner of his bright, flaxen optics, he caught sight of Y/N, sitting just meters away from him with their eyes closed, legs folded, and tails tapping against the floor. At least he wasn’t the only one annoyed by all the commotion outside, he thought.

And while he’d usually be upset that they were being disturbed as well, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see them awake. He hardly sees them awake from day to day, and while he was free to wake them whenever he pleased, he felt—he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. It was the idea that he had to wake them up in order to spend time with them and speak with them, rather than them choosing to spend time with him that upset him greatly. Even when they began “dating”, they rarely spent much time together which upset him even more.

As his claws began to curl and his tail began to beat against the metal floor, Y/N opened their eyes and cast him a glance.

“You’re upset.” They said.

He growled, proving their suspicions correct. His plates suddenly hissed and began shifting as he transformed into his rootmode.

“Wanna chat about it, big guy?”

“Why do you choose to rest so long?”

"Ah, so it's not just the noise that's bothering you," they shrugged, “I’m an organism that needs a lot of sleep, I’m not as efficient as—“

“You have misunderstood me.” He interjected.

“Hm?”

“You sleep to see into the future, but of what use is the future if you are not there to experience it yourself?”

“I am experiencing it,” they replied casually, “I’m experiencing it through my dreams.”

“That is not the same as in the flesh.”

“Guess we have differing ideas of what’s ‘experiencing it’ and what isn’t.” They remarked, "and besides, that way I can tell you what happens next before you experience it."

"That is all you talk to me of." He grumbled.

The two paused for a moment.

“I recall that you mentioned the realities you witness through your dreams are ones without you.” He began again, “I do not understand why you would wish to continue viewing such realities. Why waste your time with such menial visions when you could relish in the present with me?”

Y/N turned to fully meet Predaking’s gaze—the once prideful and cocky look in his optics had faded and given way to a confused and hurt look, veiled by an attempt to look indifferent.

“Am I of any importance to you?” He questioned.

“Well of course you are.”

“Then why do I not feel that you are being sincere?” He rumbled.

“I understand that my recent actions aren’t really supporting what I have to say, but I promise that you are important to me,” they urged, “I’m sorry, Predaking, that I’ve been spending too much time sleeping rather than being around you. I promise you that after today I’ll try my best to do better for you and for us.”

He didn’t look completely convinced, but, a small sliver of hope was seen in his optics.

“How about we spend some time together? Right now? We could go out for a walk,” They offered, “if you aren’t busy?”

“That… Would be pleasant.” He replied, scooping them up into his hands before drawing himself to full height.

“Yeah, it beats staying in a noisy ship.” They added on the way out the door—

Well, that's how he hoped it could turn out, but reality was always more disappointing than his hopeful fantasies. He couldn't tell them, not now, not while they still slept away—contrary to his imaginary version of them—left completely undisturbed by all the noise outside unlike he was.

With a low growl, he stood up and sauntered out of the habsuite. A nice change of scenery would relieve him from all the annoying noise, with or without their company.

#tfp imagines #tfp scenarios #tfp x reader #tfp predaking #predaking x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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promptful · 2 years

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heya!! i found out your account recently, i seriously love your prompts! you got such a brilliant mind <3 can i request prompts for two colleagues falling in love? :) (im writing a story about two police detectives, but you don't have to make it that specific if you wanna make it more general)

Police Detectives to Lovers

I was inspired for this, and I want you to know that I love this.

WARNINGS: Mention of gun. Violence. Crimes. Detective things.

SCENARIOS

1) You push me out of the way before I’m attacked/shot/stabbed. Why? Why do that at the expense of your own well being? We’re only co-workers.

2) After being hurt in the field, and every single officer not willing to make the drive, you come to my house every night to make sure I’m all right.

3) We’re working on a case together and we both get trapped in a room/closet/pantry/dumpster/alleyway. Now what?

4) Stakeouts are bad enough as it is, but stakeouts with you next to me? So close in this tiny car in this back alley?

5) Your body pressed against mine as you steady my aim. I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out because your hands so effortlessly cover mine.

6) I tackled a suspect before they could hurt you, and you’re fussing over me.

7) The captain is considering firing you after some insubordination, and I don’t want to alarm you, but if you leave I’m quitting.

8) I don’t want to work with (x), they’ve been hitting on me since I’ve started working here. I know we barely know each other, but be my partner?

9) Stop threatening to arrest me for being so cute.

10) After every night, we disassemble our guns and clean them after the precinct shuts down. Tonight, you’re not here.

11) I can’t help but think about how good you’d be with kids after dealing with a minor victim. All soft tones and little smiles.

12) There’s always cases that really mess with your head. And I thought I’d be okay, but I wasn’t. You take it upon yourself to sit next to me and be a shoulder to cry on.

13) …Have you ever considered any other career path but detective, because right now you’re struggling to work the coffee machine and I can do nothing but stare. My God.

14) I took off my badge after a particularly hard case without any support. Imagine my surprise when you did, too.

15) After a new trainee gets transferred to our precinct, you decided to take the seat across from my desk. God, nobody is getting anything done anymore.

16) You suck at interrogation. Move.

17) It’s a couple’s hotel, and there’s a renowned crime lord in there. Come in, we have this, right?

18) You want to start sparring after I was caught off guard by a criminal. More often than not, it ends up with you pinning me to the mat.

19) This kind of work doesn’t leave time for relationships or love. But—I can’t help but want to explore more with you.

20) After work, you ask me to hang out for the first time to talk about cases and I don’t know what to do.

#story prompt #otp prompts #prompt list #writing prompts #creative writing #dialogue prompt #dialogue prompts #fanfiction prompts #writeblr #writing prompt #rp starters #tw guns #tw violence #tw crime #prompt #p.

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kitsumo · 2 years

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CONTENT WARNING :: dicussion of HB (Helluva Boss), and abuse, if you don't wanna see stuff relating to this content the TL:DR is "grrrr i ahte the creator and the content" ok have a nice day.

Helluva boss is NOT good. I'm saying this outright, it is at best, mediocre, and at worst, a horrible piece of media that romanticizes abuse when it benefits from it. And as of the most recent episode, it leans far more into the worst-case scenario than the best.

*As a quick note; Yes, I’ve seen all the Helluva Boss episodes (As of S2E2). Do not try to claim anything relating to me just not having seen it, I have.

Helluva Boss for those uninformed, is an indie animation series by Vivienne Maree Medrano, more famously known as “Vivziepop”. The show follows boss of murder business Blitz as he struggles to balance his business and the encounters between him and Stolas.

The show, however, once you dive into it, is bad. It’s just. Bad. The writing is inconsistent, bland, and downright toxic at points.

The main plot line is a “Will they? Won’t they?” between Blitz & Stolas, y’know, the toxic ””couple””.

I’ll get more on the treatment of abuse within Helluva Boss later, but even without that; the story is plain and boring to watch because... You don’t really want the two to actually get together, and neither do the characters! With Blitz talking to Stolas at the end of S1E7 about how he can’t deal with the constant objectification and ignoring of his emotions.

Now that alone should’ve been an answer to “Will they? Won’t they?”, because they don’t want to.

The characters, however, are not a good source for how they feel because they flip-flop and lose character traits at a moment’s notice when the show wants them to. They never grow, and yet they never stay the same.

This is the main source of the inconsistencies, with characters acting unlike they should, making illogical choices, and of course, changing without reason and ignoring the change that they should��ve kept.

(*The biggest examples of this I will provide are; Blitz promising Moxxie to be better and then instantly stalking him and his wife next episode; Octavia forgiving Stolas for no real reason besides being told to; and Blitz’s emotions about Stolas constantly swapping when the show so desires.)

The show’s writing is just downright bad, also. Boring, unfunny, and confusing, the show ignores its own setting and in-world rules, bends them to the character’s wills, and does whatever to make the plot it wants to happen, happen. In S2E2, Octavia asks for the book to “take her to the stars”. It then brought her to LA. But why? How does this book know lingo for a famous person? It’s obvious what Octavia wanted, and there is no real reason why she ended up in LA other than the episode’s plot called for it.

And at the end of the episode, Octavia forgives Stolas for no reason! Octavia is obviously upset that her dad doesn’t bother to check in on her or care for her in the slightest, (*He didn’t even know Octavia went missing, he had to be informed of this!) and what is the thing she’s told? “Oh well, everyone has issues, just because they don't act like they care doesn’t mean they don't!”

Which... I don’t think I have to explain how that’s a terrible thing to say to a child who’s distressed about the situation regarding her parents.

Another thing, the whole “they met as kids”... Blitz is implied to be younger than Stolas, but then in S2E1, they’re the same age. This seems to be done purely for ship bait. Speaking of S2E1, let’s talk about how abuse is treated within Helluva Boss.

Stolitz is an inherently toxic and abusive relationship, the two meet when Blitz is sold to Paimon. And when they re-meet again years later, Stolas doesn’t even remember Blitz’s name but is far too eager to have sex with him. Although Blitz started that, he is clearly uninterested in the encounter, having snuck in to steal something from Stolas.

Not to mention, the whole thing with Stolas being a prince of hell and Blitz being an imp. Vivzie has said (*Though this is never expanded upon, shown, reflected, or otherwise implied within the show itself besides snarky comments from Stolas and his dad.) that imps are at the lowest rank within hell’s hierarchy. With Stolas showing mild discomfort benign around imps before, it’s got bad implications when we’re supposed to see Stolas and Blitz as a cute couple.

Stolas is shown being inappropriate with Blitz throughout the series, the worst example being his flirting with Blitz as he’s panicking instead of doing literally anything else in S2E2. Blitz is shown and outright states that he’s uncomfortable with this. Though with how inconsistent the characters act, this barely matters to the show except for when it can create fun ✨Drama.✨

But oh! No! Abuse is bad, actually! But only when characters we don’t like do it. At the end of S2E1, Stella (*Stolas’s wife.. Or, ex-wife.) is implied to be abusive towards Stolas, obviously, that isn’t good, abuse is bad… But... The abuse Stolas does… isn’t..? Oh when Stolas sexually harasses a person he perceives as being below him, and when he neglects the needs of his daughter, he’s just sad and lonely, isn’t he? Nope, he’s not abusive! He just needs someone to love him and fix him right up! (*Sarcasm.)

The show flips its moral when it so desires, and when it fits the narrative it wants to tell. Abuse is bad, but only when it happens to characters we like! Stalking and Sexual harassment is funny! Except when I decide it isn’t! You can’t have your cake and eat it, either the stuff that’s happening is bad, or it isn’t, you can’t portray abuse as fun and quirky but then turn around and say it isn’t when you benefit from it.

And don’t anyone say anything like, “Oh but it’s hell! They’re supposed to be bad!” The show knows it’s bad. It just doesn’t want to portray things as bad if its darling characters do them.

And this isn’t... Just a Helluva Boss thing, either. There’s a weird pattern in Vivzie’s content where abuse is romanticized. Leaving little, if any, room to have the content get better when Vivzie’s the head writer and creator of the thing.

It worries me heavily, mostly for the fans.

Vivzie’s bred this weird, “creator’s word is law” community that praises her for breathing. And when this happens around a show and creator that treats abuse as something fun and cute, it’s concerning! Especially since a lot of her fans are not adults.

Her fandom attacks anything that opposes their norm, (*Sometimes, this includes Vivzie’s choices to change small details on designs!) blindly accepting whatever Vivzie does and dismissing flaws that breed into worse and worse problems.

It’s like a cockroach swarm, there’s never just “one” cockroach. And letting it just go, ignoring that it exists, will leave roaches infesting your cereal.

And it’s... Not that you can separate the content Vivzie makes, after all, art is a personal thing.

And if you can, what’s the line? When is too much, too much? If you can’t separate the art from the artist, what does that say about the artist themselves?

At the end of the day, Helluva boss and the likes concern me, not just for how bad it is, but for the fact that Vivzie’s brought back this weird, 2012 fandom that bullies, harasses, and pushes aside any criticism. Her fans, a large majority of them, lack media literacy, acknowledging the issues within a property you enjoy, is very important! It does suck when things turn out bad, but nothing good comes from ignoring issues. If you can’t handle a show you like maybe not being so great, how will you handle people you know ending up not being so great?

Overall.. I’m concerned. Fans I have known, act not very great. Fans I’ve just seen passing by, act not very great, and Vivzie herself, doesn’t act very great.

I don’t think you can separate this art from its artist.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss critical #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #i just wanted my thoguhts out #i am tired

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foxgloveinspace · 1 year

Note

witchy Sleep Token experiences? 👀 it's my new fixation

(Edit: sequel to this ask)

Hi there! I debated for awhile about answering this, just because some of it is still so weird to even think about, talking about it was an interesting experience in itself. But I’m gonna lol.

I wanna start off by saying I think most of it heightened adhd symptoms, and my own witchy-ness. I don’t really think Sleep Token as anything going on (except maybe Vessel has some withy knowledge.) I also wanna say that I am a baby witch. I don’t practice often and most of my practice is gathering knowledge. I don’t live in a safe place to practice more then that. I’m almost more of an herbalist, then anything else. I firmly am of the opinion that Sleep Token is about personal experiences told through Story/Made up scenarios. I also think all of this is the universe bopping me over the head with a paper towel roll like ‘these guys are important to you, have some witchy stuff with them’ cause it knows I’ll like that. But now I have some weird witchy experiences to talk about lmao. There’s little ones I’m leaving out, and all of this is real, even tho it sounds Fake As Fuck.

This one I think is heightened adhd symptoms and my own woo woo stuff. I have this smell that I have up my nose sometimes it either happens when I’m minding my own business, and I’ll smell a light floral scent which makes me go ‘oh sleep token?’ And I either have to stop what I’m doing and listen to them or just think about them for a moment. Or it happens when I think about them deeply for long periods of time. It was very strong when I was writing on of the fics I wrote, like someone has stuck flowers under my nose. It’s an unknown floral scent to me. But I’m chalking this one up to mostly my adhd (with a bit of witchy thrown in) as I have physical things that happen to me when it comes to other special interests. (I feel like I’m getting hugged when I read the end of AftG, ect). But it’s just weird in they way it happens, and how heightened it is and since I can’t place the smell if I find out it it’s the light scent of for-get-me-nots I’m gonna flip my lid lol.

This next one is the strangest one. I remember it very clearly and I still kinda get a little freaked out. The day that I first listened to The Summoning was not long after it came out, I remember finding it through instagram and all the people making jokes about how Sleep Token where insuring that metal heads where gonna have a great Valentine’s Day and babies in November. So I go over to my music app, and I start it up, and immediately I’m like ‘is this even the same song?? Idk I love it tho.’ And then of course it gets to the end and yeah it’s that song. Instantly in love with it and start playing it on repeat but decided I’d wait until I had more spoons to listen to the rest of their discography, and I never look at what bands look like anymore? I let go of looking into bands when I let go of kpop and of course I didn’t end up having the mental energy for looking into a new band until April when I became a changed person lmao. I remember this so clearly, it was a Saturday, I was out shopping late with my family, I was already overstimulated, and this happened in a run down Dollar Tree parking lot with overcast sky’s as it started getting dark out. I listened on repeat while we started heading home. I got a migraine on the way home, not a bad one, (and at the time I didn’t even know that’s what it was, I’ve only recently been like ‘oh I get migraines??’) and so I sat there with my eyes closed, and in the visual disturance/aura, I saw Vessel. And it’s still freaky to think about, I get slight chills up my spine. I don’t normally have figures in my auras, it’s usually just splotches of flashing green and purple. But in the middle of my vision, was a hooded man, and only the lower half of his face was visible and his eyes. It was…. Really fucking weird, and when I put two and two together I just kinda had to be still for awhile (I think I was doing the dishes??) yeah, that was the big one that I’ve had, and it sounds so fake, oof.

I think I’ll leave it there, I’ve had some other small ones that could be chalked up to adhd but I like to think of them as witchy. I might talk about them some other time tho.

#I hope it’s ok that I’m answering this on my blog and not privately also #very much so #witchy sleep token experiences #idk how to tag this tbh #sleep token #for blacklist #witchy stuff #another thing is that I’ve been really wanting to get back into my practice cause I haven’t been doing it often #i actually used oils this morning!! crazy??#long post

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introverted-ghost · 1 year

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Hello, hyd? :)) (tw for long ask below. Feel free to ignore)

Could you help me w something, pretty please?

I need to do an informative speech for college about an "interesting" topic. So I made a list of topics and now am asking my friends what topic/s they like the most/think are the most interesting. I was hoping you could take a look and give me your opinion (no pressure tho, if you don't wanna/are bussy, whatever, it's totally okay.) Here's my list:

1. Agnes Sorel. She was King Charles VII of France mistress in the XV century. She saved France's economy and prevent a British invasion all by herself. She was so cool some painters from the time used to portray her as Virgin Mary.

2. Dance plagues.

3. Gorbals' vampire hunt. In 1954 all the children from a town in Scotland were so convinced there was a vampire killing people, that at night hundreds of them went out with axes and knives looking for the monster.

4. What would happened if the sun disappeared/what would happened if the moon disappeared.

5. Why do people like to be scared (horror movies, ghost stories, roller-coasters, extreme sports...) (like. the scientific reason.)

6. The case of a woman who went to the hospital because she had "lost her body." She could see, and feel, and move her whole body, but she felt like the left side of her body wasn't hers, as if there was a void in there. This happened after she had a brain surgery to remove a tumor.

7. Missing 411 phenomenon. I really don't know if it is like a well-known topic in North America. Here in the south almost nobody knows about it, so I think it would be cool to explain how weird all these missing cases are and how non of them has ever been solved.

In case you actually read all this, thank you v much :) have an amazing day.

(I heard about all these stories a long time ago, I could be giving some incorrect information lmao.)

FUCK MY CULMINATING IM GONNA GIVE MY INPUT

1. Wow she does sound really cool. From the information provided and what I remember from 5th grade French history agnès sorel would be pretty cool to write about

2. This is the one I know the most about out of those you’ve listed. The dancing plagues were so weird and I think it would be really interesting to write about

3. After brief research this also sounds super cool. Especially since it happened so recently and it would be so interesting to research further

4. I don’t know about this one since it’s pretty obvious what would happen. Like since we’ve seen the outcome of what happens when sun-like stars have died before. Don’t get me wrong it’s super cool I just don’t know if people would want to continue paying attention to it as much if they already knew what would happen (same with moon scenario) but they’re still really cool and interesting which is what you’re looking for

5. Once again this one is just kinda obvious as an answer. Like it triggers the brain to release dopamine and Idrk how you could expand on that. Though if you could it’d be interesting

6. I have literally never heard of this before. All the other ones I knew a bit about but I’ve never heard this before and it sounds pretty cool

7. Yeah we don’t hear much about this in Canada since it was a us thing. But I do think it’s kinda cool since they all went missing in parks right? And like their cases didn’t get solved etc. pretty neat if you ask me

This probably wasnt the answer you were looking for and I also answered this like 2hours post sending so sorry for that. And you’re never bothering me dw man I’d love to see the speech you come up with. Anyways now I’m gonna work on my stuff and listen to some guy on youtube talk about journey to the west

I hope you have a wonderful evening and best wishes to you for your speech

#asks #fucking rambling #I actually did hear my family briefly talking about the missing 411 a couple years back #course they called it ‘411(quatre cent onze) manquant

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leafannarchive · 1 year

Text

new year’s eve - run it back 😼

i’m copying scoops @scoops404 again because this was her idea originally!! i put this on my twitter already but i wanna have it on tumblr too SO here’s my 2022 fic rank and recap. i’m putting them under the cut because i simply wrote so much this year it was insane.

i loved all my fics this year, and thank you if you’ve read even one of my fics. it means the absolute world to me. i have so many things i still want to do so. here’s to 2023 and more insane dnf writing 🫶

19. i could easily lose my mind

part 8 of the pro soccer dnf series!! it was my first step back into the “present” after the olympics fic. it’s cute but someone has to be last place :)

18. everything i need i get from you

more pro soccer dnf (part 9) and it’s the wedding fic!! it’s cute too, i just don’t love weddings. i struggled with this one a bit tbh but i wanted to get the wedding done and out of the way. i like how it came out in the end though!!

17. love you for a long time

this one is the light on sequel!! i had so much fun writing it because light on is so personal to me. obviously i’ve been to the places i write about in it and it’s always fun to revisit those trips. the universe itself is also incredibly fun to revisit

16. when it is hopeless i start to notice

pro soccer dnf again but this time it’s the olympics one so part 5. this one hurt so bad, like i cried rereading it. she’s good, she could be better. hope to improve on the international rivalry in a future fic :)

15. the universe works in mysterious ways

this one’s cute!! it’s a little bit of a vent about my apartment but with a much happier ending. it was my first shot at grad student george with streamer dream which obviously i just revisited these dynamics later and wrote something better, but this one is still worth a shot!!

14. follow what i’m feeling

this was the second meetup fic i wrote of three this summer. this one was based on some tiktoks about the inherent romance in friendship!! i look back on this one so fondly. i went on a walk to clear my head after writing the ending and then got back home and completely rewrote it (shoutout scoops for the help with this one)

13. they don’t know how special you are

this one was good, the first deeper look i gave into the pro soccer universe characters!! i like this one a lot but i’m docking points because i used a lot of stuff from a fic i wrote for a different fandom. idea recycle and even some scenarios in the fic were recycled and changed a bit.

12. it’s nice to have a friend

more pro soccer in college. i wrote a few different fics exploring snf’s friendship this year and this was one of them!! i think of them all, this was my least favorite which is why i put it here :)

11. you are in love

third meetup fic i wrote just before the actual meetup!! i love this one and i got to try out a nonlinear timeline. also i wrote about dream wearing a chain before we knew he does for sure. one of my highlights this year

10. that’s because i wanna be your favorite boy

mostly wrote this at the airport after missing a flight which turned into a whole mess (i’m sure some of u guys remember i got accused of plagiarism for this one 👺) BUT i think it’s a cute little college au that slays. i like the way i wrote dream coming out and how his friends and george react specifically :)

9. complete mess

OKAY this is a deviation. this is my snf fic and i actually love this premise. it’s cute, it’s fun, based on the morning lobbies and their little friend group. it was for a little challenge with some friends :)

8. one day i know that you will be there

my twist on how the dream team blew up but a long fic!! my baby girl going into 2022. disclaimer, i started this fic before george took to the internet and started talking about how much he hates editing 👍 it’s still fun though with lots of besties qnf and callahan.

7. he’s falling, i offer him my hand

my first meetup fic!! it recently hit 1k kudos so thank you all sm 🫶 man this one… i put a lot of my own loneliness into it, scenes from my experience living alone in 2022 and came up with something i love. this one has some nswf btw so. look out for that

6. for a while you were all mine

latest fic 😼 and this was my second attempt at grad student george streamer dream and i really really like this one!! good show of how i’ve improved this year i think

5. you and i

the pro soccer dnf origin story. i adored this fic, it was for the one year anniversary, it shows so much george character development. they are so important to me. this is my favorite pro soccer part of all time (part 7)

4. peace

pro hockey dnf. i saw the clip of george saying he played hockey and this was born. i stuck them on my favorite team and included some of my favorite hockey ship’s insane moments. perfect fic. showstopper. it’s also had art made for it twice which is EPIC ‼️

3. delicate

rivals (sort of one sided?) to lovers >:) basketball george and football dream at florida state. it is everything to me. the george, foolish, sapnap friendship dynamics were so fun to write. and background punznap!!!

2. tear in my heart

kidfic!! i love liam and i love what i did incorporating a/b/o as part of a challenge. i loved the time travel aspect. it was really really hard to pick between the last two. it’s a very close second :)

1. light on

and finally, dream’s birthday fic!! this one is so personal. it’s me and my life on display. it’s a love letter to my city. it’s coming to terms with growing up and changing. i love their relationship and i put so so much of myself into it plus getting to read all the comments of people relating too. i don’t know it just made me feel so nice.

#dnf #my fics

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murderslugs · 3 years

Text

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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dreadnotau · 2 years

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Happy one year of Dread Not, everyone!

Yeah, it really has been that long already. It honestly doesn’t feel like it’s been a year at all! Even if you just recently found the comic, or stuck with it since the first promotional post, thank you. This project has been one of the most fulfilling I’ve taken on in a long time. And, as usual, I’d like to say some things on this occasion.

Firstly, hoo boy the numbers are bigger than I imagined they’d be. As of writing this, the Tumblr account has 295 followers, and the Twitter account is sitting at a comfortable 41. That is a LOT of people. As some of you may recall, I made a milestone post when we reached 100 followers on Tumblr, and I genuinely thought that would be the biggest milestone I reach that year.

I didn’t even notice when we got past 200 followers (most of whom were coming from my youtube channel of all things), and now we’re close to 300! That’s madness!! Especially for a project like this that’s being handled by exactly one person with minimal help from a friend. (That friend is @meowchela btw I feel like I don’t promote her enough. She’s basically the reason this comic exists at all, she’s wonderful).

Obviously I don’t want this whole post to just be about the metrics, I wanna talk about other things that surround this comic. Like how much of a mess working on it tends to be. I don’t wanna turn this into me whining about school but, long story short, I’m in my last year of high school right now, prepping for college and writing my thesis (I think that’s the right English word…) and it’s all VERY hectic.

I’m not gonna pretend that I’m trying my hardest at all of this, I will be the first to say my time management is awful, I’m just bringing this all up for anyone wondering why updates are so slow, and why I missed the page upload on catholic Christmas. It all gets a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, but I won’t stop working on this comic, that’s for sure! Paradoxically, somehow I’m more motivated to work on Dread Not if I should be doing other things. I think it’s pure spite at this point.

Speaking of responsibility, I promised more bonus content both on Tumblr and on Twitter on several occasions and, as you all can probably see, that has not happened yet. The simplest explanation is that I often don’t have ideas for what kind of bonus content to even make. Sketches of the characters? Finished drawings of the characters? Scrapped scenes from the comic? Non-canon scenarios and scenes? The characters’ design references? Canon facts about the characters and the world that I wasn’t able to include in-comic? More speedpaints??

I’m sure these all sound great on paper, but I have no idea how much time and energy I’d have to potentially allocate for each, and how much they’d actually impact people’s interest in the comic. For now, the bonus content will stay minimal until I can think of something reliable and interesting to release as said bonus content.

If you’re really invested in Dread Not, though, I’d recommend joining the discord server! It’s not too big, it has around 20 people in it so far, and I like to think it’s a fairly casual server! The reason I’m promoting it here is because it helps with my motivation to work on the comic a LOT. It really makes a world of difference when you can talk to people one on one instead of just relying on numbers on a post.

If you don’t want to join the server but still want to share your thoughts on the comic, the ask box is always open, and so are my DMs! Both here and on my main Tumblr. My main Tumblr got a bit of an upgrade recently, so I’ll maybe be more active there than I was before. Maybe. No promises.

On the bright side, I have nearly the whole story planned out now! I know that might not sound like much, but the story has been very loose with it’s structure so far (as you may have noticed). The story jumps from character to character at near random, some ideas are left hanging for tens of pages on end until they’re picked up again, and the narration in the yellow boxes feels arbitrary at best and out of place at worst, at least when I go back and reread it myself. This is because act 1 was sketched out in it’s entirety before I started actually fully rendering and releasing the pages online. So, the story of act 1 was made in a very “explorative” way, in that I had only vague concepts I wanted to get down on paper eventually in my head, and a blank canvas to work with. The pacing and structure of it has been a little lacking because of that, and I’m doing my best to right that wrong by planning out acts 2, 3 and 4 before beginning to sketch them properly.

Speaking of, I can finally put a somewhat number to how long this story will be! All of what’s been released so far, and what I’ll release in the foreseeable future, is only part of Act 1. Act 2 will be a bit more hectic, and although I don’t have the exact number yet, I’m *assuming* the overall page number of it will be similar to Act 1. Act 3 will be a doozy, as it’ll technically have two intermissions as well. And Act 4 is a beast of it's own. It’s all almost too long to even think about without getting stressed immediately. But I know it’ll be worth it! Now that I have an actual path set out for me, I can try and tackle this growing giant of a project with more of a plan than I had when I started.

Although this is Dread Not’s first anniversary, I’ve actually been working on the comic for quite a bit longer than that. If we don’t count the concept phase, then just the comic itself is nearly two years old! (Jesus, time flies) But I do want today, the 23rd of January, to be the proper and official Dread Not Day. It doesn’t have any significance other than bringing a smile to my face, though. And hopefully to yours, too!

Here’s to another great year of working on this behemoth of a project, and probably several more after that because this story isn’t gonna be done anytime soon! Pour one out for my drawing hand, folks, it’s a long road ahead.

And, again, thank you for reading. Thank you for sticking with me and for enjoying what I’ve made. I hope you’ll enjoy what comes next just as much, maybe more. Stay tuned!

#undertale #undertaleau #undertale au #deltarune #deltarune au #deltaruneau #dread not #dreadnot #dread not au #dreadnotau #not comic #toriel #the fusion #corundum #i've already said so much in the post theres no point for me to ramble in the tags as well

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hurtsprincess · 2 years

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The Rest That’s Still Unwritten

Hi folks! 👋🏻

Today I wanna establish a new category / posting-series on this blog, and as you can guess from the title (...if you know, you know 😉), this will be all about yet unwritten stories. Or to be exact: About my many, many drafts, unfinished works and raw concepts 🤓

Cause there really are a lot of them by now! Since I started writing Carlando-fanfiction in 2020, I’ve had so many cool ideas for stories, long or short, that I sadly just cannot realise them all anymore by now - the old problem of ‘so many projects, so little time’ that probably every creative mind knows… 😬

However, even if I personally love them all, there are nonetheless some ideas that I don’t think will ever overcome the state of just ‘vibing’ with them in my head. For whatever reason, I just don’t see me actually writing them - let it be plot holes, unanswered questions, too high efforts or that I just don’t “feel” them anymore to really take on the writing journey. (Especially with the longer projects!)

But because I like these basic ideas nonetheless and feel pretty bad for leaving them in my “not now”-folder and would rather want to somehow appreciate them - I thought, why should I not write them down in a shortened form and share them with you still? 🤓

As something somewhere between what you call a ‘prompt’ and a ‘ficlet’ here or the like - sorry, I’m not good with internet slang, haha 🙈 But just something that will give you a little movie in your head and that you might enjoy still, even if it’s not properly narrated - and that also allows me to clear my mind of the many open tabs 🙈

...and yeah, that is exactly what will happen in this category 🤗

(Oh, by the way, if you happen to like one draft a lot and want to turn it into an actual story, please feel free and do it!! ♥ Just please credit me for the idea and of course send me the link later if you publish it, cause I’d definitely LOVE to read your take on them! 🤩🤩)

…so, enough of explanations - let’s get started with the first story that I will not write! Which is also the most recent idea on my list, since it is the continuation of my latest one-shot “Red like Love / Rot wie die Liebe”.

I know I said in the notes that I won’t write a part 2, because these scenarios have been done often enough meanwhile (in my eyes) - but that doesn’t change that said scenario just won’t leave my head anymore ever since, haha. Because I do have a clear vision of what will happen next… 👀

So I decided to word it, for everyone else who might want to know, too. But, warning: If you haven’t read the actual OS yet and don’t want any spoilers, then please don’t click on the cut and read the main story first! ☝🏻

#1 Red like Love / Rot wie die Liebe Part II

We’re picking up right where the original story has ended: With Lando standing on Carlos’ doorstep, breathless from his flight from the Lola Lounge, and desperate to talk to his now ex-teammate.

Carlos, in turns, is of course massively confused - considering both the time (somewhat middle of the night) and the unexpectedness of their reunion, since the two of them had not really seen each other ever since the departure from their last race as teammates together in Abu Dhabi. Of course they had in a way taken notice of each other during the testing week, but only briefly and from afar, as they both had been busy with their respective, now different teams. So they had not talked really ever since December, and neither texted or communicated at all in any other way than liking each other’s Instagram posts and viewing their stories, in order to keep up with what the other one is doing. Because after all, they do not hate each other. Of course they don’t. They used to be best friends before Carlos’ last day at work, and even more. They have just never talked about it, but they have never argued or the like.

And probably that dynamic, combined with the surprise effect and the rest-sleepiness in his head, is the reason why the Spaniard doesn’t yell at him what the f he is doing here so late at night, waking him up and everything, but steps back from the door and actually invites Lando in - albeit still in massive confusion over this situation. Is he maybe only dreaming the whole thing…?

But on the other hand, he apparently is also glad to see him again so unexpectedly - or at least does it look like that to Lando. In the way that he watches him come into the room, with a faint shimmer of anticipation and… hope? in his chocolate-brown eyes.

And also from how his ex-teammate, who still looks strange to him in his Ferrari-shirt, is not interested in small talk when Lando nervously makes a first comment about that this is a nice room - even if his own one, two floors down, looks pretty much just the same. The typical medium business suite that they stay in wherever they go for a race.

But in this moment, it feels so much smaller and narrower and just more… intimate, especially in the only very dim lighting - obviously, Carlos has only switched the night lamp on his bedside-table on when he has made his way to the door.

Maybe the abrupt waking is also the reason why he is not interested in having a casual chit-chat about hotel interior, but shuts it down instantly. “You did not really come here to talk about my room now, did you?”, he asks, a litte passive-aggressively, and from his face, it is beyond doubt that he would then get but angry.

Which Lando definitely doesn’t want.

Shaking his head, he says: “No, no, of course not-”

And when he sees the hopeful, begging, unspoken ‘then what…?’ in Carlos’ eyes, this is the last call that the younger one needs to speak out the truth that he has been carrying with over the whole winter: “It’s just- I- I miss you.”

Three words which hit Carlos like a thunderbolt, catching him so off-guard that he cannot even reply anything - but Lando doesn’t wait for his reaction either. As it seems, once he is talking about this, he can’t stop anymore; and so he tells Carlos everything.

That he is aware that he has never said it explicitly and has, even more, denied it even in this one press conference. But that he does miss him. That he has known it before that he would, but that he was too afraid to admit it even to himself. Because he was too scared of kicking something off in his mind that would change everything and that he could never un-think again.

But the truth is, he misses Carlos. Every time he sits in the briefings or has to do social media content, which used to be so much fun last year when they were doing their shenanigans, or just comes to the track and sees a different number than 55 in the other side of the garage.

He misses Carlos, and- he says that he can’t really narrow down why either, but he just wanted to let him know that.

But no, that is not true - the younger one knows exactly WHY he wanted him to know.

Because he also misses him beside him in the far too big hotel-bed at nighttime. He misses feeling his palms roaming over his skin, misses kissing him, misses sharing things with him that nobody else does. Misses him, in every aspect of his life.

However - these feelings appear to be one-sided, given how Carlos stands there and just… looks at him when he’s finished. Stares at him with wide eyes from shock, speechless, motionless.

As a result of which Lando suddenly is very aware of what he has just done here.

“S-sorry. That was weird-…”, he mumbles and makes moves to turn around and take flight from the suddenly even smaller, far too small hotel room. “I better go-”

But ere he could reach his hand out for the handle, Lando feels a grip on his wrist, and before he knows, he finds himself with his back against the door and Carlos right in front of him, staring him down with the intensity of a supernova in his eyes.

“Is that true?”, he wants to know, with his voice so low in awe that it scratches, and his face as serious as never before. “You… miss me?”

And blame it on the intensity of the moment and how close they are suddenly again, but even though he at the same time is embarrassed for his break-out, Lando can’t lie. Can’t deny it.

No more.

Carlos would see it anyway in his face, as close as they are.

So the younger one just nods, slowly; his voice hoarse from honesty. “Y-yeah…” He gulps. “A lot…”

His eyes insecurely scan Carlos’ mien for any reaction, but only for a second - cause already in the next moment, Lando finds himself pressed against the door and involved in a stormy kiss when Carlos downright desperately pushes his lips onto his.

The Briton has reckoned with everything, but not with that, but of course he does not complain - within seconds, the switch from ‘anxiety’ to ‘enjoyment’ in his brain is flicked and he without thinking returns the kiss.

It’s only for a few seconds, until Carlos once more breaks away to breathe a — by now rather superfluous — “I miss you too…” against his lips, before their mouths are locked again and they are kissing like they used to throughout all the last year; as if they had never stopped, as if December and the unevitable goodbye has never happened - but at the same time, the feelings hit so much deeper than back then.

Cause between the kisses that they share, still at the room door, Carlos tells him in chopped portions that he has been through just the same. That he has missed him all the way. That he has only understood how much he means to him — that he has always been more than just his teammate, his muppet friend, his bed neighbour — when they have been about to be separated. That he has wanted to say it and has so often in the last weeks of the season been close to do so, but that he has never dared it in the end.

Because he has been too scared that Lando wouldn’t feel the same, given how reserved the younger one has always acted when someone has addressed the topic of the team-change.

But in his overwhelm over hearing all these beautiful words from Carlos’ mouth, the younger one also doesn’t know any hold-back anymore and clears it all that up. That this has only been for self-protection. That he has had such a feeling as well, but that he has not wanted to deal with it. Has wanted to prevent the chaos that it would cause in his head, if he’d admit to himself that he is not only bisexual or ‘curious’, as he has first thought when they have started going to bed together - but that he has somehow caught actual feelings for Carlos. More than he has ever felt for anybody.

So he has just pushed every glimpse of that down, filed it under nostalgic sentimentality in the view of the upcoming end of their time together, and just tried to put on a brave front. Cause as long as you don’t think about it, it’s not true, right?

But the visit to the strip club has brought his so strainedly kept-up facade of self-betrayal to crack, and made the whole issue — the truth — impossible to ignore it any further.

Admittedly, Carlos makes big eyes of surprise when he hears that his always so innocent and younger-looking friend has been to a strip club - but this is not the time to crack jokes. Because only his experiences there, even if they do indeed sound very amusing, have made Lando realise what he feels.

What he has always felt.

“I- I guess I love you, Carlos…”, he whispers and even if a part of him still cannot believe that this is actually happening — that he is actually saying this to him —, these words feel so damn right on Lando’s tongue.

And even better do they sound in his ears, when Carlos returns the magic phrase…

Latest from then on, they both do not know any reservation anymore, and neither does one of them bother about the late hour and the exact circumstances. The only thing that matters to them are each other, about so unexpectedly being united again and to get over to the bed, in order to have it a little more comfy for the obviously following making-out-session…

Originally, this is where I saw the story ending for me: With the two of them in bed, cuddling up close and just glad over having the respective other one. I only wanted to make Lando utter a affectionate, cheeky comment like “Red suits you, by the way”, concerning the new team colours on the Spaniard and because he has not actually congratulated him on being able to wear them yet — to throw a bridge back to the beginning and the title.

But, you know, just an overall sweet, happy ending scene.

But! After an involuntary inspiration from a lovely reader (…you know who you are ♥), the scene developed further in my head and I saw Carlos giggling a “Thank you” before my inner eye - and then how the two of them exchange a look of the ‘are we thinking the same?’-kind. Yes, they are. And so, Carlos will slowly move his hands to get rid of this shirt - and then will give Lando an exclusive demonstration of what an enjoyable private dance is like… 😁 😏

And with these images in your head, I’ll leave you for now - this is really it for this story now 😉 Hope you liked the little add-on and see you next time, for the next unwritten story ♥

#The Rest That's Still Unwritten #Lisa writes #Red like Love #Fanfiction #Carlando Fanfiction #Carlando #Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Lando Norris

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hee4won · 3 years

Text

hate(d) | nishimura riki x reader

requested by @onionhaseyeo i’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but for some reason i got super excited

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic(?) i guess it could be considered.. i just had an idea i liked for the request and it felt more like a fic than a headcanon :] i hope it’s not too bad !

word count: 2.1k

warnings: probably some grammatical errors, other than that none. (lowercase intended)

tags: e2l, slight angst, slight fluff

you hate nishimura riki. when you tell others how you feel about him they always have the same unoriginal response, “hate is such a strong word.” and that, is exactly why you chose it.

now, in order to really understand why your hatred runs so deep, let’s get into the Three W’s! WHY do you hate him so much? he stole your best friend, she ended up developing feelings for him and ghosting you, she moved away, he never apologized for it. WHEN did you realize nishimura riki was the worst thing to ever happen to you? 7th grade, it’s always 7th grade. WHERE did the beginning of the end commence? the cafeteria, your friend decided to spill her guts out in front of the whole lunch table, only to be humiliated not long after.

there you sat, glaring at the back of riki’s head. anyone from a mile away could sense your distaste when it came to him. truth be told, no one could understand why, and you never cared to explain. you figured the situation between the two of you or - just you and an unknowing boy - was personal and should be kept private. you were really good at keeping it a secret too, so good that riki himself couldn’t pinpoint the issue you had with him.

for the most part you did your best to avoid him, whether it be physically or when he was brought up in conversation between classmates. ni-ki, as people on good terms with him would address him, was a really friendly student. he didn’t pick fights, kept his teasing to a minimum, and somehow got good grades despite sleeping in and skipping classes.

going to school knowing his sweet, smiling face would be one of the first things you would see in the morning was what kept you in bed during first period. just the idea of him was revolting, and you simply weren’t strong enough to hold your ground right after waking up.

that was until your first period teacher emailed you letting you know a group project was coming up and it counted as 60% of your overall grade. all you could do was send a friendly reply, close the laptop, and scream into your pillow. you were going to be seeing nishimura riki for the first time in almost a month. which you considered to be the best month of your life.

you were alert all morning, barely getting any sleep the night before from how nervous you were. it actually wasn’t as bad as you thought. you were late, which meant everyone already picked who they were going to group with. and, to your luck, riki was nowhere to be foun-

*bump*

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry. . . y/n?” sigh, of course it had to be him. you flashed a limp smile and hurried over to an empty seat. you noticed his hand go forward then drop down to his side, almost like he was trying to bring you back. “oh! ni-ki,” even the teacher knows his nickname? how wonderful. “what perfect timing, you and y/n will be partners for the project, i’ll send the rubric out this afternoon. class dismissed!”

your legs were like jelly, since when did you become this way? sure, you hate him but. . . not being able to move? it was different, it was new. riki noticed the look of confusion on your face and cautiously made his way over to you once all the other students cleared the classroom. “hey, y/n. i haven’t seen you in a while, have you been doing alright?” why on earth was he concerned about you? so shameless.

“yeah, i’m fine, thanks,” you glared at him while standing up and purposefully bumping into his shoulder. bad move. your knees gave out right then, luckily, riki held onto you before you could hit the cold floor. you sighed in defeat, today just wasn’t your day, and mister nishimura just wasn’t the person you wanted to be this close to.

“do you need something? or is there another reason you won’t let go of my arm,” every word had a hint of poison mixed in it. riki muttered a small apology and quickly released you. “i just wanted to let you know that we can work on the project at my place, only if you want,” he gave a boxy closed-mouth smile, almost as if he was trying to act cute. disgusting.

“whatever, give me your address and i’ll come by at 4.” and with that, you two went your separate ways.

after school

as you made your way to riki’s house, you were running over every possible scenario that could occur. you wanted to avoid arguing, only because you took your grades very seriously. but does he? you couldn’t help but feel nervous and slightly jittery as you got closer to his front steps. oh! the door is open. but. . . no riki?

you called out for him a couple times until hearing laughter and the crunching of chips coming down from the second floor. of course, he’s playing the game. trudging up the stairs you wiped off your sweaty palms, mentally preparing yourself before inviting yourself into his room.

“sunghoon, shut up! it’s not even like that, you’re so weird,” he was so loud. “jake, you too! as if you haven’t been trying to swoon that girl in your third period for the past two months now. haha!” well, boys will be boys.

you open the door and riki notices immediately. he throws his headset and controller down to the floor. “y/n, you scared me,” he was almost out of breath. “oh my bad, i called out for you but you didn’t hear me so. . .” you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. riki muttered a quick, “it’s okay” and gestured for you to take a seat on his bed.

picking up his headset, he told the cheeky upper-class boys that he would talk to them later. grabbing his supplies and computer, he took a seat next to you. you shifted away from him a little, not comfortable with the closeness between the two of you. he didn’t seem to notice, that or he just didn’t care.

“okay, so, have you already looked over the rubric?” crickets. “helloo, earth to y/n! have you checked the rubric yet?” “OH! yes, i have, ha,” you gave a quick reply, trying to pretend the awkward moment of you staring at him never happened.

ha? are you insane? you were nervous yes, and you thought it was because of the bad terms you two were on but. . . this nervousness felt a bit different.

“i also wrote up a quick outline during lunch,” you took the paper out of your bag and moved to hand it to him. “ooh nice, you’re such a scholar,” you gave him a lighthearted “shut up” before looking back at your laptop.

did he feel that? your fingers touched. they did touch, right? you can’t be imagining all of this. Y/N. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU HATE HIM, REMEMBER?

“uh, y/n? why do you look like you’ve been holding in a wet fart for the past three minutes?” he was being playful while also holding genuine concern because of your recent actions. your jaw drops, you were always bad at keeping a poker face. but you knew you had to go back to your cold state, there was no way you were going to finish the project by gawking at him. he has such pretty lips by the way, how did you not notice sooner?

it had been a few hours since you guys started working on the project. you checked the time, 8:00 pm. “hey, riki,” you began with a small yawn. “y/n, you know you can call me ni-ki, right? that’s what all my friends call me,” his eyes suddenly widened noticing your discomfort. “wait, i mean. . . only if you want to!”

you cleared your throat and just asked for the bathroom. once inside and closing the door behind you, you felt the need to cry. sob, even. what is going on? why do you feel so bad for being around him? are you a traitor? is it wrong to be laughing and giggling like the two of you are besties?

you turned the water on, hoping it would drown out the sound of your muffled cries. unfortunately, you have some awfully loud sniffles. riki came running to where you were and knocked on the door. he spoke softly, “y/n? are you okay? can i come in?” what was the point in saying no? it is his house, and maybe if you told him. . . you’d feel better.

as you opened the door and looked up at him, the look of worry on his face made your heart ache. gosh, why do you care about him so much? he looked at your tear stained face and slowly reached out his hand, giving you a look that pleaded for your approval. you pass a small nod, and almost sank into the warmth of his hand on your cheek. he pulled you in for a hug as you cried for a little while longer. “do you wanna talk about it?”

here it was, here was the chance to let him know what you’ve been wanting to since 7th grade. you took a moment to steady your breathing and gather courage to look him in the eyes. you told him everything, from the beginning of 7th grade, to the day it all happened, all the way to where the two of you stood now.

he just sat there, probably trying to process everything you had randomly dumped on him. you were about to apologize and pack your things, but for some odd reason, he smiled? “ni-ki? what’s so funny? i was being serious,” his smile only grew bigger, “no i know, i just find it so funny how you had so much agaisnt me meanwhile i just wanted you to like me.”

he?? wanted you to like him??? hmmm. “what do you mean. . . wanted me to like you?” you were really curious, “i’ve had a crush on you since 7th grade, that’s why i rejected your friend later on. i never knew it would hurt you in the process, and for that i am sorry. very sorry.” you let out a small chuckle, “it’s not your fault, really. now that i’m older i think i was only mad that you two didn’t end up together because i liked you too. i just couldn’t live with myself for liking the same boy my best friend liked. it’s stupid, i know.”

riki reached out for your hand, which you obviously let him have. “you’re a good friend.” he flashed you a sweet and caring smile. you let out a sigh of relief, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. all this time you had been pushing for yourself to hate him, while it was all just a plot to get rid of your feelings for him. crazy.

it was 11:00 pm.

you and riki had already finished the project and were laying on his floor. the both of you just staring at the ceiling and stealing glances at each other. what lovesick little kids.

after noticing the time, you hopped up and told him you really needed to go. he gave you a small pout with puppy eyes trying to get you to stay, and of course, it was hard but you’d rather leave now and see him later than get grounded and not see him for another month. “i can just text you, don’t make that face.”

he escorted you down the stairs, both of you moving discreetly, careful not to wake the boy’s parents. he opened the door for you and you turned around, gazing at him. “what are you thinking?” he asked with a tired smile on his face and small pieces of fluffy hair sticking up in every direction. you gave a shy smile and pecked his lips. he was very surprised, but also very happy.

“nothing.” you said, holding a cheeky grin in an attempt to hide your shyness. “wow, just to think that you hate my guts,” riki poked fun at you.

“hm, hate is such a strong word.”

“what would you call it then?”

“i would say. . . i hate(d) you. past tense.”

the two of you just laughed, both of you yawning shortly after.

“goodnight, mr. ni-ki.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

and with that, the two of you went your separate ways. but this time, with mutual feelings.

oh and btw, the project got you guys an A+ ;).

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